Page 99 of She Who Holds My Wrath

The bond inside me roars in recognition as her eyes land on me as I appear through the darkness The Void created.

“Little flower.” The words slip out before I can stop it.

When she flings her hand out towards me, finally calling her flame, desperate and wild, I can’t help but stare in adoration. But when it reaches me and disappears, I feel The Void at my core yawn open and swallow it whole. It hurts to see her eyes widen, looking at me like I’m a complete stranger.

“What are you?” she whispers.

That hurts more than being dead. “It’s me,” I force out. “It’s Korithax.”

Chapter 35

DAISY

We don’t speak as we return to our old chambers.

We don’t need to.

The hallway feels longer than I remember, every step echoing too loudly, like the palace itself is holding its breath since the return of its king. The door opens with a soft groan, the hinges protesting disuse. The moment we step inside, the air changes.

Everything is cold, still… untouched. Dust clings to the edges of the furniture, to the carved headboard, and the stone floor where sunlight once spilled in lazy patterns. The room smells faintly of must, old incense, and something else. Absence, maybe. I haven’t been back in here since he died. I couldn’t. The idea of sleeping in this room alone felt worse than any nightmare.

Korithax closes the door behind us, and for a heartbeat, we just stand there, staring at the remnants of a life we never got to finish. The bed. The closet. The place where he used to sit and pretend he wasn’t continuously watching me. My chest tightens at the memories, but then he looks at me, and everything else disappears.

The bond snaps taut—a violent, aching thing that’s dragging us together like gravity has suddenly remembered us. His hands are on me before my mind can catch up. It’s warm, familiar, and desperate. I gasp as my back hits the door, his mouth crashing into mine like he’s afraid I’ll evaporate if he doesn’t hold on hard enough.

There’s no hesitation, no carefulness. There’s only pure, carnal need.

Months of grief and rage and longing collide all at once, and I kiss him back like it might be the only way to convince myself this is real. His hands hike into my hair, tugging just enough to make my breath hitch; my fingers grasp at his armour, pulling him closer.

“I thought I lost you,” I whisper against his mouth, the words trembling apart as soon as they leave me. They taste of grief, of sleepless nights, of every moment I forced myself to keep breathing without him.

His forehead presses to mine, his breath shuddering as if he’s fighting his own storm. “Never.”

That single word is soft, hoarse, barely louder than a breath, yet it strikes through me harder than any scream ever could. Something locked tight inside my chest finally splinters open. Months of numbness, fury, denial, and aching loneliness crack all at once, and I break against him with a sob I cannot hold back.

We move together, clumsy and frantic at first, like neither of us knows where to begin after so much loss and so much waiting. Hands everywhere, mouths finding skin, the clanking sound of armour hitting the floor alongside the tearing sound of fabric as we stumble towards the bed. Tears are spilling freely, mixing between us—salt and grief and relief tangled into every kiss. The cold sheets barely register before heat floods everything, before the world narrows to touch and breath and the way his name feels like it’s being torn from my throat.

It’s messy. It’s desperate. It’s us.

Korithax doesn’t waste a single second. The moment the last of our clothes are torn away, he surges forwards and buries himself inside me in one brutal, desperate thrust—straight to the hilt. A raw, broken scream rips from my throat as my body stretches around his thick length, the sudden fullness borderline excruciating, as though he’s splitting me open after months of aching emptiness.

But he doesn’t stop. He can’t. His hips snap forwards again and again in a punishing rhythm, driving deeper with every stroke, claiming me like a man who’s clawed his way back from the grave just to feel me again. My nails rake down his sweat-slicked back, leaving red trails that only seem to spur him on. I whimper and moan, the sounds tumbling helplessly from my lips as my walls flutter and clench around him, trying to adjust to the overwhelming invasion.

“Gods… you’re real,” he growls against my ear, voice hoarse and ragged with disbelief and raw hunger.

His burning gaze locks onto mine, those fierce eyes I thought I’d never see again now blazing with three months of pent-up longing, and feral need. Sweat beads on his brow and drips onto my chest as he pounds into me relentlessly, the wet slap of skin against skin filling the room like a desperate heartbeat.

I arch beneath him, legs wrapping tight around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs to pull him even deeper. Every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure-pain through me, stoking the fire low in my belly until I feel like I might shatter.

He dips his head, capturing one of my nipples between his teeth. The sharp graze of his canines against my sensitive peak makes me cry out, the sting blooming into molten heat that shoots straight to my core. He sucks hard—greedy, almost punishing—tongue flicking and swirling as he devours the soft flesh like a starving man. The contrast of sharp teeth and a hot, wet mouth sends lightning bolts of ecstasy tracing through my body, making my inner walls squeeze and pulse around him with every pull.

“Korithax!” His name breaks on my lips like a prayer and a sob. Tears of overwhelming emotion track down my cheeks. Joy, relief, and the sheer intensity of being filled by him again after believing I never would.

He releases my nipple with a wet pop, only to draw his mouth up my throat, biting and sucking at the frantic pulse there. “I died without you,” he rasps between thrusts. “Every second in the dark, I fought to come back to this. To you. To the way you feel wrapped around me… so fucking tight. So fucking perfect.”

His pace grows even more frantic, hips slamming into mine with such brutal force I can feel my skin bruising, the head of his cock dragging against that devastating spot inside me with every relentless stroke. My pleasure coils tighter and tighter, winding like a spring until my entire body trembles beneath him. My thighs shake; my breath comes in short, desperate gasps.

“I’m coming. Korithax, I’m coming,” I cry out, digging my nails into him so harshly, I know I’ve drawn blood.