Chapter 36
Lyra
A single tallow candle in an iron lantern illuminated the prince’s tent. Thane had a wider cot than the one where I was bound. Roark settled Kyrre outside the door to keep watch.
“He already looks like he’s grown two heads taller since he bonded to you.”
Roark spun on me, ignoring talk of his fara, and dug his fingertips into my hip bones. One palm splayed over my spine and the other slid up my ribs, caressing the side of one breast, until he could speak against my cheek. Had I not found you when I did, kingdoms would’ve burned.
A sigh slid from my throat, his kisses trailing across my neck. “A little excessive since I’m certain this was orchestrated by your mother.”
Roark nipped at my pulse point and nodded. Likely.
No doubt, Elisabet sent the plea to the prince, convinced he would come to my aid. She’d questioned me regarding Thane before abandoning me, clearly seeking assurance about his character before leaving me to be taken into his hands.
She sent us, Roark gestured, tugging on the laces of the clean top Yrsa had lent me. She made it seem as though war would begin if we did not leave immediately.
Roark’s teeth scraped across the swell of one breast. I clasped his face in my palms, tugging his lips close. “Then remind me to thank your mother for being devious when we meet again.”
I kissed him, frantic and greedy. All teeth, moans, and tongues.
Roark pinned me to the cot, the ropes and thin canvas sling groaning under our weight. His hand palmed my breast, and his fingers slipped beneath the tunic until the tips brushed over my nipple.
“Hmm.” I arched my spine. “I thought you wanted a taste.”
The vicious smirk twisted over his swollen lips. As you wish, wife.
He pulled the tunic over my head and kissed a line down the center of my chest, pausing to draw in each hardened peak between his lips.
I felt wild and uncontrolled. As though if I did not lose myself in this man soon I would split through my own skin. I curled my arms around his head, holding his mouth against me.
Roark’s fingers touched and flicked, kneading my breasts. Let’s see how ready you are for me.
Blood thudded in my skull. He slid his other palm across my middle and dipped beneath the loose trousers. The tip of his finger teased my center, circling and sliding inside just enough to spin my head.
Roark moaned and grinned a little viciously. He mouthed the word Perfect against my parted lips and kissed me, deeper and harder.
I panted, desperate for more. He made quick work of peeling the trousers from my legs.
With a touch of copper red in his eyes, Roark knelt at the end of the cot. He dragged his tongue between my thighs, holding me captive to his beautifully cruel kiss. My fingers tangled in his hair, seeking purchase against the storm of his hands, his lips, him.
I moaned and bucked, and my thighs tightened around his head as release built and built until tension snapped. I slapped a palm over my mouth to muffle the scream. Tents offered little privacy, and I refused to face Thane or Gunter and their salacious words and winks come dawn.
Roark sloughed off his trousers, reared over me, and filled me in a single thrust.
His mouth brushed against my lips, the taste of me lingering there. I let my tongue trace the bottom edge of his mouth. Overheated, breathless, I rocked against his hips, needing more.
The way Roark loved me—no, cherished me—left my heart feeling like it might pound a hole through my ribs.
His hips moved slowly, making certain each thrust was thorough and brushed against a spot deep inside that locked my head into a beautiful fog. He rolled and glided his cock in and out, nearly removing himself entirely before sliding back in.
“Roark, gods. You’re so deep.” My head fell back, my throat bared, when he gently bit down on my nipple, his hips rolling against mine with perfect friction and pressure. “I want to feel you everywhere.”
I felt delirious, like I could not get enough. Roark seemed to take it as a challenge to break me apart before piecing me together again and again.
He pinched one nipple, rolling it until I could not catch a deep enough breath. He drew the other between his lips and sucked. Hard.
I writhed beneath him with enough frenzy that the cot groaned. For a moment I feared it might break. My breaths were stilted and short. Sweat dampened strands of my hair to my brow.
Roark’s eyes were fierce. Darker desires perfectly united with the heart I loved.
Another wave of heat unfurled from the crown of my head to my curled toes, and I broke apart in his arms.
Roark held me close as he bucked his hips harder and ground himself against me, the sounds of our passion between us, until his cock pulsed and he spent his release with a guttural moan. We held each other, breathing heavily.
Slowly, he rolled onto his shoulder, trying to align us both on the narrow space, and cradled my head against him.
Roark pressed soft kisses to my cheek, his fingers following. I love you. Every piece of you.
I fell asleep easily, safe in the arms of my hunter, my lover, my husband.
Until, healing wound and all, Fadey invaded my dreams.
—
All around were smoky shadows and frost.
There was an absence in the mirror without the scorching gaze of Skul Drek there to draw me in, to consume me. Then again, I wasn’t convinced this was the rotting mirror realm.
“Hello again, Lyra Bien.”
The glow of Fadey’s soul had darkened even more. Tarnished bronze, as if pieces of his soul were beginning to rot away like the decay of the realm of souls. Between us that damn filament remained, frayed and tattered. It dug into his chest and burrowed into the vibrant web of my soul bond.
I wanted to rip it out.
