CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
LYRIANA
“Rhyan,” I gasped, just as I was swallowed into his embrace, his arms tightening around me, his hands pressing into my back, his fingers tangling in my hair. For a moment, we just held each other, breathing each other in. Our hearts pounding, seemingly as one.
“Lyriana,” Rhyan murmured into my hair. “Lyriana.” He breathed me in, his aura intensifying. “By the Gods. We’re not safe here.” His hold on me, already possessive and strong, tightened.
“We’re not safe anywhere,” I said, thinking of everything that had happened just within the last day. My talk with Mercurial. What Rhyan’s father had revealed. My conversation with Imperator Kormac. There was so much happening, so much we had to worry about, to think through.
I pulled back, just so I could look him up and down. I was drinking in his features, the small details in his face I’d been unable to stare at for the past month. The way his cheeks flushed pink against his pale, northern complexion. The dark stubble nearly always present around his jaw. The soft pout of his lips, the way they always looked so damned kissable, and the pattern of soft curls in his hair that I just wanted to run my fingers through.
“Rhyan, we need to talk.”
“You’re not hurt?” he asked, his eyes searching mine. And I realized he’d been drinking me in, too. “I’ve been worried. Ever since we arrived—since you fainted. I wanted to come to you. But I—I couldn’t.” He looked so guilty as he admitted that.
“It was the shard,” I said, my voice shaking. “It made the light flare.”
“I thought so.” He shook his head, but then his hand slid to my belly, rising slowly up the front of my shirt, until his palm rested between my breasts. Over my heart. Over the mark of the golden Valalumir. “Anything?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head. “No. And now that I was near it, hopefully it got that first meeting glow out of the way.”
Rhyan’s expression tensed, his eyebrows drawing together. “I can’t believe what just happened back there.”
“I know.” The soturion had struck out of nowhere. But I’d been close enough to the front of the room to see the blade enter the Emperor’s stomach, to see the sword push in, and then up.
Exactly what I’d done to Brockton.
Rhyan sighed. “I don’t know what we’re going to do now.”
I bit my lip, the backs of my eyes burning. “I never thought I’d be praying for the Emperor’s health.”
“Praying?” Rhyan’s face hardened. “I’m not. He deserved a lot fucking more than that. After all that he’s done. He can burn in hell.”
“But the Valabellum—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said gently. “Something tells me, whether he lives or dies, it won’t make a difference. Even if there’s a new Emperor named tonight—Lyr, there’s not going to be a Valabellum tomorrow. There’s going to be a whole slew of other events coming instead. And a lot more Godsdamned security.”
“Who do you think would replace him?” I asked.
Rhyan ran his hands up and down my arms, before settling on my hips. He blew out a sharp breath. “Fuck if I know. It could be any of those bastards.” His throat bobbed. “We have to pray it’s not my father.”
If Devon Hart became Emperor, I didn’t know what that would mean for our bargain. I wouldn’t have to steal the shield. I knew that much. It would be his by right. He could simply take it, order it to be stored in Seathorne. And Jules would be his—he’d have all the access to her in the world.
And he’d have utter and complete control over me. Over Rhyan.
Just as he’d been planning all along.
My heart pounded now for another reason.
“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Rhyan said, quietly. “We’re both trapped in these apartments at least until morning. I can’t travel, and we can’t get past the guards—there’s too many. And the Throne Room’s off-limits for the foreseeable future.”
“Maybe we can still get the shard,” I said, hopefully. “After the Throne Room empties.”
Rhyan frowned. “Lyr, listen to me. Our plan to steal the shield was risky enough. Our odds of succeeding were slim. And that was after a month of planning. Everything we prepared was based on a specific event with a specific schedule and protocol. With what just happened, there’s too many unknown factors to account for.” He shook his head. “There’s no way we can do this. We need to wait.”
I shook my head, pulling back. “No. NO! We didn’t just do all of that planning and suffering for a month. Not for nothing.” My chest heaved. “Fuck!” Tears pricked my eyes. “I did not just spend a month missing you. Missing Meera, being taunted and tortured by your father. Being fucking touched and kissed by that Godsdamned monster. All so we could fucking fail in the end.”
