A drake, I was certain, was going to be Bjorn’s arch-enemy, when he first joined our bond.
“Good,” I tell him plainly, not sugar-coating anything around Bjorn. “We got quite a lot of energy from it. Though… it didn’t last.”
Even as I say it, I feel how Baldur’s curses have drained me back down to about fifty percent of what I’d gained with Mikkel. I don’t diginto Mikkel’s energy right now, because I’m being present with Bjorn; as Bjorn nods in understanding, though, I know he felt it, too.
“Ström and I got an enormous boost from that while we were in the mirror hall.” Bjorn’s hands tighten around my waist, gripping me, before they relax. “I’ve got maybe forty percent of it now. Not enough to shift yet.”
“Not yet,” I agree, as I heave a hard sigh. “We’ll never be able to go up against the Black Dragon like this. What a shitshow…”
“We’ll figure something out, Yava. I promise,” Bjorn rumbles as he kneads my waist, comforting.
I wrap my arms up around Bjorn’s neck, leaning into him now as we cuddle on the chair. As I set my forehead against his, letting myself be real with him and not hold back how frustrated I’m feeling about all this, he wraps one arm around me, stroking his fingers up and down my back.
It’s nice, something he used to do when we were together, back in the day. As I sink into his powerful presence, remembrances flood me of all the good times we had. It makes me sad and happy all at once to recall how much Bjorn and I share.
Though we’re learning each other again right now, in our renewed togetherness as First Bloodmates.
“You remember when we once got stuck in the undercells below the Grand Palace, looking for that shapeshifter rat thief who was plundering all the kitchens’ horseradish?”
“Fucker was stealing it for over a year.” Bjorn chuckles now, as he smoothes his hand over my back. “That assignment was so below me, as a Lieutenant. You were a hot young Officer in the Kingsguard and the King’s niece, though; I had to get to know you better, so I took that assignment and paired with you. Then your magic fucked us when you caught the trail of that little rat-fucker and dashed off after him in the undercells, tripping one of those ancient booby-traps we’re all warned about when we come on the force. We were stuck down there for threedays until Lieutenant Osli came and got us out. The little rat-fucker got away.”
“We caught him later, though. We redeemed ourselves.” I grin as I pull back so I can see Bjorn’s face now. His eyes are shining as he regards me, as he lifts a hand up to caress back one of my own wayward blonde locks.
“We were the laughingstock of the Guard for an entire year, Rikyava.” Bjorn smiles his Bjorn-smile at me now, his golden eyes on fire with passion and wry humor. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. That was the first time I got to spend any significant time with you. Three whole days… all to myself. You slept in my arms, all three nights. I’ll never forget that.”
“Hey, it was cold down there.” I protest, though we both know why I slept in Bjorn’s arms.
Because even way back then, I couldn’t get enough of him—and still can’t.
Our recollections fill us up like wildfire now, as we both heat. Because though I have so many new, powerful drakes in my bond, Bjorn is still the one I knew first, the one I had first, and the one I chose first.
That knowledge fills us both now, as we finally find some alone time together. It feels like the first time in ages, as we face each other on the chair, me straddling him and him moving now beneath me.
Because I can feel his hardness pressing against me now, ready to share more than just recollections. Though I’m still sore from Mikkel, I don’t mind at all; it’s the first time in weeks Bjorn’s felt hale enough to be intimate, and I revel in it now.
Though we’re both still tired, we got enough energy from Mikkel and me fucking earlier that I feel it fill us—making us both want some, together. Bjorn is magnificent as he grips my hips and we grind together on the chair. His black fighter’s leathers stretch hard over everything the gods gave him; his leather pants paste themselves over his bulging thighs and rock-solid ass, delicious.
He doesn’t take anything off yet, as we revel in being alone. His slowthrusts are strong as he grips my hips and ass with his hands, holding me down atop him, firm.
We ride together in slow, decadent thrusts, though it’s not a suitable position for actual sex. As he holds me close, I feel our dragons entwine; I inhale deep at Bjorn’s lips, smelling battlefield char, peat whiskey, and expensive cigars in his decadent, manly dragon-scent.
As he grips me with his powerful hands, Bjorn claims me as his mate in the crackling silence. Once, he and I were like two wildfires, burning each other up whenever we were together. Now, those fires simmer more beautifully and even hotter somehow, ever since my Bloodwalker magic mated us. My entire body drinks Bjorn in now, as he holds me pressed close to his rock-solid hotness.
Being like this with someone who’s known me for so long, alleviates some vast ache inside me. As Bjorn kisses me now, deep yet soft, his insistent lips lingering, it brightens everything in me like molten gold and brimstone fire.
For a moment, I forget everything; every peril we’re in, every dire situation we face, as my entire soul becomes vivid with Bjorn’s and my light. As we part, breathing hard from our shared passions, everything seems so much easier now that I’m here, wrapped in his solid arms and pressed close to his rock-hard body.
A rock-hard something else digging up eagerly, down below.
“It’s been a long time…” Bjorn says as he keeps me pressed close. As he lifts a hand to my cheek, searching my eyes, I indulge in the hot golden blaze of his drake, making his beautiful irises burn.
“It’s only been maybe two weeks,” I counter, though I move deeper into this grind-dance we’re doing in the chair as he palms my ass, hard.
“That’s too long.” Bjorn’s growl is hot and sexy as he lifts again, kissing me.
“It’s a miracle we’re even here to enjoy this.” I am frank now as I bare my heart, honest. As I reach up, I take his face in my hands, staring him down. “You saved us, Bjorn, when you got us here with that portal a few days ago from Baldur’s magic—I owe you everything for that. We were goners; especially me. Because the Black Dragon called to the worst part of me when we fought it in Copenhagen. And the worst part of me answered, big time.”
“You would have mastered it, your inner darkness,” Bjorn rumbles now as he lifts his lips, running them over mine. “I know you would have, without my intervention.”
