“We are formidable,” she whispered, using his own words of months ago as to what he felt of their union.

And they were. He believed that to his bones.

In truth, his unease in that moment was not simply this information shared after she went with the other women to meet the Coven.

It was the news that the Beast was amongst them.

Men, he could and would fight, doing this at all times with great confidence he would prevail.

And he was learning his wife had skills and power, which she used deftly, and of which he was tremendously proud.

But Silence flinging balls of fire at sorcerers and Silence facing the Beast were two vastly different things.

“Mars,” she called, and the focus on her he had lost, he again gained.

“I wish to make children with you,” he said softly.

“I know,” she replied in the same tone as her beautiful face grew gentle and her eyes turned quicksilver.

“I wish to watch you grow old,” he continued, moving his hands from her hips to her waist and upward.

“And I the same with you. Both, my darling king.”

He slid one hand up her spine to the back of her neck and around, to cup her jaw while he wound his other arm around her to pull her closer.

“It is a contradiction,” he murmured. “For if this had not befallen us, this fate we share, I would not have met you. But now that it is here, I dread it with a power that is almost paralyzing.”

“We will prevail,” she assured him with a strength in her tone he wished he could find in his heart.

“I have never felt this feeling before,” he admitted.

She cast him a playful grin. “Welcome to the world we all inhabit where we understand we are but human and not gods walking the earth.”

He did not share her humor, but he gave her a smile regardless.

Silence read it was false.

“Mars,” she said soothingly, moving one hand up to stroke along his collarbone.

“I do not mind the weight of Triton on my shoulders, Silence. I mind it on yours.”

“We will prevail,” she repeated, trailing the fingers of her other hand low, down his chest, his stomach and beyond.

“My love,” he grunted when her little hand wrapped around his thickening cock.

She dropped closer, stroking him as she whispered against his lips. “We will prevail.”

He surged into her hand.

Her eyes grew lazy.

He liked that look on his wife, always very much liked that particular look on his wife, so much so, he slid his fingers back into her hair and formed a fist in its silk.

His Silence positioned his hardness to her sex and impaled herself on him.

“Silence,” he murmured against her mouth as she took him, her eyes open, staring into his.

She breathed against his mouth.