Warrior of the Drowned Empire (Drowned Empire #6)

CHAPTER THREE

LYRIANA

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I paced back and forth across the cave as Morgana’s words repeated in my mind. They’d been repeating in my head for the past three days. Ever since we escaped the Allurian Pass, ever since she betrayed us. Since Aemon betrayed us.

Since the whole fucking Empire betrayed us.

I turned before I reached the wall, just barely tempering my urge to slam my fist into it. My breathing was uneven, my shadow shivering in the faint torchlight as I walked. I continued on in my loop, completely possessed, utterly unable to stop, unable to slow my mind.

I passed Meera, still asleep and curled up on the floor, her frail body inside my cloak. She was also wearing my pajamas. There were few blankets in this cave—it wasn’t one Rhyan had inhabited during his exile—but he’d been slowly scavenging for supplies. Every day he traveled through the countryside to patrol and spy, and every time he returned, he brought back the items we so desperately needed to survive. We had only a few belongings with us to start, the things Rhyan had initially packed for us when we left Bamaria. But Meera had had nothing beyond what I’d given to her. Thankfully, Rhyan was slowly building a soturion uniform for her to wear and stay warm in.

I turned again, pacing down a short corridor that led away from her makeshift bed. It also took me away from the passage leading to the small corner Rhyan and I had claimed as our sleeping space.

After reaching the end of the cavern, I turned and found myself at my sister’s side again. I paused, only long enough to hear her breathe, long enough to make sure she was still here. That she was still alive. Still safe.

Unlike Jules.

I suppressed a groan of frustration, not wanting to wake Meera, and began retracing my route again. Circling around, moving back and forth, over and over again. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t tire my mind. I kept rushing through every small moment I’d overlooked these last two years, every lie I’d believed.

And every truth I’d been too afraid to face.

Before I’d killed that fucking bastard Brockton Kormac for assaulting me, he’d said Jules was alive. Said he’d … said he’d raped her. Recently. He said she’d survived Lethea. That she’d survived for years. And some part of my soul had believed him. I knew Godsdamned-well he was trying to manipulate me, trying to stay alive. Rhyan had slain his three lackeys, and Brockton was next. We all knew at that moment he was as good as dead. Rhyan had sworn Brockton would die for touching me, and Rhyan never broke an oath. Brockton knew that, and he knew it didn’t matter if his death came by Rhyan’s hand or mine. Because the moment Rhyan had sworn, there was no stopping the outcome. And yet, despite the obvious manipulation ... I understood in my soul that he wasn’t just saying those words. But I’d been too terrified to fully admit the truth, too scared of its consequences, too frightened of opening that door again. Of the fear.

Of the hope.

But when Morgana had said it— confirmed it … Gods.

Two fucking years! Two fucking years I’d thought Jules had been dead. It had nearly torn me apart. The only comfort I’d ever found in that time was in the knowledge that her suffering had ended. That her soul had been freed, even if we’d never been allowed to utter Ha Ka Mokan when she was mentioned. Not that she was ever mentioned.

And it was all a lie.

I gritted my teeth, the rage simmering inside my stomach was making me sick as the truth hit me again and again.

We’d never had permission to acknowledge her, to say the words she deserved to have spoken in her memory. We’d never even been able to properly discuss her. To grieve for her.

But Jules’s soul wasn’t freed. She wasn’t at peace.

And I was never going to be. Not until I got her back. Not until I made sure everyone who had ever hurt her had paid. In full.

The Emperor. The Imperator. The Bastardmaker …

Brockton had died too easily. Too quickly. I’d cried for him after—despite what he’d done to me. I felt guilty that night. Sorry even. I was going into shock over having taken my first life. At least, at having taken my first mortal life.

But now? Now if I could go back, I’d kill him again. And I’d do it slowly. Make it last. Make it painful. Tear him apart limb from limb. Remind him he was a worthless piece of gryphon-shit until he was a crying blubbering mess. I’d torture him until he’d lost all sense of himself. Until he was begging me for mercy, until he was crying out for the end.

But he was dead. And I had to focus on my immediate enemies.

Aemon, Bamaria’s Arkturion, the warlord known as the Ready. He was the man I’d thought of as an uncle, as a protector growing up. And he was the deadliest soturion in Lumeria: the reincarnation of Moriel. A God. But he was so much worse. He was also vorakh—he could read minds. He’d been reading my mind my entire life. He knew my thought patterns, my darkest secrets and fears—my strengths, my weaknesses. He knew exactly how to manipulate me. And somehow, he could control the monstrous akadim. He’d found a way to siphon their power, to increase his own strength. To allow them to touch me despite Asherah’s blood running through my veins. He was the reincarnation of the most evil of Gods to walk the Earth, one of the seven original Guardians. And he was the Goddess Asherah’s worst enemy.

