Ch. 4: The Claiming

AMBERLY

I find myself deathly nervous for Lorcan’s fight.

We’re in a part of the palace I don’t recognize. It’s a large, circular room with high vaulted ceilings and tinted windows that allow for little light. Along the walls are rows of stone seats, all stationed at ground level and going only several meters up at most. I find myself sitting on a low seat beside Fennic, the rest of my court stationed in the rows behind me.

Sitting upon the seats on the other side of the room is the Solstice Court. There is a silent stare-off going on between my court and theirs, and their glares do not put me at any more ease.

I watch the two double doors at either end of the room anxiously. Lorcan will emerge from one of them soon, and so will the king—I just don’t know who will come from which.

In all truth, I don’t know how this is going to play out. Lorcan hadn’t told me much about the processions of the fight when I woke up in his arms this morning. He’d only told me that he intended to uphold his promise—that he’d fuck me like a queen after everything was said and done.

I swallow the solid lump in my throat. I can only hope that he’ll be alive to fulfill it.

Suddenly, both sets of doors burst open, and my eyes swivel to the one from which Lorcan emerges. He’s shirtless with black combat pants, and the king looks to be donned in similar clothing. Both their bat-like wings are out and on full display, and the moment both of them enter a roar erupts from both crowds. Cheers and screams that only rattle my bones.

“Fennic…” I whisper to the male at my right, my fear evident in my voice. He shakes his head.

“He’ll be okay, Amberly. I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.”

At that, I look back at Lorcan, startled to find him staring at me. Although he looks composed, his eyes blaze with some untold emotion—like a mixture of anger and passion. I know I’ve seen that look on him before but I can’t remember when.

I give him a grim look in return, and he nods before focusing his attention on the king.

I look at the Soren Solstice, at the starlight crown gleaming upon his head. Will Lorcan really be able to take it from him?

Someone walks out from the ranks of the Solstice Court. I quickly recognize him as the king’s seneschal, Deryth Greybell. Both Nightweavers stop walking and fix their gazes on him, and the rest of the room follows suit.

“Today, we witness a monumental moment of history. Lord Lorcan Equinox has challenged the current Fae monarch, King Soren Solstice, in a fight for the crown, and only one shall emerge victorious. May the gods lend them strength.”

At that, the seneschal backs away towards the safety of the Royal Court, and both males fixate on each other. My body goes rigid with anticipation.

“FIGHT!”

The moment the word leaves the seneschal’s lips, tendrils of shadow lash out from each of the Nightweavers, colliding mid-air and tangling like two snakes. With visible effort, Lorcan wrenches his arm to the right, sending the king skittering across the floor and breaking the shadowy tether into a mist.

A roar of encouragement rises from my court and I find myself joining them, but the battle is far from won. Growling, the king stands and beats his wings, taking to the air and sending the Equinox Lord a challenging stare.

Lorcan bares his teeth. Something seems different about him. It’s as though he’s consumed by some violent energy, one that’s driving him to kill. I can see it in the way he stares, as though already imagining the king’s death, and in the way his body seems a little larger than normal.

Heat, I realize with a jolt. He’s in Heat.

Of course. That’s why he denied himself release last night. Now he’s bursting with pent-up frustration, and all of it is being directed at the king.

My heart pounds with renewed hope. Maybe Lorcan does have a fair shot at winning this. Maybe, I underestimated him after all.

Within seconds, Lorcan’s wings are spread wide and he’s taking to the air, and the battle switches gears. We all watch, entranced, as volleys of shadow are slung back and forth between the two, some even landing dangerously close to the spectators while others hit their marks. The whole time, however, my gaze is fixed on Lorcan.

He holds his own well. There’s even a moment where he manages to clip the king’s shoulder with his shadow, almost sending him out of the air entirely.

However, as the battle wages and more hits land true on both sides, it becomes evident that Lorcan is tiring out. Bruises are blooming along his flesh, and his body looks to be straining with effort. His dodges grow sloppy, and all it takes is one left-field shadow bomb to slam him square in the chest for him to be sent crashing into the ground.

A scream climbs to my throat, and terrified yells rise from behind me. Lorcan jumps to his feet without fault, standing tall and strong despite the blow, but my heart sinks at the wing hanging uselessly against his side. It’s broken, and his wince tells me it’s causing him a lot of pain.

Lorcan snarls at the king. Then, his body convulses, and he transforms into something grotesque. Shiny scales replace dark skin, and before long that great reptilian beast is standing in the center of the arena, letting loose a loud roar that rattles the entire room.

The king grins sadistically before tumbling out of the air and transforming himself. Dark fur replaces pale skin until all that remains of him is a gargantuan, nightmarish wolf that looks like it could be Cerberus’ distant cousin. If, of course, Cerberus had wings.

With a snarling growl, the canine charges, and the reptile hurtles to meet him.

