Chapter 34
34
Lyra
Thane’s mouth parted in surprise when I emerged from the small chamber behind Roark. My skin was still flushed from the passion of his kiss, and doubtless my hair was unkempt and wild.
I knew enough about the prince to know he would’ve laughed any other night. Tonight, he shoved a palm against Roark’s chest, eyes dark with frustration.
“How do you expect me to protect you when you pull shit moves like this? Tomas is an ass, but he’s a noble ass, and you broke his damn jaw. You know Hundur despises Dravenmoor because of his brother-in-law.”
“What happened to his brother-in-law?” I asked, voice soft. Gods, how could it get worse? If Roark was implicated here and the Myrdan king already had a vendetta…
Thane flicked his gaze to me, frowning. “The late Draven king was once challenged by the queen’s brother for a rumor that his younger sister was kidnapped by a Draven nobleman. Let’s just say there was one less Myrdan soon enough. Hundur has claimed it as murder for seasons.”
I looked to Roark, who’d gone stoic and stern, all Sentry while the prince spoke.
Thane looked away again, glaring at his guard. “Hundur will see this as another aggressive act by a Draven. What if he takes Yrsa away? You know what her life is like in Myrda.”
Roark glanced at Tomas, still moaning on the steps, hands over his face. From the sneer on the Sentry’s face, I wasn’t certain Roark felt much guilt for what happened here.
Still, I refused to watch him take the blame on my behalf.
“It wasn’t him.” The admission was soft, but steady.
Without a pause, Roark waved his hand, signaling the prince to look at him, not me. He is fortunate my blade is not in his heart .
Thane folded his arms over his chest. “What did you mean, Ly?”
“He’s not broken.” I intentionally turned away from Roark’s glare. He wanted to take my actions as his, but one kiss and I could not stomach the thought of never having another one. “Ser Tomas is melded.”
Thane’s brows lifted. “You sealed his mouth?”
Again, Roark intervened, stepping between me and Thane. He attacked her. Hurt her. Had her against the wall .
Thane peered at me. “That true?”
What was the point of hiding the truth? I rested a hand on Roark’s arm, a silent plea to keep steady, and straightened my shoulders to the prince. “Tomas seemed to believe I was his simply because of his station in the Myrdan court. He said if he assaulted me, put a child in me, the kings would see me as ruined and give me to him as a wife.”
A wash of rage twisted Thane’s face. Kind and personable, but harm someone he loved, and Thane could reveal the dark edges of his soul with ease. “Did he, now?”
“Roark had the opportunity to kill him,” I went on, “but he didn’t. He insisted on trying to take the fall for me”—I turned to the Sentry with a narrow look—“but I was the one who did this.”
The prince said nothing for a dozen heartbeats. Then Thane descended the few steps to Tomas’s side and nudged the bastard in the ribs with the toe of his boot, and crouched, elbows on his knees, waiting for Tomas to crack his eyes open.
“You won’t be able to eat,” he said, voice rough. “Nor drink. What a horrid way to die. I suppose you should have kept your hands off her.”
Tomas moaned, eyes imploring the prince for aid.
“Yrsa told me about you, the things you say to her. It is unfortunate your family has such prestige and my father will crave diplomacy. But hear me.” Thane gripped a tuft of Tomas’s hair. “If you are healed, if you can speak again, you say nothing against the melder or the Sentry.
“Refuse and I will see to it a bone crafter snaps each bone in your body, then Lyra will be given the chance to repeat what she has done today. I will leave you on the Night Ledges, where the crows or Unfettered Folk will decide your fate.”
Thane kicked his boot into Tomas’s ribs, revealing a brutality in the prince I’d not seen. Then again, as Gammal told me, one never truly knows another until they see the darkness inside. Then we made the choice to love all their jagged, broken edges or not.
I spared a look at Roark. What darkness lived within the Sentry? It was there, I could feel it—dangerous and beautiful. I’d shown him a sharper piece of my desires tonight, admitted I wanted to slaughter Tomas Grisen.
Roark had not turned from me, even did the opposite by pulling me in and unlocking a new, greedy temptation with his wicked mouth and powerful hands.
Should he ever give up his darker edges, I hoped I would do the same.
“Roark, take Lyra to her chambers,” Thane said. “I will see to this, but expect both kings to have words about it all.”
Blood drained from my face. I jolted when Roark took hold of my hand, gently guiding me up the staircase.
Outside my chamber door, two Stav Guard were positioned for the night.
I bit down a laugh when Roark nearly snarled at the two men until their spines stiffened like rods of iron. If I had to guess, the Sentry was, all at once, regretting his choice to have more bodies near us tonight.
Roark slammed the door behind us. I stepped away, my back toward him, my arms around my middle. “Your men might tell the king if you…if you don’t leave my chamber tonight.”
Gods, did I want him to stay with me?
Yes. I wanted more, and feared what such a desire could bring. Damir would never condone it. Truth be told, if ever I wanted a lover, I had few doubts the king would take me for himself all to keep me close.
The way Damir coveted his melders, it was clear he did not want their attentions distracted by anyone else.
Roark’s slow steps came up behind me. His chest brushed against my back until he gently turned me into him and lifted my palm to his lips, kissing me there.
Too soon, Roark stepped away. Perhaps I ought to have feared such a brazen shift in my thoughts about the man I wanted to despise, but I was drawn to him—a moth trapped in fire-golden eyes.
Without hesitation, I cupped the back of his neck and slammed his mouth down to mine.
I kissed him, deeper and deeper, until sweetness faded to frenzy. Roark’s fingers dug into my hip bones, my back struck the wall. His tongue, his heat, his need pressed against me and I was lost to it.
I raked my fingers in his hair, tousling the dark strands. His teeth scraped along my bottom lip when he pulled back. For long, breathless moments Roark pressed his brow to mine, holding me close.
I lifted my chin when his fingers touched my cheek in his gentle words. I will keep watch on the corridor .
“You already have two men at my door.”
They are not me.
My lips curved into a sly sort of smirk. “A little possessive, don’t you think, Sentry?”
Roark’s hand gripped around my chin, then lowered to my neck, his thumb running along the smooth slope of my throat. More than a little. He pulled one of his palms back enough to say, I should go .
I allowed my palms to slide down his firm chest. “Don’t do anything foolish like turn yourself over to the Myrdan guard all to be some hero to honor my tarnished name.”
I’m no hero .
“Probably best. I never favored the hero in sagas.” I gnawed on my thumbnail while Roark straightened his tunic and smoothed his finger-raked hair. At the open door, I dipped my chin. “Good night, Sentry Ashwood.”
Alone in my chamber, I fell into bed, only to drop into a fitful sleep. Screams, smoke, terror filled the night.
“Go, elskan! Run, keep your eyes down.” The woman’s voice carved through me like sharp glass. My mother. I could smell her—bread and honey and lavender soap—and she was screaming for me to run.
Dreams were timeless. Where the smoke and clang of steel swords had been, now there was only darkness, the chill of the night, and a sharp taste of brine from the sea.
My head rocked back and forth. Two sturdy ropes held me—no, arms. I was in arms.
“Stop fidgeting, godsdammit.”
His voice was older, sharper, and lined in fear.
When he came to a pause, breathless and frantic, I let my head loll to the side. My heart shot to my throat. We weren’t alone. There was someone else nearby, someone clad in black but for two brilliant eyes the color of a golden sun.