The heat radiating from Akira's skin was entirely intoxicating.
He didn't rush. For a man who had spent his entire life waging wars and commanding armies, he moved with agonizing, deliberate slowness. He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his amber eyes burning with a dark, heavy hunger that made my pulse roar in my ears.
"Kitsune," he breathed, his voice a low, rough rumble. He brushed a stray lock of gray hair from my face. "If we do this... there is no turning back. You are mine, and I am yours, until the stars burn out."
"I told you," I whispered, reaching up to gently trace the line of his jaw. "I'm not going anywhere."
A deep, ragged sigh escaped him. He sat up just enough to pull the ties of his white inner robe, letting the silk fall away from his broad, scarred chest.
In the warm orange glow of the charcoal brazier, the Consort Mark over his heart pulsed with brilliant blue light.
