Page 33 of Bonded

“I haven’t done anything more than what we’ve shared before,” I whisper.

“There’s something I want to do to you. Let me taste you.” He kisses my jaw. “When I first take you, you’ll be wearing mate marks, Meredith. If we are lucky, fated mate marks will burn over my skin and then yours,” he whispers against my skin. “But first, let me bow for my queen. You’ll always be my queen, Meredith. My love.”

He goes to his knees for me. My breath hitches as he pushes up my skirt. If he sees the burns on my legs, he doesn’t seem to notice—and I could cry. He isn’t disgusted by them. Illyia was right. Zyran pushes my dress to my waist, revealing my core, and stares up at me with unbridled lust in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” I know he needs to hear it, and it’s about far more than this. It’s about the messed-up past and the future for us. It all balances on trust. He runs his hands up my thighs slowly. I give him a shaky nod.

“Then hold onto the railing.”

I do as he asks, my fingers clutching the metal railing as I look out over the city. The night air is cool against my skin, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him. He buries his face between my legs, and my head falls back, my hair blowing in the breeze. His hot tongue runs all the way up my slit and around the small nub at the top. A cry echoes out of my throat as pure pleasure bolts down my spine, flooding across my body. “Goddess!”

“It’s just you and me,” he murmurs against my hot flesh. “You will scream my name, love.”

He takes his time, unhurried and devastating, as though he has all night to take me apart piece by piece. His fingers work in and out of my body, and his tongue controls me. I moan, my hips arching into him, and I know it won’t be long now until I lose myself to him. His hand runs up, cupping my breast, his fingers running over my hard nipple. I gasp his name like a prayer, my knuckles white against the railing, the city sprawling endlessly below us—indifferent and oblivious to what he is doing to me. The amazing pressure builds and builds in my body, until it crashes into the most intense release I’ve ever felt. My whole body shudders, my legs threatening to give way beneath me. I cry out Zyran’s name to the stars and the wind, and he growls, his hands digging into my thighs. “Fuck, you taste like everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

He rises slowly, his hands grazing up my spine as he stands and wraps an arm around me to keep me upright. I am trembling. The city hums far below, and for a long moment, neither of us speaks—there are no words left, only the wind and the warmth of him pressed against my back.

As I come down from it, he kisses my neck once, looking at me like there is no one else in the world. I can’t manage a word. He lifts me up, cradling me in his arms, just holding me to him as I sink my head into his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers quietly into my ear. “You’re the first person that’s ever known the truth and not hated me for it.”

My monster, who is not a monster at all.

Chapter Nineteen

ILLYRIA

One thing I’ve learned about giant palaces — being that I’ve only ever been to two of them — is that they’re always so silent. It’s not a home, not really. A home, at least for me, is full of clattering plates as my mother cooks, the sound of my father fixing a broken pipe and the laughter of kids running around outside in the sun. It’s the smell of lasagne, the warmth of every room that made me feel like I was home.

The palaces? They are too big, strange and empty to ever feel like that to me. Yet, I’m staying here for at least a while and I want to try and make it a home. I keep wandering the corridors, looking for people, because there must be maids or people working around here all the time, given how clean it is. Spotlessly clean, almost. There are no cobwebs or dust lining the walls or floors, yet I never see anyone except the random, elderly woman who delivers food to me three times a day. She doesn’t speak and the two times I’ve tried to follow her out in the corridor, she vanishes into thin air.

I need to find Merry, and have some human — or not so human it turns out — contact. I wander around the main floor of the palace, trying to remember which way leads to Meredith’s room for longer than it seems possible. I’ve learnt that three floors hold the guest rooms, judging by the fact Merry and I have our own rooms here, so does Zyran. Her brother, the king, must have rooms somewhere else.

