She shatters in my arms again.
My roar breaks free, low and thunderous, as I spill inside her, filling her with every last drop of my claim.
I hold her through it, tail wrapped tight, hands locked on her hips, unwilling to let her drift even an inch away.
She is mine. Not just for this night, not just for this breath, but forever.
When her trembling subsides, I lap gently at the mark, sealing it with reverence.
She is limp against me, boneless and radiant, her pulse steady beneath my tongue.
“Mine,” I whisper again, softer this time.
Not a demand.
A vow.
Chapter 13
Phoebe
Castletide
I’d barely recovered from the afterglow of Kael’s thoroughly decadent claiming of me before Amber bustled in the next morning and I found myself alone.
My lady’s maid greeted me with a smile, kinder than the first day I’d met her, maybe because I got along with her son, Corin—and she announced the beginning of what she called theSeven Day Festival.
Seven days.
A week of celebration strung like pearls along the Tidal Lands’ coast.
Kael hadn’t asked me if I wanted it.
Of course he hadn’t.
Lord of Water, master of tides, master of me—at least according to him.
But when I step out into the torch lit square dressed in the traditional clothes of the Lady of Castletide—a long vest-like tunic atop soft leather pants, knee high boots, and a blouse with billowing sleeves—I feel kind of like a pirate queen.
Even better, Amber told me these clothes repel water.
So, I won’t get all damp and uncomfortable since the castle basically sits right on top of an ocean and the air here is always moist and tastes of salt.
And I’m almost embarrassed to admit, I don’t hate it.
Every article of clothing I wear seems to be made precisely for me and my body.
There’s no pulling or squeezing or revealing bits I want to keep hidden.
Truth is, on Earth, my clothes were sorely lacking. But that’s just because what’s typically on sale for plus size women isn’t exactly stylish.
Here, I don’t feel out of place or too big, and that’s, well, that’s hard to understand.
I should be angry. Fighting to get home.
But I know deep inside I won’t because really—what would I be going back to?
There’s no one waiting for me.
