Page 91 of The Shadowbound King

“You don’t have to say anything,” I said, squeezing her hand. “You owe us nothing. Not an answer, not a promise. This is your choice, Mirella.”

The tension left her face, and she drew an even breath. “I want to do the shadowbond. Not because I think you want me to, but for the Embervale. For Ginhad, the children, Vivia, and Thraxos.” She looked at Rane. “I’ll bond with you, and we’ll go to Purecliff and find the Kree.”

Rane’s eyes shone. “I would be honored to bond with you.”

Emotion welled in my chest. Maybe I should have felt conflicted about loving two people, but I didn’t. It felt right.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” I said. “Today, we rest and make a plan.”

Mirella nodded. Rane’s gaze lingered on her, his eyes darkening with lust he didn’t bother to hide. She noticed his attention, the pulse in her throat fluttering as she returned his stare.

“We should rest first,” I said. “The bed is big enough for the three of us.”

Rane tucked a lock of hair behind Mirella’s ear with a gentle hand. “It’s Mirella’s decision.”

Silence stretched, and we all knew we weren’t talking about sleep.

Mirella drew another deep breath. Then she lifted her chin, her golden eyes steady. “Yes.”

Chapter

Twenty-Three

MIRELLA

My heart pounded as Andrin led me into the bedchamber. Rane passed us, heading for the windows. As Andrin halted me beside the bed, Rane drew the heavy drapes shut, smothering the sunlight except for a few pale beams that striped the rich carpet. The chamber dimmed, shadows pooling in the corners. Rane moved to the hearth next. Crouching with a poker in hand, he stirred the embers, coaxing the fire back to life. The faint crackle of flames joined the steady drum of my pulse.

Andrin put a fingertip under my chin and drew my gaze back to him. “Eyes on me, Mirella.”

Shivers coursed down my arms, and the memory of Rane’s voice at the Covenant ran through my mind in a thick, warm current.

Andrin is a demanding master.

I swallowed hard, nerves fluttering low in my stomach. But heat pooled there, too, a familiar ache building between my thighs. I waited for Andrin to touch me, to draw me into his arms and slant his mouth over mine.

Instead, he held my gaze, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made my breath hitch. Woodsmoke and forest filled mylungs, along with the crisp, bracing scent that was his alone. Fire crackled behind me, its glow swelling. Light danced over Andrin’s hair and the thick bands of vines and prancing elk around his neck.

He kept me waiting. Kept me on edge as he had when he watched Rane pleasure me in the stable.

Eyes glittering, he brushed a thumb over my bottom lip. “So lovely, Mirella,” he said, his voice so deep it seemed to rumble the floor under my feet.

Warm hands slid around my waist, and I startled as Rane’s scent enveloped me from behind. His hard chest brushed my back, and his lips coasted over the shell of my ear. I hadn’t sensed his approach. Now, the men bracketed me, their larger bodies caging mine.

Andrin slid his hand from my mouth to my throat, his long fingers circling my neck. “Do you want us, Mirella? Both of us?”

My breath faltered, caught between the hammering of my heart and the molten heat gathering between my legs. Andrin’s grip on my throat was gentle but unyielding, his fingers a reminder of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of my heart thundering in my ears.

Satisfaction gleamed in Andrin’s eyes.

Rane brushed my hair aside, and cool air caressed my nape. Then his lips were on my skin, the tip of his tongue trailing a line of silky heat that raised goosebumps on my arms. His hands slid lower, brushing the small of my back as he began tugging at my gown’s laces.

I turned instinctively, looking over my shoulder—and then gasped when Andrin’s hand tightened around my throat, and he forced my gaze back to his.

“I told you to keep your eyes on me, my lady,” he said softly, then lowered his lips to mine.

I moaned into Andrin’s mouth, desire pumping faster. Maybe I shouldn’t have responded to him like I did. I shouldn’t have melted under his dark, commanding possessiveness. Surely, there were good reasons to resist him. But as his tongue stroked deep, I couldn’t recall a single one. His taste was intoxicating—a heady mix of magic and power that threatened to consume me whole. His fingers tightened around my neck, and I moaned as my nipples tightened.

---