Chapter Six
Daxton Aegaeon
Ten days had passed since that dreadful scene on the beach in Solace.
All I could do was wait for Skylar to find the strength to talk to me. When Gilen turned his back on their pack and chose to stand with the very humans determined to wipe us from existence in Valdor, a spark of my mate’s fire flickered.
During the day, Skylar donned her armor, lending every ounce of her strength to her family and friends. But through our bond, I could sense her pain as my own.
Gilen’s betrayal had struck a chord deep within something I didn’t yet understand—breaking a pack bond.
Thankfully, it only took Fjorda five days to sail to Silver Meadows. Reuniting with her people brought Skylar’s true smile and light laughter, even as the sting of betrayal still hung like a heavy weight on her shoulders.
I never cared for Gilen. In fact, punching him in the face the night of Skylar’s farewell gathering was one of my fondest memories. But he mattered to Skylar and her pack. And because of this, his loss carried weight for me too, as much as I hated to admit it.
“Are you ready, Spitfire?” I asked, leaning against the doorway to our room. “If you want to postpone this meeting—”
“We’ve postponed it long enough, Daxton,” she cut in, her voice echoing beyond the corner leading to the washroom. “It’s time to accept the traitor’s decision and move forward. We have responsibilities that can no longer be overlooked.”
We were the unofficial rulers of the Inner Kingdom, neither married nor crowned in my people’s customs; however, we filled the role, nonetheless.
I sighed. “Very well.”
“Daxton.” The tone of her voice made me pause.
“Skylar?” I called out as she turned the corner, and I damn near lost my breath all over again.
She wore a silver coat of battle armor that gleamed against her warm skin, regal and fierce.
Fitted black pants, woven from Idris’s enchanted fabric, molded to her frame with knee-high boots that were made for quick shifts in and out of her phoenix form.
She looked like an alpha—a hardened warrior queen, ready to take her seat at the war council.
“I wanted to thank you, Daxton,” she said softly, closing the distance between us. “Thank you for always being there for me. For supporting me, no matter what.”
I pulled her in, silencing her with a kiss.
She didn’t need to thank me. I would do anything, everything for her without a second thought.
“I’d much prefer a show of gratitude from you, my alpha queen,” I whispered.
My lips brushed against her soft skin as I trailed kisses along her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. I paused at my mating mark, teasing it with the tip of my teeth before finally pressing my mouth to it.
“We are overdue,” she rasped, the words teetering on a moan.
I slid my hand into her hair, tugging her head back to find her lips once more and deepen our kiss. My mate gasped. Her body arched into mine, her desire answering my own through the bond. Gods, she tasted like fire—wild and untamed. And I was wholly hers.
“We are going to be late.” I hated the words that fell from my lips.
“And?”
“You really want that to be the impression you set at your first war council meeting, Spitfire?”
She smirked, a wild challenge gleaming in her eyes. “Who says I don’t?”
The buckle of my shoulder armor came undone with a subtle click, her fingers swift and deliberate. Then her lips were on mine, and she kissed me like she meant to ruin me. I was seconds away from saying fuck the meeting and keeping her all to myself.
“Spitfire…”
“Gah, fine.” She pulled away, fury and arousal swirling through our bond, causing my pants to tighten.
Gods, she was pulling at every thread of my willpower.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I said, my voice heavy with need.
“Better be a damn good one.”
She sounded pissed, but there were important things to discuss today, key points I wanted to address at the meeting. It wouldn’t be fun if she knew everything I had planned.
Reaching for her hand, the flames at her fingertips parted for my touch. I was amazed how her magic could sense me, even if Skylar’s attention was diverted elsewhere.
“I swear to you, Spitfire, tonight—after this meeting—you and I won’t be disturbed. We’ll have a night just for us.”
She blinked, amber eyes swirling with curiosity. “You swear, Daxton Aegaeon?”
I nodded.
She sighed, bending in front of me to retrieve the shoulder plate on the floor, showing me a perfect view of her backside that caused a growl of approval to escape my throat.
“Tempting,” I said, arching my brow.
She smirked, satisfied with the rise she was getting out of me, and reached around my chest to refasten the strap. “Can’t have the high king showing up without his armor now, can we?”
“Never.” I grasped her wrist and brought it to my lips, pressing a kiss to her skin, needing one last taste of her before duty pulled us apart.
“Together.”
“Together,” I said, our fingers intertwining as we walked side by side toward the war council.