Chapter 39 Rhea
Rhea
Islip out of bed and leave the infirmary, wincing as my shoulder protests, though it already feels much better than this morning. Sandtide applied her Tide magic all night, increasing blood flow to the wound, and it worked wonders.
The fort sleeps as I focus my power, wind swirling beneath my feet. The Vortex Lift launches me from the courtyard over the wall.
I land in the grass, grateful for the silence around Fort Ashmire. The clearing waits ahead—and with it—answers about Tahranis, Heratrix, and this Omneira business, I hope.
“Going somewhere, Wyndward?”
I freeze mid-step. Vaylen leans against a tree at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed over his chest, looking annoyingly composed for this ungodly hour. His mouth quirks up in that half-smile that still makes my stomach flip despite everything.
Zephyros swoops down from above, his shape gleaming in the pre-dawn light. He hovers, assessing the situation, then banks away with an exasperated mental sigh.
—I will return when you have sorted things out with your mate.
—He’s not my— But Zephyros is already gone, the traitorous lizard.
“Looks like your dragon just abandoned you,” Vaylen says, pushing off from the tree. “Smart creature.”
I stride toward him, stopping close enough to smell the pine scent clinging to his uniform. “Stay out of my business, Stormsong.”
“As long as you’re part of the Sky Order, everything you do is my business.” His eyes hold mine, unflinching. “Especially when you’re sneaking out with an injured shoulder after nearly being abducted by Screechclaws.” He taps the insignia on his chest. “High Prime, remember?”
“I just need a moment with Zephyros,” I say, trying to keep my voice level. “You can allow that much at least.”
Vaylen’s eyebrows shoot up. “Based on what? You think I owe you something for some reason?”
Heat rises in my chest, searing my veins. “Get out of my way.”
When he doesn’t move, I shove him hard in the chest. He barely rocks back on his heels, solid as a stone statue. I try to slip past, but his arm catches me around the waist.
“You’re not going anywhere until—“
I twist in his grip and slam my knee toward his groin. He blocks with his thigh just in time, his face hardening.
“So that’s how we’re doing this?” he growls.
I break his hold with a sharp downward strike to his forearm and dance backward. “Apparently.”
Vaylen lunges, trying to grab me again, but I duck under his reach and spin behind him. He’s fast for his size, whirling to face me before I can capitalize.
We circle each other, glaring. He’s all controlled power, while I’m spring-loaded tension ready to snap.
“You’re injured,” he says. “Don’t make this worse.”
I laugh. “Worried about hurting me, High Prime? You should be worried about yourself.”
I feint right, then dive left, but he anticipates the move. His arms wrap around me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. My injured shoulder protests.
“Yield,” he mutters in my ear, his breath hot against my neck, his body hard against mine.
Instead, I throw my head back, connecting with his face. He grunts but doesn’t let go. I stomp on his instep, then hook my ankle behind his knee and push backward with all my weight.
We tumble to the ground together. I roll away, springing to my feet while he’s still recovering. Blood trickles from his nose.
“Looks like I can still surprise you,” I taunt.
He wipes the blood with the back of his hand. “You always could.”
When he rises, I’m ready. He charges, but I sidestep and use his momentum to send him stumbling past. He recovers quickly, spinning to block my escape route again.
We’re both breathing hard now, crouched and ready to attack or defend.
“This is ridiculous,” he says. “We’re on the same side.”
“Are we? Maybe I’m a traitor.”
His eyes flash. “I would never believe that.”
I lunge, aiming a strike at his throat that he blocks, then counters, grabbing for my wrist, but I twist away. My foot finds a slick patch of grass, and I stumble. Vaylen sees his opening and tackles me to the ground, pinning me beneath him, careful of my injured shoulder despite everything.
Our faces are inches apart, both of us panting. His weight presses me into the cool earth, his hands gripping my wrists above my head.
“Get off me,” I hiss, though my body betrays me with a pulse of desire.
“Not until you tell me what you’re really doing out here,” he says, his eyes boring into mine.
