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“Oh, I love it when you’re bloodthirsty.” He rubbed at his sternum, groaning. “Such a contrast to my nature, but it calls to me. It might even seduce me into staying a little longer.”

Amyrian said that like he needed convincing, but Okthana knew that look too well, hips grinding and teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

She wrapped her hand around his throat, claws digging into vein and tendon. “Did you not hear me when I said I was exhausted?”

“That’s why I intend to give this morning, rather than take,” he rasped. “I think you could do with a little relaxing.”

Tempting. Then again, he was so very pretty when on his hands and knees, tight arse filled with her shadows. In fact, now that she summoned the image to her mind, it was hard to erase it. Her umbra was already gathering around her, as if it was just as excited by the idea.

Amyrian leaned into her hold. “You know,” he said, voice choked as he nipped at one of her tits, “I can still taste your honeyed cunt while you do that.”

Okthana rolled her eyes. “Must you insist on reading my mind?”

“I don’t need to read your mind, love.” He tossed the linens away from them and knelt beside her, spreading her thighs wide. “Even without the bond between us, your body and shadows say it all. I only aim to serve my blessed mate.”

Amyrian held her gaze and bent, arse in the air as he ran his long tongue down her belly and to her quim, latching on.

“Cheeky,” she hissed. “You’re practically begging for it.”

“Mmm.” He detached with a pop and licked two of his fingers, spreading the wetness before plunging inside of her. “Don’t pretend you don’t adore it. Go on. Fuck me, Okthana. Let it all out so you can clear your head and drain some of that blimmin’ fury I feel simmering beneath your skin.”

She did adore it, the seductive shite. “You’re getting it extra hard, just for the sass.”

Amyrian pushed his knees farther apart and went back to feasting on her clit, Okthana allowing a rare moan at the sight of that puckered hole being offered so freely. Eagerly.

A thought and her umbra snatched up a jar of oil, pouring some into her hand before dumping the rest over Amyrian’s backside and tossing the stoneware to the bed. Grabbing his cock, she slathered the length, urging her shadows to mimic its shape and size, the writhing mass condensing and poising itself behind him. He moaned long and deep as it eased inside, lids fluttering when the shadows thickened, stretching him.

“Remember, you asked for it,” Okthana said, voice husky, pulling the shadows back, thrusting in again. “I’m going to⁠—”

The doors banged open, Caryx sweeping into the chamber.

“I’m busy,” she snapped, fisting Amyrian’s hair and holding him right where he was, her climax already looming.

“Yes, I can see that.” Caryx didn’t to look away, holding up a crinkled parchment. “You, however, are the one who told me to inform you the moment ‘that shapeshifting wank’ made contact.”

Just the mention of that simpering, fucking rat sent her raging, Amyrian gasping when the shadows picked up their pace, mirroring her mood.

“Where is he?” she growled, back arching when Amyrian added a third finger, matching her stroke for angry stroke.

Caryx scanned the page. “He would like a word within the next few days. Here.”

Of course he would. “Fine. Now get…the fuck…out.”

She vaguely heard the door close as they came in tandem, Okthana spasming, Amyrian’s release painting her side and stomach.

“You’re fucking gorgeous when you’re pissed,” he said, lapping up their mess before giving her clit an affectionate slap.

Okthana returned it by pulling violently out of him, the arm of shadow whipping out and leaving a welt on one globe of his perfect arse. “And you were right. I do feel more relaxed.”

“Good.” Amyrian chuckled, running the back of a hand across his chin as he stood. “You’re less likely to pout when I leave.”

She snapped her teeth at him. “I don’t pout.” No matter how it made Okthana’s blood boil that her mate couldn’t stay with her because he was required elsewhere with official regularity. Or that the two of them lived under the shroud of Amyrian potentially catching the Waste, and it was better that he didn’t spend too much time in the Forgotten Lands.

Okthana never fucking pouted.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did.” He pulled up his trousers and slipped on a loose outer robe. “Whatever gets you through the separation. I, for one, sulk constantly during the weeks we’re apart. My siblings can’t stand me.”

“Speaking of which…” She raised a brow, pretending to check her nails. “Your sister is⁠—”