Chapter 54

54

ONE YEAR LATER

T hessa beat the metal thin enough before shaping it. With so much to rebuild, she’d found her real purpose in Andera, but today was for a special project.

She paused, admiring the freshly planted lavender on her windowsill, thinking about how much Professor Shovak would love it here—her very own workshop tucked into the forest of Wilcrest.

Back to work, she hammered the metal along the edge of her anvil, curving it, until the two delicate ends met.

Next, she sifted through her unorganized bucket of tools for some sandpaper. “There you are,” she purred, before plucking it out. Humming to herself, she smoothed out the ring—which was less time consuming than a dagger.

“Knock, knock,” Soren blurted before barging through the door.

She spun around, wide-eyed. “Usually one knocks with their fist, not their mouth,” she reminded him. A casual sweep of her hands behind her back, and she slipped the ring onto her thumb.

He sauntered toward her with a wicked smile. “Are apologies in order?

She lifted her chin in innocence. “I would think that’s only appropriate.”

Hoisting her atop the workbench, he nudged himself between her legs. “How would you like me to express my regret?”

She tugged at the fabric along his waistline before meeting his eyes with fervent intensity. “Undressing will do.”

Soren obliged, and just the sight of him nude had her lips parting.

“Only you would forge in a dress,” he noted.

She smiled, lifting her arms up. After he helped pull it off, he unlaced her boots and yanked those off too.

Settling his body against hers, he turned her soot-stained cheek and whispered something naughty in her ear. Her body buzzed for him, especially as he dragged his sharp teeth down her neck and pulled her undergarment to the side.

That day he’d shifted from serpent to Soren, he’d practically taken her in front of their friends. Later that night, there’d been nothing to stop him. Without the need to hide their magic or love any longer, he’d laid down all his walls and gave her everything.

Soren pressed the tip of his length against her center before asking, “Is this what you want?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

It was all he needed to ease himself inside her. When he filled her, she tipped her head back and sighed. But Soren backed all the way out, pausing.

Thessa frowned, begging for more of him. “ Please .” She’d never tire of the beautiful male who held her heart on a string.

After watching her come entirely undone, Soren gripped her hips and thrust so deep she screamed.

The predator didn’t yield, he unleashed.

His force had her wrapping her legs around him and clawing the workbench. The table shook so violently, her bucket of tools rattled off the edge. She ignored the crashing and clanking of metals, and watched him instead.

Soren’s concentration was … commendable.

The moment she cried his name, his mouth latched onto her breast, sucking her flesh like he was going to swallow it whole. When he stretched a thumb to the most sensitive skin between her thighs and swirled, her body spasmed.

Warmth flooded through her aching core as her breath escaped in bursts. A few more of his wicked thrusts were all she needed—and without having to listen to her thoughts, he gave them to her.

As Thessa shattered, he took her deeper. He laid her flat on her back, drove her knees into her chest, and pounded through her orgasm.

“I love you,” she whimpered.

Light was how she felt—there was no darkness, no panic, no fear, no loathing—nothing at all to weigh her down.

His hips crashed into hers as his own wave of pleasure crested. The feel of his length pulsing inside her had release consuming her all over again.

Soren kept thrusting, as if for good measure, while he whispered, “I love you, too.” His words were a hymn, ones he’d sung to her every day.

“Enough to marry me?” she managed to ask between shallow breaths .

He froze and stared at her—then through her—causing her blood to crackle like wildfire.

“A measly soldier, marry a Supreme?” He eyed where their bodies met and grinned. “I was beginning to think you preferred me as your concubine.”

She smacked his chest. “Yes, I’m asking you, a measly soldier, to marry me.”

She’d not stepped into her title lightly. She was not only the symbol of change, but the enforcer. Soren and the rest of the rebellion had paved the way for this opportunity, and she’d not let it go to waste.

Holding up her thumb—the one wearing the ring she’d spent the better part of two days making—she awaited his reply.

He laughed. “I knew you were up to something in here.”

Leora and Emiel’s engagement had got her thinking—too much, evidently. Tilting her head to the side, she said, “This is when you do anything other than laugh at me.”

“This is the easiest decision I’ve ever had the privilege of making. Of course I’ll marry you,” he vowed, stealing the ring and sliding it on his finger.

Sunlight sliced across the steel as he held up his hand, admiring it.

She squinted. “It’s a little dusty, from the sanding.”

He leaned down to press his lips atop hers before saying, “It’s very well crafted.”

Thessa smiled. Not so much about the compliment, rather, that his complimenting skills had improved over the year.

“Speaking of well crafted.” She eyed him still fixed inside her. “I’d not planned to ask you like this .”

“Well this is very much your fault. ”

She flicked her gaze up. “My fault? Why’d you come in here, anyway?”

“To see if you needed anything.” He smirked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “It seems like you did.”

Thessa hooked her legs around him and smiled. “Carry me home.”

In answer, Soren scooped her off the table, and into eternity they went.

Fin.