“You and me. Every sunrise, every midnight, every tomorrow,” she said, like she’d taken the words right from my mind. It was a vow, a promise becoming her lifeline after she lost so much. “You make me whole, too, Malakai Blastwood, and I will spend every tomorrow loving you as you deserve to be loved.”
I was going to argue, but as if she knew, Mila took that moment to lift herself up and slam down. And this deep, she felt too damn good for full sentences to form.
The soft promises we’d been making melted into desire. I gripped Mila’s hips, rocking her, and she threw her head back, one hand kneading her breast, still covered in that white lace. Silky platinum hair tumbled around her, and I watched her claim me as she rode, committing every sight and breath and sound to memory.
“Spirits, I’ve needed you,” she moaned.
“Don’t worry,” I replied, both of us breathless, “we’re going to make up for weeks today.”
Mila’s eyes snapped to mine, her hands braced on my chest as she swiveled her hips. One palm met my Bind, her nails curving around the edges. I shot upright, holding her in my lap and crushing my lips to hers, sealing every vow as we moved. I dipped my head, catching one of her lace-clad nipples in my mouth, and sucked.
“Angels, Malakai,” she purred as the rough fabric rubbed against her, and I could tell she was close.
I pulled that lace down, wanting to see all of her, worship all of her. I teased both of her breasts, until she was panting, then I worked my lips back up her neck. Her chest pressed against mine—her warm skin against my fucked-up body—and I was ready to explode.
I flipped her back down to the mattress and brought her leg to my shoulder, hooking her ankle behind my head. “Nothing but death can take me from you, General,” I swore as I pounded into her. Harsh strokes intent on searing those words into her spirit. “No vengeful god or wrathful Angels.”
Mila gasped, her orgasm crashing like a tidal wave, and I followed, spilling into her as I kissed her through it.
Once we caught our breath, Mila climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe, but I snatched it back.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“What areyoudoing?” I repeated.
She eyed the bathing chamber, then the mess between her legs. But that only solidified my plans, my blood heating and cock hardening again.
Mila’s eyes dropped, brows raising. “Already?”
“Weeks, Mila. We haveweeksto make up for.”
We spentthe day closed in her room—our room now, she reminded me. She told me of every day she’d been wading through her grief over Lyria and how afraid she’d been for me, where all our friends were now. I elaborated on what Echnid was planning and the pieces I’d gathered of other realms. I wasn’t sure how they fit together. And when the sun set and the constellations slipped into their formations, Mila opened the tall glass doors leading out to the dunes, and we laid in the sand.
“When this is over, what do you want to do with your first tomorrow?” I asked her as she curled into my side, her head on my chest and my hand propped behind my own.
She hummed in thought, trailing gentle nails over my tattoo. “Maybe have a nice, long drink in a tavern without worrying about our lives being taken the next day.”
I laughed. “A tavern? That’s your dream for tomorrow?”
“Maybe not a tavern specifically,” she mused, shrugging a shoulder. “I would be happy with a tavern, but truly? I just want ease. I want to relax and turn off our minds for a bit. Maybe focus on work that doesn’t involve the stakes of others’ lives but simply making them smile.” She paused. “What’s your first tomorrow dream?”
“I don’t know,” I confessed, brushing a hand over her arm.
“Have you given more thought to the Undertaking?” Mila asked.
“I don’t think I’d want to do it after Echnid. After everything he did to me…I don’t want to be tied to the Warrior God or Angels that way. I think I just want to be a normal, non-ascended warrior. And live a long happy life in peace.”
“Peace sounds good.” Mila considered, then whispered, “Lyria always made people smile. It was one of my favorite things about her.”
That fact about her best friend hovered in the night air. It wasn’t something she needed a response to. Just a thought to ensure Lyria was remembered every day.
“You could make people smile in a tavern,” I offered, squeezing her hip.
Mila flashed me a mischievous grin. “I certainly have.”
I teasingly pulled a strand of her hair. “Tell me about them. Those memories with Lyria.”
And she recounted some of her favorite nights in taverns across Gallantia, the pair leaving a streak of smiles throughout the darkest corners of the continent. And the thing about Mila was, no matter what she was facing internally, she could make people smile anywhere. And that was her own kind of magic. One that granted me more peace than I ever thought possible.
