equal. My Bonded. My Mate.” Sin grins with his newfound favorite word. “And when you retake the crown?” I ask, reaching up to twirl a lock of his hair around my finger. I speak the words with confidence, not willing to consider the possibility that we may fail. Not yet. Not right now. My question fans the flames in his eyes, and his returning smile is as sinful as his name. “You will be devastating on the throne, my love. Her Black Grace. It suits you.” I capture his mouth with mine, tasting the truth in his words and the devotion on his tongue. Tonight is reserved for me to experience one
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