I didn’t even realize it until then just how much the end of the mission was keeping me going, giving me the ability to fight through all my moments of misery and disgust. My lonely nights, my constant humiliation and worry—I’d barely handled it, but I had. Because if it meant saving Jules, it was worth it. But if we couldn’t even do that … if it had all been pointless …
Rhyan’s jaw tightened. “I saw. I saw that fucking kiss,” he growled, his emerald eyes blazing. His hands made fists at his sides. “And that Godsdamned dress.” His chest heaved, and his eyes searched mine for a long moment. And then, just as he sometimes did, when he looked like he was deliberating, carefully weighing his options, he beckoned me even closer. “Come here. Come here to me.”
I did. And he reached for my cheeks, his palms sliding down my neck. A shiver ran down my spine, and then his lips were on mine. Soft, and gentle, kissing only the corner of my mouth. It was barely a kiss at first, and then it was more. So much more.
But I pulled back. So much had happened tonight, I’d been able to ignore the sickening feeling in my stomach, and the disgust I felt from Kane’s lips on mine. My survival instincts had kept me safe, just as they had all month. But here, while we were in stasis, while everything was uncertain, I suddenly could feel his mouth on mine again. Feel his hands on my body. His unwanted eyes on my dress.
“Wait,” I said suddenly, shaking out of his hold.
Rhyan shook his head. “What? Why?”
“I feel disgusting.” I wiped at my lips. “I still feel him. Feel him there.” I looked away. “You shouldn’t have to—shouldn’t have to kiss me. Not after him.”
“Lyr, let me,” Rhyan said. “Let me kiss you. Let me kiss his touch away. I’ll kiss every place he touched you. Every place he looked at you. I’ll kiss you, and kiss you, until you forget. Kiss you, until you only know my mouth again.” His eyes heated.
“That’s a lot of kissing,” I said, my voice sounding defeated.
“Well,” Rhyan’s good eyebrow lifted, “It’s quite a hardship.” He winked. “But I think I’m up for the job. If you want me.”
The sound of boots marching down the hall sounded, and my throat tightened, the moment gone. Rhyan stilled, prepared to go back out the window if anyone entered, but the footsteps faded.
“If the Emperor does die,” I said quietly, “we could be dealing with your father in charge. Or, we could be facing an Emperor who chooses a new Imperator for the North. Any access we have right now to Jules could be taken away.”
“We haven’t lost yet,” he said. “It’s just that our original plan might not happen tomorrow.”
My heart sank. “It might not happen at all.” I squeezed his hands. “Imperator Kormac knows. He knows you’re vorakh.”
Rhyan paled. “What? He told you that?”
I sighed. “He’s holding it over me. Nothing we did the past month—at least nothing I did—fucking matters. Kormac wants me to end the engagement. He says if I go back to Viktor, you’ll be safe.”
“And you believe him? Gryphon-shit.” He pushed his fingers through his hair. “Gods! How many fucking suitors can they force on you?”
I laughed bitterly. “He was worried,” I said. “It’s not just that he wants to use me to get to Bamaria. He’s worried that Brockton told us about Jules. I think he knows we know.”
“Fuck. I never thought about that. But if that’s true,” he ran his fingers through his hair again, “Then he’s never been more dangerous.”
“Maybe I should take his offer,” I said.
“What?” Rhyan shouted. “Lyr, no! I won’t let you do that. You are not risking your life for mine.”
“What other choice do I have?”
“Not that one. You are not handing yourself over to those Godsdamned wolves! Just give me a chance to think. Let me handle it.”
“Just like you’ve been handling everything else behind my back?” My voice had come out with far more bitterness than I’d realized I was carrying.
