“Laurel.” Her name is a sigh. My hands cup her ass as I lift her to me, clinging tightly like I’ll somehow lose her if I let go. Our foreheads touch, and she gives me another of those soft smiles I love so much. “I love you,” I whisper, then gently thrust inside her, slowly, reverently. We find a slower rhythm, hands exploring one another like it’s the first time. “I love you. You’re mine. And I’m yours. And you’re perfect. We’re perfect.” The words are a soothing murmur, the backdrop of my worship of her. I can’t get enough, can’t get close enough to her. Deep within me is some feeling that we’ll be parted, but that must be the mating bond. To soothe it, I pull her even closer, wrapping her hair in my hands and gently tugging her head back so I can kiss her deeper.

“Thorne,” she moans. “I…” she trails off, unable to say the words I know she feels.

“Shhhh…” I whisper. “It’s okay.” I trail kisses over every inch of her as we both ease into our climax this time, moans soft and gentle and filled with emotion neither of us can fully express.

When we finish, we make quick work of bathing and dressing for the festival, running late for our meeting time with Fionn and Silene. Laurel wears a soft pink cotton gown that brings out the rosy hues of her skin. The square neckline accentuates her breasts, and the ruching along the bodice has her curves on full display. She starts to braid her hair back.

“Will you leave it down?” I ask, and she smiles. Air swirls around us, wrapping around her hair and leaving it flowing down her back in soft curls.

“Silene taught me that trick,” she says with a smirk, and I chuckle.

“Then I’ll have to thank her, because you look ravishing.” She blushes before slipping on delicate pink shoes.

Laurel didn’t want to go to this festival—she hasn’t gone in over three hundred years. The last time she went was with her parents, and just five years later, her people were slaughtered in the very place where the festival is held. The Battle of Moormyr, named after the valley called Moormyr, is known throughout the Four Kingdoms as being a dark day for Thayaria, regardless of which side of the story you hear. It’s challenging for Laurel to be in that valley without remembering the war that cost her everything. She’d told me all of this in the early light of morning a week ago, wrapped in my arms.