My worst enemy.

As soon as Morgana, the reincarnation of Ereshya, handed him the indigo shard, the light of the Valalumir that Moriel had protected, he’d be unstoppable. He’d have more than just his soturion strength and an army of akadim behind him.

He’d have the power of a God. The power of a Guardian of the Valalumir.

The same power the immortal Afeya Mercurial wanted me to have.

I placed my hand on my chest, over the star between my breasts. It was a faint gold, barely noticeable unless I met another Guardian and their touch came too close to the Valalumir burning inside. It was part of the red light Asherah had guarded. The light Auriel had put inside her when he stole the Valalumir and fell to Earth.

But it was also my contract with Mercurial. I was bound to the immortal, forced to carry out his will in exchange for his silence about my relationship with Rhyan. His price: I was to claim my power, and then grant him a favor of his asking. Mercurial would come for us soon. Would offer instructions, would demand I retrieve the red shard, the shard which would unlock my true form. My true power. With the shard in my possession, I would be remade as Asherah.

I rolled the stave up and down my palm. My stave. Asherah’s stave. It was long and made of dark sun wood, unlike any I’d seen before. Starfire diamonds circled the top. After I’d found it in Asherah’s tomb—in my tomb—I’d used the indigo shard to restore it. And now I was not only a soturion, but also a mage.

And soon, I’d be a Goddess.

Soon I’d have to fight Aemon. Fight Moriel reborn.

But Jules … Jules was alive.

I choked back something raw and visceral, emanating from my soul, something between a sob and a scream, just thinking of what she had endured, of what she might still be enduring.

Flames from a nearby torch crackled, and a small spring in the cave was trickling, the sounds echoing against the walls. My aura flared and my skin heated despite the cave’s cold.

I closed my eyes, and I saw her. I saw Jules on the dais of Auriel’s Chamber in the Temple of Dawn more than two years ago. Saw the eternal flame casting red light over her body. Saw her hold her stave for the first time, and the last. I watched as she dropped it and succumbed to her vorakh—as she saw her first vision.

I could still see the fear in her eyes, feel the terror in her aura, and I remembered how I sat there—sat and did nothing. How I let Tristan hold me back and whisper that she had to die, that she was a monster. I didn’t save her. And I couldn’t stop her experiencing years of torture and suffering, alone.

I’d barely rescued Meera from a similar fate when she revealed her own vorakh.

Lying a few feet away, my eldest sister made a small noise, a moan of distress. I opened my eyes, watching as she turned over. Her body stilled, and within a few seconds, her breath evened from inside her small alcove. For some reason, she preferred that to being closer to the fire where Rhyan and I were. I was unsure of the full extent of the horrors she’d experienced in her captivity. She swore she’d just been hungry, uncomfortable, and scared of the akadim. Rhyan had checked her over for any open cuts and injuries, but she was already bandaged up, rather crudely. And she was thin. So, so thin. They’d starved her. Reversing that had been Rhyan’s main mission these last few days. The food he was bringing home to build her strength back up was working, but not fast enough.

I looked longingly down the corridor where he was fast asleep, tucked beneath his cloak in the dark. So close, but so far away.

Rhyan. My love. My best friend. My soulmate.

Gods, I just wanted to go to him. Run down the hall and crawl back beneath his cloak. I wanted to snuggle against him as his arms wrapped around me. I needed to feel his hand find its way to my belly, the way it always did when he was fast asleep. I wanted to feel his comforting weight around me, on me, beneath me. I wanted to inhale his scent. But I couldn’t go back there. Now that I had my magic, my aura was blasting my emotions everywhere without control. If my fidgeting didn’t wake him, the swirling turmoil of my energy would. And Rhyan needed rest. He’d used more energy these last few weeks than he ever had. He was constantly fighting, and using his vorakh to get us across the Empire. Within weeks he’d crossed hundreds of miles, all while holding me. He definitely didn’t need me disturbing him now. If anyone of us needed rest, it was him.

A hot wind pushed against me, hissing violently as it blew out several torches.

It took me a second to realize it wasn’t the wind. It was me. My aura. My emotions were out of control.

Fuck.

I ran for the mouth of the cave, my hands shaking as I crossed the protective wards. For a second, their magic hummed in my ears, vibrating with their strength. The wards had been the first spell I’d learned. I’d walked around the perimeter of the cave, my stave in hand with Meera by my side. She’d instructed me on exactly what pressure to apply with my fingers as I turned my wrist, helped me say the words with the right inflection, and focused my magic. I’d cast the spell twice. Partly to practice, partly because I didn’t trust our enemies not to find their way through our gates.

