“Aye,” he said, retreating and using the large pitcher on the bedside table to refill it.

I drank the second glass to the dregs too.

The pium was working its magic, though, because the soreness in my calf abated further, and the throb in my shoulder turned to a dull ache. I groaned and tipped my head back, resting it against the canvas. “Why are you being so kind, Rokath?”

He shifted his weight and looked away from me. “No one else can take care of you.” The bond tightened as if it hated the thought of anyone but Rokath touching me.

“Because they can’t, don’t want to, or you won’t allow them to?” I quipped. Between the pium and the water, I felt more normal than I had when I’d awoken before, and that was certainly coming out in my barbed words flung in Rokath’s direction.

He cut his attention back to me, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. He snatched my cup from me and rolled it between his palms. “Do you think you can ride today?”

I rolled my eyes since he, of course, didn’t answer my question. “Oh yes, because what’s most important to you is pressing forward with the army. No consideration for my injuries.”

A warning growl slipped out of him. The bond vibrated with anger. “You still don’t realize what’s at stake.”

“It’s kind of hard to care when my entire life has been one shitty situation after another,” I snapped back. “I haven’t decided if being with you is the worst one yet, but I’m getting close to making a decision.”

Rokath’s grip tightened over the glass. “I already know this is the worst situation I’ve been in, and I’ve been fighting those fucking overzealous Angels for centuries.”

I bared my teeth at him. The bond pulsed as fury pressed from both sides. Yet underneath that, it begged us to touch one another. To let the fire burning between us consume us whole.

“I fucking hate you,” I snarled, the fingers of my left hand curling into the blanket pooled around my waist.

“Not as much as I hate you, little imposter.” Rokath’s eyes darkened, though if it was in fact abhorrence or lust, I wasn’t sure. Knowing him, it was probably both.

My heart hammered against my ribs as we continued our staredown, the bond pressing, prodding, pushing us closer. Rokath trembled, like he was trying to restrain himself from pouncing on me. That only served to flex each of his generous muscles. He was carved by the Fates themselves to be their unholy weapon, and there was no denying the power that emanated from him. A cascade of arousal slicked my thighs as I followed the chiseled lines to his groin.

We hadn’t coupled since the day we departed Uzhhorod. Sure, he’d given me an orgasm after he spanked me, but neither of us had come since. The bond was growing more insistent as we remained suspended in this moment, neither of us surrendering control.

Who would break first?

Glass shattered and I was on my back, Rokath’s strong arms braced on either side of me, trembling as he held himself just enough off me that he didn’t crush my shoulder.

With a moan, our mouths collided with the force of an explosion created by a Destructor, and the world fell away. All my pain, all my confusion, all my fear, melted, just as I did beneath Rokath’s expert hands.

One grasped my breast and squeezed, lifting it before rolling the nipple between his fingers. A pinch a moment later had me crying out against him.

With my free hand, I grasped for purchase on the hard planes of his inked chest, then with a futile groan, I wrapped my legs around his waist and tugged him closer. A hiss slipped out as the movement pressed against my sore calf, but I didn’t care as his tongue swept into my mouth and claimed my own.

Rokath’s hardness dug into me as he rolled his hips, and I couldn’t smother the sound that pulled from me. He did it again, and again, not entering me, when I wanted nothing short of his massive cock stretching me like he had the first time.

I wanted him to replace my pain with pleasure.

The bond thrummed with the intensity of our moment, begging Rokath to claim me, begging me to let him. Rokath reared back, breaking our kiss and stealing a cry from my lips. One large, calloused hand circled my neck, squeezing just enough to cut off my air. Fire danced in his eyes like midnight burgundy pools, and the barest hint of a snarl curled his lip.

“Do not ever run from me again,” he growled, flashing those severely pointed canines to add to the threat.

“Why? Because you love me so much you can’t bear the thought of me leaving you?” I snapped around his hand. He crashed into me again, grinding so furiously he tore another cry from my lips. My hips rose to meet his, and he rubbed just the right spot to send sparks shattering through my veins.

“I hate the terror that gripped me when I realized where you’d gone. I hate that your wit and intelligence distracts me from my duties. I think far too much about sinking my cock into your cunt when I’m supposed to be waging a war. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. I hate that I can’t stay away from you.”

Yet underpinning those words was so much passion that my core wept for him. His tongue swept against mine, and I sucked it between my teeth. A masculine groan vibrated in his chest.

“I hate that,” he said, but the way his dick pulsed told me otherwise.

So I did it again, loving that I found something to drive him wild. It was almost like I’d yanked some of our struggle back to my side. “I hate that you are the reason my family is dead. I hate that you killed Izgath. I hate that my last thought before that cobra struck me was that I didn’t want to die. Because of this fucking army, I feel alive again. Sometimes you make me feel that way too. And I want nothing more than to continue to chase that feeling.”

The confession surprised me. Maybe it was the potion blurring my reality, making me admit what I otherwise wouldn’t.

Rokath broke our kiss, staring down at me with an intensity that made me want to squirm beneath him. “Last night, you were on the brink of death. Let me show you exactly what you would have missed had the Reaper taken you away from me.”

My breath hitched. The tight way my body was coiled told me I’d snap the moment he entered me, succumbing to shockwaves of pleasure.

His hand disappeared from my throat, finding my center and cupping it. I arched into him as he spread me and nudged at my entrance. He curled closer so all I could see was his wicked eyes. “I should punish you, you know. For running. I should flip you over and spank you so hard you can’t ride out later. I should do any number of things to you, Assyria, but right now all I want to do is fuck you into oblivion. So get a grip on something because I am not taking it easy on you.”

He slammed into me so hard stars coated my vision. A scream ripped through me as I bowed into him again, but my body was not airborne for long. With a growl, he pinned me beneath him and set a brutal pace, much like the first time we’d coupled. The ecstasy of him inside me, stretching me, filling me, so hot and thick and throbbing, robbed me of all thought. Pleasure rippled through me, building to such a quick crescendo that I didn’t realize I was coming until my toes curled and my head tipped back, exposing my neck to him.

Rokath seized the opportunity and bit into the base of it, sucking the skin just over my fluttering pulse between his teeth. “Rokath,” I moaned, breath coming in short, choppy waves, much like my orgasm as it subsided.

“We’re not close to done,” he growled, his pace never slowing as he released my neck and leaned back again. Lifting my uninjured leg, he deepened the angle, and I cursed.

“You’re too deep,” I half-moaned.

“You will take it,” Rokath rumbled. “You will do exactly as I say because you did not last night and you almost fucking died.”