Page 115 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

“Because we’re together,” I tell him. “We’re taking control of our destinies. Even if the Golden Moon Goddess frowns down upon us, maybe the Gray God will look after us.”

Nemeth gestures at the rickety barn. “He led us to this, did he not?”

“He could have led us to an inn,” I say tartly, but I let a smile curve my lips. “But this will do for now. So tomorrow morning you’ll fly for me, and then we’ll see how to proceed from there. It’s decided.”

“Stubborn mule,” he says, his voice loving. “But fine. In the morning, I will fly and we will see how it goes.”

“If you really want to speed up our travel, is it safe for you to slide through the shadows? Like you did in the tower?” I bite my lip, because it feels strange to even ask. The magic of it unnerves me, but he said it was safe as long as the area was wide open and visible, and our surroundings certainly are. “But only if it’s safe.”

This time, the look in his eyes grows dark. He shakes his head. “I’m not certain I wish to risk it. When we crossed the water, something felt different than the last time I carried you.”

“Different?” Everything inside me clenches up. Has he figured it out? Has Nemeth discovered my secret already? Does he know I’m pregnant? I keep my eyes wide with innocence, my face carefully blank. “Teleporting me feels different? How?”

He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain. All I know is I don’t wish to try it again. We’re not supposed to shadow-glide with a human anyhow.”

I want to tell him that I have Fellian blood. That somewhere down the line, one of my ancestors—likely the legendary Ravendor herself—had sex with a Fellian and gave birth to his child. That I’m pregnant with his child, too. But the words won’t come. They stick in my throat like honey. I’m afraid something will change between us. That he’ll realize I’m more fragile than he anticipated and leave me behind.

The thought terrifies me. I grab his hand and put a smile on my face to hide my fear. “I can walk.”

We gaze at each other for a long moment, and I scarcely dare breathe for fear he’ll read the secret on my face.

“Your medicine,” Nemeth finally says. “Are you ready for it?”

I nod. Anything to divert the conversation.

He pulls out the bag full of my carefully cleaned medical kit—the needles, the syringe, the cloths, and finally the vials of prepared potion that have to be warmed. I watch, wordless, as he starts a fire with a flick of magic. It burns inside the small pot we brought for such things, and he holds the vial over the flames for just a moment before attaching the needle to the end and flicking it to ensure there are no air bubbles. I untie my sleeve and roll it up, and we use a sip of our precious drinking water to wash my arm.

Nemeth readies the syringe and then gazes at me with a somber expression. “I’m sorry I cannot be a better mate to you, Candra. You deserve a prince with two working wings and stronger magic, and instead you got me.”

What? Does he think I asked about his wing because I’m mad at him for not flying?

Before he can administer my shot, I push his hand aside. “Wait a moment.”

He looks surprised at my hesitation. “Are you in pain? Do you need to vomit? Shall I find a bucket?” He glances around, getting to his feet. “Give me a moment?—”

I slide forward, onto my knees, and hold on to his leg. “Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop doubting yourself.” I gaze up at him. “I don’t care that you can’t fly. I only asked because I know it’s hard for you. I don’t care if you don’t have huge magic. I don’t have any. I don’t care if we have to walk every step of the way to Castle Lios. I just want to be with you. We’re in this together, the both of us. Every step of the way. Understand?” I cling to his leg, pressing my cheek against his strong, strangely bent thigh. I run my hands up and down his leg. I wonder if our child will have knees that bend backward like Nemeth, or if they will be like mine. I wonder if they will have wings.

I wonder if they will have his huge, giving heart.

I brush my lips over his skin. “I love you, Nemeth. I don’t want anyone but you. Understand? You and I are doing the best we can, no matter the situation. None of this is what was expected to happen. We were supposed to stay in the tower, but they were also supposed to bring us food. Now we’ve left, and we’ll figure it out. All of it. But I don’t want you blaming yourself. Not when you’re the best thing in my life.”

HIs hand lands atop my head, and I don’t even mind that it brushes over my sunburn. His fingers dig into my braid, his remaining claws tugging at my hair. “I would do anything for you,” he rasps. “You know that, yes?”

I love the hunger in his tone, the yearning. And even though I’m weary and sunburned, I want nothing more than to touch my mate right now, to pleasure him and show him how much I adore him. I slide my hand up under his kilt, brushing my fingers over the linen wrap underneath. “I want you.”

“Now? After the day we’ve had?” When I nod, he groans, and as I stroke my fingers over his cock, I can feel it hardening in my grasp. “I cannot give you my knot,milettahn. We do not dare the enemy finding us locked together and helpless.”

“Then don’t give me your knot,” I whisper, rubbing him through the fabric. “Just let me suck on you and give you pleasure.”

Nemeth groans, and I know he can’t resist.

I stroke him harder, gazing up. “Take your kilt off for me?”

He nods, and quickly divests himself of his belt and then the kilt itself. The linen wrap goes next, all the while I grab the pack I’d been sitting upon earlier and use it as a footstool. Now, when I’m on my knees, I’m the right height to pleasure my massive, tall mate. I sigh with anticipation at the sight of him naked, his cock rigid in front of me, his knot not yet full. Unable to help myself, I reach out and clasp him in my hands, rubbing my face against his shaft.

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