“KILL THE BASTARD!” Fennic roars, and cries for blood ring around the room as the two beasts collide, jaws snapping and shadows writhing as they fight to gain the upper hand. All it will take is one wrong move or moment’s hesitation for one to be caught in the jaws of the other, and it will be goodnight sunshine from there.

I watch with a pounding heart, praying that Lorcan will not be the one to make the first blunder, that his agile reptilian joints and larger size will give him an edge.

In a moment of pure calculation, Lorcan’s bony tail swings out, cracking against the ribs of the king. The canine scampers back with a whine, momentarily blinded by the pain of the assault, but that blunder costs him everything.

The dragon lunges. The furred beast hardly has time to react before the reptile’s jaws are locked around his lupine head, dagger-like teeth digging into flesh. He bites down.

A horrid scream rips from the canine, harmonizing with anguished yells of the Solstice Court as Lorcan begins thrashing his head from left to right, the king’s body swinging like a ragdoll in his maw.

A spray of blood obscures my vision, and when the screaming stops and the veil of blood finally settles, I can see the king again.

Dead. Hanging from the jaws of my mate.

The canine’s body tumbles to the ground in a solid thump. The reptile shudders before transforming back into the Equinox Lord, his muscles bulging and dark skin gleaming with blood.

He sways. For a moment, I think he is going to faint, but he doesn’t. Instead, he firms his stance and marches for the discarded crown that lies in a pool of Soren Solstice’s blood, just several yards away.

The whole world is silent as he picks it up and secures it upon his head, and suddenly he is no longer just Lorcan, or even the Equinox Fae Lord.

No, he is the Fae King.

There’s a deafening roar. All around me, people of the Equinox Court jump up from their seats and begin hollering like animals, screaming their praise and adoration for their new king. Lorcan turns to look at them, and when his eyes find mine, burning with the heat of battle, I feel it.

The shifting within my chest. The aligning of our magics as a tether forms between us. Then, almost fatalistically, the sound of the resounding snap! as the bond sets itself back into place.

I gape at him. He grins, and maybe it’s the bruising on his face, or the fact that the late king’s blood still mars his features, but a desire so primal burns between my thighs that I’m instantly standing from my seat.

I need him. I need him now.

The roar of the crowd becomes a loud scream as Lorcan marches towards me, and then a deafening shriek as he lifts me into his arms and presses a heated kiss to my forehead.

I loop my arms around his neck and stare into his eyes, at the heady passion that burns there, and my spine tingles.

All I can smell is cinnamon.

“Come,” he growls into my ear, his voice so thick with wanting that it makes my core throb. “I have a promise to fulfill.”

I tighten my arms around him. As he walks us out of the room with me dangling in his arms, chants rise behind us, sealing his victory into stone.

“King Lorcan! King Lorcan! King Lorcan!”

---

When we make it to our bed-chambers, we don’t wait. The moment we’re inside we hurtle for the shower, my clothes torn off before I’m even in the ensuite. The water’s steaming within seconds, and we barely manage to get under the cascade before our lips are locked together and our hands are gripping each other’s skin in earnest.

My fingers go everywhere—his biceps, over his back muscles, through the matted locks of his hair. His fingers eagerly explore my body as well, rushing up and down my curves before squeezing the swell of my breasts.

I know I should be waiting for the blood to wash off his body—especially seeing as that’s the reason we silently agreed to go to the shower first—but as the heat of him invades me, I find I cannot keep my hands off him.

He killed a king in my honor and saved me from centuries of imprisonment. He shed that blood for me.

So, to me, the blood is more of a testament to his devotion than anything.

Lorcan angles his head and sucks viciously on the soft flesh of my neck. I gasp. The crown clatters to the ground. He lifts my leg and pushes his body against mine, his erection throbbing so furiously against my folds that it’s hard to think. My thoughts continue to elude me as he vents his mouth up the column of my neck, scraping his two front canines over my skin in a teasing gesture—a promise to the Claiming that is bound to happen.

“Lorcan…” I whisper. A plea, a question. A declaration that I need him—right now.

He kisses me fiercely on the lips. “Go to the bed, lionheart. I’ll join you soon.”

His voice is thick with need. I nod and rush out of the shower, toweling myself down as quickly as I can before flinging myself on the bed. I take a moment to dip my fingers between my folds, only to come away warm and glistening—soaked with my need for him.

I’m laying there for no more than thirty seconds before Lorcan charges out of the ensuite, his body bare of blood and his massive erection full and ready for me.

He’s on the bed within seconds, crawling on top of me and positioning himself at my entrance. He glides his length along my folds, teasing me, tempting me. I groan with need.

“You’re going to have to tell me now, Amberly,” he growls into my ear, his voice sending a dark thrill up my spine. “Do you want me to pull out, or do you want me to finish in you? Because I’m not going to be able to make the decision later.”

