And Klara straightened on his back, looking over the horde that she had just won over. She might always feel the sting of their prior rejection. Sometimes I still remembered it. But she would have to accept it, just as I had.

Never before in our history had a rider tried to claim the same Elthika twice.

But Klara had.

A Vyrin nonetheless.

The noise, the chanting, the cheers were thunderous. Klara sought me out among the crowd, and I stepped forward. Lygath huffed out a sharp breath, and I looked at the Elthika, a torrent of emotions at the sight of him channeling through me. I didn’t know how to feel. But now that he was my wife’s bonded—and Zaridan’s sibling—we would have to learn to get along. It would be hard. Especially since whenever I looked at him…I couldn’t help but remember Haden.

I passed to his side, and his golden eyes kept me pinned. Klara was looking down at me, swinging her leg over, her grip on the tethers loosening. She unclasped them, keeping them in her fist as I held out my arms for her. Lygath still needed to be trained on basic commands. He wouldn’t lower his wing for her yet.

She slid off the side, and I caught her in my arms. My heart still thundering, relief so potent spiraling through me that I went dizzy with it. But I was still trying to get a handle on my fear. My anger.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed into my neck. It was miraculous I heard her over the noise. “I’m sorry.”

I said nothing. Instead, I looked at Zaridan, my displeasure likely rolling off me in waves, and nodded at Lygath. “Thryn’ar.”

The flying command. Zaridan let out a sharp chortle in the back of her throat, which made Lygath’s ear twitch. Then she took off, her brother following shortly after.

Then I left the landing space. The horde was still celebrating, though their exuberance died down as I left with Klara still in my arms, heading toward the forest at the back of the encampment. I needed to be alone with her, but I thought the walls of the tent would feel too suffocating.

Once we were far enough away from the horde, deep in the forest, when we could no longer hear them, I set her down on her feet.

She was biting her lip, looking sheepish and hesitant, when she met my eyes. “Sarkin…”

“I don’t know whether to yell, celebrate, kiss you, punish you, or fuck you,” I growled.

She sucked in a sharp inhale through her nostrils, those dull little teeth still buried into her full bottom pink lip.

“So you tell me, aralye, what you want me to do,” I finished.

“A kiss would be a good start,” she breathed. I saw something black dangling off her wrist. My rider’s cuff. She saw where my gaze had dipped, and her fingers brushed over the metal. “Though I understand if you want to start with the yelling part.”

I strode up to her, sliding my hand into her hair, tight, pulling her head back as she stared up at me in surprise.

My kiss was hard and angry. I poured my fear and frustration into her. My other hand came up to her cheek, and I fucking hated that it trembled as it did. A growl wound its way up my throat.

One thing had become apparent to me this morning—I was no longer an impenetrable force. She was my glaring vulnerability, the soft place that could so easily destroy me.

My aunt had succeeded in one thing.

She’d made me like my father. I knew I would do anything for my wife to protect her…and that made fear rise in me like nothing else had before.

I loved her. I loved my wife.

I broke the kiss with a rough gasp, feeling her pant against me as I leaned my forehead into hers. I glared at her.

“Next?” I asked.

I saw the desire bloom and heat. This moment felt like when I’d trained her at Tharken. That dizzying adrenaline was still pulsing in her blood, making her wild. She was still on a high of claiming Lygath.

I grinned, but it was sharp. “I know exactly what you want.”

Her chin lifted. “Do you?”

She dropped the tether to the forest floor, winding like a twisting serpent. Her hands drifted to the laces of her riding trews.

“You stole from me,” I rasped, watching her as my cock thickened, as blood pulsed and rushed and sharp, punishing desire rose with it. “Snuck away in the night like a common thief.”

She swallowed, but her fingers never stopped gently untying the laces. My cock pulsed with excitement, my abdomen dipping like I was free-falling.

“I may be your husband, Klara Dirak’zar, but I am also your Karath. Your king. Or have you forgotten that?” I asked softly, watching her.

Her tongue darted out. Slowly, she toed off her boots and her riding trews dropped. She stepped out of the material, and then her hands went to the dress she’d worn to our bed the night before, pulling the delicate fabric over her head until she was naked before me.

Naked, save for the riding cuff she’d stolen. It stood out against her skin, and the sight of it only made me more crazed. My gaze snapped to hers. Her hands were shaking when she brought her fingers up to her lips to rub at the reddened flesh. Her nipples were pebbled tight, her shoulders raising and lowering, the curves of her hips and breasts tantalizing.

“And what would my king ask of me?”

I nearly groaned at the sultry words. My anger was steadily being replaced by lust, but I would play. I would play with her. I would play along. Because she’d still have to deal with my ire when we were done, but at least we could work out some frustration with each other beforehand.

“Get on your knees,” I ordered her.

I heard her thick swallow, but she did as I asked, lowering herself to the soft forest floor. We’d never done this act before, but I had fantasized about it, imagining how her mouth would feel on me, the heated lash of her tongue.

She thought to distract me? To fuck away my ire?

It mightwork, I admitted as I stepped forward, tugging firmly at the waist of my trews. Klara pushed them down when I reached her, my cock springing forward.

I hissed when she wrapped her hand around me, bucking into her grip.

I saw her hesitation. She’d never done this before, but her enthusiasm and curiosity was evident. Her eyes flickered to the line of the forest, but then I saw the heated burn in her eyes. She liked this. The idea of getting caught aroused her, and my cock jumped with the realization, drawing her gaze.

She didn’t wait for me to give her another order, however.

She licked, almost demurely, at the tip of my cock, which made me surge in her tight fist. I blew out a shuddering breath, thinking of the hell she’d just put me through…and the sweet, sweet hell she would put me through in the next few moments.

“Suck me, wife,” I growled, my patience snapping, especially when she teased her thumb over what I knew she called my dakke, the sensitive bump above the root of my shaft. She pressed into it, and a rough groan spilled from me. My hand went to fist in her hair. “Enough teasing. I’m tempted to come on your tongue, to find my relief and not allow you yours. Maybe that will be how I punish you.”

Her head lowered, and the heat of her mouth made my eyes nearly roll to the back of my head. My eyelids closed, neck craning.

“Oh, fuck, aralye,” I breathed. I licked my bottom lip, and then I sucked in a sharp breath when I felt her cheeks hollow around me, the pulling sensation nearly making my knees tremble. Her mouth was stuffed full of me—so much so that I felt the searing brand of her tongue on the underside of my cock with nowhere to go. It moved and quivered under my length, and I gasped, my hand tightening in her hair as I shuffled closer.

I cursed again when she retreated, dragging her lips over the sensitive tip, the hot lap of her tongue finding the trickle of pre-come at the seam.