Heat of the Everflame (The Kindred’s Curse Saga #3)

Chapter 45

Chapter

Forty-Five

“ L et her sleep.”

A voice stirred me from my dreams. Dreams of battlefields and swords and trees of fire. Dreams of blue-grey eyes and glowing gold hearts.

“We should wake her up.”

A different voice. Lily’s voice.

She was sniffling.

No— sobbing .

“She’s going to be furious we didn’t wake her when it happened.”

Eleanor’s voice this time. She was huddled behind me, her hand draped over my hip.

But there was a second hand, broad and strong, burrowed beneath my hair and resting flush at the back of my neck.

I felt Luther’s chest beneath me, his skin markedly cooler than I remembered. I listened for a heartbeat, but all I could hear was Lily’s weeping, all I could feel was her shuddering body.

“She hasn’t slept in two days.” Alixe’s voice. “She’ll find out eventually. Let her rest while she still can.”

Dread sank like a stone in my chest. I cracked my eyes open a sliver to see Taran curled up at the foot of the bed, sleeping. Alixe stood just beyond, rubbing her face, while Zalaric and Teller dozed in chairs behind her.

My focus slowly rose to Lily. She was sitting up, staring at Luther, an ocean of tears flowing down her reddened cheeks.

I slammed my lids closed. I couldn’t bear to see the truth yet. I needed a little longer here, safe in the darkness of my denial.

“She needs to know,” Lily said. “We have to wake her.”

“She’s already awake.”

That voice...

That voice.

I knew that voice. I felt that voice. It rumbled beneath my cheek, its timbre coating my skin like a warm, heavy blanket.

I sucked in sharply. The hand on me twitched, then its thumb stroked a slow line down my neck.

My eyes shot open—and I saw skin. A broad expanse of it, bronzed and olive-hued and marked with the ridges of a long-healed scar.

A scar... and nothing else.

My gaze locked with Lily’s—and through her tears, she smiled .

Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, I lifted my head and turned it upward. A pair of bright, pale eyes were waiting for me, their corners crinkled with joy.

“Hello, beautiful.”

I bolted upright, nearly knocking Eleanor off the bed in the process. The poisoned veins had receded from his head and limbs entirely. Their reach now barely touched the base of his ribs—and perhaps I was delusional in my shock, but I swore I could see them shrinking .

Even his wound was in far better shape. There was no more blood or poisonous ooze. The skin around it was a light, healing pink, and the beginnings of a scab had already begun to form.

I pressed my palms to his chest and let my magic rush into him. His godhood leapt to meet me immediately, its song trilling with elation. The cage around his heart had vanished, and the traces of toxin still inside him now seemed to cower from my reach. His ravaged organs mended where my magic soothed over them—but this time, the damage didn’t return.

Luther let out a quiet, contented grunt, then gave me a knowing look. “Fortos magic?”

All I could do was nod.

Pride gleamed in his eyes. “Careful with my scars. I’ve grown fond of them, thanks to you.”

I pulled back my magic before it reached his skin and leaned in close as I studied him. Color had returned to his cheeks, and the sunken hollows had faded from beneath his eyes. He looked healthy, happy, alive .

“Impossible,” I breathed.

His smile could have lit the realm. “Around you, ‘impossible’ seems merely a suggestion.”

“Luther,” I choked out, my voice hushed for fear that a joy too loud might shatter this precious illusion. My arms trembled, and I collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

He pulled me in and kissed my temple. “I couldn’t leave my Queen when she needed me.”

Lily clutched my hand, and we both dissolved into weepy, wailing messes. Luther’s chest bounced beneath us as he chuckled at our pitiful states, the sound of it filling me with a bliss I never thought I’d feel again.

“Holy sh—Lu? Are you...?” Taran sat up, gawking at Luther’s chest. “Lumnos’s tits, you’re alive.”

“ Taran ,” Luther scolded, though it lost its punch as his laughter grew louder.

Taran dove forward and tumbled on top of us. His arms spread wide around Lily and Eleanor and squeezed the four of us into a crushing embrace. Though Luther stifled a grunt from the pressure on his wound, he was beaming from ear to ear.