Outside, the gryphon we’d acquired from the Allurian Pass opened one eye to watch me, making soft growling sounds as his chest rose and fell. One enormous wing shifted as he scanned our surroundings, and with a huff, he returned to sleep.

I stepped forward onto one of the few patches of ground not covered in snow. The wind blew through my hair, biting my cheeks. The wards of the cave continued to hum. Not knowing what else to do, I picked up a rock beside my foot, and with a cry, I threw it at a tree, listening for the sound of the crash. Then I found another, and another. I kept throwing them, hot tears in my eyes, my body shaking with rage.

“Lyr?” Rhyan’s voice came from inside my shirt. A small blue light emanated from the vadati stone I wore on a necklace. “Lyr, where are you?” There was obvious worry in his voice.

I picked up another rock, still too angry to reply. Too angry to even care that snow was slipping between my toes.

The light from the stone faded. My eyes readjusted to the dark. A minute passed. Then I felt him beside me.

“Partner?” Even in the faint hint of moonlight, I could see his face was pale with worry.

I let out a shaky breath, and threw the rock with all the force I had, nostrils flaring as I listened for the sound of the smash against the tree.

“What utterly horrendous crime has that rock done to offend you?” Rhyan deadpanned. When I remained silent, he said, “It doesn’t matter. I’m also mad at that rock.”

I pushed my hands through my hair, growling in anger. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s suffering at this very moment! And we’re hiding out here in this fucking cave!

He moved closer, his arms wrapping around my back. “Hey now. Are you all right?” he whispered. “Why are you awake?”

“She’s alive,” I said, my voice breaking. “And alone.”

“I know,” Rhyan said softly, somehow conveying a dozen emotions with two simple words. “I know.” He hugged me tighter, snaking his hand to my neck, his fingers in my hair. “We’re going to get her back. I swear.”

I stepped out of his hold, and shook my head, finally voicing the fear I’d had the last few days. “How do you know? What if … what if when Brockton said that if he died, she died … I mean, do you think …?”

“No,” he said definitively. “No. Lyr, I don’t. The scum just wanted to live. Nothing more. The Empire has,” his jaw tensed, “kept Jules alive for a reason. And whatever that is, it’s not tied to him. It doesn’t matter who his uncle is. If the Emperor decided something, then that’s it. Brockton’s not important enough to change things.” Rhyan took a tentative step toward me, his expression unsure. His bronzed curls were mussed with sleep, and there were dark circles under his eyes, his jawline darkened from a day without shaving. He ran his knuckle against my cheek. “As soon as we know more, as soon as we’re sure of where she is, we’ll go and we’ll get her.”

I shook my head.

“I just ...” My voice shook and I could feel my aura flare again with heat. I’d spent my whole life feeling the effects of everyone else’s, it was so strange now that I finally had my own.

“What?” he asked.

My throat tightened. “Nothing.”

He sighed deeply and looked me up and down with concern. “You’re not wearing shoes.”

“Neither are you,” I said.

“Aye. True, but I’m northern, and used to the cold weather,” he spoke with his exaggerated Glemarian accent, the lilts long and winding. He even puffed up his chest for effect. “My balls don’t love it,” he laughed, “but they’ll be just fine.” Then he shook his head, his expression somber. “You though?” he asked. “How are you keeping warm?”

“My aura,” I said. “It’s keeping me from freezing.” I bit my lip, looking him up and down. “I’m sorry you had to come out here. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I woke up on my own,” he said nonchalantly, but there seemed to be something else he wasn’t telling me. Something was wrong. Now his aura was swirling, agitated, full of raw emotion. The cold surrounding his body clashed against the heat in mine. He looked wearily at our surroundings, his right eyebrow lifting at our sleeping gryphon. His left eyebrow remained still. The scar his father had given him ran through it, ending at his cheek. He could barely move that part of his face, or show emotion through that eyebrow, though he wouldn’t admit it.

“Lyr, come inside,” he said.

“I can’t.” I shook my head. “I can’t sleep. I’ll just disturb you.”

“You won’t. And I don’t care if you do. I want you to disturb me. I like sleeping next to you.”

I bit my lip. “It’s probably for the best anyway that one of us is awake. I’ll stand guard.”

“There’s no need. Not with the protection spells you and Meera cast. And I patrolled the perimeter for miles. I checked twice. There’re no threats nearby. None that we won’t have ample warning for.” Rhyan’s hands ran up and down my arms. “You can rest. You should rest. We’re as safe here tonight as we can be.” He kissed my forehead. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.” My voice shook. “I’m furious.”

