Bride of Ashes (Kingdom of Shadow and Ruin #1)

40. Reyla

40

REYLA

I f he’d demanded I go up onto the roof with him, I would’ve shaken my head and walked away. But he’d asked, and I’d bet anything this man rarely asked anything of anyone. It told me this meant something to him.

Tonight had gone well. Sure, we’d wallowed in sexual tension at the start, but that appeared to be the only way we could communicate. Until he started teaching me. After that, the tension might’ve simmered well out of sight, but he’d focused on helping me.

And as irresistible as I found the taunting, teasing, snide Lore, I liked this one even more. Too much.

Braiding my hair? It had been all I could do not to lean back in his arms. To turn and stroke his face.

Let it go, Reyla.

I jerked out a nod, indicating I’d join him on the roof.

He smiled again, sweet and almost boyish. The appeal that smile held . . . I didn’t want to think about what it might mean to my soul. I’d made it clear I was committed to Merrick, and I meant it. I’d married him. He’d made me his queen. It wouldn’t be long before I’d tell him I was ready to join him in his bed.

There was no place for Lore in that.

But there was a place for him tonight.

“Nothing sneaky,” I warned him as he took my hand and gently drew me over to one of the tall windows.

“Only when you beg,” he whispered by my ear.

I ignored how something that simple could make my skin tingle and drew up some of the ready snark I used most of the time with this man. “Never happening.”

“We’ll see.”

A breeze swept through the window, making my pulse skip. Insects hummed in the distance, their chirps and squeaks washing across me in rolling waves.

Lore stuck one leg through the opening and made his way outside, standing on something and holding onto the edge of the window, his gaze meeting mine.

I'd seen how far down the ground was before, and the thought of him just . . . dangling out there with only his hands keeping him from falling made my heart rush up into my throat. “Be careful.”

His hands slipped on the edge of the window, and his eyes widened, his mouth dropping in shock as he started to tumble backward.

I snapped my hands around his wrists, leaning partway out and holding on, desperate to keep him from falling.

“See?” he said. “You do care.” He loosened my grip and returned his hands to the ledge, tilting his head toward his boots.

The damn asshole stood on a strip of ledge that was wider than his feet.

“You really are a jerk. I was worried.”

His slick smile grew. “And I like that you were.”

“Actually, I wasn't.” I stepped back from the window and snapped my arms across my chest. “I should leave.”

“Please don't.” Only the hint of vulnerability in his voice held me in place. “I'm sorry. I won't tease you again. Come out with me? Sit on the roof, and I'll share all my dreams and sorrows.”

Now that was much too tempting. I didn't know much about this man except that he riled me up like no other and that my body craved him. My heart a bit, too, if I was being honest, which I wasn't.

Seeing that I wasn't running, he jutted his hand toward me. The boyish look on his face made me take it.

With a sly smile that disappeared too soon, he helped me ease my legs out and sit on the window sill, my feet dangling. When you stood on the ground below, the surface of the castle appeared smooth, but up here, I could see it was uneven, with the ledge encircling the tower and some stones sticking out enough to step on. Others projected enough that someone could use them to climb up onto the peaked, sharply sloped roof of the tallest tower where a flag fluttered from a steel post at the top.

Under his guidance, I turned and carefully lowered my feet to join him on the ledge, keeping a tight grip on the sill .

“Rather high up, isn't it?” I said, my voice shaky. Heights didn't bother me. I couldn't ride dragons if they did. But this was unlike anything I'd done before in my life. I wasn't sitting in a dragon's saddle, clinging to the spike jutting up from between its shoulders while it spiraled toward the ground. That, I'd done a billion times. Cling to the side of a stone castle? This was a first.

“No higher than when someone I know poked holes in the side of a ship and then used them to make her way from her porthole window to mine,” he said.

“Not me,” I said, stifling my laugh.

“They were hard to miss.” Damn, he was gorgeous when the wind rustled his dark hair and his eyes gleaming brighter than the stars in the sky. It would be easy to lose myself in this man, but I couldn't.

“Do you want to go first, or should I lead?” he asked.

