Page 156 of A Trial of Two Worlds
A wild rush of magic flowed through Daxton’s bite as pleasure, not pain, soared through me. His hips bucked hard against me, each thrust sending me higher. I moved with him, his teeth still buried in my flesh as the magic continued to build between us, heightening everything. I fisted his hair, closing my eyes as I gave intothe pull, allowing our magic to blend together, accepting his mark, and submitting, only to him.
My orgasm tore through me as my inner walls clenched around his pulsing cock. Daxton raised up; lips stained a beautiful crimson with wild silver flashing in his eyes. He grabbed my hips and pounded into me, roaring as he came, his chest heaving as I quivered beneath him.
Ice coated the ground beneath us as fire blazed along my fingers, bending when I reached out to touch him.
Daxton opened his eyes to meet mine as a wave of power vibrated between us.
Our bond was unbreakable.
Daxton was mine, and I was his.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Shaw Black
“Where the fuck did they go?” I roared.
“Do you really want to be a spectator to what they’re likely doing?” Castor taunted in his annoying sing-song voice. I was beginning to tolerate his flamboyant facade, but it was still far from my liking. “How scandalous of you, Shaw. I didn’t know you liked to watch.”
“She’s my alpha—”
“And he is myking,” Castor shot back, emphasizing the final word as he released his hold on his mate.
My eyes widened with shock. “Excuse me, king?”
“The memories Minaeve stole,” Castor began. “Daxton united the three realms against the onslaught of humans and mages. He’s notjustour high prince. He is High King of the Inner Kingdom.”
“Their pairing unites Valdor.”
“And the plot of the Gods becomes clear,” Castor said with a huff of a laugh. “Can you believe it?”
I could. I did.
“Gods be damned,”I cursed to myself, ignoring the questions following my abrupt departure from Castor and Nyssa.
Unable to do anything, I turned and marched across the clearing toward the healers’ tents. To where the ever-present pull and feel of a thundering drum beat echoed in my chest, growing the closer I got to her.
My panther knew immediately.
The second I saw her and detected her scent, she consumed my world. I was as anchored to her as the moon was to the sun.
The High Fae were occupied with regrouping, and I was a lone shifter in these lands with my alpha currently occupied with her mate. I was angry at first that they vanished, but then again, if the roles were reversed, I would’ve done the same.
Skylar is a phoenix.
I still couldn’t believe she returned from the dead, let alone shifted into the mythical firebird of legend. She was also larger than Gilen’s roc, a fact that I knew Rhea would never tire of pointing out to anyone who asked.
“Shifter,” a High Fae warrior in red whispered as I passed,giving me a nod of respect, which I returned.
Well, at least Skylar isn’t the only one gaining ground with the fae.
My wounds from the battle were already healing thanks to my magic. The gashes along my back and shoulder added to the array of battle wounds I carriedwith a unique sense of pride. I had to. Otherwise, my scars would have led to my demise years ago.
I glanced at my hands, flexing them as the scars on my forearms gleamed in the morning sun against my skin. I steadied my breathing as I continued forward, forcing the familiar rising feelings of dread and hopelessness back down into the pit from which they came.
“Hurry up!” a female voice commanded.
I froze along the canvas tents aligned across the outskirts of the camp, a handful of paces in front of me.
