The intensity in his gaze made her skin flush warm. “Us,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a prayer.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Your Highness.” But her teasing tone couldn’t hide the truth beneath it—she was already thinking in terms of partnership, of shared dreams and intertwined futures.
He leaned closer, his hand finding hers on the cushion between them. “Tell me what you’re planning.”
“No.” She pulled her hand away with a smile that felt lighter than air. “It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait like everyone else.”
His eyebrows rose in mock outrage. “I am not everyone else. I am your?—“
“My what?” The challenge in her voice was playful, but beneath it lay a deeper question that had been building in her chest for days.
Kovrak’s expression grew serious, his pale eyes searching her face with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Your mate,” he said simply. “If you’ll have me.”
The words settled between them like a bridge waiting to be crossed. Faith felt her heart race as she realized this was the moment—the choice that would reshape everything. Four days ago, she had nearly died beneath falling timber and flame, and in that suspended moment between breath and darkness she had seen with startling clarity what mattered most.
She wanted him. Not just the safety he offered, but the man who had held her hand through pain and held her close through restless nights. The man who was learning to be vulnerable just as she was learning to trust.
“Kovrak,” she began, her voice steady despite the magnitude of what she was about to say.
Faith paused for a moment and drew a slow, steadying breath as his gaze fixed on her with a burning intensity that felt both protective and possessive. This was it. The truth she’d been carrying for three days—through his gentle ministrations, his quiet conversations in the dark, his unwavering presence—now pressed against her ribs, demanding release.
“What is it? Is it your arm? Your ankle?”
“No.” She reached out, her fingers brushing over the back of his hand. “It’s not pain. It’s… a decision.”
He went perfectly still. The silence in the sunlit room felt immense.
“I’m ready,” she said, the words clear and sure. “For your mark. For this life. For you. I’m choosing it. All of it.”
For a heartbeat, he simply stared as if she’d spoken in another language. Shock etched lines beside his eyes before his entire face softened, the controlled mask dissolving into something raw and vulnerable.
“Faith.” Her name was a rough exhale. His hand came up to cradle her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. “This mark… it’s not a contract you can break. It will change you. Bind you to mein ways that are permanent. It will tie your soul to mine. You understand that? Truly?”
She turned her face into his palm, pressing a kiss there. The gesture felt more intimate than anything they’d yet done. “I do. And the only thing more terrifying than that kind of forever is walking away from what this is. From what we are together.”
The smile that broke across his face then was unlike any she’d seen—unfiltered, brilliant, stripping away twenty years of princely restraint. It was the smile of a man who had just been given everything.
Then he was pulling her into his arms, his kiss not claiming but celebrating. It was relief and devotion and a reverence so fierce it stole the air from her lungs. His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head back as he deepened the kiss, and she met him with equal fervor, her own hands gripping the hard planes of his shoulders.
When they broke apart, breathless, their bathrobes were already loose. Kovrak didn’t tear the fabric away; he parted it with a deliberate slowness that made her skin hum, his gaze sweeping over her as if memorizing this moment.
Then he leaned in, his lips finding the sensitive hollow of her throat. “My beautiful mate,” he murmured against her skin, the vibration resonating deep within her.
With effortless strength, he gathered her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he rose from the couch. He was meticulously careful of her healing injuries, his movement all controlled power. He carried her the short distance to the massive bed—theirbed now, the place where they had shared secrets and quiet laughter and the slow, trusting unraveling of their guards over the past three days.
He laid her down upon the silk sheets as if she were spun glass, his body following hers down, covering her withoutweight. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he commanded, his voice a low growl that promised both pleasure and protection.
“You won’t hurt me,” she whispered back, arching into him.
His answer was a trail of open-mouthed kisses that mapped a path from her jaw to her collarbone, then lower. He took one peaked nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and sucking until she gasped, her back bowing off the bed. At the same time, his hand found the heat between her thighs, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with an expertise that made her cry out.
“So responsive and ready,” he praised, his breath hot against her damp skin.
The dual sensations—the sharp pull at her breast and the relentless, circling pressure of his fingers—built a coil of white-hot need deep in her core. Just as the tension threatened to snap, he stilled, pulling back to look down at her, his eyes blazing.
“Take your pleasure from me, Faith,” he murmured. “Take what you need.”
The command, wrapped in an offer of control, undid her completely. With a boldness he alone could summon from her, she pushed at his shoulders. He yielded instantly, rolling onto his back, his gaze locked on hers as she moved over him.