“This isn’t real.” I inspected my palm. The dark, poisonous glow from Ingir’s blood craft was nearly faded, once more a brilliant golden sheen across my soul.
Fadey’s sneer widened at my frantic attempts to unravel the frayed rope between us. “This is very real, Lyra. I vowed we’d speak again.”
A shudder rippled up my arms. I had little desire to know all the gory plans Fadey had. He wanted to use me like a harvest of bones for his own twisted gains. “Your blood spell is gone.” I held up my healing palm. “You can’t follow us any longer.”
“Hmm. Perhaps.”
Fadey took a step to one side. I went the opposite way. We circled each other, two wolves on a hunt.
“The way I see it, you remain unable to find all the bones on your own,” I said. “Perhaps I will let them rest and end you instead.”
He laughed, dark and cruel. “The gods left this power to be found or to poison our land, Lyra. All I’ve ever desired is to restore the kingdoms, the crafts, as the gods always meant them to be. But it will take a brutality you do not have to finish it.”
“Then you do not know what lengths I will go to protect those I love.”
“You cannot stop my fate. You cannot stop that you are part of it.” He strummed the bond between us.
“Look with your own eyes; the gods have joined us. Together we will save these kingdoms from destroying one another with war. I will see to it that your sacrifice will earn you a hallowed place in Salur.”
“If I am needed, then perhaps the gods have called me to gather the bones. To protect them from you.”
I wanted to wake up. I could not find a way out.
Fadey’s eyes were black as scorched tinder when he looked up. “Tell me, did the firstborns find you? It will make it much simpler to gather the bones with the lot of you together.”
My heart cinched. He knew we’d reunited with Thane and Yrsa. No. I looked at the fading wound. They must’ve discovered Thane and Yrsa were gone; they must’ve used the blood spell to track my movements.
Perhaps it was an assumption we’d reunited, but I had no time to refute his insinuation before Fadey took another step toward me. “You know, our first meeting at Stonegate ended rather abruptly—”
“When I melded your hand to your leg? Tell me, how painful was it to break the bones away?”
A shadow crossed his face, ugly and harsh.
“I’m convinced that even with our growing connection, I don’t know if the wards against me would’ve cleared without you if I’d killed you in Stonegate.
So that is why I’m here. I will let you go retrieve what is hidden.
Then, you will return it to me. After, I swear to you, I will send you to Salur with no pain. ”
“What an offer. I think I will decline.”
“You think I do not know where you’re going all because you managed to heal a spell from your blood?
It’s too late, Lyra. I can sense the truth of it in your mind, you know I will find you before you can use anything against me.
” One corner of Fadey’s mouth curved. “Take care over the Night Ledges. Unfettered clans are not always hospitable.”
Heat drained from my face. A dream or the mirror, dread stacked heavy in my belly. “We aren’t going to the Night Ledges.”
“No point in lying.” He tapped the side of his head. “You will bring me the final piece, hidden by the royal house of Dravenmoor. And that is the final piece. I know how to claim the rest. You do not.”
Damn the gods. Without Nivek’s and Roark’s actions during the raids, Fadey would have had all of the firstborns and the female melder within grasp. Did Prince Nivek know that by shadowing his bone shard and stealing away the melder, the hunt for the Wanderer would be halted?
For a man like Fadey, such a disruption in his plans would bring out his brutality.
My brow furrowed. “Did you kill the firstborn prince of Dravenmoor?”
Fadey barked a laugh. “How I wish I had gotten to him first. Not only did he take you, but his blood spilled before I could take it for myself.”
He wanted Nivek’s blood?
“I once thought the hunt was pointless after the firstborn of Dravenmoor died, until I sensed the hidden power still existed, kept from me, but there. What secrets the firstborn of Dravenmoor must have kept.”
I flashed my teeth. “And when I find Nivek’s shard, I will see to it that you never touch the Wanderer’s craft.”
Fadey didn’t threaten, didn’t snarl, didn’t shout.
He did nothing but widen his smile, as though he knew something I did not.
“I figured you would say such things. Never fear, Lyra. I’ve already seen to it that there will be little choice in the matter.
You will do as I ask and bring me whatever you find in the Unfettered lands.
You will have no choice.” Fadey stepped back.
“You were created to be a piece of this fate, Lyra. The sooner you accept it and bend to my will, the less those you love will be harmed.”
Fadey’s laugh cut across my mind, stirring me from rest as shadows enveloped me.
I woke gasping, Roark’s arms holding me close. He cupped one side of my cheek. Nightmare?
Furs and blankets across the cot were askew, my hair was in tangles, and my breaths were sharp. The way Roark held me half underneath him, I took a guess that I’d been thrashing. A dream. It’d been a terrible dream.
My shoulders slumped in relief, and I buried my face against the steady thrum of Roark’s heartbeat. He stroked my back. All right?
I nodded, never lifting my brow from his chest. “I simply want to find what your brother hid and destroy it.”
If we destroyed Nivek’s shard, Fadey would never have all the pieces. One by one, I would ruin every shard, every burial mound, whatever power held the lost craft of the Wanderer’s bloodline.
I would do it as the dark melder chased us until, at last, we turned our blades and destroyed him.