Chapter 162 Dying Sun

Chapter 162 Dying Sun
❀ Maeve ❀

Some long-buried part of me rushed to the fore with startling force, shivers racing down my spine.

My breathing slowed.

Hand trembling, I stroke my fingers over his torso, his heat searing through the fabric of his shirt.

“My gods, I love your body.”

It’d been too long.

He looked on warily, as though being touched by me was an unpredictable, wild thing.

My wrath was at the helm, hankering for dominion. But for the first time, it didn’t demand a kill.

Nearly staggering from his potent musk, I sank my claws into my mate’s hair, pulling his nape down for a kiss.

He responded instantly.

A groan.

His lips were hot and firm, sucking mine between them, slanting so sensuously.

I whimpered, thrusting my tongue, squirming in delight when he met it with his own strong strokes.

Suddenly, a sweeping wave of pleasure burst in my mouth. I lapped greedily at the blood my fangs had coaxed from his lips.

Growls. Pants. The kiss burned out of control.

A sharp ripping sounded, and I looked down to see his shirt hanging from my claws.

Handsome male. Tan skin and stone-cut muscles. The hard planes of his pecs were a sultry heaven, dark hair dusting a decadent trail into his pants.

My touches made his heart thrum louder. And oh, how his flat nipples hardened. When I grazed my fingers across them, he hissed between his teeth.

I licked my lips at the evidence of his desire, pulsing against the fabric.

When I cupped him—all of him, a low vibration built in his chest, but he kept his hands to himself, spine straight.

I glanced coyly up at him.

“Don’t hold back, wolf.” Lifting myself by the balls of my toes, I whispered, “Scour me with your fire—“

No sooner had the words left my lips than he threw me onto the bed.

His eyes flashed ice blue, the color of his beast. And I loved it.

I loved the way his warrior body covered mine, his hands roving over my sides, my hips.

All the while, I chased more of that delectable taste of his blood.

I scraped my fangs over his pulse, his guttural rasp helpless against my ear.

His unyielding shaft ground against my front, the heat of it promising decadent things to come.

Suddenly, I hungered for a certain type of stimulation, the burning, yet drugging rush of venom from a bite.

“Bite me, please…” I keened.

His big palm branded my breast possessively, his breaths ghosting over my neck.

“Anything you want. I’m all yours,” I gasped desperately, “drink me.”

He tensed, his movements slowing.

I clawed his back, arching mine to brush my nipples harder against him.

Why wasn’t he ravening? Biting? Hissing into my flesh as his fangs tore a path to my blood?

I writhed, strained, my sex clenching.

“I can’t drink your blood.” He rumbled, forehead pressed against my neck as he paused completely.

The haze of lust dissipated into horror.

Gods, no.

We lay there, panting. Silent.

I didn’t know what to say.

I’d demanded he pierce and drink from me… like a vampire.

When Bastian moved to rise off me, I clutched his hips.

“Please, don’t go.”

Dismayed, I felt his erection soften a touch.

I hugged him tighter, my hunger and wrath receding, making way for that stubborn numbness.

If only I could cry. But I hadn’t, ever since the funerals. Mourning losses while my mate needed me had seemed selfish. But now, the repressed grief threatened the seams.

I wondered what was going through his mind. He’d suffered loss too, and couldn’t even find comfort in his own mate—

His hand rose to brush my hair from my face. Then he cupped my cheek.

“You’re not doing any wrong by mourning him. You should know that.”

“I wish I could just forget. To be right for you.”

“You’ve never not been right, kitten. And we have all the time in the world, literally, to work through this. I’m always here for you, when you’re ready.”

My eyes prickled with tears.

“I want to be ready now,” I said tightly.

He rose on his elbows to give me a soft peck on the lips. I chased it when he drew back.

“The more you force it, the harder it’ll be to heal. Just take your time.” Then his lips curled into that mind-numbing smile, his eyes kind, “I do have to leave for a minute. Ashar has been blowing up my mind through the link, and I’ve been ignoring him.”

I winced. Ignoring Ashar for a passion that wasn’t returned.

I didn’t want to let go, but I did. “Okay.”

“I’ll come right back to you, you know that.”

Another smattering of kisses over my face, and he was gone.

I’d expected the tears to flow then, but they never came.

I changed my shredded dress, pinned up my hair, and sat by the window to admire the looming sunset.

In the distance, young wolves in either form played and chased. Adults crossed the fields to and from their various objectives.

I sighed.

My two largest objectives stared me in the face, waiting for me to shed the cloak of cowardice.

But if I couldn’t be whole for my mate, how could I be whole for two kingdoms?

Even now, I could scent my vampire, see his smoldering eyes in the back of my mind. His chiseled cheekbones that never blushed, even when his eyes shimmered to betray the fact.

That single-mindedness in all his deeds and affections for me.

I inhaled deeply, my heart crumpling as I desperately tried to hold on to that memory.

I need not have tried, because it flooded me, feathered over my skin and senses so deeply I almost choked with it.

And when his scent refused to wane, that heart-stopping blend of eucalyptus and magnetic blood, I accepted the punishment with open arms—

“How you outshine a dying sun’s rays. Dare I hope the queen is pining for me?”

My every muscle seized.

Lungs fighting for air, I gripped the window ledge with sharp, trembling claws.

In addition to grief, was I to suffer hallucinations too?

But that tie between souls had never waned, and my head swam from the potent scent of a male I recognized on a soul-deep level.

With a small cry, I whirled around.

There.

In the shadows, away from the errant rays of sunlight.

Nikolai leaned against the wall, his eyes twin embers of a molten, predatory gaze.