He frowned, one eyebrow furrowed. “Do you want me to find more rocks for you to murder?”

“Rhyan, please. I just … I …” I groaned, throwing my hands in my hair. I knew what he was trying to do. To joke, to tease, to calm me down. To keep me from drowning. Something he’d done dozens of times before. He always seemed to know how to reach me when I was like this. So often, he’d become my anchor in the storm. But it wasn’t going to work. Not this time. “I’m just—”

“You’re what, partner? You can tell me. You can tell me anything.”

“I’m just …” My throat tightened. “So. Fucking. Angry. And I don’t know what to do with myself—or what to do next.”

I did want to throw rocks. I wanted to smash things. To fight someone. To scream until my voice gave out. To plot the ways I’d find Jules, and bring the Empire to its knees. I wanted to cause pain and violence. To find those who’d hurt me, who’d hurt her and everyone I loved. I wanted to find the Imperator, the Emperor, the Bastardmaker, Aemon, even my Aunt Arianna, and tear them all apart, limb by limb.

Rhyan’s emerald green eyes searched mine. “Let me help you figure that out.”

“You can’t.” I shook my head, the backs of my eyes burning again.

He took my hand, his thumb rubbing small circles into my palm as I stared ahead, fuming. “I can try.” Rhyan’s aura began to wrap around me like a cocoon, the cold finally smothering the fire in mine.

“Rhyan, please! I feel like I’m about to burst. I’m so—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. There were no words for how I felt. For the anger. For the rage. My aura was pulsing with it, my body trembling.

For a long moment, Rhyan was silent, simply holding my hand. The muscles in his jaw tightened, as his eyes snapped to me, some decision having been made in his mind.

“Come to bed with me,” Rhyan said at last.

“I don’t want to sleep.”

“I didn’t say sleep ,” he said pointedly, his voice low, commanding. “I said bed .”

My stomach clenched. The fury that was boiling inside me now turned to molten lava rushing deep in my belly, sliding lower and lower.

“Come on. It’s freezing out here. Your aura may be hot, but your body won’t withstand the cold much longer. Now let’s go. You need this. I need this.” Rhyan threaded our fingers together, but still, I didn’t move. “Partner.” There was a warning in his voice. “This is a command from your apprentice. Bed. Now.” He started to walk backwards, pulling me with him, but I dug my heels into the ground.

“Meera,” I protested. We had a private section of the cave, our own little corner that had become our bedroom, but she wasn’t sleeping that far away, and there were no walls between us.

“I’m aware.” His good eyebrow lifted.

“So …” I gestured helplessly. I hadn’t exactly been in the mood since the Allurian Pass. But in the few moments our eyes had met in that specific way, the heat between us palpable, nothing had happened because we’d had no real privacy either.

“So,” he stepped in toward me, “that just means you’re going to have to be a very good girl,” his voice lowered, “and stay very quiet while I fuck you.”

My stomach tightened, my eyes meeting Rhyan’s emerald ones, blazing with a different kind of fire. He pulled me against him in one swift movement, his hands on my ass, lifting me up as my legs wrapped around him. Gods. He was already so hard and thick, I instinctively rocked my hips against him, listening with satisfaction as his breath caught.

His hands dug into me, attempting to keep me still as he made a noise low in his throat. Then he walked us inside, the wards humming and echoing with their protective magic.

“If I recall, you’re not exactly so quiet yourself,” I whispered, biting his earlobe. His cock twitched between us.

“I see. Challenging me are you?” he asked. “Bad idea.”

My stomach tugged, and a second later, my back hit our makeshift bed. I barely had time to place my stave on my travel bag before Rhyan was moving over me. His hands slid up my arms, pinning mine above my head as he thrust. My inner walls clenched and clamped down in anticipation of him inside me. Then he did it again, circling his hips, putting the exact amount of pressure my core needed to make me lose control.

His eyes met mine and he pushed even harder, grinding into me steadily as his hips rocked back and forth. I whimpered.

“Partner,” he whispered, shaking his head. “You’re already breaking the rules. Shhhh.” He covered my mouth with his lips, his tongue licking the seam and deepening our kiss.

I gasped. “What rules?” My heels dug into the ground as my hips lifted, rolling up to meet his.

