My Mate Hid Our Bond For Years To Save My Life — So He Gave Up The Throne For Me
Part 2
I nodded, my breath catching in my throat as I held his gaze.
Tyler took my wrist gently, reverently, his lips brushing against my frantic pulse.
He didn’t hesitate anymore, his eyes locking onto mine as he finally bit down.
He bit hard enough to break the skin, a deliberate, claiming pressure that left the perfect imprint of his teeth.
I gasped at the sharp, localized pain, my back arching against the mattress.
But the pain vanished instantly, replaced by a surge of overwhelming, molten pleasure that flooded through the newly cemented bond.
I felt complete, tethered to him in a way that defied explanation, a golden thread pulling our souls together.
He meticulously licked away the few drops of blood, the marks on my wrist already beginning to heal into a permanent, beautiful scar.
“Your turn,” Tyler rasped, his voice rough with emotion and dark desire.
“Where?”
I asked, a feral smile playing on my lips as I looked at the man who was finally mine.
“Wherever you want,” he answered, leaning into me, completely surrendering his strength.
I didn’t think twice before lunging forward, biting down hard on the solid muscle of his shoulder.
Tyler groaned, a deep, rumbling sound of pure pleasure that vibrated against my chest.
He pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck as I marked him as mine.
When I pulled back, the clear imprint of my teeth remained on his tan skin, stark and undeniably perfect.
“He can’t reach us now,” Tyler murmured softly, wrapping me in a fierce, protective embrace.
“We only belong to each other.”
I nestled into his warmth, feeling the bond between us pulse with an impossible, blinding light.
The next few days passed like an idyllic, isolated dream.
Dan returned to the cottage from the market, his face splitting into a wide grin when he found Tyler standing by the stove.
Color had fully returned to my mate’s face, the terrible fever nothing but a distant memory.
“I won’t tell the King where you are,” Dan promised, clasping Tyler’s hand in a tight, brotherly grip.
“Stay as long as you like.
The cottage is yours.”
And we did.
I could hardly believe the profound difference in Tyler during those secluded weeks.
Gone was the cold, heavily controlled prince who had kept everyone at arm’s length for his own survival.
This new Tyler was warm, incredibly open, smiling easily and laughing loud enough to echo off the timber walls.
He was finally himself, entirely free from his father’s toxic manipulation.
But as the blissful weeks turned into a month, the harsh reality of the world beyond the forest began to bleed in.
Dan arrived with trembling hands, whispering about the chaos tearing through the capital.
With Tyler’s sudden disappearance and renunciation of the throne, the royal line of succession was fundamentally broken, and King Craig was furious.
Foreign delegations were demanding answers, and the kingdom was quietly falling apart at the seams.
We began making quiet, desperate plans to flee to a neighboring territory, anywhere far from the King’s ruthless reach.
But our fragile peace shattered the very next morning.
We thought we were finally safe from the King’s reach, but when a royal guard detail appeared at our cottage door, I realized our nightmare was only just beginning.
Would Tyler be dragged back to the very hell we’d just escaped?