His eyes darkened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I saw Mercurial,” I said, my voice cold. “He told me about Rakashonim. He told me you’ve known for a month. You knew that first day we were in Seathorne, and you said nothing to me. Nothing. We had that night to talk, and you could have told me, warned me, shared your concerns, but you didn’t tell me.” I shook my head, my chest tightening. All at once, I felt like I was coming undone. I’d been so worried for Rhyan, so concerned and upset about our distance, I hadn’t had room to fully be angry. To be upset at the secrets he’d kept. But I was. And I couldn’t hide it any longer, because all the buried feelings, were now rushing to the surface.
Rhyan paled. “Lyr, I couldn’t. You know I couldn’t with the restrictions we’ve had in place.”
“Before those!” I shouted. “Maybe you didn’t get a chance to tell me about the Rakashonim that night . But what about Kenna? Or what happened with Garrett?” I sucked in a breath. “What about Amalthea?” I couldn’t stop. Every secret I knew he was keeping was pouring out of me.
Rhyan’s jaw was working, his breath heavy. He was silent for a long moment, his aura almost unreadable as it shifted, growing colder and colder, and then seemingly vanishing all at once.
“Who told you about Amalthea?” His voice had hardened, every word he spoke clipped and harsh.
“Your father,” I spat. “Who else?”
“Gods.” He groaned, low in his throat. “I didn’t want you to know. You weren’t supposed to.”
“What do you mean I wasn’t supposed to?” I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “What else am I not supposed to know?”
His eyes flashed with anger. But then, just as suddenly, he looked utterly defeated. He walked past me, sinking down onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice shook. “I’m sorry.”
I sat down on the bed beside him, and for a moment we sat in silence.
Finally, he lifted his head and looked at me, his eyes red. “I didn’t want you to know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And at the same time, I did. But I couldn’t tell you. Because I’ve been afraid. Because I’m a fucking coward.”
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Yes, it is!”
I felt a knot in my stomach form, unprepared for the anguish in his voice. He looked like he was in so much pain, so much agony. It was the same look he wore when Dario and Aiden had captured us, when they’d first mentioned Garrett. Rhyan was making himself miserable. And I realized then, that I cared more about him than I did about any secrets he’d kept. Cared more for him than any anger I’d been holding onto. I’d needed to express it, but that was it. Whatever secrets he’d kept from me in the past, he’d always done so with good intentions. Rhyan did everything with good intentions.
He didn’t need to tell me everything just so I could know, or so I could trust him. I didn’t need any of that. I already knew his soul. I already trusted him completely. But this month had been harder on us than I realized.
“Rhyan,” I said. “Look at me.” I cupped his chin. “Look at me.” He did. “ Ani janam ra. ”
He sniffled, his eyes crinkling. “I know you.”
I nodded. “I know you. I love you. And I trust you. You’re not a coward. I know you had your reasons. But you can tell me, anything. If it helps, I want you to. And if it doesn’t, then don’t. If you’re not ready, I understand. But if you are, I’m here. I just, I don’t want to be left in the dark. Not when it comes to my safety. Not when it comes to yours. We’re partners.” Then I pressed my fist to my heart, and I pressed it twice, then flattened my hand. “ Me sha, me ka .”
Rhyan took a shuddering breath. “Lyr,” he said. “You’re right. There are things you need to know. I promised I’d tell you. And I think, I think now I’m ready to tell you everything. I think I need to.” He bit his lip. “It’s just …” He swallowed roughly, shaking his head. “It’s a lot.”
I placed my hand on his arm, then slid it down to his hand, our fingers entwined. “We have some time. I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight.”
His eyes moved slowly back and forth across my face.
“I promise,” I said. “Nothing you tell me will change the way I feel.”
And then he nodded, taking a long, deep breath, as if in preparation.
“I know.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Just … where do I start?”
“Anywhere.”
He squeezed my hand. “I’ve been having dreams,” he said. “Memories. Of myself as Auriel. They’re … haunting.” His eyes watered. “Each time I see you, I see you as Asherah, and in the dream, it’s like … it’s like no time has passed. My love for her—it’s like my love for you. Overwhelming. So deep, and intense.” He smiled wryly. “But so many times in the dreams, you—she, dies.” He looked away, and something in my heart stirred.
