Page 8 of Heart of the Shadow King

A smile plays across his lips, a knowing glint in his eye. But he shakes his head. “You needn’t do anything for me, little wife. Pleasing you is pleasure enough for me.”

He means it. I hardly understand it, scarcely know how to believe it. But the truth is all too evident, revealed in every exposed feeling he shares with me in this moment. He means what he says. He loves me. Truly loves me. Beyond every expectation I’ve ever dared harbor. Beyond any hope of finding belonging in this or any world. He loves me with a pure, sacrificial love that would put me before any need of his own.

This knowledge only strengthens my resolve. “Please,” I say. “I want to try.”

This time when I move to unlace his trousers, he does not stop me. Rather he assists me, standing as I slide them down his hips, over his well-shaped thighs and muscular calves. At last I behold my husband in his full glory. I’ve seen most of him already, admired and felt intimidation by the greatness and majesty of his body and bearing. But nothing had quite prepared me for this sight. Nothing fully could.

I’m hardly amaidenanymore. Technically speaking I’ve not lost my maidenhead, but we’ve already done such things as to make me feel I can safely leave that label behind me. Nonetheless, a blush steels up my face. I’ve never seen a naked man before. It’s very strange. And he’s very beautiful.

“I . . . I think it might be easier if you were to lie down,” I say.

He smiles again, amused by my shyness. “Whatever you wish, my love.” He stretches himself out on the fur rug beside me, tucking me against his great body. I lie there for some moments, tracing my fingers across the lines of his torso and abdomen, exploring the definition of muscle and the many scars. After a long contemplative silence, he rolls over and kisses me again, pulling back only to murmur, “You needn’t do anything you don’t wish to, Faraine. It is enough simply to be here with you.”

“I know.” Pushing back, I sit up and look at him, stroke his strong, chiseled face. “This is what I want.”

With those words I begin to kiss him. Timidly at first, little explorations with my lips, my tongue, my teeth. I want to mimic what he did for me, sensitive to each reaction he makes. Certain places I touch make him gasp, make his body and soul sing in response. I take my time, luxuriating in this moment with him, this world of ours. This place where we unmake and create each other by turns.

“Ah, Faraine!” he gasps at last as my kisses continue to venture lower. “You’ll drive me mad!”

I smile.

Then I take him in my mouth.

It’s odd at first. Like all of this has been. For a moment I doubt myself. He is so large and, despite the detailed instructions I was given preceding my wedding night, I’m uncertain I’ll be able to give him what he needs. But his groans of pleasure and the feelings vibrating from his soul don’t lie. I take heart and pull and tease, let the tip of my tongue flicker and play. It’s oddly delightful, having him like this. Feeling his every reaction to my touch, experiencing this power of mine to give him such pleasure. Physical pleasure, yes. But so much more as well. He could find release for his needs elsewhere if he chose. But what I give him—my presence, my love, my delight and adoration—that is for us alone. No one else can give him this, no one in all the worlds.

It does not take long. He cries out in release, and in that same moment, the intensity of his feelings shoots straight through me, making me gasp. My body lights up as though his pleasure were mine, and all around us, the crystals in the walls burst into a symphony of colors, filling my head with dancing lights and a wondrous, multitudinous harmony of song.

4

VOR

When she’s in my arms, the world feels right once more.

I remember fearing a human bride would simply be too . . . small. That I’d spend all my time worried about crushing her with my great, lumbering trolde body. But Faraine, delicate and fragile though she is, fits like she was made to be here beside me. Tucked up close with her hand tracing little patterns across my chest, drawing lines between the constellations of my scars.

I tip my head, catch her bi-colored gaze. She smiles, and my heart jolts, ready to stop from pure joy. Her smile is so lovely—all the more so for its rarity on her solemn face. A man could live and die in the light of that smile and never want for any other.

And I’d thought I’d lost her. Forever.

A gurgling rumble interrupts the stillness of the chamber. “Oh!” Faraine gasps and places a hand across her bare abdomen. “Pardon me!”

I smile and run a finger along the curve of her breast finally coming to rest atop her hand. “You must be starving. Did no one think to feed you?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

I press my lips to the top of her head. “You are their queen,” I murmur into her hair. “It is their honor to be bothered by you.” When I look down at her again, however, her eyelashes have dropped, and all trace of that smile is gone. A shadow hovers across her brow. She pushes away from me, sits up. She’s still naked; nothing but a hank of golden hair falling across her shoulder offers any covering. She wears her pendant too, that littleurzulcrystal which I never see her without. It rests against her heart, glittering faintly.

Gods on high, but she’s beautiful! I could lie here an age and simply watch her, every little movement she makes. The tilt of her head, the tension in her jaw when she swallows, the swell of her breast as she breathes. Though I wouldn’t end up merelywatchingfor long; other urges would soon take over, that compulsion to fill up as much delight into whatever little time we have left.

But her stomach growls again, and her gaze flicks to the food platter. “Here,” I say and hastily rise to my feet. “Allow me.” I don’t bother to cover myself as I cross the room to fetch the platter. Lifting the cover, I reveal an assortment of fruits, mushrooms, and a small loaf of soft bread. Things I gathered from the kitchen, assured by the cook that they were imported from Gavaria to tempt the palate of my human bride.

I return to the rug with my offering. Much to my disappointment, Faraine has slipped back into the red dress I’d ripped off her. The laces are all broken and loose down her front, and the bodice only partially covers her lovely breasts. That’s a blessing in any case. “Thank you,” she says as I set the platter before her on the rug. She surveys the meal. “You’re very thoughtful. I know you must have been terribly busy throughout the day.”

“More than you can imagine.” I stretch beside her on the rug once more, resting on one elbow. “But you were never far from my thoughts. It was all I could do not to run to you any spare moment I chanced to draw breath.”

She takes a bite of mushroom and soft bread, chews. Closes her eyes. “Is it to your liking?” I ask.

She nods but seems to choke a little on her mouthful. “I’m sorry,” she says. “It is good, and I am ravenous, it’s just . . . well, my body doesn’t seem to know what to do anymore.”

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