The Warrior King (Inferno Rising) Owen, Abigail (books to read for 13 year olds TXT) 📖

“After seeing us both fight and sacrifice for them?” He shook his head. “Most are…welcoming.” At that she did sense a sarcastic edge to his thoughts.

“And those who aren’t?”

He shrugged. “Some will leave, if they haven’t already. Most will stay and wait.”

“I see.” She blew out, long and low. “I’m so sorry. About Gorgon.”

Only a small shaft of blackness pierced the emotions inside him. Guilt and grief all fused together.

She took his face in her hands. “He sacrificed himself for you. Knowing that we’d mated. He forgave you, if he ever harbored any ill will. I’m sure of it.”

Samael nodded again. “I’m sorry about Maul.”

Meira closed her eyes against the slivers of reaction threatening to set in. “My father.” She’d take ages to sort through all that. Right now, all she knew was that underneath her own sorrow and shock was…a grateful heart. “He was with us all that time. Protecting us.” She opened her eyes, tears stinging but not falling, and smiled. “I wish I’d known.”

Sam nodded. He took a few breaths, as though getting ready to speak but not sure what to say. “And us?”

As if she could leave him? As if she ever would. “We’re mates.”

“I left you—”

Didn’t he understand? She lifted her hair from the back of her neck and turned so he could see the mark there. “You figured it out in the end.”

He brushed a finger over the brand, sending shivers of gorgeous sensation skating over every nerve ending.

Then he dropped his hands from her, fisting them on the bed beside her, leather gauntlets, for once, not worn. “You say that, but how can you forgive me? I was going to leave you, die so that you could be another man’s. I—”

She picked up one of his scarred hands and pressed a kiss to the puckered skin. “You were acting like a mate. Protecting me the only way you could see. I understand.”

“You’re amazing,” he murmured.

“Not really. I figured something out through all this…”

Her mate both frowned and smiled at the same time, as though the emotions themselves were battling to take over his face even as the struggle in his heart pressed against her. “What’s that?”

“That the fates seem to know what they’re doing.”

“I thought you don’t believe in the fates?”

Meira shrugged. “I’ve seen too much proof lately to not believe. Two things have convinced me the most. One”—she held up a finger—“in the middle of when you were trying your hardest to sacrifice your life in that idiotic plan, our bond solidified, saving us both. Because I would have died without you, bond or no.”

The strongest man she knew trembled against her. “Hell, Meira…I don’t deserve you.”

“And yet I love you anyway—”

She gasped as Samael surged forward, taking her lips in a kiss that was both wild and tender, lips seeking lips, tongue seeking tongue, speaking of forgiveness and love, faith and trust, and a need too long denied. His emotions buffeted her both through her gift and through the unique link that connected them now. Relief and grief and elation and forgiveness all swirling together. Underneath that intensity, a surging need to claim, to bask in the fact that they were mates, now and always. No matter what came next.

Gods, she loved this protective, self-sacrificing man with emotions that ran deeply inside him, an underground river that only she knew.

Shoving aside the blankets, he joined her in the bed, his weight pressing into her in the most delicious way, the hard length of his cock jutting into the soft skin of her belly. Hands turned frantic, and for a second, she hoped… But then, on a long groan, he pulled away, burying his face in her neck and breathing hard.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

He groaned again. “I don’t want to, but we’re not done talking.” He lifted his head, and finally…finally she could see hope surging through the depths of grief and self-blame in his eyes.

“You said two?” he pressed.

She smiled, that urgency from her dream surging forward. “I think I’ve had a vision.”

Samael blinked, and she chuckled. He probably wasn’t expecting that. “A vision?” he asked slowly.

She nodded. Then, unable to contain herself, she pushed forward to kiss him again. “I’ve seen our child, Sam,” she whispered against his lips. “A son.”

Her mate went rigid with shock against her. “I didn’t know you had visions.”

She tipped her forehead against his. “I didn’t, either, but I saw him. He has your hair and beautiful coloring, but my eyes. He’s tall and strong and smart, and he’ll sit on the throne of the Black Clan one day.”

“Gods above,” he choked, then gathered her closer in his arms. “When?”

Her body lit up from within, and she smiled. “Put a baby inside me tonight, Samael Veles. My heart chose you the first time I saw you in that mirror. You looked through my magic and saw me when no one else did. But I wouldn’t let myself believe.”

His erection swelled and pressed against her, but still he shook his head. “To bring a child into this world…now…”

They both had to choose this. One of the few fair things about dragon shifters—both partners had to choose to create a child as they made love.

Meira lifted a hand and gently traced her lover’s lips, his eyes. “I don’t know how we get there. I don’t even know if you and I survive his war, but our child will rule this clan. But only if we choose him now.”

Samael searched her face. Almost unconsciously, his hips started to pump, and she opened her legs wider, pressing into the slow, driving pressure.

“You want this?” he asked, voice shaking, dropping low.

“I want this.” She’d seen her child’s face. Had given him the part of her heart a mother reserved for her children.

“Gods forgive me, I want it, too. To see your belly swell with my child. To start a new life with you. A new future for our people.”

An incandescent happiness swirled through their bond, coming from both of them,