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“His lips were sweet. Like rich honeyed-wine. Like the tang of wild berries. Like nothing I'd ever tasted before. His mouth was gentle but persistent, coaxing my lips apart as his tongue swept inside me, tasting, exploring. I moaned against his lips. My body was on fire. I gripped his shoulders as we kissed and felt his hands move to my hips, encircling my waist and pulling me closer against him until there was no space between us left. The heat of his body against mine was a tantalizing lure. The kiss promised endless possibilities that made me dizzy to envision. I wanted to fall to the forest floor and pull him down with me.”

“You used to scare me, Draven,” I whispered, skimming my fingers over the back of his neck. He was quiet for a moment. “I know. But I was never your prison. Never your captor. All I've ever wanted was to be your protector. Your sanctuary.” My heart flipped over in my chest. Draven reached out a hand and caressed my hair. “I saw you, and I wanted to consume you. Like a fire that would only burn for me.”

“It was Draven. He’d come up behind me. I jumped for a second time that morning, unable to help myself, then glared up at him. “How did you even do that?” “I have the ears of an exmoor and the tread of a fenrir,” he said with a smirk. “I’d say comparing yourself to wild animals was fitting, except the exmoor seems highly intelligent,” I muttered.”

“I let my eyelids fall closed. In my mind, Draven’s voice rang out over and over, shouting my name. His voice was more powerful than the sea. More primordial than the stars. My name was on his lips as he promised unspeakable darkness to any who came between us.”

“The flames flickered, casting dancing shadows along the wall, as the lute player jumped lightly down to the floor. He was an otherworldly vision. His hair a wild tangle of amber curls, his eyes a rich, liquid gold that sparkled like a fine ale. He was dressed for battle, clad in a coat of mail, silver links glistening overtop a thick, forest-green tunic. A quiver of red-tipped arrows hung at his back and he held a bow loosely in one hand. Rows of small knives were strapped across his chest. His sleeves had been rolled up to reveal strong forearms and sun-kissed skin. Snug trousers made of a sturdy green fabric emphasized the length of his lean legs, and were tucked into tall, black leather boots that came up to his knees. As he crossed the room towards us he moved with a lithe, feline grace I had only seen before in one other man.”

“You think I’m like him?” he growled. “You think I want this? You think I want to be tied to some mortal? To a blightborn who despises me?” I glared at him, my chest tightening. “But you’re right about one thing, Pendragon. Why should I fight so hard to leash the monster inside when you’re so determined to bring him out?”

“Then, let me tell you," I snarled. "Let me tell you that I love you more than anything in this world or any other. I love you more than the sum of your sins. My heart chose you a long time ago. Maybe before I even got here." The lump in my throat forced me to pause. "You make me fell like I'm falling, like I'm tearing apart at the seams. But free? I will never be free of you. I can't be. I choose to be chained to you. I choose to be claimed. I would never choose to be free. Because this feeling is everything. You aren't just in my heart-you are my heart. You are written in my blood.”

“You were just elevated beyond the mundane.” I snorted with laughter. “Is that what you’d call it?” His eyes narrowed. “Do you have any idea how many blightborn women would literally kill to be in your place right now? I found you on a pile of corpses.” He sniffed the air with his hawkish nose, and his aristocratic features twisted in disgust. “You still reek of them.” I crossed my arms self-consciously. He was right. That didn’t mean he wasn’t also a bastard for saying so. “I haven’t exactly had a chance to take a bath. Someone was dragging me around in chains, as you’ll recall,” I pointed out. “Well, you’ll have all of the perfumed baths you want now. But there’s far more to the bargain.” “More than being chained to you for the rest of our lives? That is what those words meant, right?” I hesitated, then added, “And I’m not the only one, am I?” “Oh, you noticed Regan, did you? She looked delighted, didn’t she?” He shrugged. “Don’t worry about her. I’ll see to it that she falls in line.” “I won’t worry,” I said. “Because I don’t share. And I’m not your mate, no matter what your uncle or anyone else announced.” “Keep telling yourself that. But you felt the binding. You had no choice. Neither did I. Do you really think I’d have chosen this?” He looked me up and down, then shook his head. “You’re beneath me in every possible way. Whoever you are, whatever you are.” I snarled, surprising myself. “Good to hear. Because you won’t be touching me at any point. Let’s get that straight. You certainly won’t be breeding with me.” “I have no plans to touch you if you were the last woman in the Thralldom,” he snapped back, looking just as furious. “But if I did…” “Yes, yes, I should feel ever so honored, ever so grateful. Is that what you like to tell yourself as a woman lies beneath you? You think to yourself how honored she must feel? Gods, you’re a piece of work.” I shook my head. “I almost feel sorry for Regan.” He narrowed his eyes. “Regan is thrilled to be my future consort. She doesn’t need your pity.” “Right. I’m sure. So, what now?” I changed the subject abruptly. “Where are we?” “Ah, yes, your second question. If you’re finished trying to convince yourself you aren’t bound to me…” “I’m not, never will be.” “Whatever. This–” He gestured around us. “Is Bloodwing Academy.” I wrinkled my nose. “What?” “An academy. A school. They do have those where you come from, don’t they?” I glared at him. “I believe I’ve heard the words once or twice.” “Good. I daresay it’s too much to hope you can read and write, too, and aren’t secretly some swine herder’s daughter.”

“We ride hard each day,” Draven barked. “We don’t dawdle or take breaks. We don’t stop to sightsee.” “I’d never dream of asking you to sightsee,” Vesper said with an impressively straight face. “A man like you? Never.” “Fine,” Drave said darkly. “Since you won’t leave when asked and as my only other option is to kill you, which I know she won’t like…” “Your sister?” “My companion,” Draven growled. “Since my companion would evidently prefer I didn’t kill you.” “That would be very nice,” I said, as calmly as I could, my heart beating fast. “Especially when he’s so talented with breakfast.” Were they really going to come to blows? I imagined exaggerating the story when I retold it to Galahad and saying two half-naked griddle-cake-scented, dazzlingly handsome men had been fighting over me.”