He growls at my words, and I let his hair go. His hands fist the blanket, the fabric tearing under his grip. “I don’t want to break you,” he growls, and I smile.
He grabs my hips, jerking me closer as he kneels between my legs. His skin ripples as he tries to fight against himself, but I lock my legs around his waist, yanking him to me. My arm wraps around the back of his neck, and my hand fists in his hair.
“You won’t break me, but I’m gonna break you,” I purr before jerking his head to the side and sinking my teeth into his neck. Zeke groans deeply before I feel his cock shove inside me. I pull my teeth from his skin, my eyes flickering oddly as I let him go.
Blood trickles down his chest, and I lift my head, letting my tongue trace the path left by the blood. Zeke wraps an arm around my hips and rolls, pulling me on top. I straddle him, his cock still deep inside me. I rock my hips before sitting up. Planting my hands on his chest, I roll my hips. His lips part as he grabs my waist, lifting me and driving me back down on him. I groan at the feeling and toss my head back.
“You truly are made for us,” Zeke murmurs. He lifts me off him, shifting us slightly until I’m straddling his lap facing away from his chest, and he guides my body down onto him, easing himself slowly inside before he sits up.
He rolls my hips against him, the new position feeling deeper, yet awkward, as he controls my movements. He fills me with gentle but persistent thrusts, my body trembling as wave after wave of pleasure rushes through me.
I arch my back against his chest and cry out in blissful abandon, feeling intoxicated from the sensations coursing through me. One hand slides around me, his fingers teasing my clit, drawing another moan from my lips. His other hand moves to sweep my hair over one shoulder, allowing me to move against him.
I pant, my head thrown back, when he rolls my clit between his fingers. He teases me, and I moan in need, pressing against him as he continues to drive me wild with sensations, both new and familiar.
“Can I mark you?” Zeke whispers, his sharp teeth grazing across my shoulder to my neck.
“Yes,” I moan, the sound airy as I continue moving, chasing that euphoric feeling again. He bites down without hesitation, his finger stroking along my clit. Pleasure rushes through me, and I cry out as the feeling of fire moves inside me.
His teeth remain embedded in my neck like a brand until I feel the bond snap into place, his emotions rushing through me, along with my own pleasure. My walls squeeze his cock, and he groans, letting his teeth slip from my neck as ecstasy crashes over me in waves.
I finally collapse against him, panting hard, and with one last thrust, Zeke joins me, coming undone before burying his head between the crook of my neck and shoulder.
Zeke pulls me to lie down beside him, and we stay this way until exhaustion claims us, and we drift off, tangled together among the sheets.
Chapter Thirty-One
The fury that consumes me is a storm unleashed. My hands become vessels of rage as I hurl another crystal decanter against the wall. The entire room is pretty much destroyed.
Zirah is gone.
She left me and went with Zeke, the man who hurt her the most, the man I had to protect her from. Perhaps that is what eats me up the most. That she’d rather be with a man who tortured her than be with one who would kill for her.
Caught up in my anger, I don’t notice the door opening. James appears like a ghost come to witness torment, judging silently for the most part. We’ve never really gotten along because he always has to make snarky comments about my choices. He is harmless but over-opinionated when it comes to my life. Collapsing in a heap, I lean against the wall trying to catch my breath.
His gaze scans the wreckage of my room before it lands on me, slumped on the floor, a half-empty bottle of aged whiskey clenched in my shaking hand.
“Here to gloat?” I ask, turning my attention to the window to see the moon has crested past the halfway point. I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing just how blind I’ve been to the time. It’s nearly 5 a.m.
His voice is a calm contrast to the turmoil raging within me. “Now why would I come to gloat? I don’t like seeing any of my nephews upset,” he states, and I scoff.
“Well, you’ve been hellbent on convincing Zirah I am the evil one out of us. At least I have reasons for the things I’ve done.” I mumble the last part.
“Your reasons don’t matter. I have not been trying to sabotage you as you may think. I’ve been ensuring she has the full picture because your entire species relies on her breaking that curse. If she chooses wrong she dooms you all. There are more than just you and your brothers at stake.” I know he’s right, but his words still piss me off.
He watches me like I’m a naughty child who needs to be scolded. I should be ashamed of myself, yet I’m not. I’m too hurt and angry to care for his judgmental stare. He stops in front of me, his boots crunching in the shattered glass. He sits on the edge of my bed, clad in a simple white shirt, a faded brown cardigan, and a pair of black trousers. From this angle, I can see his long black hair tied at his nape, though some pieces escaped and splay out at his temples, and the lines on his face seem deeper. The stress of recent events has taken its toll on us all.
My uncle sighs deeply as he takes in my appearance. “Are you over your tantrum?” he asks. I glare up at him, and a guttural growl rumbles from deep within my chest as I fight to stay in this form, knowing if I give into my anger again, I may lose more time. My fingers grip the whiskey bottle tightly as I take another swig.
“She hates me.” The pain that lies beneath my anger scorches my heart like a hot iron. I can also feel the heavy, decaying sensation that stems from her rejection. Death is coming.
James starts to speak, but my anger rears its ugly head again. “Don’t! This is your fault,” I accuse. “You were the one who suggested she go to each of our kingdoms. She rejected me because of you!” Uncle James says nothing, but he doesn’t have to. I can see the guilt in his eyes.
The tense atmosphere in the room shifts, a worrying quietness settling between us. He slowly rises from my bed, his gaze locked on mine as he steps closer.
“You are angry,” he begins softly, and despite the gentle tone of his voice, it does nothing to soothe the rage inside me. “You must remember you are not the only one cursed, so is she.” His hand lightly rests upon my shoulder. “She has to choose not who she loves, but who can be redeemed, think about that, Regan. What would be the consequence of choosing wrong?”
I take a deep breath, leaning my head back against the wall before responding. “I know,” I mutter quietly, releasing a heavy sigh and tipping the bottle to my lips again.