I struggle against his grip, but all I accomplish is feeling the length of his body rub against mine. His hardness grows against my abdomen, and I freeze, suddenly aware of every inch where we touch.
Vaylen’s breathing becomes ragged. “Stop wiggling so much, Rhealyn, unless...”
“Unless what?” I demand, my voice barely more than a whisper.
His knee drives between my legs, spreading them apart as he settles his weight more firmly against me. The hard length of him presses against my core, sending a bolt of heat straight through me.
“Is this answer enough?” His voice drops low, husky. “You’ve always had that effect on me.”
Our eyes lock, and I can’t look away. The anger in his gaze has transformed into something darker, hungrier. My body responds traitorously, heart hammering against my ribs. I hate how much I want him.
Vaylen lowers his mouth toward mine, his lips parting slightly. At the last moment, I turn my face to the side, denying him the kiss my body craves.
He sighs, frustration vibrating through him. “You’re impossible.”
“I never claimed to be easy,” I shoot back, though my voice lacks its usual edge.
The weight of him, the heat between us… it’s maddening. Part of me wants to wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer. Another part wants to knee him in the groin and run.
Instead, I lie perfectly still, afraid that any movement will betray how much I want him. How much I miss him. How much I fear that I may hurt him again.
“Why don’t you trust me?” Vaylen’s voice cracks, his grip on my wrists loosening. “What else do I need to do? I searched for you for months. I refused to believe you were dead when everyone else gave up.”
His weight shifts slightly, but he doesn’t move off me. His eyes—Goddess, those beautiful blue eyes—hold such raw frustration that I have to close my eyes.
“I can’t—“ I begin.
“I’ll do anything you ask of me—“
“Then leave me alone,” I snap, meeting his gaze again.
“Except that.” His jaw tightens. “I won’t leave you to deal with whatever is happening all by yourself. I love you too much for that.”
His matter-of-fact tone steals my breath away. Love. Such a simple word for such a complicated thing. It’s this love that will tear him apart if it turns out I betrayed him willingly.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, my throat tight. “What if when my memories return I discover I’m not the same person.”
“I don’t care.”
As if unable to help himself, Vaylen leans down and presses his lips to my jaw. My breath catches as he trails kisses down my neck, each touch burning like a brand.
“I’m utterly yours, Rhealyn,” he murmurs against my skin. “I have no will of my own. I tried but I can’t stay away from you.”
My body arches involuntarily, seeking more contact. Wind whips around us, stirred by my emotions. I could push him away with my power—I should—but instead my hands, now free, slide into his hair, holding him closer.
“I’m afraid,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again. Break your heart when everything comes back to me.”
Vaylen’s thumb traces my cheekbone, his touch gentle despite the fire between us. “It’s possible,” he admits, his eyes never leaving mine. “You’ve broken my heart more than once already.”
The words sting, but his voice holds no accusation.
“But you’ve also put it back together,” he continues. “Every time. Sometimes better than it was before.”
My chest tightens, breath coming shallow. “How can you still want this? Want me?”
“I’m yours,” he says simply. “Yours to be remade into whatever you need.”
I shake my head, pushing against his chest. “That’s not fair. You shouldn’t give yourself so utterly to anyone. Especially not me.”
A laugh escapes him, rough and real. “Since when do you think I have a choice?”
Those words—so honest, so bare—slice through the last of my defenses. The crack Phoebe created in my fortress expands, growing so wide it all falls apart.
I grab his face between my hands and pull him down to me. Our lips crash together, desperate and hungry. The kiss deepens instantly, his tongue seeking mine as a groan rumbles through his chest. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, closer.
Wind whips around us, stirred by my power responding to the storm inside me. Leaves and grass swirl in a vortex that shields us from the world. Nothing exists but this—his mouth on mine, his body pressed against me, the taste of him filling my senses.
I pour everything into the kiss—my fear, my longing, my uncertainty. And he takes it all, giving back nothing but acceptance and desire so fierce it makes me tremble.
When we finally break apart, gasping for air, I see the truth in his eyes. There’s no hiding from this, from him. Whatever I am, whatever I’ve done, Vaylen Stormsong is entirely mine.
