Odhran followed without hesitation, pushing him deeper into the bedding and swinging a leg over to straddle him. Her weight pinned him there, warm and insistent. "Don't worry, it won't take long," she murmured, though the words held no comfort.
"No. I have a mate," Marek managed, his voice rough as he pressed his hands against her hips, trying to create space.
Odhran scoffed. "Yet here you are, chasing after someone else who isn't yours."
The truth of it stung, silencing him for a moment. Her hands moved over his chest, possessive. "Count yourself lucky I'm not asking for your soul."
He pushed harder, muscles straining, but she used her magic to reach for the knife in the brazier with startling speed. She gripped the handle firmly as she pressed the blade to the side of his neck. Cold steel bit just enough to draw a thin line of warning.
