Chapter 67
EVANDER
Ihave never wanted to get back to Cloud Rift more than today.
Though, seeing Aisling back to safety is important too.
I think of her as a little sister. Much like my own.
I’ve got enough—what’s one more? Though my youngest sister isn’t of academy age yet.
But being stuck in Crest Wing dealing with court politics? No, I need to get home to Cloud Rift.
The Thessari shuts behind me. Kieren has stayed behind to .
. . well, I don’t know what he thinks he can do, but I get it.
Sending their daughter through the portal by herself after another one has been destroyed .
. . Insanity. But I’ve thought them insane for a long time.
I’m glad they told us about the Firested portal, but they could have found a different way to reach us.
Not that I want the king stomping around Cloud Rift.
The time alignment of the portal hasn’t worked in my favor.
I’ve been gone longer than I would have liked.
“Raine!” I yell into the foyer. She’s upset about what the king and queen plan to do?
I’m fucking furious. I meant what I said to Raine.
I feel it in my bones—she’s ours. I’m going to mate her.
No way will I go through with a selection ball.
I’m wings over tail in love with Raine. I’m not leaving.
There’s no way. I’m not leaving her. She’s too important. Too special.
Kieren and I talked before I left him in his parents’ court.
Left him waiting for an audience like he isn’t their son.
He’s done with them too. Done with the whole process.
Finding a way to protect the citizens from Firested—we can do that without ruling.
It’s a careful untangling process, but we can make it happen.
“Raine.” I take the stairs two at a time, catapulting myself up. I knock on her door but don’t stop. I’m not respecting her space. I’m not holding back to keep from overwhelming her. Keep her from having the lightning. We’ve played coy for too long.
The door opens. I don’t need to search the room. She’s not here. Her scent of thyme and chamomile isn’t strong enough.
“Raine!” I fling myself into the bathroom and her closet.
The door to the hidden passage has been opened since I last checked it.
I pivot and head back downstairs, but when I hit the dragon’s eye foyer, unfamiliar women’s voices bounce down the hallway from the southern corridor. My brow furrows, and I run that way.
“Who are you?” Chanda, her name tag reads, asks.
“Raine’s in the collection room?” I ask, not answering her question.
“Yes, with tall, dark, and grumpy,” Ellen says, according to her tag.
I pass them and open the unlocked door. Raine’s sitting in her desk chair, her knees touching Roark’s, her hand in his.
Her eyes are swollen and red. The room reeks of her tears.
My dragon’s an asshole. He fucking loves the smell of tears but not Raine’s.
Never hers. How could he get pleasure from her tears?
There’s something shitty about his scaley ass.
Well, my ass. I’ve become overly good at compartmentalizing the shittiness of my personality by placing it on him.
“Don’t go.” I drop to my knees in front of her. “I don’t ever want you to go.”
“But—” she says.
Roark cuts her off. “I’ve already told you, Duchess.
I don’t care about ruling Crest Wing. I’ve never cared about ruling Crest Wing.
” Roark grips her hands, and I’m worried it might be too tight.
His cheeks push up and his eyebrows knit together.
“I choose you. I don’t fucking care about a marking.
I don’t care about the people of Crest Wing. ”
I side-eye him. Because, of the three of us, I thought he would be the hardest to get on board. Living in the human realm for a while is one thing. Staying Earthbound forever is a far different task.
Though, Kieren being able to control his dragon without the calming effect of the energy from the portal?
That might be an even tougher sell than him not taking over his parents’ throne.
But fuck them. Fuck them for trying to control us.
Fuck them for using Aisling as a chess piece instead of a daughter.
This isn’t the first time I’m proud to have been born in Elderglen.
“I’ve never cared about being in control of anyone but myself.
And they’re trying to take that away from us.
I don’t want a mating ball, Raine. I’m so glad you’re here.
” I take her left hand from Roark. “I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.
I’d be lost. Floating in a sea of nothingness for eternity. ” I kiss the top of her hand.
Overkill, Roark pushes.
Raine’s blue eyes are disbelieving as well.
“It’s not overkill,” I say, using Roark’s word out loud, “when I believe it in here.” I take her hand and place it on my chest. “Because I do. I believe it in here. Please tell me you will stay. I love you, Raine Fischer.”
“Evander.” She says it too loud and yet too soft. It’s not a confession of love back. “I . . . I’m so confused. Drawn to you, to all three of you. It’s twisting me up inside. For you to say that you would give up your realm, your crown, for me? It’s too much to take in. It’s . . .”
“Then don’t take it all in now. Because my love isn’t going to change. If it takes me the rest of the six months to convince you, I will. You have a contract. Think about how bad it would look on your CV if you left.” I laugh and wipe a tear from her cheek with my thumb. I bring it to my lips.
Roark growls.
But I suck the tear from my pad. “Raine, I need you.”
“I need you, too, Duchess.” Roark glares at me.
“Please.” I take her hand from my chest and hold it over my heart. My heart that’s threatening to leave my body if she goes. My mark is on fire. The lightning will happen. But even if it doesn’t? I need her. I inhale her scent, filling my lungs.
“I mean, I should go. It’s not right to make Kieren give up his family. His birthright.”
“Stay and let Kieren tell you what he wants.” My eyebrows shoot up.
I didn’t mean for it to come off so direct.
But that’s who I am. Direct. I kiss the side of her hand.
I’d pull her into my arms, but Roark’s holding on to the other half of her tightly and I’d risk splitting her in two like a wishbone.
Let go, he growls in my head.
You let go. I glare back at him. His glares worked the first few years of our thunder, but that that time is long passed.
Let go of her. I will comfort her. Roark narrows his eyes at me.
You couldn’t comfort a kitten by a fire with a bowl of milk on your lap, I push to him.
You couldn’t comfort a sheep in the middle of a rainstorm.
Now it’s my brow that’s knit. What?
Your arms are too scrawny.
My eyebrows rise. That’s the best you’ve got?
“What’s going on?” she asks quietly and cocks her head to me and then to him.