Jaded [The Moonlight Breed 9] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Gabrielle Evans (good novels to read TXT) 📗

As instructed, and because he really had no choice after that arousing display of dominance, Zuriel dropped his head back against the window and called Spiro’s name while he tensed and shuddered through a mind-bending, earth-shattering orgasm.

“Beautiful.” Lifting his hand to his lips, Spiro looked him right in the eye before popping one finger into his mouth to suck off the creamy drops of seed. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he plunged deep, burying himself to the hilt, hissing through his own climax.

When the world stopped spinning and he could finally breathe without panting, Zuriel extracted his hands from Spiro’s grip and wrapped them tightly around his mate’s neck. Something profound had happened, and while he didn’t quite understand it, he wasn’t afraid.

“Thank you for not kicking me out.”

Tapping his chin to get his attention, Spiro waited for Zuriel to meet his gaze before offering him a tender smile and a chaste kiss. “I’m still waiting for you to see it.”

Maybe he’d be able to see it if the guy would stop being so damn cryptic and tell him what he was supposed to be looking for. “That’s because I don’t understand half the things you say.”

“Yes, you do, but that’s okay. I can wait until you’re ready.”

There was that vague, cryptic shit again, and frustration began to taint his otherwise perfect mood. “Can you just say something normal for a change?”

One corner of his lips curled up, and Spiro bent to rub the tips of their noses together. “You can seduce me whenever you want. I won’t kick you out, and I won’t complain.”

Now that, Zuriel understood. Arching his neck, he nipped at his mate’s bottom lip and purred happily. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Chapter Eleven

“You’re pretty powerful, right?”

They held hands as they walked along the narrow dirt path through the woods, taking a shortcut into town. “I suppose.”

Spiro wasn’t sure if Zuriel meant his strength or his magic, but either would be an accurate statement. As a lion shifter, he was naturally powerful in his animal form. White-pelted shifters were surrounded by ridiculously potent magic, though it was more of an energy, not spells and enchantments. Elves, however, were only outmatched by gifted witches, but in modern times, many of them—like him—no longer practiced the ancient magics.

“Then why didn’t you challenge Xander to be alpha of the pack in Wyoming?”

“Xander is a good man and an honorable alpha. Why would I challenge him?”

Zuriel huffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I think Xander is kickass, but if you’re stronger than he is, why did you want to follow him?”

“Lirimaer, I may have been born to lead, but I’ve never wanted the job. It’s a lot of responsibility and stress to be accountable for so many people.” If he hadn’t been forced to accept his new title by the threat of death, he would have gladly handed the crown to the next in line.

“I can see that.” Zuriel nodded in confirmation. “How are you ruler of the whole race, though? I mean, what about the people who live on the other side of the world? Or the ones that aren’t part of a pack?”

“Circle,” Spiro correctly gently. “We are a circle of elves.” It wasn’t as complicated as Zuriel was trying to make it out to be, though. “It’s much like a president. He or she rules a country, but they can’t regulate everyone at every moment. Each circle has a leader. On this island, for this circle, I am their leader.”

“Then why do you need a king at all, especially since The Council oversees a lot of the disputes?”

It was a legitimate question, and Spiro squeezed his mate’s hand a little tighter, impressed with his insightfulness. “You make a good point. It’s a tradition left over from a simpler time when we weren’t so divided. I am the only person who can declare war on another race as a whole, but other than that, you’re right. The Council deals with most of the major disputes now.”

The Council was good in theory, but Spiro wasn’t sure how effective they were in practice. Most of the rules they set forth were generalized, regulating or aiding only a small percentage of the people they governed. Their ideals were as outdated as some elven traditions, and while they were undergoing changes, they really needed to tear down and rebuild, starting with a new foundation.

Wrinkling his small nose, Zuriel looked up at him from the corner of his eye. “Then why are you still here? You did the rite so you won’t die. Can’t you just renounce the throne or whatever?”

Swallowing back his sigh, Spiro undid the buttons on his shirt down to his sternum and parted the fabric to reveal the elven symbols branded into the skin on his chest. “These aren’t just pretty markings. This is the crest of my family and sealed by magic. It won’t fade, and it cannot be removed until I die.”

To his annoyance, Zuriel rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth around as though he found Spiro completely absurd. “That’s stupid. Rissian can be king without some stupid tattoo on his chest. It’s not like that dumb thing gives you superpowers or anything. You’re not Iron Man.”

“I’m pretty sure Iron Man didn’t have any superpowers, either.”

Zuriel stopped suddenly, spun around, and stomped right on top of Spiro’s foot. “You are purposely missing the point!” He breathed heavily as he fisted his hands on his hips and squared his shoulders. “If you want to be king, just say so. If you don’t, stop making excuses and walk away. Rissian doesn’t need some damn ritual, and he certainly doesn’t need you to die to get the job done.”

He’d never seen his mate this upset, and Spiro actually took a step back, hoping to prevent any further damage to his already throbbing foot. “Why is it so important to you?” Maybe Zuriel