Page 31 of Fallen Nocturne

My legs tighten around him and his thrusts lose their rhythm. A groan tears from him. His hips stutter against mine, and a violent shudder runs through him, vibrating through my chest. I hold him tighter through his release, and a pulse of warmth fills me completely. It leaves us both trembling.

He collapses on top of me.

His body slides down until his head rests heavy against my chest. I keep him there, my face pressed against the top of his head. His breath slows against my skin and mine slows against his hair.

We lie together on the altar in the quiet that follows. His weight settles over me, heavy and warm. I don’t want him to move. I wrap both arms around him, unwilling to let even the smallest distance open between us.

I press my lips to his temple. Tears leak silently down my cheeks because it’s perfect. This is so perfect it hurts.

It feels like coming home.

Chapter 5 Rhianelle

Iwake with the phantom sensation of hands still on my skin.

The dream clings to me like morning mist, carrying echoes of the ruined palace, the masked man and the way he made me come apart against that wall. My body remembers even as the details grow hazy. The ache between my thighs is real enough, sweet and insistent.

Landon has taken me in our dreams.

Heat floods my face as I dress. My fingers fumble with laces as memories crash over me. His mouth on me, his hands pinning my wrists, the way he commanded me to run. After the tender lovemaking on the altar, he takes me again with my cheek pressed to rough stone and his hand fisted in my hair. I let him, and I beg for more.

Gods. We’ve done that. My mate and I, in dreams.

I know dreams can connect people, especially those bound by magic. The mate bond must have carried me to him while we slept.

Would he mention it when I see him? Perhaps he will give me a knowing look or one of those private smiles meant only for me.

The thought makes my stomach flip with nerves and anticipation.

Morning air bites pleasantly at my cheeks as I follow the path toward the training grounds. Leaves burn gold and crimson overhead, crunching beneath my boots whenever the wind scatters them across the trail. My bad leg aches with every step, but the dull throb has become familiar enough to ignore.

Silver birches line the path, their pale trunks glowing in the early light. As I pass beneath them, my thoughts return to Landon. Perhaps he will whisper, “I missed you,” softly enough that only I can hear. Something to acknowledge what we’d shared.

I can hear the wyverns before I see them. The leathery snap of wings, the rumbling calls they make to each other. The training grounds sprawl across a wide plateau, ringed by standing stones that have been there since before the elves claimed this land.

Landon stands near the cliff edge, conferring with Tarian the keeper.

My breath catches.

He looks beautiful in the morning light. His red hair is only partially dyed black today, the copper roots catching the sun like wire. He has rolled his sleeves to his elbows, revealing strong forearms marked with old scars. The mate bond hums between us, that golden thread I’ve felt since the day I woke up.

I approach slowly, my heart hammering. Would he turn and know? Would I see recognition in his eyes?

He turns at the sound of my footsteps, and his face brightens with a smile.

“Rhianelle.” My name in his voice is warm. “Ready to work with Coral?”

I search his expression for any sign of recognition. A knowing glint. A private smile. Anything.

Nothing.

He looks at me the same way he always does. Landon is gentle and attentive but completely oblivious.

“I...” My voice comes out strange. I clear my throat. “Yes.”

Maybe he is simply being discreet, too polite to acknowledge the dream here where anyone might see us.

“Where is she?” I ask, trying to sound normal even as heat creeps up my neck. I can’t stop remembering. His hands in my hair, his voice in my ear calling me thief.