Page 95 of Brawler
He sat up too, the moment suddenly sharp and perfect, Emily naked, radiant, his heart pounding in his chest. He opened the box, revealing a ring, one brilliant diamond set in a band etched with delicate, dancing fairies.
“Emily Shade,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “will you marry me?”
She gasped, tears flooding her eyes. “Oh, Christian. It’s beautiful.”
He smiled, holding her hand steady. “I had bands made for both of us, yours to match the ring, and mine to match yours.”
She turned the ring, saw the inscription inside, and broke down with a sob.To my Pixie Dust, who always brings the magic.
Her tears spilled over, her voice breaking. “Slide it on.”
He obeyed, slipping the ring onto her trembling finger.
Then she caught his face between her hands, her eyes blazing through the tears. “Now, come here and fuck me, my Christian, my love.”
He pushed her back into the sheets, sank into her heat, the world narrowing to the woman he adored. The danger waiting out there didn’t matter, not now. He would go where duty called, but he would bolster himself with this moment, with the knowledge that Emily and Toby would be waiting for him to come home.
“I love you, Emily,” he whispered fiercely, thrusting deep, staring into her eyes as she arched against him. “Until the stars and the moon come down.”
She shattered first, crying out as pleasure ripped through her, and he followed, falling with her into that white-hot blanket of stars.
The next morning Toby nearly tackled Emily when she came into the kitchen, grabbing her hand before she could even pour coffee. “You said yes, didn’t you?” he demanded, grinning like he’d just solved the universe.
Emily laughed, flashing the diamond. “Of course, I said yes.”
Toby whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “Knew it! Odds were ninety-nine percent, but still. You just skewed the whole bell curve!”
Brawler leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching them banter as Beast trotted around their legs like the damn dog understood. He’d never seen his brother so alive, never thought he’d feel this kind of light in his house again. Emily had done that.
Later, when the dishes were stacked and Toby had vanished into his books, Brawler stood out on the porch with Emily tucked under his arm, her ring catching the sunlight.
His chest ached, full in a way it had never been before. He thought of the coming mission, the danger pressing closer, the war waiting to swallow them. But for the first time, he wasn’t bracing for it alone.
He bent his head to kiss her hair, breathing her in. He had so much to fight for.
Whatever’s coming, let it come. She’s mine. I’ve already won.
Sleep draggedKilla Saqra Rumi down into currents thick with smoke and whispers. At first it was him.Jae.HerFlash. His laughter brushed against her skin like sunlight through leaves, his grin wicked, irresistible, alive. She reached for him, and when her fingers met his, the world split open.
Visions consumed her. Trenches slick with blood. Cities burning beneath bombers’ wings. A griffin bleeding but unbroken, a moose crowned with frost, a kangaroo lashing out against the dust. A lion roaring from battered isles, a bear striking from frozen shadow. Above them all, her eagle. Star-spangled. Wings blazing with fire and starlight. His cry cleaved the darkness, and it was his voice she heard. Her name whispered in defiance of death itself.
Her body ached for him, deeper than lust, older than choice. Primal. Ordained. She could feel his mouth at her throat, his hands rough on her waist, the press of him hard and hungry against her. The need clawed through her with such violence that she gasped in her sleep. This torture was inhuman. To be bound to him yet denied him, nothing but soul-deep agony.
But the vision shifted. Light fractured into shadow. Something monstrous slipped through, faceless, vast, gnashing. These disturbing visions seemed so real. But they couldn’t be. Could they? If not for Flash, she would have turned from them, dismissed them as phantoms. The air turned bitter, the skysmeared black. She screamed for him, but the eagle was gone. In its place was ruin, and the taste of ash.
Lechuza bolted upright, sweat streaking her skin, heart a drumbeat against her ribs. Every cell of her body burned. Her nipples ached for his mouth, her skin craved his touch, her core throbbed for his hard cock, a sensual, agonizing need. She writhed on the bed, caught in an erotic hell. Reaching for herself, for relief, she cried out when she brushed her slick clit but ripped her hand away. No. Only him, his hands, his mouth, all of him, would sate this madness.
For one breath she almost convinced herself it was only a dream. She had too much to worry about to chase ghosts, her career, her cover, her enemies. Someone was assassinating—no, not sanctioned—murderingimportant figures in her name. Soiling her reputation. Breaking her oath by proxy. Besmirching her with lies whispered in dark corners. The Shadowreavers were hunting her, and they were close.
She would find who dared twist her service and end them.
But then she crossed to the window, the night air cool against her overheated skin. The jungle lay still, dark and hushed. Only the sky moved.
Her breath caught.
An eagle wheeled across the heavens, vast and bright, wings striped with fire and starlight. The star-spangled eagle. His cry split the night, fierce and triumphant, echoing in her blood, in her flesh, in her soul.
“Jae,” she whispered.
