22
The prayer hall was half full.
As I descended the stairs, my heartbeat increased.
When I left the last step, I let my eyes lift. They found him instantly. His dark silver hair was bound in a loose braid. As per usual, he leaned against the stone wall and tracked every step I took across the hall.
But this time, when his gaze rose to mine, Voran smirked.
The sight slowed my steps. They nearly ceased entirely as he dipped a finger into his bowl of oats.
Then placed it in his mouth.
That finger remained there until I reached my table. As I made to take a seat, he pulled it free—dragging his teeth over it as he did. Heat saturated my cheeks, worsening when he smiled wolfishly around his finger.
I gripped the table and slumped onto the end of the bench seat.
Barbed warmth squirmed in my stomach, ridding my appetite. I stared at the oats before me, yet all I could see was that wicked smile. I closed my eyes. But it only helped me to better imagine Voran sucking my arousal from his finger, exactly as he’d just demonstrated.
“I’m a princess,” Celestine said, dropping onto the bench.
My eyes opened. As she settled beside me, I fiddled with my hair. I made sure it covered the pinkened scratches on my neck and hoped she didn’t notice the blush lingering in my cheeks.
“So I’ve decided that I’ve sprained my ankle and I’m therefore unfit for well duty today,” she went on. “Instead, I’m going to do a whole lot of nothing.”
I picked up my spoon. “I like this plan.”
“It’s not a plan. It’s a promise.” She sipped her water, looking at me as she set it down. “And you’re going to do nothing with me.”
The urge to say that I was busy was almost impossible to fight. But I had no excuse. None that I could share.
Sorry, but I’m meeting with the enemy prince to teach him how to read so that his scratches at my throat may eventually disappear. But don’t worry. That’s all he wants from me in return for saving my life. There has been absolutely no kissing involved, much less any orgasms…
I stifled a groan.
Before I could decide if I might simply become unwell from exerting too much energy in the gardens, she nudged my arm with hers. “Then you can finally tell me what’s been going on with you.”
My spine steeled. Forcing a frown, I asked, “What do you mean?”
With a roll of her eyes, she dug at her oats. “Don’t even try it. Something’s changed in you, and it’s past time you tell me what it is.”
Celestine linked our arms. “It’s been quiet, which you’d think would be reassuring, but…” She gave a weary sigh.
But no news during wartime could mean there was little time to share news.
I pushed open the stairwell door. A moth fluttered free before it closed. Our boots scuffed on the winding blocks of stone, steps heavy. As we neared the archive’s north wing, Celestine halted on the last landing. She released me to look through the stained yellow window.
Cobwebs and ivy hindered the view of the rear grounds, the woods in the distance little more than swaying shadows.
Since she’d retrieved me the minute I was done in the gardens, I’d waited for this moment. Dreaded it. Yet the hours I’d spent concocting lies while failing to feed the soil now seemed wasted. I couldn’t lie.
At least, not entirely.
“I have been meaning to tell you.” I lowered my voice when it echoed. “I just didn’t know how.”
“Don’t.”
I braced.
“Let me guess…” Still staring through the window, Celestine smiled. “My brother finally found the courage to tell you he has feelings for you.”
Surprised, I retreated a step. Cold emanated from the stone at my back. “Well, he didn’t say that.” I frowned as I tried to recall what he had said. I couldn’t. So as Celestine turned to me, I shrugged. “Not really.”
A golden brow arched. “Not really?” Surveying me, she then laughed. It tinkled into the stairwell like distant notes from a harp. “Goddess. What did he do, Ayla?”
“He kissed me,” I blurted.
Her only sign of surprise was a slight widening of her blue eyes. Another laugh followed, quieter and brief. “Of course, he just went straight to kissing you.” Shaking her head, she turned back to the window. “He’s never been very good at expressing himself.”
As those words faded into the stairwell, I gnawed at my lip.
“I’m not mad,” she said. “A little miffed that you didn’t tell me, but certainly not mad. I’ve wondered about the way you’ve looked at him for some years.” Her scoff became a snicker. “I needn’t wonder about the way he looks at you. He’s the most obvious male alive.”
“He’s your brother,” I whispered. “And I’m your friend.”
“And Darcen is Meront’s friend, yet I still kissed him without hesitation.” Lifting her thin shoulders, she let them drop with a humorless laugh. “I don’t care enough to be a hypocrite. Besides”—she tossed me a sly smile—“I understand what it’s like.”
At that, I blinked, unsure what she meant.
“The forbidden nature of it,” she whispered with a playful lilt. “It’s exciting. Thrilling to so much as think about them, isn’t it?”
Agreeing with a hum, I leaned against the wall.
But it wasn’t Meront that had my thoughts fluttering like leaves in the wind. Thoughts of his dormitory. Broad daylight. My hair wrapped tight in his hand. His body bracketing mine like the wall at my back. Callused fingers touching me where no one else had.