Around us, the others began to wake. Alixe grinned, tears shining on her cheeks. Zalaric rolled his eyes dramatically at Taran’s antics, though relief was evident on his delicate features. Teller sat forward, flashing me a tight half-smile before turning his focus to Lily, where his face warmed considerably.

Even Remis and Avana came to join us, their arms hooked on each other’s waists. Avana looked tired—simply ready for the ordeal to be over, I suspected—while Remis watched his son with a guarded expression.

Excited chatter continued around us, and I didn’t hear a word of it. I kept my face buried in his neck and let the world around us fall away. I needed to feel his skin, hear his heartbeat, smell the cedar musk of his scent. I needed to be convinced this was real and not a cruel hallucination that might end at any moment.

While Luther did his best to join in the conversation, I could tell he needed the same. I felt it in the way his face stayed turned to mine, his soft sigh each time he breathed me in. The way his hand roamed over my back, always gripping, always pressing harder, my body never close enough.

“I’m here,” he murmured in my ear. “I’m alive.”

It felt as much like a question as a declaration, so I laid my palm over his heart and nodded.

He threw his head back and gazed at the ceiling. “Thank you, Blessed Mother. You have given me yet another gift. I will not waste it.”

I tensed at his reverence, remembering what happened in his chambers. He noticed and gave me a questioning glance that I pretended not to see.

I forced myself to sit up and gently pushed at Taran’s shoulder. “You’re crushing my patient.”

With obvious reluctance, Taran shifted to the end of the bed. He brushed the back of his hand over his cheeks and cleared his throat, trying— badly —to pretend he hadn’t been messily weeping.

“What happened?” he asked me. “When we came back, we thought it was the end.”

“So did I,” I admitted.

“The vial you gave him,” Remis said, “I remember now—it was the Arboros gift from your ball?” I nodded, and his eyes darkened. “You were right. Their Queen has been keeping a cure to herself.”

“That’s what healed me?” Luther asked.

I stared down at my hand, still crusted with a glove of dried blood. The gash I’d cut on my palm was nearly healed, only visible by a shiny pink line. A faint pressure seemed to tingle around my wrist, though I was so overwhelmed, I might only have imagined it.

“I think so,” I said quietly. Luther took my hand, his curious expression seeming to sense there was more I wasn’t ready to say.

“You cured three godstone wounds,” Taran said. “You’re going to go down as the best healer in Emarion. Take that, Fortos.”

The others burst into laughter and discussion of the happy ending we’d somehow scraped out, but my gaze returned to my crimson-stained hand.

To heal godstone once was a rare stroke of fortune. To heal it twice was a blessing from the divine. To do it three times...

That felt like an imbalance I would be called to repay.

I raised Luther’s hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. It didn’t matter now. I’d offered up my soul for his, and I had no regrets.

If the gods came calling, I’d be ready to answer.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. My fussing reached never-before-seen levels as I forced Luther to eat and drink until he begged me to relent.

He and his father had a stilted conversation that the rest of us tried our best to pretend we weren’t eavesdropping on. They clasped wrists and exchanged amicable nods, which was more than Avana offered before they both said their goodbyes and left.

We all crowded into my bed around Luther, laughing and talking and retelling stories of the past few weeks. After sending Perthe away for some well-deserved rest, I revealed the same truths I’d admitted in Umbros—about my time in the Guardians, the so-called prophecy, and what I’d learned about my mother and birth father. Eleanor and Lily took it surprisingly well, but Teller’s mood soured with every new revelation. Soon I could barely get him to look me in the eyes.

Here in Lumnos, Remis had never officially announced I was missing, though the truth had quickly leaked. After news broke of my mother’s capture and her role in the island attack, speculation had exploded about where I was and why.

My brother had taken the brunt of the gossip, to the point his school was now pressuring him to end his final year early. I swore to him I wouldn’t let that happen, but he merely shrugged and mumbled something about making the decision himself.

The others took right to Zalaric, as I knew they would. Eleanor squealed with delight when I proposed she take him shopping for whatever he needed, and Teller and Lily promised to find him a palace room of his own, an offer Taran quietly pouted over.