In this dance? Him. I jerked my chin up to show he should go ahead of me.

“Always start here.” He pointed to a stone sticking out at his chest level. “Left hand on that one and put your right foot on this one.” He waved to it and took the first steps.

I followed behind him until I could crawl up onto the steep roof, the slate tiles digging into my knees as I made my way up to sit beside him on the roof.

Our thighs and arms brushed, but it felt like friendship, so I didn't make myself move away. I liked how his warmth enfolded me, how he shot me a look that told me he was proud that I'd done this .

“How many times have you come here?” I asked softly, not wanting to stab the night with my voice.

“More than I can count. From the time I was small.”

“I bet your parents loved that.”

“I don't believe they ever knew.”

“Does Merrick?”

He shrugged. “It's not something I chat about with him, but I bet he does.”

“Then he hasn't joined you here.”

“This isn’t his thing. It's solely mine.”

And mine if only borrowed. I wasn't sure what I thought about him sharing this special place with me, but I decided now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Instead, I looked around, taking in the stars and the moon overhead, the way the canopy of dark, shadowy leaves rustled below us. The rare cry of a night bird.

“Each time I come here, it feels new and fresh,” he said, equally soft. “It's pretty, yes, but profound. Sometimes, I just sit here, stunned by the way the moon casts a silvery glow over everything, other times savoring the whip of a storm roaring in from the sea. The moon transforms everything it touches into a shimmering dream.”

“I can almost see it.”

“I want you to see it all.”

“As you do?”

“As we both can. Let me show you.” He leaned close and pointed up, tracing the sky with his fingertip. “The Wyrm, the Dryad, and the Lycanthrope. See the patterns in the stars? They're whispering their secrets. ”

So was he—or his voice was. I'd learned how to raise my mental guards from Tempest, and I could swear they remained strong enough to take on any challenge, even Lore's. Which meant he wasn't lulling me. But why would anyone bother to lull someone into listening while they talked about the stars?

“They’re three of the fiercest beings in mythology. Legends say they fought, clashing until one devoured the others, leaving behind their essence to protect the dawn.”

“Why did they fight?”

“Some say for power.” His voice was as smooth as the night itself.

“Controlling it, I assume.”

“Others say they fought over a love who belonged to none of them, though they each believed it did. Stories in the sky often spin into our lives. The battles, the sacrifices, and the betrayals.”

“One betrayed the others?”

“Isn't that always the way?”

“Not for everyone.” Though one of my friends had.

“In our world, they do.”

“Even you and Merrick?” I asked, looking up into his face that showed me nothing.

“We're as honest with each other as we can be.”

“That doesn't leave out betrayal.”

“We'll never be malicious. Remember that.”

I nodded, though I wasn't sure I agreed. I didn't sense any malice in Merrick. Lore? I was still unsure about this man sitting close beside me.

“What about that cluster over there?” I pointed.

“The Phoenix and the Serpent. Forever locked in a dance of rebirth and death. As one rises, the other falls. It’s said each time a phoenix is born, the serpent dies, and their cycle continues endlessly.”

“We could use some rebirth here,” I said, aware of my longing for a fresh start. “More life in this court would be a welcome change.”

Lore turned his head toward me, his eyes glimmering like the stars overhead, only darker. “And that’s exactly what you’re here to do. Bring new light, new energy to our stale world.”

He pointed out other stars, and while I marveled at them and the stories attached to them, I mostly listened to his voice. When he wasn’t snarling or trying to taunt me, I liked him. One could even say my heart was drawn to him at a time like this.

Finally, he stopped pointing out the stars, and I stopped pestering him for more stories, and we sat quietly, absorbing the gentle peace of the night world around us.

“Thank you for returning my sword,” I said.

“You saw it.”

“It’s stunning. Beautiful. Much nicer than it was when it was handed to me years ago.”

“It was nearly worn out. You should’ve replaced it long ago with something better.”

“I couldn’t.” My throat choked off and that familiar wave of grief washed over me. “When we’ve proven ourselves in training by disarming our instructor with a wooden sword, we’re then eligible for a real one.”

“You speak of your training in the border fortress.”