“I hear her screaming,” he continued. “Almost every night, I climb Gryphon’s Mount in my dreams, I build the tomb, I close her in it. Her body. You. And Gods. It’s agony. And it’s …” He blew air from his lips. “It’s left me scared of losing you. More than I was already.”
I rubbed my thumb back and forth across his hand, and he tightened his hold on me.
“So, when Mercurial came to see me,” he said, “and told me that your ability to heal, that your ability to call on Asherah is something called Rakashonim , and that it’s dangerous, it … it threw me. I’ve been researching it. Trying to understand. Trying to find answers. I wanted to find a way you could use it without hurting yourself.”
I nodded, knowing he’d been requesting additional scrolls at the library. “I thought you were researching Shiviel.”
“I was. I am. I’ve been looking at both. Because in one of my dreams, I realized that it was what we’d done to him that killed Asherah. Or at the very least, was the start of it. It had been too much. Too much magic for her form to hold. Last night, even after all I’d read, I still didn’t know what we’d done. When I couldn’t sleep, I snuck outside, and walked to the seraphim. Kind of like I do every night, but this time I was awake. I fell asleep at her side, in the rain. I’d had memories there before, so I thought I’d try again. And I was right. I dreamt Shiviel had captured me—Auriel. And you came. Asherah, came to save me. I was weak. But together we—they—”
I squeezed his hand.
His lips quirked. “We cut through his soul, at least that’s my understanding. We cut him in half, but his body remained the same. Less, but whole. And from that, a new life was born. A small child.”
“What?” I asked. Something stirred in the back of my memory. Brown eyes. But just as quickly, the memory faded.
“It looked like we killed him. But we didn’t. I think …” Rhyan drew in a sharp breath. “I think there’s an eighth Guardian out there. One who isn’t as powerful. Kane has no vorakh. But I think this one does. And there’s something else. Something else I didn’t tell you, because—because I wasn’t sure. And I’m still not. But no more secrets between us.”
“No more secrets,” I said.
“When we fought that first night in Seathorne, about my father rescuing Jules, I still maintain what I said. That he wouldn’t save her for you—no matter the bargain. He wouldn’t do anything to make you happy, or help her. Not unless it benefited him. Mercurial told me Meera was Cassarya. And that left only Hava to find. But then he said something strange. He said I had found Hava. Once.”
“He said you found her?” My eyes widened, piecing together what he was saying. “Rhyan.” I could feel my heart thundering. His father would only help rescue Jules if it benefited him. Rhyan had only found her once. Hava, Goddess and Guardian of the Violet Ray.
I remembered then so clearly the way Jules always loved the color violet. The way she wore a violet dress that night. The way her hair fell like a lion’s mane. How Hava was depicted the same. “Jules?”
He nodded grimly. “I think so.”
“Then your father truly will rescue her.”
“To control her—to control all of us.”
“We have to get the shard. We can’t let Morgana and Aemon have it. And we can’t let them take Jules for themselves.” I’d known from the vision I took from Meera they planned to come for her, too. But now I could see exactly why. Not because she was our cousin. Because they needed her for their army—to fight against us. Another Guardian. Myself to fucking Moriel. Jules was a Guardian. A Goddess.
“How?” I asked suddenly. “How does your father know all of this?”
Rhyan stared ahead. “Well, Jules is a guess on my part. But a good one based on the evidence. I think … I think my father’s actually telling the truth about my mother.” His jaw tensed, his eyes reddening. “I never … never saw her with a vorakh. But, for all his lies, sometimes there’s a kind of truth inside them. He bound her, drained her, amongst the other things he did. She would have hardly had access to her magic as it was those last few years. But I think she saw us coming, saw what would happen. I don’t know if she told him willingly, or if he forced her to detail her visions to him.” He shook his head sadly. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense, and now looking back at everything … When she died, she said something to me.” His voice shook. “She said that it was right.”
“What was right?” I asked gently.