Though Zalaric’s confident facade was composed as always, I sensed he was relieved to be so welcomed, while also worried for the half-mortals he’d left behind in Umbros—a concern I shared.

Under my protests and heavy teasing from Taran, I grudgingly agreed to leave Luther’s side for a quick bath and fresh clothes. Just as reluctantly, Luther agreed to the same, though with his body still weak, Taran insisted on “helping.” The rest of us crowded with our ears to the washroom door and laughed until we cried at the shouted obscenities and promises of payback that followed.

When the sun’s light disappeared from the sky, Eleanor proposed we arrange an extravagant dinner feast. Luther instantly made a show of yawning.

“I think my patient needs rest,” I said quickly, catching his grateful wink. “Why don’t we save the rest of the celebrations until he’s fully healed?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll go to the kitchens and have some platters brought up for us instead.”

Luther slumped his head back on the freshly changed linens and let his eyes droop. “That’s kind, cousin, but I’m not all that hungry.”

Eleanor frowned. “Then I could fetch some—”

He interrupted her with another loud yawn.

“I think the Prince is politely suggesting we all go elsewhere,” Zalaric said, looking amused. “Well... almost all of us.”

“Oh.” Eleanor looked between Luther and me, her eyebrows slowly rising. “ Oh. ” She jumped to her feet. “I’m exhausted. Aren’t you all exhausted? Some sleep would do us all good, don’t you think?”

“I agree,” Luther rumbled.

She eagerly herded everyone toward the door. Lily squirmed free to steal a hug from her brother. Luther clutched her tight, kissing her forehead before whispering something in her ear that made her glance at Teller and flush bright red. She scurried off and slipped her hand into Teller’s as they left.

Taran jogged over and wrapped me in his strong arms. “Take care of him, Queenie.”

“I will,” I promised.

“And tell him how you feel,” he whispered with a pointed look.

I poked him in the ribs, nodding toward Zalaric. “Just as soon as you tell him how you feel.”

He blinked innocently. “I don’t have a clue what you mean.”

I rolled my eyes, then a wicked smirk grew on my lips. “You know, being thrust into a new world like this, Zalaric is bound to find everything hard .”

Taran’s eyes narrowed.

“All this tension could make him really stiff and worked up .”

He groaned and turned away. “I’m leaving.”

“Make sure you help him find a way to relea —”

“Goodnight,” he yelled. “Take care, Lu. If anything swells up, just ask Diem to give it a nice long rub.”

“ Taran ,” Luther growled.

The sound of laughter rang out as the door snapped shut.

Luther threw the quilts off his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grunting with discomfort.

“Wait—no,” I protested, running to stop him. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to ease him back, but he pushed forward, wobbling as he rose to his feet. “What are you doing? Luther, stop—you need to rest.”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, and I’m not going to be lying on my back when I do it.” He held on to me as his legs steadied, then lifted his eyes to mine.

A tender, perfect silence passed between us. He brushed my hair over my shoulder and cupped a hand behind my neck. The other slid low on my back, drawing our bodies together until the calming cadence of his heart purred against my chest.

He leaned in, and my eyelids fluttered closed at the graze of his lips. I arched my neck up to meet him, but he hesitated just beyond my reach.

“Look at me,” he said.

When I did, my breath caught. The crystal blue of his irises was more vibrant than ever. It was as if the godstone’s defeat had also destroyed some deep-rooted veil that had kept him muted and withdrawn all his life. Now, the light in him blazed with wild abandon, not a wisp of shadow in sight.

“I love you, Diem Bellator.”

His smile stayed on his lips as his mouth fell to mine. Even as the kiss deepened with passion, I failed spectacularly at withholding a grin of my own.

Happiness consumed me, overwhelmed me, restored me. It flourished and bloomed, filling the dark fractures in my broken soul and welding them back together with gold. The joy filled me near to bursting, and a blissful laugh bubbled out by surprise.

“That is my favorite sound,” he said with a reverent sigh. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear it again.”

“If you had died, I’m not sure anyone would have ever heard it again.”

He kissed me once more, sweetly, tenderly.

“I heard you. I couldn’t move or respond, but I heard everything you said.”

I cringed. “Everything?”

