ACOWAR (Rhysand's POV)

Chapter 15

(Rhysand's POV)

The bright morning sun streamed through our bedroom window, casting long, golden rays over the sheets as I opened my eyes. But that wasn't what had woken me. I'd thought I was dreaming—Feyre's lips on my neck, my chest, my stomach—but as her hands drifted lower, I smiled, gently catching her wrists and drawing her back up to me. Her skin was warm against mine as our mouths met, soft and slow. The taste of her still ignited a fire within me, urging me to claim more of her. I turned her gently, laying Feyre on her stomach, my lips trailing down the length of her spine as I came to kneel behind her. My hands couldn't resist exploring every inch, always craving more.

Her quiet, sleepy murmurs only fueled the flames as I gripped her hips, lifting her until I lay beneath, the scent of her dizzying. My eyes nearly rolled back at the first taste. Feyre, with that lazy gleam in her eyes, her hair mussed from sleep—it all sent me so close to the edge. Again and again, I drew single, slow strokes until she was nearly begging. Her thighs shook in my hands as I tightened my grasp, needing more. Please, Rhys. Please. Her pleas carried across our bond, frantic and desperate for me. I decided to be a good mate and give her exactly what she had been asking for.

Slipping out from underneath her, one hand still gripped to her hips, I slid in slowly as Feyre shoved her face into one of our pillows. The muffled moans grew louder with each of my thrusts. My mate. My mate. It repeated over and over each time I was inside of her. That innate need to claim her, to mark her as mine, being sated. But this was always much more than that - I needed her in other ways I couldn't explain. Ways that went far beyond the mating of the Fae.

Someone coughed in the room and I dragged myself from the memory, blinking the image away. One of the governors, a tall, pale-faced male with long brown hair caught my eyes and scoffed. It was incredibly rude to be caught thinking about. . . those things when in a meeting, especially one as important as this. I cringed, hoping none of them scented it. Even after only a few hours away, I couldn't resist thinking of my mate, wanting to be near her again.

The oval room was packed with the leaders of the Palaces, males who dealt with finances, laws, and defense of my territories. Thankfully, their discussion seemed to continue without any disruption on my part.

Please come spare me from Cassian and Nesta's bickering. Feyre's voice cut into my thoughts, her once again dragging me from the present moment. Her words were laced in a different kind of desperation than earlier.

Regretting becoming High Lady?

Is this part of my duties? Feyre sent along a series of images with her question: Nesta emerging onto the rooftop, Cassian's predatory stare, Nesta's. . . well, her typical demeanor.

Why do you think I was so desperate for a partner? I've had almost five hundred centuries to deal with this alone. It's only fair you have to endure it now. As much as I longed to be near Feyre, I was glad for this meeting - if only to get away from Cassian and Nesta's bickering.

Please. She begged.

What will you give me?

Her only reply was a hiss.

I laughed, nothing else needed to be said. I'm in a meeting with the governor's of the Palaces. They might be a little pissy if I vanish.

Across the city, I tapped on another mind. If my shields were black stone walls—adamant and unyielding—then his were something else entirely: pure metal, laced with barbed wire and humming with a deadly charge, ready to strike any intruder. Thankfully, Azriel had a way to identify who was trying to reach him. His steel defenses parted just enough to let my message slip through. Still, my talons hesitated as I slipped past that crack, wary of the sharp jolt I'd felt the first time I'd dared to reach inside.