Suddenly he stretched over me, flattening my body as a mischievous grin spread across his face. “I forgot, I’m the apprentice, and you are my novice. So, it’s my job to teach you. The rules are simple. Every noise you make, I stop. But if you’re quiet, I fuck you. Now, are you going to be my good girl, and remain silent?” he teased. “Or …” He reached beneath my sleep shirt—his shirt that I’d stolen—and cupped my breast. It was already heavy, my nipple hard as his thumb ran over it, making me buck. “Or am I going to have to stop?”

“You better not,” I hissed.

“Then you better follow the chain of command.” He pinched, and I gasped before his lips found mine again.

His tongue slid into my mouth, massaging mine before he trailed kisses down my cheek and jaw, practically biting down on my neck. All the while he continued palming my breast, his hips grinding as my arms remained trapped above my head.

I wrapped my legs around him, locking my ankles against his ass as he released me to draw my shirt up, his lips fastening over my bared nipple. Then he moved to the other. Pleasure rippled through me as his mouth wrapped around the peak, his tongue flicking before he sucked, while he continued rolling the first between his fingers.

I was trying desperately to stay quiet, but as he continued, the sensations began to build and build until it was too much, until I was overcome. “Gods!” I cried out before I could stop myself.

All at once, he pulled back, hovering over me. Not a single part of his body touched mine. I writhed, desperately trying to make contact with him again, to find more friction, more pleasure, but he held himself up. His arms were like an iron cage around my head.

He clicked his tongue in admonishment. “Partner.” Rhyan’s face was contorted into the stern expression he’d used for training me at the Soturion Academy. The cold, indifferent face of apprentice Rhyan. Though his eyes were the same as always, blazingly beautiful, and full of a desperate hungry desire, even as he shook his head. “You broke the rules. Now I have to stop.”

I glared up at him. “I don’t think you mean that.”

“Don’t you now?” His voice was dangerously low, a feral growl underlying every syllable. “What are you going to do about it?”

Without warning, I bucked, my legs kicking up, feet locking around him. He collapsed onto me as I trapped him within my arms and legs, flipping him onto his back.

“This,” I said, breathlessly, and straddled his hips. I’d landed right where I’d needed to be, my center lined up perfectly over his length which was straining against his sleep pants.

Rhyan’s groans of pleasure echoed against the cave walls.

My lips curled. “Now who’s breaking the rules?”

His chest heaved as he stared up at me, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Fuck. I keep forgetting how much stronger you are now.” He rolled his hips up, pushing into me, and I stifled a moan. “You ready for me, partner?” Rhyan reached for the waistband of my pants—his pants—and my underwear, tugging them forward. “Am I going to find you wet beneath these?”

“Why don’t you fuck me,” I growled, “and find out.”

I was soaked with my desire. I didn’t need anything else. Just him inside of me. I needed to feel every inch of him driving into me so I could forget, so I could feel something else. So this fury didn’t consume me.

With a grunt, he jerked my pants down my ass. The cold air from the cave hit my exposed skin as I frantically pulled at his waistband, pushing it below his hips. Rhyan’s cock sprang free, the head already beaded with the evidence of his desire. Wrapping my hand around him, I drew the moisture down his thick length.

“Lift your hips for me, Lyr,” he hissed.

I did, my weight on my knees as I hovered over him. Immediately he was tugging my pants and underwear down one leg. I reached back to help, managing to wiggle my right foot out. Rhyan pushed the remaining fabric to the side. My sex lined up with his, as he gripped my hips, sliding me against him.

“So fucking wet.” He gritted his teeth as I coated him with my arousal.

I leaned forward and whimpered into his mouth, the head of his cock pressed right to my core. My hand rested on his shoulder, as the other slid up and down his length between us. Then I lifted my hips higher, lining us up. Our eyes met and I gasped as he slid in, and in, and in.

My forehead pressed against his, sweat beading as my eyes squeezed shut. I stifled a groan, my hips slowly settling down onto his.

I gritted my teeth.

“Lyr? You okay?” he asked breathlessly, kissing the corner of my lips, even as he was struggling to remain still. “We haven’t done it this way yet.”

I hissed, but nodded, gently wiggling my hips, as my body adjusted. It almost felt like the first time he was inside me. But I could already feel him stretching me, my body remembering how to accommodate him. I sat up, rocking back and forth, stifling a whine. I was taking so much of him like this, taking him deeper than I ever had, but within seconds, I was moving over him.

“There you go,” he growled in approval. “There you fucking go.”

He thrust up into me, his eyes locked with mine as we found our rhythm, our hands clasping at my hips as I rode him, biting back every moan that tried to escape.

The pleasure began to tighten low in my belly almost instantly, the sensation of him inside me, against me, beneath me was overwhelming. I started panting, my body growing more and more desperate for release. It was too much. Too good. I bit down on my lip, whimpering helplessly as I rode a crest of pleasure and then another.