He smiled. “Everything. And Taran was right—I did know how you felt.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, then brushed his lips along my jaw to my ear. “Though I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”

Another laugh broke free. I looped my arms around his neck and beamed. “I love you too, Luther Corbois. But I’ll only keep loving you if you swear never to almost die on me again.”

He hauled me up against him and into the air, trying his best to steal kisses between our unstoppable grins and laughter. Every bit of me felt illuminated with the brightest, most exquisite delight.

The path ahead for us would be anything but easy, and I’d be lying if I said all my misgivings about commitment were gone. But if this was a cliff, we were jumping off together, hand-in-hand, ready to face our fates as one.

Though he tried to stifle it, I spied flickers of pain behind his smile. “Back in bed,” I scolded and tried to push him off. He resisted, his hold on me a vice. “ Luther .”

“You first.” He spun us around together and tossed me on my back onto the mattress, then wedged himself between my legs. He stared down at me, desire flooding his hungry gaze. “I could get used to this view.”

My mouth went dry. I reached up and tugged at the waist of his loose linen trousers until he leaned over me, his elbows propped beside my head. I dragged my teeth slowly over my lower lip, and his nostrils flared. He leaned down, eyes closing.

I clamped a hand to his chest. “Not unless you let that wound heal, you won’t.”

He glared, and I smirked. I pushed him off, and he rolled onto his back with a scowl, then hooked an arm beneath me and tugged me into his side. I beamed at my victory and pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek.

“Say it again,” he rumbled.

“I love you.”

His eyes closed, his mouth twitching in a losing fight not to smile.

“I didn’t say it just because you were dying, you know. I was trying to tell you that night in Umbros.”

“I know. What you said to me that night...” He looked at me, his expression solemn. “I have much to apologize for, Diem. I lost my temper. I said callous, careless things. I made you doubt how I feel about you. The fact you were still willing to fight for me through it all...” He traced the curve of my jaw. “It means more to me than you could ever know.”

I leaned up and stole another kiss. “Well I do love a good fight.”

His lips quirked up again. “For what it’s worth, I think I’ve been in love with you since I tried to stop you from running into a burning building and you threatened to cut off my ‘ precious royal balls. ’”

I grinned proudly. “One of these days you’ll stop trying to keep me out of danger.”

“Unlikely,” he muttered. “I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care for you. When I think of something happening to you, I can barely breathe. It’s a constant war against my instincts to lock you up somewhere safe, where no one can ever hurt you. But a phoenix isn’t meant to be caged—it’s meant to fly.” He let out a long sigh. “I will never stop trying to protect you, but I know I can’t keep you from danger, either. All I ask is that you don’t do it alone. From now on, we face it together.”

“Agreed.”

“You promise?”

I smiled. “I promise.” My eyebrows raised. “So if you heard everything while you were unconscious... you must have heard what I said to your father.”

“I did.” He chuckled darkly. “And I intend to take you up on your offer for a round two.”

“Much as I despise Remis, I have to admit, he never left your side. He was worried about you.”

Luther was quiet for a long time. Theirs was no simple family feud. His mother’s murder was a chasm they might never cross. “My father knows what you mean to me. If he wants my forgiveness, he can start to earn it by supporting you.”

“He did withhold his vote to condemn my mother. I owe him a debt for that, even if it was for his own self-preservation.”

“Your mother...” Luther frowned. “If Yrselle changes her vote...”

“I know. And even if she doesn’t, Montios and Arboros still could. I have to go get her, Luther. Tomorrow.”

He shifted his body toward me. “Let me go alone instead.”

“Luther, we just agreed—”

“This isn’t about protecting you, this is about strategy. If the Crowns see you breaking her out, they’ll declare war on Lumnos. If it’s only me, you can tell them I acted on my own. Declare me a traitor to save face.”

I shook my head hard. “You’re still wounded.”

“You can heal me.”

“I’m not closing your wound until every drop of toxin is gone. I won’t risk trapping it inside you. Besides, in Fortos, you won’t have your magic.”

“You saw how our magic was returning in Ignios and Umbros. I’ll make sure your mother is safe, then I’ll wait until my magic returns to strike.”

