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Lily's gaze darts around the room, taking in the sea of fierce, hungry faces, the palpable weight of their scrutiny. I can smell her nervousness, her trepidation...but beneath it, rising like smoke from a hidden flame, is the heady musk of her arousal.
She wants this, wants me, even as she fears the implications, the sheer audacity of what I'm asking of her. I can see it in the flush of her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her breast, the way her tongue darts out to wet her suddenly dry lips.
"Come to me," I rumble, pitching my voice low, for her ears alone. "Claim your place at my side, in full view of the clan. Show them you are no mere prisoner, no passing fancy...but a queen in the making."
Her eyes meet mine, wide and luminous in the flickering torchlight. I hold her gaze, letting her see the depth of my hunger, my need, the raw and ruthless certainty of my claim on her.
"I...I don't know if I can," she whispers, her voice trembling. "Grok, they're all watching, judging. And my people... how can I betray them?"
My heart clenches at the vulnerable quaver in her tone, the genuine fear and self-doubt shadowing her expression. Even now, even after all we've shared, all she's seen...a part of her still sees ogres as beasts, her enemies at war. She plays her part as the Red Blade even now, lifting her chin in defiance, her hand closing on an invisible sword.
But I know better. I see the silk beneath the steel, the fragility behind the strong facade. She is meant for me, meant to be my queen...and it's time she understood that, once and for all.
"You could never dishonor your people," I say fiercely, holding her gaze with the force of my conviction. "What is between us is bigger than human or ogre, bigger than warlord or warrior. You are my heart, my backbone, the very air in my lungs. Without you, I am just another brute with a blade, another tyrant scrambling for scraps of power and glory. But with you at my side...I am a king, Lily. Your king."
I extend my hand to her once more, a lifeline, a promise. "And a king needs his queen. Now, come...and let there be no more doubt, no more fear. Only certainty, only strength...only us."
For a long, breathless moment, she remains motionless, frozen between the pull of her own desire and the push of her lingering hesitation. The hall seems to hold its collective breath, every heart pounding in sync with my own as we await her decision, her choice.
And then, like a dam bursting, like a wildfire igniting...she moves.
Her chin dips, a flicker of challenge in her gaze, and she steps forward, gathering her skirts in her hands. Slowly, deliberately, she hikes the fabric up to her thighs, baring the creamy perfection of her legs to the hungry eyes of the horde.
A low, guttural sound ripples through the crowd, part gasp, part groan, all raw, visceral want. I can practically feel the heat of their stares, the prickling weight of their covetous hunger, and it makes my hackles rise, my lips peel back from my fangs in a silent snarl of warning.
Mine, that snarl says, vicious and implacable. Look all you like, you curs, but touch her and die screaming.
Lily must sense it too, the growing tension, the barely leashed violence simmering in the air. But she doesn't falter, doesn't so much as miss a step as she continues her slow, sinuous advance, the fluid roll of her hips, the graceful sway of her body turning the simple act of walking into a dance of sensual provocation.
A snarl builds in my throat at the blatant display, my protective instincts warring with the dark thrill of showing her off, flaunting my possession. But it's fleeting, drowned out by the sudden roaring of my blood as she places one dainty foot on the throne between my splayed thighs, then the other.
The throne creaks ominously as she settles her weight, ancient bones and battle-worn leather protesting the addition of her slight form. But it holds, this seat of savage power and bloodstained glory, cradling her like the rare, precious treasure she is.
Her scent engulfs me, roses and woman and the earthy musk of arousal, and I breathe it in like a drowning man sucking down air, filling my lungs, my head, my very soul with her essence.
And then she's straddling me, the heat of her core a brand even through the barrier of my breeches, her hands braced on my shoulders as she slowly lowers herself onto my lap. Her skirts pool around us, shielding the most intimate details from view, but there's no mistaking the roll of her hips, the breathy little moan that escapes her parted lips.
"Grok," she whispers, and the sound of my name on her tongue, husky and needful, nearly undoes me. "Are you...are you sure you want to do this? To claim me so openly, so irrevocably...it will change everything. There will be no going back."
I cup her face in my hands, my claws pricking her delicate skin, framing her in a cage of lethal strength and ruthless control. She meets my gaze steadily, trustingly, the green of her eyes dark and depthless with mingled desire and devotion.
"I have never been more certain of anything in my life," I breathe, the words a vow, an oath sworn in blood and bone and the unbreakable bonds of the mating dance. "You are my fate, Lily Thornwood. My destiny, my future...my forever. And I will claim you, again and again, in every way that matters...until there is no corner of this world or any other that does not know the truth of what we are to each other."
Her breath catches, her eyes widening. "Grok," she chokes out, my name a broken prayer, a benediction. “I don’t know what happens next, but I know you are my heart...my king."
"My queen," I answer fiercely, and then I'm kissing her, devouring her, drinking down her soft cries and sweeter surrender like the finest of wines. She opens for me instantly, her lips parting, her tongue darting out to dance and duel with my own in a clash of heat and hunger, passion and possession.
I plunder the honeyed recesses of her mouth even as my hands map the lush curves and delicate hollows of her body, learning her anew, claiming every inch of her as my own. She arches into my touch, a wanton little mewl vibrating against my lips as I palm the ripe swells of her breasts, rolling and tugging at the pebbled peaks until they strain against the fabric of her bodice.
"That's it," I rumble against her throat, my hands falling to her waist, guiding the sinuous roll of her hips as she grinds down on the throbbing bulk of my arousal. "Take what you need, sweet. Use me for your pleasure, right here before the entire clan. Show them how well I satisfy you, how perfectly I fill you..."
She shudders in my arms, her head lolling back, exposing the creamy column of her throat. I latch onto it hungrily, bathing her with my tongue, grazing her with my fangs in a primal claiming, a mark of possession.
"Let them see," I growl, my voice a rough, grating rasp, every word seared with heat and command. "Let them all bear witness, as you ride me, milk me...take me deeper than any other, until you're wrung dry and senseless with pleasure. Until my scent is in your very skin, my seed branding you to your core..."
Around us, the hall has fallen deathly silent, every eye riveted on the spectacle of the warlord and his mate, locked in a dance as old as time itself. I can smell their shock, their disbelief...but also their rising lust, the pheromone-thick musk of arousal.
It seeps into the air like smoke, curling around us, stroking over our skin like hungry, questing fingers. It mingles with Lily's scent, creating a perfume of raw, carnal need that sets my blood to boiling, my cock to throbbing with the fierce demand for completion.
