Bewitching Rhaego (Clecanian, #8)

by Victoria Aveline

There was no blade on Clecania that could slice him as deeply as that tear.

Even now, he should be isolating and devising contingency strategies, yet only one pitiful thought lingered in his mind: She wants to spend time with me. It was a sappy notion that suffused him with unwelcomed giddiness, but he couldn’t shake it.

“I crave your natural smile. Your teeth are far too pretty to ever offend me.”

Rhaego wanted her to want his touch, not bitterly accept it because she thought she had no choice.

In truth, she’d very much like to try all the things he’d mentioned. Tea, a few puffs of indica, a massage, and an orgasm induced by this colossal gentleman demon sounded like the type of bedtime story dreams were made of.

Sitting still, she was a work of art, but in motion? Goddess help him. He might just walk straight off a cliff if he couldn’t unlock his eyes from the hypnotic sway of her lush hips.

Clutching the flower to her chest, she beamed up at Rhaego. His purr rumbled out of him for a moment before he muffled it and blushed.

The minor inconvenience sent her into an irrational tizzy.

She still felt guilty that Rhaego was going to all this trouble, but here alone in her room, just for tonight, with no one around to judge her, Aurora silently admitted she liked being looked after by him. A lot.

All he wanted was to trouble himself for her. To demonstrate the lengths at which he yearned to trouble himself for her. To prove he could make her happy in all ways and instill in her a sense that he was essential to her life and her happiness. Indispensable.

Rhaego had always felt a marrow-deep need to prove himself. He’d structured his life around this secret goal. To prove to all of Tuva that he had value. That he contributed good to the world, not bad.

there was something insidious about insecurity sown during youth. The roots were deep. They burrowed into young spongy bone and grew alongside their host, hardening and aging until there was no distinguishing between what was natural and what was planted.

He didn’t know why—he didn’t know if in desperation he’d transferred his unattainable goal onto the female least likely to ever find him worthy—but he felt that if he could make Aurora believe he was honorable, that that might heal what he’d been trying to heal for so long.

His insides warmed as though sunshine were moving toward him though he couldn’t see any glimpse of her yet.

He’d never been so demanding of a female, and he found that her continued obedience did something lascivious to him. The dynamic was a bit intoxicating. Yet he was unsure as to whether he should be allowing himself to enjoy it.

“That’s a beautiful thought,” she murmured. He traced the curves of her lovely face. “You inspire beautiful thoughts.”

She’d asked if this mission was worth it. He might lose his city, but if he could gain her affection, it would not merely be a consolation prize. It would be an echelon of reward he hadn’t known existed. And yes. For that, his sacrifice would be worth it.

Rhaego straightened his hair between his horns, finally catching her eye. “Ready?” The question was full of significance, but she didn’t feel undermined by it the way she might’ve if someone else were asking. It didn’t sound like Ready? You’d better be. It sounded like Ready? If not, I’ve got you. We’ll figure it out. I’ll see you through.

Aurora might not know the rules of Tuvastan etiquette, but she was kind. Truly kind. It shone out of her like sunshine and helped to melt the frigid exterior of most Tuvastans she came across.

“The Goddess was unreasonably generous when she formed you.” Aurora’s skin warmed, her body swaying closer to his. He met her eyes. “It would be blasphemous to hide the fruits of her labor.”

Heart too large for his ribcage, he forced his eyes to remain open for as long

as he could, never wanting to forget the sight of Aurora sleeping in his arms, safe and trusting. What if he lost this?

She was so beautiful. The Goddess had stolen pieces of the sky to form her eyes and weaved pale morning sunlight through her hair.

Rhaego grinned and brushed his fingers along her jaw, drinking in the sight of

her fiery eyes. “Do you have a fever too, little doe?” Her glare softened, and she took a deep breath. “Only when it comes to you.” She kissed him then. A sweet, soft kiss that made his heart leap.

“You’ve already earned me, Rhaego,” she whispered, making him shiver though he rejected her ...

“Are you okay?” she murmured. “Yes.” His answer was muffled. She tugged on his hair. “Really?” she pressed. He chuckled and pulled back, leveling her with his warm gaze. “You make me okay when I am not okay, little doe.”

That was what Rhaego was to her right now. Dangerous and safe. Alluring and frightening. He was a ride she desperately wanted to ride. But if she didn’t heed his warnings and pushed him too far too fast, would she regret it?

“I regret the timing of this,” he began. “Do you require anything else of me before I go?” Sure. Don’t go. Let me see all of you no matter how scary it might be. I’m falling in love with you.

The word love had drifted through her mind earlier that day, and her heart had latched onto it. She wasn’t falling. She’d fallen. Hard.

Bright moons, soft dirt, the smell of crushed leaves. And one word, repeating over and over. Mine.

He relaxed back on his heels, an addict finally getting a hit of the drug he’d craved all day.

“I knew you were mine,”

“I’m going to make your cunt into a mold. Every vein of my cock will be imprinted inside you.”

“The heat has only begun.” The crimson fever in his eyes pulsed brighter. “Beg the Goddess for strength, little doe.”

I love you. Her words echoed into his swelling heart, intensifying the ache.