I was so close, so fucking close to the edge.

And then Rhyan wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me down against his chest, my sleep shirt riding up. I was immobile, helpless in his arms as he began pounding up into me, every part of him touching me exactly where I needed.

“Fuck,” he snarled in my ear. “Fuck, Lyr.”

I mewled desperately as another wave took me.

His hold on me tightened as I began to clench around him, on the verge of screaming.

“Are you going to come?” he growled. “Are you going to fucking come?”

“Yes … Yes!”

“Bite my shoulder,” he ordered.

I did, moaning into the salty taste of his skin, my eyes rolling back, toes curling, as my entire body tightened and then exploded with pleasure. Rhyan groaned and slowed his thrusts, still pushing into me as I rode the waves of my orgasm.

My eyes closed in bliss. A second later, he’d flipped me onto my back, and slid down my body, his mouth covering my core as he dragged what remained of my pants and underwear off.

“Need to taste you,” he said, voice guttural.

I cried out the second his tongue made contact.

“Shhhh.” He reached up, clamping his hand over my mouth, and then he slowly lowered his lips, my sex writhing helplessly and desperately against his lips and tongue.

I’d barely recovered from my first orgasm, and already I could feel another one rising, the pleasure cresting and ready to consume me.

Some unintelligible sound came out of my mouth, smothered by his hand, as he unleashed himself on me, licking and sucking, his fingers sliding in and out.

I kicked as I started coming again, my hips bucking, back arching off the ground. With a growl, I bit down on his palm. He didn’t relent, his fingers only pressed into my face with more intensity as I shuddered.

Without warning, he crawled back over me, and shoved his pants below his knees. Holding my legs up, he lined me up with him and thrust inside, sheathing himself with one push. This time, there was no warming up, no going slow. His eyes met mine, wild, and on the verge of losing control.

“Fuck.” His pace quickened, his rhythm leaving me breathless. I couldn’t do anything but lay there as he fucked me, watching him, and realizing how safe I felt, even like this. I loved him like this. Beautiful. Raw, and uncontained.

And mine.

His good eyebrow lifted suddenly, a cocky grin spreading across his face, his neck flushed with red. “One more?”

I whimpered again. I didn’t know if I could. He pressed his palm between my legs, adjusting his angle, and I barely stopped myself from crying out, shocked to feel myself tightening again. And then …

My eyes rolled back, my legs shaking, as Rhyan buried his face in my neck, cursing and growling as he shuddered, and shook, spilling into me.

I sucked in a breath, barely recovered as I tangled my fingers in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, holding him against me. My heart was still pounding, but Rhyan’s weight felt delicious over mine. I didn’t want him to move. Didn’t even want him to pull out. I loved being this close to him. Loved this new level of intimacy we’d added to our relationship.

I loved him.

He lifted his head, his lips finding mine kissing me with far more gentleness than he’d shown my core, his fingers now tangling in my hair, as our bodies remained joined. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

“You didn’t.” I kissed him back. “I’m good. Really good. Might be a touch sore tomorrow,” I said with a wink, and wrapped my legs back around him.

“Mmmm. I can apologize for that,” he teased.

I smiled. Last time he’d apologized , he’d left me a sweaty, boneless, whimpering mess on the floor. And I’d loved every second of it.

“Partner,” he purred contently. “So much for being quiet.”

I scoffed. “I hope you’re talking about yourself. Because I was following the rules,” I said primly.

He chuckled, playfully biting my chin, before peppering my neck with kisses. “I think I’m going to need,” he kissed my pulse point, “to explain,” he flicked his tongue, “the rules again.”

I laughed even as my toes curled again from his ministrations. “Well, you are my apprentice.”

“Not being a very good one tonight, am I?” He licked the spot he’d been kissing, then tugged my ear between his teeth. “I’m breaking all the rules now.”

A moment later his lips found mine again as I tried to pull him even closer to me. His familiar scent of pine and musk was heightened like this. My heart rate started to calm down to something in the range of not-quite-normal, but no longer imploding. Rhyan’s aura pulsed around us, forceful with feeling. The sensation reminded me of heavy snow falling at night, and a full moon making the frozen ground glitter. The rawness of his emotions was everywhere, and his heart was still pounding voraciously against mine.

“What woke you?” I asked at last.

He lifted himself up onto his elbows, messy curls falling over his forehead, a frown on his lips. I cupped his cheek, finger stroking the scar, and pushing his hair back. Leaning into my touch, he sighed, silent for a moment before he confessed, “A dream. I dreamt of being Auriel.”