“And if it disappears in the middle of the attack? I just got you back from certain death, I’m not sending you right back into it with an injured body and no magic.”

Muscles twitched along his jaw, sending my heart fluttering. His exasperation was so familiar, so strangely comforting. We might never stop arguing over which of our lives to put in danger, but at least we still had lives to risk.

I sighed heavily. “I can’t stay behind. I need to make sure she’s even still alive before I risk taking on Fortos, and only a Crown has access to see her. If— if —the godstone toxin is gone by tomorrow afternoon—”

“It will be.”

“—and if your body isn’t still weak—”

“It won’t be.” I scowled, and he smiled, taking my face in his hands and pulling me closer. “I’ll be ready, my Queen.”

He kissed me before I could respond, his lips and tongue moving with greedy resolve, and my protests turned fuzzy as the taste of him clouded my focus. Large, firm hands slid down the column of my throat and roamed my chest, kneading my breasts through the thin silk dress I’d thrown on after my bath. Between Luther’s warmth and the heat each touch sent blazing through me, my body felt on fire, the flimsy fabric begging to be peeled away—and Luther’s hands seemed more than happy to oblige.

His mouth dropped to the curve of my neck, and I lost myself in the feel of his skin against mine. Hands found their way beneath clothing—his, mine—and bodies writhed, limbs tangling impatiently.

When my own heady whimper pulled me out of my daze, my legs were wrapped around him, his powerful form blanketing me from above.

“Luther,” I gasped out. “You need rest.”

“I need you. ”

“You need— ah .” My back arched as his mouth moved lower. Much lower.

“Months,” he murmured, his voice vibrating against my skin. “Months, I have waited. Imagining what you would feel like. What you would taste like.” He nipped at me until I sucked in a breath, then licked the sting away.

My treacherous hands abandoned me to play his game, clawing at his shoulders and weaving into his hair.

“We should stop,” I insisted, unconvincing even to my own ears. “This is bad for your wounds.”

“I beg to differ. The best healer in Emarion once told me skin contact with a loved one has powerful healing effects.” He laid his cheek against my inner thigh and glanced up with a sinful smile. “I’m just getting the most from my medicine.”

I laughed breathily and pulled at the bedsheets, trying feebly to drag myself away. “I have to get out of here,” I teased. “You’re sleeping alone tonight.”

He growled and pinned me with his forearm. “You would abandon your patient in his time of need?”

“Fine,” I said, sighing, and his eyes shone with triumph. “But if you won’t rest tonight, you’re resting tomorrow—”

“Deal.”

“—which means I’m going to Fortos alone.”

He froze. Looked up. Narrowed his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

He crawled forward and propped himself up above me. I held his stare, jaw set, letting him see just how serious I was. As badly as I wanted him, as deeply as I, too, craved that intimacy we’d been chasing for so long, there were things I couldn’t ignore.

A slight paleness in his lips. The faintest shake in his arm when he held up his weight. The flinches he tried to hide when his hips scraped against the sheets.

He was healing—but he was not healed. And until he was, a part of me would remain that scared, devastated woman who had believed she was kissing him goodbye for the final time.

I reached up to brush his cheek, my voice turning small as my throat pulled tight. “I almost lost you. If your body relapses...”

He kissed the inside of my wrist and sank to the bed at my side. “It won’t. I’ll rest.” He took my hand and placed it against his heart, somehow knowing its strong beat would soothe me. “But only if you stay. I’ll get no sleep without you at my side.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “And you’ll behave?”

He smiled. “I’ll behave. If you can’t enjoy yourself freely tonight, neither can I.”

“Soon.” I leaned up to kiss his cheek, then nipped softly at his ear. “Very, very soon.”

He let out a throaty rumble.

Begrudgingly, I pulled myself out of his arms and dragged myself to my feet. “Get comfortable while I change for bed.”

I padded across the room and stoked the fire, adding a touch of Ignios flame to keep it burning throughout the night, then snuck out to the balcony. Sorae sleepily raised her head in greeting.

I knelt at her side and leaned up against her. She curled a wing around me to protect me from the brisk night air.

I took her muzzle and pressed a kiss to the top. “You saved him. You saved us all, really.”