He shrugged. “That she died for me? That she saved me? Maybe that she knew all along how it would end. I don’t know. But just before the tournament when Garrett died, she was speaking cryptically. Offering hints. I’d thought she was maybe intuitive, not vorakh, and then I had written the idea off, thinking she’d only known about my father’s machinations. I thought she was warning me. But now, I think … I think she knew more about what was coming than I’ll ever understand.”
“Jules is Hava,” I said, still in disbelief. “And there’s another Guardian. A lesser Shiviel.”
“Yes,” Rhyan said, looking distant. “Gods. To think that Kane could have been stronger the first time he broke my nose. He probably would have killed me.”
I remembered what Aiden and Dario had said. That Kane had hurt Rhyan the day before Garrett died. And that Aiden had healed him, that Garrett had been there, too.
“What happened back then?” I asked, my thumb rubbing small circles against his skin.
“I guess now is the part where I tell you the rest of it. All of it.” He took another deep breath, his eyes meeting mine. “Garrett was vorakh.”
My eyes widened. “With which power?”
“Mine,” Rhyan said bleakly. “Traveling. Remember when I showed you the scar on my back? The mark of a blood oath. I told you it was dormant, because it had been fulfilled, and because—because the author of it’s gone.”
We’d been on the beach, beside the Guardian of Bamaria. The waves lapping at our feet. Rhyan had just learned that Meera had visions. Learned why I’d been protecting her.
“I remember.” Like all blood oaths, his was invisible, and only detected by the feel of raised skin. “What happened?”
“Akadim attacked at the end of summer, the year before I returned to Bamaria forsworn. Everyone was out that night in the fields, drinking and partying. Even me. Then the bells rang. The akadim were close, and our soturi were nowhere to be seen. Dario was pissed, far too drunk to fight. We had no choice but to send him off with Kenna, who … who I was with at the time.” He pressed his lips together, looking unsure if he should continue.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I promise. You can talk about her.” Then I smiled. “I like Kenna.”
Rhyan emitted a small relieved gasp, his eyes watering further, and he nodded. “She likes you, too.”
I took a deep breath. “So you sent Dario to protect her?”
“And Aiden. Both of them are mages so …” He gestured helplessly.
“Not great in an akadim fight,” I offered.
“No.” Rhyan continued. “Garrett and I went to stop the threat. I was still new to killing the beasts. Not as skilled as I am now. One almost got me. One second, I was there fighting for my life, and the next … I’d traveled to a nearby river. I freaked out when I realized what I’d done. But it wasn’t me who’d done it. It had been Garrett. He’d gotten us out of there. He saved my life.” He looked down at the ground. “We swore the blood oath that night. Not exactly to keep each other’s secret. But, to keep each other safe. To protect the other. I was the only one who knew about him. Not Dario. Not even Aiden. Garrett didn’t want him to have that burden. So I kept it for him. Then, during the tournament, while we were in the wild tracking down our gryphons, we were attacked. Near the Allurian Pass.” He shook his head. “We were ambushed by akadim.”
“By the Gods,” I said, shifting closer to Rhyan, my heart was pounding.
“I thought we were okay,” he cried. “I really did. Garrett killed one and we escaped, and tried to warn the others. We had to fly back to the arena. It took hours. And Garrett,” his chest heaved, “he was quiet the whole time. Barely saying a word. He was forsaken … turning. And just—” Rhyan wiped at his eyes. “Silently dealing with it. Accepting his fate.” He swallowed. “Inside the arena, it was getting dark. He’d be akadim at sunset—he had maybe minutes. That’s when he told me. He wanted me to …” His shoulders shook. “Asked me to …” But he couldn’t go on. He was filled with too much emotion.
But I understood. “You had to kill him,” I said. “To save him.”
Rhyan nodded. “And to fulfill my oath. To protect him, to keep him from becoming a bigger monster.”
I held Rhyan to me, and his arms wrapped around my waist. But then he pulled back, like he had to keep talking. He’d kept the secret for too long, and now that he’d started, he had to finish.