I stiffened. “A memory?” He’d had two memories of himself as Auriel that I was aware of. One of me when I was Asherah, walking toward him on the beach before the Drowning. And then one at Asherah’s tomb. He’d hinted to Mercurial that more of his memories had returned, but he hadn’t shared those with me yet.

I hadn’t wanted to press. My own memories of being Asherah so far were vague. Nothing more than small flashes, like looking at my hand on a beach. Seeing myself running into battle, a sword in my hand. Auriel walking toward me. But just those impressions alone had felt overwhelming to me. Rhyan’s memories had been vividly intense, and much more detailed.

He nodded, his gaze distant. “The same one I had at the tomb.”

I stroked his back, silently acknowledging what he’d seen. He’d carried Asherah’s lifeless body to the top of Gryphon’s Mount, and constructed her tomb of the white seraphim.

Rhyan started to soften inside me, and gently, with a small noise between his lips, pulled himself out. Rolling onto his side, he slid his pants back up before reaching for me. His knee slid between my legs, as he hugged me against him, and drew his cloak up over us like a blanket.

“I remembered sealing the tomb again.” He spoke lightly, but he tightened his grip on me, his thumb stroking my skin, a line of worry between his brows. “And … I seemed to know where Ereshya’s shard was.”

“The orange shard?” The remains of the light Morgana would have once guarded. My heart thudded. “Where is it?”

There were seven lost shards of the Valalumir. No one had seen them in a thousand years—no one until the other night. When Rhyan was Auriel, he’d buried the indigo shard with Asherah in her tomb, hoping to prevent it from ever reuniting with Moriel. But now, thanks to me, it was with him again. As for the other six, Mercurial knew where the red shard was hidden. But that still meant the other five were lost and unaccounted for. Hava’s violet, Cassarya’s blue, Auriel’s green, Shiviel’s yellow. And Ereshya’s orange.

I’d been so focused on finding the red shard, I hadn’t considered the others. Where they might be, and who might be searching for them. I already knew. Aemon would be after them if he wasn’t already. Which meant that as impossible as it sounded, we had to find them first. We would have to finish what we started a thousand years ago. Restore and harness the power of the Valalumir. Before he did.

Rhyan sighed heavily. “I don’t … I mean … I don’t actually know where Ereshya’s shard is now. Auriel did, but his thoughts—my thoughts?—I don’t know.” He shook his head in frustration. “The information wasn’t in the dream. Just the knowing that, at least back then—I— he had that knowledge. Maybe more of my memories will return now.”

“Or Mercurial will tell us,” I said bitterly. He had plans for me and the red shard. As for the other five, he knew their location, or at least knew how to find out where they were. Afeya knew everything. It was just a question of if he wanted us to know, and what else he desired from us in exchange for such information. Knowing him, such knowledge would not be given freely, but only for him to secure another deal.

Rhyan’s hand swept over my hip, moving up my stomach between us. He pressed his palm between my breasts, to the place where my contract with the immortal had been sealed. “Has it been bothering you?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Dormant.”

Mercurial had said when it glowed, it was the light recognizing Guardians. He’d told me Morgana was Ereshya. And confirmed that Rhyan was Auriel, that Aemon was Moriel. But Meera had caused it to light up first. According to Mercurial, this made Meera a Guardian. But we didn’t know which one. Three Guardians, Hava, Cassarya, and Shiviel, were still unknown to us.

I couldn’t be sure, but I suspected she was either Hava or Cassarya reborn. The two Goddesses had stood alongside Auriel and Asherah. But Shiviel, Guardian of the Yellow Ray, had become Moriel’s Second in the War of Light. He’d become a formidable monster of his own.

It seemed likely that all seven of the Guardians had been reincarnated. Why else had so many of us found each other already? But that meant we needed to find the others before Aemon did. Right now, we were three against their two. But since they possessed a shard, our greater numbers weren’t working in our favor. Nothing would match Aemon’s strength but another shard, another piece of the Valalumir.

“We’re going to have to do what Mercurial says,” I said, placing my palm over my heart.

“Fuck him,” Rhyan growled.

“Rhyan, I have to claim the red shard to fight back. Between who I am, and my deal with Mercurial, I won’t have a choice. And you know it’s only a matter of time before Aemon goes after the other shards.” Saying it out loud seemed to make the truth of it more real.

Rhyan rubbed his hand up and down the length of my spine, the callused pads of his fingers soothing. “I know that’s what he wants. I can feel what’s coming. And I’ll be with you the whole time. Fighting beside you. But don’t worry about that tonight.” His forehead pressed against mine, his lips finding mine for a slow, languid kiss. When he pulled back, I couldn’t mistake the worry in his eyes.