“One of our instructors was fair but brutal. It took my best friend two years to best him. ”

“How long did it take you?” He propped his arm on the slate roof behind me, offering it as support for me to lean into if I had the need.

I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, but instead of resting my chin on my knees like I’d intended, I did lean back. I did let him support me. And I liked it even though I could see that friendship with Lore was more dangerous to my heart than his kiss or his touch or his teasing.

“I earned a real sword in eighteen months.” I made no attempt to keep the pride from my voice. Few earned the right that quickly, and why would I want to hide an achievement like that? “The instructor saluted me and told me it was time, that I could go to the armory and pick out a real sword. It has a greater meaning and purpose than just sliding it into a sheath on your spine. Once you’ve earned the right to carry that sword, you ride.”

“Dragons. We used to keep them here. Now we only have a few, old ones we take on long journeys.”

“I miss them more than I thought I would. They’re unique. Special.”

“Then you should be there when the eggs hatch to claim one.”

“Are many born since the other courts killed most of the adults?” I asked.

“A few.”

Then I could claim one, though the thought of doing so made me sad. “They don’t like it, you know.”

“The hatchlings?”

“The dragons.” I glanced up at him before turning my head back to watch the canopy sway in the wind far below. “They love their young and don’t like when we take them and force them to train and obey us.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I only learned it recently. While I appreciate your offer, I don’t believe I’ll ever take and work with a hatchling again.”

“There are trained dragons around. You can ride one of those.”

“Maybe.”

“You collected your sword, and you rode into battle,” he said.

“That’s just it. I didn’t need to go to the armory for a sword.” I could barely push my words past the sadness clogging my throat. “Someone gave that one to me.”

“I can tell by your voice that this person is special.”

So special.

“I loved him, and I loved that sword because he gave it to me.” And there it was. I was exposing myself, laying out my grief for this man to mock.

“I’m sorry I took it then.”

“You returned it in better form than it was when I received it.”

“I can turn it back to what it was before. I wouldn’t do anything to tarnish your memories.”

“I like what you did with it.” Though I didn’t like how he was bridging my memories of Kinart with new ones of him. “He died, and I miss him.”

His arm wrapped around me, and he tugged me snug against his side. I sensed no sexual intent, only comfort. “I’d swallow your pain if I could.”

“My pain is the only thing that has kept me alive for a very long time.” Yet it felt distant now. Still raw and lashing but as if the scab life kept scraping away at had finally toughened enough to hold true.

“Is the pain all that still keeps you going?”

I tipped my head back, resting it on his warm chest. I could stay here forever, though I suspected I’d have to creep away soon. This closeness disconcerted me, and I couldn’t allow myself to like it too much. “Now, I feel hope.”

“I’d swallow that too if you’d let me.”

We stayed there, silent but together for a very long time. The moon slid lower, and clouds obscured the stars.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night?” I finally said, easing out of his embrace I was growing much too comfortable with.

“Tomorrow night.” His teeth flashed brightly in the night. “Let me help you down into the room.”

“I can do it. As you said, I’ve taken on bigger challenges before. Stay up here. Enjoy this place in the way you always have.” Without me.

What I’d taken from him was borrowed. It could never belong to me, so I was giving it back.

I didn’t wait for him to agree or insist he would help me. I scooted down the roof and turned to lay on my belly, stretching my leg out to the first jutting stone.

I didn’t look back up as I made my way below the roof, dangling from the last stone and smacking my heel onto the ledge. I climbed into the window, and when I heard him starting to follow, I ran across the stone room and took the stairs in a whirl.

Reaching the bottom, I slammed out into the hall lit only by the muted light from the moon. They didn’t dust up here often, and it showed in the windows where only murky light could claw its way through.

Rushing through the stone hallway, my heartbeat thrummed in my ears. I turned a corner but came to a stop, frowning at a shimmering spot farther ahead, hovering in the air like a muted mass of light. It darkened, flickering with tiny bolts of lightning and coalesced into something about the length of my forearm and gleaming on one end.

A dagger erupted from the mass.

It blasted down the hall, shooting toward me, aiming for my heart.