I sigh as I come to another dead end and swiftly turn around, heading down a new corridor. At least when I was in the fire court, the small area I was allowed to move around looked different. The paintings were easy markers of where things were, and there were mostly silent guards to ask for directions. But this place has barely any paintings on the walls, and they all look similar. It’s dark and gloomy, very uninviting, but my mother brought me up to make the most of any situation. She would tell me to enjoy the four poster bed I have, the food that is foreign but tastes amazing and the safety I’ve been given here. It’s likely the safest I’ve ever been in my life.

The human district was not safe, and more than once, I barely managed to escape a drunken man at the pub we worked at. Bane chased them away for a time...but then he left me. Nope, I refuse to think of him and his pretty face, big muscles and growly ways. Every girl is warned not to get involved with the shifters...and I did anyway. It was risky and messy, and if it went wrong I could have ended up with a rune on my forehead and a slave to him for the rest of my life. Yet, he was different. He respected humans and liked them... and I fell for him. Hard. Even as messy and crazy as it was. He left, Illy, and he didn’t come back. He got what he wanted, like most men do, and disappeared. I should be thankful I’m not pregnant. Thank the goddesses.

I keep going, heading around corners, until I finally see the door I know is Meredith’s. I found it! I grin, rushing over, lifting my hand to knock just when I hear a woman’s moan, followed by groans and other noises. Go Merry! I fist bump the air and look up, hoping that Tannith is watching us right now.

I promised Tannith once that I’d never stop trying to be Merry’s friend, even if she never let me in or pushed me away. I made a silent promise to the ghost of Tannith to do my best to be Merry’s friend when I saw her in their old apartment, a broken look in her eyes. Tannith’s death broke a part of Meredith and I know I will never be the friend she was, but I can damn well try to be something close.

“Are you going in?” I nearly jump out of my skin, turning to find King Dain standing a few feet away from me. His thick arms are crossed, his gold hair looks like it lights itself, and he is crazy handsome. I always knew Meredith was pretty, but I never thought about what a male version of her would look like. Dain is hard to look at without blushing. I never liked blond guys. But gold hair guys, apparently, I definitely have a thing for.

He’s just so big. Thick muscles, a small trim waist, and in general, very good looking in his posh and tight clothes. A chiselled jawline. Gold eyes darker than Meredith’s but hauntingly watching me. Dain quirks an eyebrow, leaning his shoulder against the wall in a very un-king-like manner. I look between the door and Meredith’s brother, who definitely does not want to hear what I just heard. Can I drag him away? Doubtful. I’m glad it’s Meredith though. She needs something. Even if it’s a giant man with bat wings. Whatever works for her.

“I don’t think you should go in there.” I clear my throat. “I’m definitely not... and I will stand in front of the door in a bad attempt to stop you going in. For Merry’s sake and yours.”

“Why?” His lips twitch in amusement as he straightens. He towers over me and I’m quite tall myself. In a heartbeat, he closes the space between us and his scent floods me. Musky, peppermint and some kind of spice. He smells really, really good. Dammit. I’m distracted by this man’s scent and I have to make sure he doesn’t go in her room. I put my hand out between us, my fingertips grazing his chest, warmth exploding across the tips. “No, no... she is having fun.”

His face pales slightly and he takes a step back. “Right. With the gargoyle.” I can hear the disapproval in his voice and I don’t get his problem with Zyran. Zyran has kept Merry alive and safe, and clearly loves her. Any fool can see that. I tuck some of my red locks behind my ear.

“Maybe we shouldn’t stand outside the door. It’s a little weird.”

“Yes.” He takes several large steps back and out of the way. “Why the fuck are we still standing outside here?” I hurry to his side and I stay silent until we reach the end of the corridor.

“Should I bow to you? I mean, you are king. Do I call you your majesty or something like that? I’ve never really been around royals before...and I’m fucking up. Whoops, sorry. Now I’m swearing in front of a king and⁠—“

His hand falls on my arm, a soft touch and I shiver. “You don’t need to bow to me. I fucking hate when people bow to me.” His eyes flicker across my face, then my hair, for a moment. “It’s Illyia...”