“Rhyan?” I asked, reaching to smooth the crease of worry between his brows. “What is it?”

He shook his head, bringing my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm and sighed. “Gods. I hate this.”

“What? What else is wrong?” I asked. His gaze was distant, full of worry and hurt. “Rhyan?”

“My father.” His jaw tensed. “He’s returned to Seathorne.”

“What?”

The muscles in his jaw flexed as he nodded gravely. “We missed him on Gryphon’s Mount by only a few hours that night.”

“But that … that doesn’t make sense. He has to stay in Bamaria for Arianna’s consecration.” I shook my head desperately. “That’s not for another week.”

Rhyan sighed. “I didn’t want to upset you. But when news of Vrukshire reached Imperator Kormac, they moved up Arianna’s consecration—put the Laurel on her head before any other unrest could unfold. She’s Arkasva of Bamaria now. It’s been official for over a week.”

My stomach dropped. Hearing Arianna was Arkasva, that she’d taken the place of my father after she’d murdered him, left a sob rising inside me. She was on my list of enemies. And someone I was determined to hurt. But I pushed my fury down. There was nothing I could do about that. Not yet anyway. But Rhyan, here at this moment, he was in real danger.

I searched his eyes. “If your father’s back, we need to leave Glemaria. It’s not safe for you here.”

“It never was. We’ll leave as soon as we can. But we need a plan, need to figure out where we’re going. And how. Especially because I can’t …” he frowned, “I can’t travel holding both of you at the same time.” He looked away, embarrassed.

Rhyan had never carried two at once as he traveled. When we escaped the Allurian Pass, he’d gotten me and Meera out in two jumps, just to be safe. But now it was confirmed that his vorakh had its limits.

We’d tried having him jump only a few feet across the cave with both of us in his arms. It didn’t work. Rhyan either remained in place, sweat pouring down his forehead from the effort, or he’d jump, taking only one of us, and leaving the other on the floor. Being able to only carry one person at a time had been fine when it was just the two of us. But now we had Meera, and not only did that remove traveling from our options for escape, we also had to consider that Meera wasn’t physically trained to cross a country the way we were. She’d only just barely regained the strength she needed to get through the day after weeks of being starved and terrorized—forget hiking through the wilds and mountains of Glemaria in the snow. She was lucky to walk around the few feet of the cave without succumbing to exhaustion.

“I don’t think we can fly either,” he said. “It’s too risky. There’s going to be gryphons on constant patrol looking for us. He’ll cover every area he can with scouts. We’ll find a way. We always do.” He nuzzled my cheek, making a noise low in his throat. “For now, let me get you cleaned up. And dressed. For as much as I love the feel of your naked body against me …” He winked, and his hand slid down to my ass, squeezing. “It’s too cold for you not to be covered up.” He vanished, the cloak falling flat beside me where he’d been. He returned a moment later with a small washcloth that he’d dipped in the cave’s spring. He pulled the folds of the cloak back, his eyes suddenly heated again as he reverently ran the cloth over my center, and then used a fresh towel to dry me, before he gathered up my pants and slid them back over my legs.

When we were together again beneath the blanket, my back pressed to his front, his hand reached for my belly. The spot he claimed as he slept. “ Mekara ,” he whispered, snuggling against me. My soul is yours.

“ Rakame ,” I answered. Your soul is mine.

After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, falling into the deep rhythmic pattern that told me he was asleep.

The wards of the cave buzzed faintly in the background, and the torches we’d posted for light crackled and spat. In the distance, the cave’s spring trickled.

There was a howl of wind every so often, the high-pitched sound mixing with the low growls of our gryphon.

I tried to focus on Rhyan’s breathing. To match his rhythm and join him in sleep. But I couldn’t. Because mixed in with all of the noise, I swore I heard another sound. The hiss of a snake.

Nahashim.

I blinked, straining my ears. The sound didn’t come again. I couldn’t decide if I’d actually heard it, or if it was my imagination. The wards Meera and I had created were meant to keep them out, too. But nahashim always found their prey in the end.

And, so would I. When Rhyan’s father sent nine nahashim to track and capture him, I slew every last one. I’d do it again to keep him safe. I’d relish it.

Just as I was prepared to do anything to rescue Jules.

Rhyan’s chest rose and fell with slow even breaths against my back. He’d snuggled deeper into the covers, so his eyelashes fluttered against the base of my neck as he began to dream. I covered his hand with mine, my fingers lightly stroking up his forearm, as I eyed my stave and the gleam of my dagger in the firelight.