His hands work quickly, unfastening my leathers with practiced fingers. My own fumble at his uniform, tearing at clasps and buttons, urgent and graceless. I need to feel his skin against mine, need to erase the distance between us with heat and touch and breath.
His hands slide beneath my loosened jacket to cup my breasts. I arch into his touch with a gasp as his thumbs brush over my nipples. My shoulder throbs dully, but I ignore it. The pain is nothing compared to the need building inside me.
Wind swirls around us, tightening our cocoon of privacy as clothing gives way to bare skin.
Every inch of him revealed is a feast for my starving senses—the broad planes of his chest, the hard muscles of his stomach, the trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.
Those powerful dragon wings tattooed on his chest and spanning to his shoulders.
The chain with my mother’s ring dangles from his neck, and I love that he wears it.
I reach for him, wrapping my fingers around his length when he’s finally, gloriously naked above me. His sharp intake of breath sends a thrill through me. I stroke him slowly, savoring the velvet hardness, the way his eyes darken with each movement of my hand.
“Rhea,” he groans, the shortened version of my name falling from his lips like a prayer. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Not yet,” I whisper, guiding him between my thighs. “Not before this.”
When he finally pushes inside me, I cry out, clutching at his biceps.
The fullness, the stretch, the perfect pressure…
it’s everything I’ve been missing, everything I’ve tried to deny myself.
Vaylen’s forehead presses against mine as he holds still, giving me time to adjust, his breath ragged against my lips.
“Move,” I command, digging my heels into the small of his back. “Damn you, Stormsong, move.”
He does, pulling back only to thrust forward again, setting a rhythm that steals my breath.
Each stroke drives me higher, pleasure coiling tight at my core.
His hands grip my hips, angling me perfectly as he whispers filthy, beautiful things against my ear.
How much he’s missed me, how good I feel, how wet I am for him, how he’s dreamed of this for months on end.
My power responds to my passion, wind lifting us slightly from the ground with each thrust, cradling us in a cushion of air. Vaylen’s eyes widen in surprise before darkening with renewed desire.
He drives deeper into me, claiming me completely. I hook one leg higher around his waist, gasping as he hits that perfect spot inside me. My injured shoulder forgotten, I arch up to meet each powerful thrust.
“Look at me,” Vaylen commands, his voice husky with need.
I open my eyes to find his intense blue gaze locked on mine. The raw emotion there—desire, possession, vulnerability—steals my breath more effectively than his body moving inside mine.
“Don’t you dare look away,” he growls, punctuating each word with a thrust that sends sparks shooting through me. “I want to see you come undone.”
I dig my nails into his forearms, leaving crescent marks on his skin. “Make me,” I challenge, my voice breaking as pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.
His rhythm falters just for a moment before he captures my mouth in a bruising kiss. One hand slides between us, finding the sensitive bud at my center and circling with perfect pressure.
“Come for me, Rhealyn,” he whispers against my lips. “Now.”
My body obeys instantly, clenching around him as waves of pleasure crash through me. The wind cocoon contracts violently, leaves and grass swirling faster as I cry out his name into the dawn air.
Vaylen follows me over the edge with a guttural groan, his hips jerking erratically as he empties himself deep inside me. For those perfect moments, we’re one being—no secrets, no fears, no missing memories between us.
He pulls out, and we lie tangled together, my back against Vaylen’s chest as his arms encircle me. Satisfaction hums through my body, muscles loose and warm beneath his touch.
“I’d forgotten what this feels like,” I whisper, tracing the veins on his forearm, and the scratches I left there.
But even as contentment wraps around me like a blanket, something dark lurks at the edges of my mind. The King’s orders. The sleeping dragon beneath stone. The eggs. I haven’t told Vaylen about any of it.
Goddess! What if I became someone else while I was gone? What if whoever that is would have willingly allied with Tahranis and Craven Stonefall? Two men that every instinct tells me I shouldn’t trust. What if that is really my destiny for the good of Embernia?
I press closer to Vaylen, stealing his warmth while I can. Sometimes pleasure is just another way to hide from the truth.