She gave a high-pitched whirr, and a wave of affection flowed across the bond.

“You were incredible up there. The Umbros gryvern had nothing on you. It’s too bad you weren’t there when I met the Ignios gryvern. I bet you could take him, too.”

Her golden eyes dimmed as she laid her head in my lap.

I frowned, feeling a flicker of her sadness. “You don’t like the idea of fighting him, do you?” Smoke floated from her nostrils in a soft whimper. “Did you know him once? Are you siblings, like the Kindred were?”

Her wing shuddered against me.

“Not siblings, then. Friends?” I cocked my head. “ More than friends?”

She arched her head to the sky and let loose a low, mournful howl so thick with emotion it brought tears to my eyes.

“Oh, Sorae,” I whispered. “The Kindred separated you thousands of years ago, and you still care for him, even after all this time?”

Sorrow soaked the bond in answer. She slumped her head on the ground, her wings falling limp at her sides. I squeezed my arms around her and stroked a hand down her back.

“No wonder Tybold’s so cranky. He must miss you, too.” I sat up and looked at her. “He saved me in Ignios, you know. He worked around his King’s orders to protect me and Luther.”

Sorae’s head swung out toward the balcony’s edge. Her ochre gaze stared into the distance—over the trees and beyond the sea, toward a land of desert and fire.

I glared at the golden chain at her neck, the symbol of her forced servitude to my Crown. I wished there was some way I could see them reunited, but I was hardly a welcome guest in Ignios now. Even if I sent Sorae alone, the King might order his gryvern to kill her on sight.

“I’ll find a way,” I vowed. “You and Tybold saved me and the man I love. I don’t know how, but we’ll find some way to repay the favor.”

She nuzzled me lightly, though it was half-hearted and full of defeat. She knew I had no power to terminate the gryvern bonds, even our own. Perhaps past Crowns had made her similar promises, and she’d learned to stop hoping for a change of fate.

Lucky for her, I was a Bellator, and a stubborn one at that. Her doubt did not dissuade me. It fueled me.

I dropped a kiss on her forehead and gave her a sympathetic hug, then returned to the bedchamber and walked to my wardrobe. I swung its door open, blocking myself from Luther’s view.

“Sorae says you’re welcome for saving your life,” I called out. “But next time she would prefer you not bleed all over her pretty wings.”

“Tell her I’ll make it up to her with all the apples she can eat.”

A trill rang out from the terrace.

“Be careful,” I said dryly. “I’m not sure there are enough apples in Emarion to fulfill that promise.”

I began to strip off my clothes. The key to the Umbros Queen’s library fell from where I’d tucked it in my bandeau and hit the ground with a clink. Doubt I’ll ever be using that again , I thought tartly as I snatched it up and tossed it to the back of my wardrobe.

“Also,” I added, smirking to myself, “I made Sorae a promise on our behalf. She’s in love with Tybold, the Ignios gryvern. We’re going to reunite them.”

“She... Tybold... What? ”

I peeked around the door. “They love each other, just like us. We’re going to free them so they can be together.”

He threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Why am I not surprised? You’ve never met a person or creature you didn’t want to help.”

My nose wrinkled. “That’s not true. There’s lots of people I have no desire to help.”

“No? You didn’t save Vance’s life from Sorae’s fire back in Arboros?”

I scowled. “It doesn’t count if I regret it now.”

“You didn’t ask us to spare all the mortals who were trying to kill you at the Guardian camp?”

“They were mortals .”

“You didn’t convince me to show mercy to the Ignios King?”

“His gryvern—”

“You saved Zalaric after he betrayed us. You’re nudging me to make peace with my father. You’ve been far kinder to Aemonn than he deserves. Face it, Your Majesty. You’re a good person.”

“Lies,” I hissed. “Take it back.”

“Never.” He lounged against the pillows and crossed his arms behind his head with a smug grin.

A horribly wonderful idea took root. I tucked back out of sight and peeled off the last of my lacy undergarments, then flung them over the wardrobe toward the bed. Seconds later, I grinned wide at Luther’s groan.

“Problem, Prince?” I asked sweetly, leaning back just enough to reveal the outer curves of my naked body.

