Page 21 of To Sway a Demon Heart

“I think he’s part blood demon,” Tyr announced as if this were obvious. “Draven was the first to throw off my control in the Trial of Blood. It took him minutes. That’s unheard of, Brigid, for anyone other than a blood demon. He was also with the male who died at the feast, and the first to emerge from the shadows yesterday.”

“You think it was blood magic that killed that male?” I asked, thinking through the details.

Tyr shook his head agitatedly. “I don’t think. Iknow,” he replied. “We didn’t ask the shadow demons if they had used blood magic. Only poison. It wouldn’t even have been a lie that Draven would have to spin. And I have seen many deaths caused by blood magic. This was no poison.”

“Why would Draven risk it, knowing that you would recognize it?” I asked, seeing the merit to Tyr’s argument, but not quite feeling that it fit Draven’s character. “He seems more enlightened than the other shadow demons, except maybe Shyama.”

“Maybe he’s an arrogant ass who thinks he can get away with it,” Tyr suggested dismissively, earning a scowl from me. He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss me. “You like the bastard.”

“Not as much as I like you,” I protested, “but yes. He seems genuine.”

“Genuinely interested in getting under your skirts,” Tyr murmured. I threw a piece of toast at him.

“He has good taste,” I pointed out, gesturing to myself somewhat ostentatiously.

Tyr grinned, putting aside the breakfast tray and prowling toward me over the bed. “I cannot fault you there,” he purred, nuzzling into the space between my neck and shoulder and beginning to pull at the ties of the shirt I had thrown on. Need flooded me at the suggestive noises and touches he was making, and it took all of my willpower to finish our conversation.

“What should we do about Draven?” I gasped as Tyr nipped at my earlobe, sliding his tongue up the column of my throat.

“I’ll handle him,” Tyr growled, sliding a warm hand up under the shirt to cup my bare breast.

“But how—”

“Stop talking, Brigid,” he commanded, pinching my nipple gently, but hard enough to send a shock of pleasure through me. He captured my lips, and it became very, very difficult to do anything other than fall under the spell of his body and scent and mouth as he lavished his approval on me, rewarding each little gasp and moan with another lick or pinch or kiss.

“When this is all over,” Tyr purred, pushing me back on the sheets and sliding the shirt up so he could graze his teeth across my stomach, “I would very much like to claim you in the tradition of the Court of Blood.”

“How is that?” I asked, a little breathless as he worked his way down my abdomen, kissing and nipping as he went. We hadn’t discussed making the claiming official, and the Pull would continue to chafe until we did, but every court had different traditions for how it was done.

“Exchanging blood,” Tyr said, looking up from where he hovered, right above the place that my need was growing with each second he lingered. “I want to sink my fangs into your throat and let you feel me inside you, both body and blood.”

“Gods,” I gasped, the thought alone sending shivers of pleasure through me that were surprising, considering the violence of the idea. “Only if I can claim you as well.”

“Naturally,” Tyr grinned, lowering himself so that his torso rested between my legs. I wore nothing below the shirt, and Tyr’s growl of approval, as he pushed my legs apart, told me it had been the right move. “How is claiming done in Sun?”

It was hard to focus on the question as he began to worship me, first kissing and licking his way up one inner thigh, then down the other before settling between them.

“With fire,” I gasped, shuddering as his tongue swept through me in a languid stroke. “With a branding.”

“Hmm,” Tyr rumbled, the sound sending lightning through my core. “I think I like the idea of being branded by you.”

“Stop talking, Tyr,” I commanded, weaving my fingers into his long hair and raising my hips to meet his mouth.

He chuckled, but obeyed, sending pleasure spiraling through me with every lick and touch and taste until I was sure I would burst into flames if he didn’t let me finish.

“Tyr,” I begged, arching toward him, needy for more. To be filled and to feel him inside me.

“Greedy,” Tyr mumbled, teasing my entrance with a finger before sliding two inside me and pumping gently.

I didn’t realize my pleasure could increase beyond where it already was, but Tyr’s fingers took me to a new apex of pleasure, pumping gently as release barreled through me.

He didn’t give me long to whimper with need, sliding into me in a single long stroke that felt like it was always meant to be. “I love you,” Tyr growled, breath hot in my ear as he thrust into me, one hand cupping my backside as the other pinned my wrists to the bed. “For months now, I’ve been so sick in love with you that I thought I would die if I didn’t take you like this.”

“Gods,” I cried, release finding me a second time as he confessed his truth like I was his salvation. I clutched him tightly, crying out as he found his own pleasure, thrusting in to the hilt. “I love you too.”

We lay there for a moment, too spent or full of emotion to speak. Slowly, he pushed himself up to look at me, his green eyes bright with something I hadn’t seen in his face since our first kiss in Mithloria. I thought it might be hope.

“Tonight,” Tyr panted, his gaze going a little feral as he looked down at my heaving breasts, still bare before him. I felt him harden against me and blessed the Goddess for the tender mercy of a virile mate. “I will claim you tonight, if you’ll have me.”