I give him a jerky nod. “Finish in me,” I say, knowing it is a slight risk, but finding the thrill of it attractive. Besides, I think he deserves it as a little reward, and a large part of me feels I deserve it, too.

For no reason in particular. Just that I love the idea of him filling me with his seed.

Lorcan needs no more encouragement. With one powerful thrust of his hips, he claims me, my body responding keenly to his authority by arching up into him. His length rides up until it hits the back of my cervix, sending hot prickling waves down my body, and without restraint, he begins to pound in relentlessly.

My moans come thick and strangled. He feels so damn good inside of me. So damn fucking good.

He grabs my waist. Without breaking our connection he masterfully flips me over so that I am on my elbows and knees, ass high in the air. He seizes my rear and rams into my cunt with the force of a thunderstorm, again and again, and again, pulling screams of utter pleasure from my lips.

I am being loud. So very gods-damned loud.

His fingers dig into my ass.

“I told you I would fuck you like a queen,” he growls. I mumble something incoherent in return, so disarmed by the pleasure he’s prising from my flesh that I can hardly string a sentence together, but it’s not enough for him. Growling, Lorcan fists my hair and wrenches my head up.

My scalp aches, but he holds me there, fucking me from behind while all I can do is drool onto the sheets. His every stroke is both pleasurable and punishing; he fucks me rough and with a touch of pain, just how I like it. How he knows I like it.

He leans down to my ear. “Did you doubt me, Amberly? Did you think I would actually die in that battle?”

My stomach flutters. There’s that note of playful danger to his voice, the one that insinuates a ‘punishment’ if I give him the wrong answer. The prospect excites me.

Even still, I find it hard to formulate a coherent response with how forcefully he’s pounding into me.

“N…No…”

He smacks my ass at that. It’s not a hard slap—just enough to elicit a little sting—but I whimper in delight all the same.

Gods, I am so fucking turned on right now.

“Don’t lie to me, lionheart,” he purrs, wrapping his free hand around the back of my neck and squeezing. My insides turn to water. “Try again.”

A loud moan tumbles from my lips. This is amazing.

“Well…maybe…I doubted you a little…” My voice hitches as he yanks back on my hair, forcing me to look up at him. Though his face is wrought with pleasure, his eyes are blazing, looking every inch like a warrior who just took down a king.

He cocks his head tauntingly. “Then what is it that we’ve learned, hm?”

I moan in utter bliss. He’s riding me like his goddamn prized mare and I’m loving it. “Not to underestimate you…”

My voice is choked with pleasure. Fuck. I am so fucked.

“That”—he presses a firm kiss to my lips—”and that I will kill kings for you. That I will burn entire kingdoms to keep you safe. You understand me, lionheart? I’m never letting anyone hurt you again.”

He releases my hair, and for the first time today, the realization truly hits me. He took down a king for me. A king, who would have been the most powerful Fae in all the lands.

No, that’s not true. The most powerful Fae in all the lands is here, fucking me into oblivion.

Something about that unravels me. Moaning and squirming, my arousal for him intensifies, and before long it’s splashing down my thighs and glistening on his cock. In fact, all that can be heard is the sucking and popping of my wetness as he pumps in and out of me.

He growls appreciatively.

“Good girl,” he praises, his kiss tender despite the punishing grip of his fingers. “You know just who’s fucking you, hm?”

“Yes…” The word is a mere whisper. Every thrust is driving me towards the orgasm that threatens to undo me entirely, and I know it will undo me. I can feel the chemicals leaking into my blood, locking up my muscles and sending my heart into overdrive.

This is going to be the biggest one yet.

Just as I am on the precipice of utter oblivion, he pulls out and flips me onto my back. Then, he rams back into me, fucking me relentlessly as he sinks his canines into the tender flesh between my neck and shoulder.

My entire world implodes.

“LORCAN!” I scream, the force of my orgasm compounding with the might of the mate bond as it sets into place—as our lifeforce is shared and we become two halves of a whole. It’s so powerful that my entire vision goes black and, for several seconds, my reality is reduced to nothing but oblivion and sensation.

Then, finally, I come around, my vision clearing as the frantic noise of my breathing hijacks my hearing. I feel Lorcan’s weight pressing down on me and the jerky, frantic movements of his chest as he fights for air, no doubt having experienced the same euphoria I just did.

I become aware of a warm, soothing wetness between my thighs, and with a flutter of my stomach, I realize he did come inside of me. In fact, judging by the volume of it, he came a lot.

My chest swells with warmth. Something about that makes me feel fuzzy. Good, as though it makes me more intimately connected to him somehow.

For many minutes, we just lie there, bathing in each other’s company as we catch our breath. Then, I feel a gentle hand on my chin, and my face is turned upwards.

I stare into Lorcan’s eyes. Lorcan’s gorgeous, emerald eyes, once again ringed with silver.

They grow misty. I start to tear up as well.

He presses his lips to mine.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs with a touch of reverence. “Absolutely beautiful.