“This is cruel. This is torture .”

You have no idea, Corbois , I thought wickedly.

I hid once more and dug around in the drawers until I found a garment I’d spotted weeks ago. I quickly put it on, then shook out my hair until it spilled over my shoulders. As I started to close the door, I paused, eying the medallion he’d gifted me shining from its velvet box. I clasped it around my neck and adjusted it until it hung low on my chest, resting between the curve of my breasts.

The wardrobe door closed with a loud slam.

“I’m ready to sleep,” I announced.

I second guessed my evil plan as Luther’s expression went blank. His soul seemed to leave his body, then return, then leave again.

“I take it back,” he rasped. “You’re a ruthless Queen. Savage. Merciless in all things.”

I strode toward him, hips swaying and a hand raking through my hair. “Much better.”

He sat up straight as I approached the bed. “You’re sleeping in that? ”

I shrugged and looked down at myself. I’d chosen the tiniest wisp of fabric in my possession. It was little more than scraps held together by strings, carefully arranged to hide as little as possible.

I toyed with the end of a strategically tied bow. “If it’s a problem, I’m happy to change.”

“Don’t you dare,” he growled.

I bit hard on my lip to hold back my grin. “You were right, skin contact can have a healing effect. And I do want you to heal...” I kneeled on the end of the bed and crawled toward him. “So I’m giving you all the medicine you can safely take.”

He held out an arm, and I happily slipped into it, wedging myself close against his side.

“I feel better already,” he murmured.

His hands began to roam. His rough touch slid eagerly over my back, my thigh, my shoulders, my ass. He hooked my thigh over his leg, sliding me over until I lay nearly on top of him.

“You swore to behave,” I scolded, adjusting to avoid his wound.

“That promise was made under duress.” He glowered, but there was no real protest in it. His hands were hungry yet careful, boldly pushing the bounds but always stopping short of too far . If Luther was anything, he was a man of his word.

“I suppose I deserve this for what I did in the Umbros inn,” he said.

“I quite liked what you did in the Umbros inn.” I arched my back at the memory, rolling my hips against his thigh. He closed his eyes and groaned. “And this isn’t punishment. It’s making sure we can do more than just touch for many nights to come.”

His wandering hands slowed, then stopped, then curved around me and held me tight. “Many nights,” he agreed. “All the nights I ever have—they all belong to you.”

Our eyes met and we shared a smile, and my love for him felt as wide and deep as the Sacred Sea.

“Do you see how loved you are?” I asked. “Look at everyone who gathered at your side today. All those people who would have been crushed by your loss. You mean so much to so many people.”

He tucked my hair back as his expression turned thoughtful. “It was you who brought us all together. With your support, Eleanor has become a true leader. She kept me sane while you were gone. She always stayed positive and reminded us you were too much of a fighter not to survive. She’s more confident than I’ve ever seen her. Alixe, too—you saw in her immediately what I should have seen years ago. And my sister, standing up to Father about her betrothal and showing interest in becoming a healer. She would never have done that without your encouragement. Even Taran... if you can believe it, he’s drinking less than he ever has.”

I blinked. “He used to drink more? ”

Luther smiled ruefully. “He used to say his only days well-spent were the days he was too drunk to remember. Serving you is the first time I’ve ever seen him take his role seriously.”

His eyes dropped to the pendant at my neck. He took it in his hand, flipping it back and forth between the side marked by a phoenix, the House Corbois sigil, and the side with the Bellator initial he’d added just for me.

“You gave us something to believe in, a reason to feel like we’re not in this alone,” he said, “We were always related—but you made us family.”

Tears filled my eyes. He wrapped me in his arms, and we kissed until our lips were swollen and our hearts were full. We confessed our fears for what was to come, murmured between words of endearment and vows of loyalty. We reveled in our tiny pocket of peace, all the while knowing how brief it might be.

After hours of kissing and laughter and apologies, our eyes and words grew too heavy to hold. With my head on his chest and my hand on his heart, we fell together into sleep.

Until now, the war had been chasing us, pulling us into its battles unwilling. Tomorrow, we would finally fight back.

Tomorrow, our war would begin.