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“Vow to me,” I whispered, turning my head to find his glowing gaze by the blue-coal, “that I will always be your mizrah.” I nuzzled my nose alongside his, our breaths mingling. “Your one and only female. Even after I give you your heir.”
I’d seen all manner of expressions on Goll’s face. His was a beautiful face to study, and I’d given in to that guilty pleasure more times than I’d care to admit.
But this visage I gazed upon now—both soft and sharp, gentle and violent, adoring and savage—this was the face of the man who’d stolen a piece of my soul the night he carried me, bleeding and terrified, out of the dungeon of Näkt Mir. He was also the king who demanded my submission in all ways to save my people.
How could my heart long for both the tyrant of Northgall and the young prince who’d saved me? Perhaps it was because hisdominance wasn’t a barbaric whip. It was a seductive promise of protection and devotion that was as hard and impenetrable as the obsidian walls of Vixet Krone. He was my fortress, and I wanted his promise that he would always be so.
“Vow to me,” I whispered against his mouth before I licked his bottom lip.
His arm at my shoulder slid to my throat as he raised partway on his knees, grinding slowly and deep. His grip at my throat was gentle but firm as he brushed his mouth against mine.
“I swear upon Vix himself, I will keep only one mate—my mizrah. For as long as I draw breath, there will only be you.” He held me tighter, eyes slipping closed as he whispered, “Only you.”
That was all I needed to hear to fall farther, the farthest, into his keeping. No matter that his vow said nothing of love or the pretty promises of a moon binding, it was enough for me. More than that, it was enough for my heart, for I felt it beating faster and harder for him, devoted solely to him.
The submission of my heart and soul to Gollaya Verbane felt as right and as true as the stars.
“Yes,” I murmured, rocking my hips in rhythm with his own.
He groaned and began to pump in and out with deeper strokes, his mouth sliding to my shoulder. “Yes,” he agreed. “You aremine.” Then he sank his fangs into my skin.
I jerked at the sudden pain, which somehow rolled into more intense pleasure, my cunny squeezing his cock as he thrust deeper. I curled one hand into his hair, finding one horn, holding him there while he claimed me the way he was supposed to—as a mate, not his whore.
He thrusted hard and deep, his fingers circling the sensitive bud between my legs. He licked at the bite then brushed his lips up to my ear. “You are so fucking beautiful, Una.” He pounded me harder, still holding me upright in his strong grip, his bodycurling around me. “You are,” he paused, his cock swelling inside me, “everything.”
Then he groaned and held himself deep, his seed pulsing inside me. The throb of his cock within me and his attentive fingers sent me careening toward a second climax.
“Yes, my mizrah. Come on your king’s cock.”
I wasn’t exactly proud of the fact that my body always wanted to obey Goll. But in that moment, coming as he commanded sent my spirit into heady oblivion.
He growled into my ear, squeezing my throat and stroking my quim, grinding deep as he continued to fill me up with his seed. My body welcomed it, welcomed him. His dominance. His aggression. All of him.
I’m not sure how much later, for I felt suspended in that place of ecstasy, he lay me gently down on the fur and pulled from my body. I was so tired, overcome with the anxiety and emotions of the day—of the past weeks, if I were truthful. My eyes slipped closed while the rumble of thunder drifted farther away.
I felt him curl around me and a blanket of some kind drape over us. He pulled me closer into the curve of his body, lifting my head to settle on his bicep. I hummed a wistful sigh, my mind already drifting.
“Sleep, Una,” he coaxed in a soft whisper as he cradled me close.
His warm body cocooning mine and the sound of the distant storm and the sensation of feeling safe sent me straight to sleep.
Chapter 26
GOLL
I did not sleep.I could not. For the first time since I’d broken out of my father’s dungeon, since I’d slain him and taken his throne, since I’d defended my people and battled against the moon fae, I finally had what I wanted right here in my arms.
No. I could not sleep through this profound emotion suffusing my mind and spirit. I didn’t want to miss a moment of this feeling lost in dreams that could not compare to reality. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this before. Supreme, undaunted joy.
I’d felt triumphant, satisfied, and even content at my achievements since I’d rallied allies in secret and then killed my father to take his throne. But never this. Never unbridled happiness.
I stared down at her, so lovely and still, blissfully asleep in my arms. I frowned at the bite mark on her shoulder. I hadn’t been able to stop myself, even though I knew it would be painful. She likely thought me a monster because of it. I’d apologize later, but I wasn’t sorry. I wanted everyone to see that I’d marked heras a proper mizrah should be. There would be no question now whether the Princess of Issos was truly my mizrah.
There should have been no question after the Servium, but I’d seen the side glances from courtiers, heard the whispers that I never went to her bedchamber, that it was a formal arrangement for political purposes and no other reason.
Now she wore my bite and soon she would bear the roundness of my child. Even so, none of that satisfied me as much as this right here. Us, alone.
She roused and mumbled something in her sleep. I smiled. Awake, she was the most formidable woman I knew. Asleep, she seemed sweet and fragile, a precious treasure I wanted to protect and keep all to myself.
