Page 211 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Garrik kissed her hair. “Then we will. Whatever you wish.”

“But what about you? Is that what you want?”

A smile twitched the corners of his mouth. “I want that too.”

“We could do it here.” In this world. Alora’s attention flickered to the graveyard. To the tombstone in memory of his mother.

Garrik deepened a heavy breath, kissed her cheek with gratitude, and said, “That sounds perfect.” But then straightened behind her, caught off-guard by something. Garrik looked to the graveyard, then to her with softened eyes, but said nothing more.

And she wondered if he was thinking of his mother as her thoughts wavered to her parents. “It’ll be dawn soon,” she informed, refusing the pain of knowing her parents wouldn’t be there to see her happy and embraced by the love of their friends.To meet the male who restored her broken pieces and preserved her heart.

She pressed against Garrik when he laid his chin on her shoulder and kissed her neck like he couldn’t get enough of simply touching her.

“Mmm, good. As I intend to worship you in the daylight, too.”

Alora turned, finding those lust-stricken silvers bright and alive even half-lidded. “We’ll be missed.” Her cheeks heated. Not only missed, but Thalon would know what was keeping them. Though she wanted to stay there the rest of eternity with Garrik, the simple fact was they hadn’t located Blood. They’d need to return within a few hours.

“Airatheldra exists outside the bounds of time. A mere second in Elysian could be a day here. A month. Thalon most likely has not returned to his room yet.”

Her eyes brightened at that.

“Which means…” Garrik turned her against the balcony with something wild and ancient in his eyes. He was naked, caging her in as a finger disturbed the unbuttoned fabric at her chest. “My wife,” he growled with a smirk that shot pleasure to her core, “we have endless time to do whatever we please.”

Alora rubbed her thighs together.

Garrik’simpeccableattention noticed.

“What of that library you mentioned?” She glanced over her shoulder at the homes built and spread across the land. “One of those?”

Garrik barked a laugh. “Oh, I have onefullof ideas I promise to fulfill before returning, but I am certain Eldacar would not want us fucking in his home.”

Alora traced a finger down the front of him and stopped at his chiseled waistline.

“Wicked, clever thing.” His cock twitched, begging her to continue.

She did. Wolfishly, she did.

When Garrik groaned from her hand wrapped around his cock and she lifted on her toes to kiss him, Alora said, “Well then, husband.” Shuddering at the word she once vowed to never speak, Alora released her hold on the tunic, dropping it to the floorboards. “What are you waiting for?”

They dawned to Elysian two weeks later to find the sun barely peaking over the Blackstone Mountains. Garrik hadn’t exaggerated the timeline difference. Though it was an adjustment. Only a few hours before, in their world, she’d seen Thalon.

Alora braced the leathered armrest with one hand. The other splayed in Garrik’s hair as she threw her head back in pleasure.His hands gripped her hips as she rocked, and a low deep curse rumbled from his throat. Garrik angled his head enough it tilted away from her, baring his quickened pulse through the scar on his neck.

One look at Garrik’s ruined bedchamber in Kadamar had been all it took for her to lead him to the chair.

Though their time in Airatheldra had mainly been spent training Alora to fly, dawn—and doing this very thing, which now seemed like a cleansing. Fucking her on the kitchen island after making breakfast together, splayed out amidst milled flour and spilled eggs, licking batter from each other’s skin. All but attacking him as he chopped firewood. Making love in the night sky on Smokeshadow wings.

Though the pain and memories had still haunted him there, none of that felt like this now. Compared to a world solely for protection and safety, the reminders and echoes of his past were tenfold in Elysian.

Alora’s finger tickled the sensitive tip of Garrik’s ear. His cock twitched inside her.

Her male.Hers. No one else’s.

Following the linear path down his ear to the sensitive nerves behind, Alora eased her hips and stroked that spot, knowing and having witnessed many times recently what it did to a male.

“Alora,” he moaned, certain of who rode him. Flexing his hips, rolling them to her rhythm, on the verge of unraveling. “Starsdamn, clever girl”—he moaned; she quickened her pace, the stroking—“hold on to something.”

She didn’t have a moment to object—not that she would have.

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