(Note. This may seem a little distorted, because Valka is a little out of it.)
Valka
I’m on heat.
It’s been days--three... maybe four--and ti has stopped aning anything. I wake in Lucien’s bed and I never really leave it. The world outside our room doesn’t exist. I eat when he reminds to. I bathe only because he carries to the water and washes my skin. Clothes feel wrong, too hot, too tight, a nuisance, like a barrier between and the only thing that eases the ache. So, I thrash them.
He never makes put them back on, even if it distracts him. He has to leave in the mornings to take care of things--kingly duties--but when he sees tangled in his sheets naked, my thighs parted and my lip caught between my teeth, he abandons everything.
When he’s gone, hours pass in a haze of hunger. My whole day fractures into two halves. The ti before he returns and the ti after. I can’t do anything. Can’t train. Can’t practice. Can’t function. Until he cos back to .
Every sound beyond the door could be him, and my pulse leaps each ti, greedy and helpless. The sheets sll like him. So does my skin. I should be ashad of how badly I need it, but the fever is far greater than any sha.
Lucien had explained why this was happening. The changes. The bond. It made sense when he left his lips. But he had been naked while he was explaining. And I don’t rember any of the things he said.
All I know is how he makes feel. What his fangs, teeth and hands do to . Most especially, the heavy weight between his legs. Sotis, I thirst for it. Sotis, he lets kiss it, suck it. In those monts, he calls sweetheart. The endearnt is a form of mockery. Because there is nothing sweet about .
But it doesn’t matter. Because when his hips buck and he strains against my throat, fucking it with unforgivable thrusts, I feel like the more powerful being of us two.
He breaks. He always does.
He pulls out of my mouth and pushes inside . And I am whole again. He is strong. Large. Exotic. He never tires, is never spent. Even when I fall asleep, he watches , traces his na into my spine with claw tips, and when it heals, he repeats the action.
Sotis, we fight.
When he asks questions that make my head hurt. He wants to rember, because I’ve begun forgetting more these days. We fight harder on the days I have nose bleeds. Because on those days, I don’t rember Valka. Or Eldric. Or Malachy.
The last na upsets a lot. Because he pushes on that mory more than the most.
"You said you loved him," Lucien says. "Do you rember nothing of what it felt like? You said he made you feel human and less of a monster."
I wrench the sheets off my body. "I don’t want to talk about another man when I’m in bed with you!"
Large hands clasp my cheeks, forcing to look in those eyes that I cannot run or shy away from. "Why ’Valka’? Why that na?"
A horrid sob begins shaking my body. "I don’t know!"
He doesn’t relent this ti. His thumbs press harder against my temples. "What happened when you fell over the cliff, *Lyra*?"
"You know what happened!" I cry. "She took control of my body! People died!"
The pain in my head triples to an excruciating level. He finally relents, kissing the corner of my mouth.
Relief floods , and I am all too happy to discard the useless mory when he lifts into his arms and sits on his groin. My breasts are in his face and his expression shifts from that darkness to lust.
Lust, I can comprehend. Lust, I perfectly understand.
"I don’t want to lose you again," he says. I don’t know what the hell is talking about. I’m right here. I could never leave him. Where would I go? He is ho. He has always been ho.
He claims . Fast. Hard. Hungry.
Then he leaves. He’s angry. Not at . But he’ll co back. He always does. He can’t stay away from for too long. When he does, I’m waiting by the door, or the floor, on my knees, sotis on my knees and hands.
A small part of knows that when this heat subsides, I’ll be mortified. But I don’t care for it. I don’t care for after, later. I only care for here, now.
He presses his back against the door. "You’re driving nuts, Val."
I lick my lips. "Nuts. I want yours."
"Fuck," he groans.
That word, I am completely on board with. "Yes, please."
He is on in a second, his fangs scrapping along my shoulder, piercing skin, marking again and again.
We’ve broken the bed. And the dresser. The tall windows are cracked. The floor seems to be the safest option. I like it on the floor. It makes feel every bit as much of an animal as he does.
I am struck by how perfectly we fit. How perfect he is. How strong he is. More importantly, I am amazed by his obsession with . At how much I excite him, how his strong, powerful body always responds to my touch. Our sex is rough, always desperate, carnal and volatile.
I don’t ever want him to stop being inside . I want him to carve a temple inside and worship there forever.
But he must always speak more of that nonsense when he cos back. Most tis, I shut him up with my mouth. Distract him with my tongue, but on days like today, he keeps distance from , refusing to touch .
"Seriously, Valka," Lucien grumbles. "Try again."
I pout. "I don’t want to." I pat the sheets beside . "Co back to bed."
We’ve been trying for hours to get to whisper. To compel him. It’s a simple command. Kneel. But I’m getting tired of the word ’again’, as I have failed woefully today at getting any of my commands across. Still, how can he be so serious about this when I’m naked and wet in front of him?
"Not until you get it right," he growls, but he’s staring at my ass.
I turn around fully and arch it in the air. "Please?"
He curses. "I can’t tell if I prefer you this way."
But he doesn’t move any closer. "Compel ."
I don’t say a word. He’ll break first. He likes my ass way too much to refuse it.
His jaw tightens and he sighs, like I am insufferable. "It’d make my cock very hard if you forced to my knees, Valka."
My ears perk up at that and a sheepish smile spread on my cheeks as I straighten and settle back on my knees, reaching beneath easily for that kernel of power. "Kneel."
I feel the undercurrent of magic in the air, and just because it is all I can think of, I add, "Shut up and fuck ."
Lucien’s pupils expand, but he shakes off the command with a right and left cut of his head. "No."
I don’t like being told ’no’. It upsets . I pout, but my mouth twists into a knowing smile because I know him. I know what gets him. I lay back on his pillows, hair tumbling about my like an halo. I reach between my legs, spine arching in anticipation, and just as I bury my fingers deep inside , I feel the weight of him settle over , grabbing my wrist and pinning it over my head. "Stop trying to control . I don’t appreciate it."
He’s hard against , hot and ready, the thick head of him pressing right where I ache most. I roll my hips, guiding him to my entrance. "You asked to compel you."
He hisses sharply, hips bucking as I take in an inch of him. "We both know that’s not what I ant."
My nipples tighten as they rub against his chest, but he holds still, pinning a hand to my waist before I can take him any deeper. I growl deep in my chest. "You want it. I want it. What is the problem?"
His eyes fix on my lips and his muscles bunch as he keeps from leaning in. "The problem is, I cannot tell if you’re in there anymore. If it is Valka I’m fucking, or Ilya."
I’m upset again. Why does it matter who it is? I’m a woman. He’s a man. He can give what I want. "It doesn’t matter--"
His hold on my wrist tightens. "What is your na?"
My brow furrows. "Whatever you call ."
He stiffens. "Who am I to you?"
"My Prince," I answer easily.
He releases my wrist and grips the side of my face instead, his thumb brushing my temple as his eyes search mine. "Valka would never call that."
Sothing in his expression fractures. The violet of his eyes bleeds into black, darkness swirling. "I’m sorry," he says, voice cracking as the command rips through the air. "Get the fuck out of her head, Ilya."
The words hit like a physical force, layered, ancient, primal. Sothing thrashes inside , clawing and screaming, and the world goes black.
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