“My father threw me in prison after. He wasn’t happy. He wanted me to win. But not like that. What happened in the arena destroyed me, but he was only concerned with the political ramifications. He brought me out the night he wanted me to swear the blood oath. The night he killed my mother. He was going to kill me. But she—she came between us. And then, after I rotted in prison for some time, Kenna showed up. She brought the key, gave it to my escort. To Bowen. He smuggled me out. But he didn’t make it. He died.” He’d been speaking in an almost rushed-trance-like state. But his voice cracked on the name of his old guard. “Just as I reached the border, Dario’s father found me. I was escaping on gryphon-back—one Artem had provided for me. And when we were attacked, the gryphon—” His jaw clenched.
“The gryphon killed Dario’s father?” I asked. “Not you.”
“It makes little difference. Still my fault he’s dead. My fault the others are, too.”
“Rhyan, no. No. Listen to me. None of this is your fault.” I wiped at the tears now falling freely from his eyes. “You didn’t know that any of that would happen. You weren’t trying to hurt anyone. You were just trying to escape, to survive. And you had to make impossible choices.”
“Whatever it is, it’s the reason why … why Dario and Aiden hate me.”
I pushed one of his unruly curls back with my fingers, then traced my palm down his cheek. “I don’t think they do,” I said softly. “I think they’re hurting. I think if they knew … I think they’d understand.” I remembered Kenna’s words, that they loved Rhyan, and that she believed they would work it out. And I believed it too now, especially when I considered those small moments when Dario’s guard had slipped. “I think they’d forgive you. More importantly, I think they want to.”
“I’ve been distant from them. For a long time. Even before everything with Garrett happened. After the solstice that one year, the year we … you know.”
I nodded. “I know.”
He made a low guttural sound in his throat. “Fuck. I was so in love with you that summer. So completely lost. I still feel ill when I think about hurting you. But I don’t regret it. Because I did what I had to—to protect you. When I came home, I thought I’d never see you again, never step another foot in Bamaria. And I was okay with that, or I thought I was, at least. I thought I could stand it. But I was miserable. I missed you. And I was lonely. So fucking lonely. I kept to myself for a year. I wouldn’t court. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want anyone. Only you.” His eyes flashed. “Because it was always, always you. And I didn’t want to talk about it. Not to anyone. But then … well?” He laughed bitterly. “A son of Devon Hart can’t be celibate.” He spoke, mocking the cadence of his father. “People talk. I had no choice. I had to start … courting again. So I did. Whoever my father pushed at me. Nobles, visiting dignitaries, their daughters.”
I swallowed, realizing he’d moved on to another confession. A deeper one.
“And with all those nobles, you … you didn’t want to …?” I couldn’t finish. What he was describing sounded a lot like rape. “Not with any of them?”
Rhyan swallowed, quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant, his jaw clenched. “No,” he said at last. “No. I didn’t want to.” His eyes reddened, and his mouth tightened. “I mean, I was never … never overpowered. Nor hurt, not physically. Any single one of them, all of them actually, I could have fought off without breaking a sweat, even when I was bound. Easily. I just … didn’t.” His throat worked. “I didn’t fight back. Didn’t say no.” His voice cracked. “I let it happen. All of it. Because I was numb. Because I thought I had no choice. Because I didn’t care. Until Kenna. Once there was Kenna, it stopped. She saved me.”
My chest hurt, my own tears falling. “Thank the Gods for Kenna, then.”
He sniffled and nodded. “Amalthea was the first one. The worst one. I was … so fucking wasted. And I didn’t—I didn’t want her. Didn’t want to. But …” He shook his head sadly. “After my father’s threats … and … well … I’d found out that day about Jules being taken. And I knew, knew about you and Tristan. I was a wreck.”
“And what about Amalthea?” I asked angrily. I thought of all the times he’d scratched his palm when she was near, the way he’d shut his emotions off around her. The way she pressed herself against him, forcing so much bodily contact. Because it wasn’t foreign to her. “Did she know?” I seethed. “Did she know you didn’t want to?”
