Page 89 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

She was perfect, every bit of her. But instead of telling her as much, Kael said only, “They will likely be here by dawn tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” Aisling propped herself up on her elbows, baring her naked chest to him. He made no attempt to hide his perusal of her body, already dewy with perspiration. Those protective instincts that had been ignited to such a dangerous degree in Kael before shifted as he gazed down at her, softening into a different sort of impulse. He traced a callused thumb across her lips. Then, over her collarbone, where Elasha’s poultice had already healed her wound into a raised pink scar. A reminder that he’d failed to protect her—and not only that once.

He was hers, he realized, and he felt that realization in his marrow. She had pulled him in as the moon draws the tides: gradually, inch by inch, but with unstoppable force.

Kael dropped forward to blaze a trail of searing kisses across her jawline, down the column of her neck, into the hollow at the base of her throat. He lingered at the notch of her collarbone, where her pulse fluttered just under her skin.

“I have never felt want—never felt need—the way I feel it for you,” he purred. Aisling fell onto her back and he settled more of his weight against her, pinning her beneath him. Her lips met his again and parted. Waves of tingling pleasure cascaded through him when her tongue played over his own. The heated tension winding tightly in Kael’s abdomen drew lower as he hardened against her.

“Please,” Aisling begged, voice trembling, aching for him as he did for her. He’d wanted to savor this, to savor her, for as long as he could. But the hungry look in her eyes pulled a shudder through his muscles and he lifted himself up just enough to allow her to reach down and guide him into her. The way her body responded, tightening around him, was almost too much to bear.

When Aisling opened her legs wider, Kael rolled his hips against hers rhythmically. As they moved together, he tried to stay there with her in the moment and ignore the weight of uncertainty that hung heavy in the air. Yet each touch, each caress, was infused with a bittersweet urgency, a silent fear of what was to come. Neither of them dared speak that fear aloud, though. Not when doing so would make it real.

So they moved together, seeking both comfort and ecstasy in equal measure. Aisling’s labored breath kept time with his thrusts and Kael relished the scent of her filling his nostrils, his lungs. She whimpered when he slowed his pace, dipping in and out of her with languid strokes. He wasn’t ready for their closeness to end; he was intent on drawing it out for as long as he could, despite the way his every nerve protested for release.

This time, the rapturous climax they shared was a moment of surrender, a collision of two individuals finally, finally acknowledging what bound them.

He felt the shift in the atmosphere even before he awoke to Raif’s insistent voice calling his name from the hall—it was subtle, only barely there, but insidious. Kael had ruled over Unseelie territory for long enough that he was very nearly one with it. He knew when something had changed. He could sense when it was under threat.

So he was unsurprised by the hard set of Raif’s jaw and the determined gleam in his dark eyes when the male said, “The perimeter guard spotted the Seelie army closing in.”

The army’s arrival had come far sooner than even Kael predicted, but with their Queen’s fury fueling them, it was unlikely that they’d stopped to make camp even once since departing the Seelie dominions. He was out of time.

Behind him, Aisling sat tangled in his fur blankets, clutching one against her bare chest. The fire in the hearth beside her, which had before been raging, had burned down to smoldering embers. Glowing shades of red and orange rippled across her pale skin. When Kael turned to look at her, she was focused straight ahead on the doorway where he stood with Raif. She was so still that he could hardly tell whether she was breathing.

“A moment,” Kael told Raif, and closed the door. Then, to Aisling, he said, “It’s time.”

She shook her head. “It’s too soon,” she protested.

Kael took several steps towards her, then held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. He grasped her chin gently and tipped her face up. “We are ready for this.Youare ready for this.”

“I don’t think I am,” she argued, her voice a quiet whisper.

“I know that you are. I can see it.” Kael tightened his hold on her chin just slightly to keep her there with him. “Fate does not choose the weak, Aisling.”

A smile, then—almost as faint as her voice, but it raised the corners of her lips enough that he was satisfied. Kael moved to the chest against the wall and began sifting through the pieces of his armor and battle leathers until he found his chainmail tunic. The cool material moved fluidly between his fingers when he withdrew it and passed it to Aisling.

“Put this on,” he said. She pulled it over her head, layering it between a shirt and a heavy sweater. It fell to her thighs, far too big for her frame, but it was light and strong and its protection would give him some comfort while they were apart.

Kael’s confidence in their plan grew with each strap he deftly fastened, and once he was finally clad in that black, black armor, he felt sure that they would succeed. His magic roiled and writhed beneath his skin, though not uncomfortably this time. Ready to be unleashed, but not beyond his control. A strength now, rather than a threat.

Lyre and Rodney had joined Raif in the passageway; Kael could hear their voices through the door. He approached Aisling where she stood watching him dress.

“Stay close to Lyre,” he told her. Gently, he pulled her hair from where it was stuck beneath the collar of her moss green cloak. His fingers paused when they brushed against her neck, then he slid his hand around to rest at its nape.

“I’m afraid,” Aisling admitted. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her face when she tried to blink them back.

“It is alright to be afraid.” Kael’s chest constricted, his heart squeezing as he leaned down and kissed away each falling tear. “You have been brave for long enough; let me have a turn. You’ve given me all the hope I need to see this through.”

“Ready?” Rodney asked, peeking his head into the chamber.

Kael brushed his lips over Aisling’s forehead one final time, then nodded and said, “Ready.”

“I was thinking,” Rodney started as Aisling and Kael stepped into the hall, pausing mid-sentence to draw in a breath. “I was thinking that it would make the most sense if I go with Kael.”

Aisling balked visibly. “What? No. Ineed you with me.”

“I’ll be there with you for the rite, Ash,” he insisted quickly. “But Laure knows you and I are rarely far apart. If she sees me with him, she’ll be more likely to follow.”

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