Page 88 of Claimed By Stone
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the stone floor.
“We’re leaving,” I said, voice lower than I intended, the command in it undeniable.
Khuldruk raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
“Yes.”
Frema frowned. “Thavros, this could be our only chance to?—”
“Your questions can wait,” I growled, cutting her off, already stalking toward Seraphina. “This—” I pointed to her, my voice rough with need, “—cannot.”
Seraphina’s smile was slow and wicked, her golden eyes sparkling like shewantedto be claimed in front of the whole damned war room. Through the bond, her desire surged. Gods help me, I could barely restrain myself.
I reached her, scooped her up with both arms, and threw her over my shoulder like a prize. She squealed, laughing as she gave my hip a playful smack.
“We’ll answer everything later!” she called over her shoulder, giggling.
“Muchlater,” I added, my voice barely more than a growl.
“Much,muchlater,” she echoed, laughter still dancing in her voice.
I bent to scoop up a fur cloak on the way out, wrapping it around her as I carried her from the room. My mate. My goddess. Mine.
I tightened the thick fur cloak around her body, shielding her from the cool corridors of the mountain as I strode through the halls. The tension coiled in my gut, thrumming with the bond, with the heat of her body, with the ache that had built since the moment we claimed each other.
She shifted slightly on my shoulder. “Thavros,” she said with a half-laugh, “I can walk, you know.”
“No,” I growled, a half-tease, half-threat. “You’re safer right here.”
She squirmed again. “I’m not a sack of grain.”
“You’re my mate,” I said simply.
She huffed, clearly unimpressed, and wriggled a bit more. “Honestly, this is not very comfortable.”
That was enough to break through my haze of feral energy. With a grunt of reluctant understanding, I shifted her down into my arms, cradling her against my chest instead.
“Better?” I asked as her cheek pressed to my shoulder.
She tilted her head up, eyes glowing softly with laughter and something warmer. “Much. Though, for the record… Istillcould walk.”
“I know,” I murmured. “But I’ll still carry you.”
And I did, all the way back to our den.
The warmth hit us first, rich and fragrant, thick with memory. The den hadn’t changed. The same torches in the carved walls, the same furs piled on the wide stone bed, the same low flickering light and gentle sound of water in the far spring. And yet… it was all different.
Becausewewere different.
Seraphina stirred in my arms, eyes wide and awestruck as I carried her inside. Her glow reflected against the stones, gilding the space with something sacred. I crossed the room slowly and laid her down in the furs like something fragile and divine.
Except she was neither.
She was strength wrapped in softness. A goddess kissed by fate. Mine.
The bond thrummed in my chest, fierce and golden, anchoring me to her with every heartbeat. I was aware of every breath she took, every shift of her hips, every ripple of power that still shimmered beneath her skin.
I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back from her face. My fingers lingered against her cheek, marveling at the glow beneath her skin.