Rhyan looked miserable. “I don’t know, Lyr. Maybe. I don’t … can’t really remember. I was so damn drunk.”
“That should have been enough,” I yelled. “When I see her again …” My hands trembled with a rage I hadn’t known I could possess.
“Don’t,” Rhyan said, his voice now soft. “Don’t. She’s not worth it. It’s all over now. No matter what, I’ll never touch her again, and I’ll never let her touch me. I’ll never let another. No matter what my father says.” He shifted on the bed, his face raw with emotion, but there was something else. A lightening to his aura. A sense of having shared some of his burden with me.
I shifted too, our knees touching, our hands clasped.
“Lyriana. Lyr.” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because I’m yours. I was always yours. All of those years went by and I never forgot you. Never went a day without you in my mind, without you being at the forefront of my desires. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all of this before. I’m sorry you had to find out these things the way you did. I’m sorry if any of it ever hurt you. Or made you question me. Even if only for a moment. I’m sorry I was too afraid to tell you before now. Because I’m with you. Only you. I’ve seen the look in your eyes. The hurt I caused from my own damned cowardice. I’d do anything to take it back. To erase all your pain from the past month. So if you need to mark your territory, do it. Do whatever you want to me.” He sank to the floor, kneeling before me.
“Rhyan?” I asked.
“Take me,” he said, his voice almost desperate. Begging. “Take me for all I am. You want to claim me? Mark me? Do it. Scratch me, scar me. I don’t care. Your touch is the only one I’ve ever wanted. The only one I’ve ever needed. And I’ll take it in any way I can. While we have tonight. While we’re trapped here. Remind me. Remind yourself, after all I told you. After all these secrets, and all we’ve been through. I’m yours. Gods, Lyr. I’m fucking yours. I always have been.”
My heart was swelling with love for Rhyan, and somehow breaking all at once. I knew him. I knew his soul. I kept thinking we’d reached the height of intimacy, of knowing each other. But somehow, I felt even closer to him, now that I knew all of his secrets. And I realized something else with a sudden, burning hunger.
I needed him.
But the desire inside me wasn’t what he was describing.
I rose to my feet, taking his hands in mine, and he stood with me. I expanded my aura, pushing out my warmth, my love, letting it entwine with the cool soothing nature of his. I could almost feel it, our energies joining and crackling around us. Hot and cold, the sun and the moon, coming together into a perfect combination.
At last, I shook my head. “No. Rhyan.”
His face fell.
My eyes searched his. “I don’t need to claim you. Nor mark you. It’s not your body that’s mine. It’s your heart, it’s your soul. Just as my heart, body, and soul are yours. In this life, in every life. Forever. Rakame .”
He was breathing heavily then, emitting an emotional sigh of relief. And then our bodies were coming together, pressing closer to match our auras. His eyes were hooded now, darkening and hungry with desire.
I ran my fingers through his hair. And suddenly nothing else seemed to matter. Not Kane. Not Amalthea. Not the Emperor’s death, or anyone else here. Not even the threat of me using Rakashonim. Just me and Rhyan for these next few stolen hours. They were ours. Just ours. And I was going to take them.
His father’s orders wouldn’t touch me here, there was no blood compulsion pulling me away, telling me to stop. I was free. Here, alone with Rhyan, at last, I was free. Free to do this with him. And I wasn’t going to waste a single second.
I pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, the way he’d done to me, and lightly tugged at the curls at the nape of his neck, drawing his mouth closer, slanting it across mine.
“It’s you,” I said, my lips moving against his. “You need to take your power back.” I stepped away from him, reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it into the corner. His eyes watched hungrily, taking in my bare breasts, gazing intently as they rose and fell with each of my quickened breaths.
His eyes only shifted when he realized my hands had moved to the waistband of my pants. His gaze was searing, burning through me as they carefully followed my movements, watching as the material slid down to my ankles and I kicked them aside. I was left in nothing but my underwear, tied at my hips.
Then I sat back on the bed, my legs spreading wide. “Rhyan,” I breathed. “Claim me.”