Page 146 of Elysian

“Amara,” he choked out, his eyes close to being overtaken by the pulsing red around his pupils. “Leave.”

Grief, anger, sadness—all of it flooded across his face. Flitting one after the other.

“I do not want to hurt you.”

He seemed so lost. So angry, so lacking in control—the way he had been after I Awakened. The grimoire categorized bloodlust as need so severe it caused uncontrollable reactions within a Warlord. There was no fixed time when bloodlust would take them, unlike Heats, which only assaulted redbloods once an annum.

His hands trembled on my arms.

“I am here,” I whispered, gripping the ends of his hair.

His face tensed. He bared his teeth into a sneer and turned me, yanking my gown up. A gasp stuck in my throat when he slid his length inside me, moving at his alarmingly fast speed. I jolted forward with an exhale.

His hand grasped the back of my neck, lowering my head and forcing my belly into the throne.

Harsh, punishing thrusts that slapped his skin against my thighs began. He fed his knot into me, the frantic thrusts so fast that I was already falling off the pinnacle. I screamed, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes. Cassiel did not cease.

He fucked me.

Hard and encompassing. A sort of claiming that showed me how much strength he always held back. Each ram slapped his testicles against my thighs, sending the thud echoing across the Grand Hall to mingle with my cries.

I sank my nails into the fabric covering the seat. My fingers turned white from how I clutched it.

Bliss rippled down my spine with his incessant plunging, my channel yielding to him. Moisture dampened between my thighs. I was terribly lost in his claiming. With every hard demand, I met it and took it. My hip pinched, but the pleasure overwhelmed the discomfort. His knot popped free and entered in rapid succession.

I could no longer think.

My arms gave out, and I fell onto my forearms. Cassiel pulled my hips higher until my cheek pressed against the cushion.

His knot swelled, the pressure amplifying as he stopped. My shout wove with his, my sex clamping onto his length. Everything ceased to have meaning. All that existed was us. Cassiel and Amara. Stripped bare of all titles.

I slumped forward, boneless.

Cassiel collected me before my forehead met the other armrest of the throne. He pulled me up against his chest and sat on the throne.

His arms wound around my waist, pulling the bottom of my gown around my legs. I leaned against his faintly moving chest. Cassiel stroked my arm, moving up and down in gentle caresses.

I was unsure how long we sat panting in each other’s arms. His knot softened and our need dripped down my legs. He grabbed my knees and tucked me across his lap.

“You are not supposed to be here,” he rumbled in a hoarse tone.

I glared at him. “It took convincing.”

“Of course it did,” he grunted. “You have a way with words.”

“It’s best you remember.”

His lips twitched, and he turned serious. “You are not angry?”

“I am,” I retorted. He tensed, and I let the words hover between us. “But I also understand this was your vengeance to mete out.”

In the silence, he closed his eyes.

“I finished it,” he breathed. When he met my eyes, he cupped my face. His eyes were wide and searching. “I finished it.” His voice cracked.

“You did, Cassiel,” I croaked, cupping his jaw.

His eyebrow furrowed and he leaned into my touch. He rested his forehead against mine, arms around my waist, and shuddered.