The Scent of Home
Dawn over the coastal cliffs broke in shards of soft amber and slate gray, illuminating the private rooms of the High King and his new Queen. A cool coastal breeze drifted through the open window.
Romy woke slowly, breathing in the salty air that drew her instantly to that tiny cottage of her childhood. She savored the scent, but rather than the lavender that had bloomed beneath her mother’s window, she took in the rich aroma of the blooming night lilies she had cultivated only days before.
She lay perfectly still, her bright hair spilling across the smooth sheets as she took in her surroundings. Through the broad expanse of sea-glass that lined their chamber, the morning light was stained into shadows of seafoam green and the palest coral. She smiled into the quiet room that her husband had created for her with only will and lightning.
As she shifted her arms to stretch, a familiar warmth anchored her even more firmly to the bed.
Alaric’s muscular forearm was wrapped around her waist. He held her so tightly against him that the pressure was almost stifling. Even entrenched in sleep, his midnight wings were half unfurled. The dense plumage arched over her body, tucking her away from the outside world.
Romy smiled, turning within his embrace to nuzzle into the hard center of his chest. Her lips brushed tenderly over the glowing plasma line scored across his sternum.
The skin beneath her mouth was hot. Far below the surface, the scars hummed with a restless internal heat. The scars had been made before she knew him.. To Alaric, they had always been terrible remnants of a battle won to protect the week, but at the cost of his only love. They had been jagged patches of skin, marks of old wounds that had never fully healed.
They were not completely healed now. But after what he had done for her on the cliffs, after all he had risked, now they glowed.
Romy ran her fingers over the smooth slope of muscle, tracing a second plasma crack just beneath his collarbone. Other people saw only the weapon in Alaric, his scars one more mark of a power that had only continued to grow over the centuries. Romy felt the heat beneath her fingertip as the scar pulsed and remembered how the light had emerged on the cliffs, when he’d put himself between her and a threatening Titan.
A flicker of heat and a flash of amusement warmed her chest—though she recognized it was not entirely her own. She looked up to see Alaric’s gray eyes already on her.
He arched a single black brow.
“You’re watching me,” she accused. Though mildly embarrassed to have been caught, her mouth still curved in a mischievous line.
With a smirk, Alaric rolled over her, bracing his weight on his arms and settling his hips between her legs with slow, possessive certainty. Romy wrapped her thighs around his waist, melting under his weight. A soft moan escaped her as she pressed her legs together, pulling him closer to nestle his heat snugly against her core.
He answered with a low rumble, his wings sweeping forward to wrap them both within his shelter.
“You’re touching me,” he quipped, leaning down to nip at her lower lip. She narrowed her eyes, the corner of her mouth tilting upward.
“But you’re always watching me,” she said and settled her hands on his shoulders.
“Always,” he agreed, his voice a rough thrum that made her shiver. He lifted his head, his eyes darkening with intensity. “I love the view.”
And then he grinned.
Shifting, he grazed his fingers lightly over her ribs. His calloused palm moved upward to cup her breast. His thumb deliberately teased the sensitive peak.
“And the feel,” he growled.
He dipped his head, his sharp jaw brushing her collarbone before enclosing her pebbled nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. His tongue glided over her, tearing a gasp from Romy’s throat as her back arched off the cloud mattress.
“The taste.”
The intimate friction of his hardened muscles against her naked skin combined with the wet softness ravishing her nipple sent a staggering flood of emotions along their fated bond. He nipped her gently as he shifted, moving to trail hot kisses down the length of her stomach.
He nudged her knee and her legs fell open to him. The pull between them was an addiction she had no power or desire to fight. She moaned as she felt the warm rush of his breath against her inner thigh.
“I love you, Romy.”
She opened her mouth to reply—to tell him she loved him, to say her soul had finally found its home. Instead, she let out a desperate cry as she arched against the bed. There could be no room for words now as Alaric’s mouth moved to her center, pressing, grazing, devouring.
Digging her fingers into his hair, she let him drag her headfirst into a blinding storm.
Neither noticed when the wind stilled and the birds ceased their chatter. For a briefest moment, an observer lingered, hidden within the tiny holes in the fabric of existence.