His lips and teeth and abrasive voice at my throat.
Shivering, I spied some dirt I’d missed beneath my nails and fished it out.
Maybe I was becoming enthralled by this strange prince merely because I shouldn’t be—because it was forbidden.
Except it wasn’t just forbidden.
It was betraying my kin and kingdom.
Perhaps if it were as simple as falling for my friend’s twin brother, then I wouldn’t feel so guilty. I’d feel the thrill Celestine spoke about far differently. Excitement without a cloying dose of terror and shame.
We climbed the stairs into the northernmost wing, which overlooked the rear grounds. The same hall Voran had found and marred me in what felt like moons ago.
“What do you want to do?” Celestine asked. “I’d assumed he was sitting with Darcen during meals to be a good friend, but now that I know this, it certainly seems like you’ve been avoiding each other.”
“I don’t know what I want.” That wasn’t exactly true.
I wanted things to return to normal with Meront.
But it was only a few weeks ago that I’d wanted him to kiss me.
Remembering that princess and how she’d felt before she’d trapped herself in the dark with a wolf made it easier to smile and say, “He’s acting like a spooked horse, and I’ve had more experience with wyverns than those. ”
Celestine snorted. “He’s an idiot who has no romantic experience with females unless you include…” Her lips pinched together.
I nudged her. “It’s fine. I know there’s a plethora of females awaiting their return to his bed in Moongold.”
“Some seldom bother leaving it.” Her eyes rolled. “They’re probably hiding in his rooms at this very moment, bribing the staff to keep them from telling our parents.”
I forced a wince.
We stopped next to a bench seat but didn’t sit. “Don’t you think it’s odd to be here, kissing people…” I huffed. “And talking about kissing people while wyverns and warriors destroy one another?”
“What else are we supposed to do?” Celestine stepped closer to the window to gaze down at the courtyard. “Pray?” With a shake of her head, she blew out a breath. “If Avyshla hasn’t intervened by now, she’s not going to, and we didn’t want to come here. We were not given a choice.”
I trailed a finger along the dusty sill. “I hate not knowing what’s going on.”
“With Meront?” she asked teasingly.
I scowled at the blackened pad of my finger. “The war.”
“I know,” she sighed.
In the silence that followed, I felt it—a familiar warmth caressing my profile. Although Celestine was watching Darcen with heart-pinching longing, I tensed.
I flicked my eyes down the hall. It stretched the length of the fortress. Still, I found him instantly, cloaked within shadow at the end. Something was in his hand. A book, maybe. But he wasn’t looking at it.
Those dark eyes were attached to me.
Celestine finally removed her gaze from sword practice and sent it down the hall.
I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but she spoke first. Her brows sank over her narrowing eyes. “Is that…” Nose scrunching, she retreated a step from the window. “Menacing Mother, it’s him.”
“Who?”
She looked back at the window. So low I could barely hear it, she whispered, “Don’t look. It will make it obvious we’re talking about him. But Raxon’s claws lurks near the west wing entry.”
I squeezed the hem of my tunic. “He doesn’t strike me as the type to care about talk.”
“True,” she murmured. “I wonder how long he’s been there.” Her arm brushed mine as she feigned shivering. “The way he slinks around this place unseen makes me push a chair beneath my door handle each night.”
Remembering Voran ruining the lock on my door and entering my room with frightening ease, I was tempted to laugh. “Doubt that would stop him. But he’s been here for nearly a moon and has yet to do anything horrid, so I think we’ll be fine.”
“Ayla,” Celestine admonished. “He could be biding his time. Don’t get careless. You, of all people, should—”
The door to the stairwell squeaked open, causing Celestine to jump.
I did laugh then, and tried to smother it by coughing when Priestess Renisha caught sight of us. With a boom, the door shut behind her. Her blue robes gaped at the sleeves as she set her hands on her hips. “Princess.”
Celestine gave the priestess her most endearing smile. “Which one, Priestess Renisha?”
She half rolled her brown eyes. “Don’t even try it.” Gesturing to the door, the priestess said, “The well awaits.”
“But my ankle.”
“That you’re standing on?” A slim brow rose. “That you climbed several flights of stairs on?”
Contrite, Celestine wrung her hands before her. “Ayla helped me.”
Priestess Renisha made a comical face. “And does Princess Ayla also wish to help you with your duties, then?”
Celestine batted her lashes at me.
Again, I laughed.
She groaned and dragged her feet toward the priestess, who served me a stern look before glowering at Celestine.
I needn’t have checked to know that Voran remained at the end of the hall. As I passed the ceiling-tall shelves drowning in daylight from the windows opposite them, I felt his attention like another puddle of sunshine.
But I kept my eyes on the stone floor. I stepped into each pool of sunshine as if playing stoneskip—afraid of falling out of the shaded lines.
When I drew closer, I let my gaze lift. Just enough to see that he leaned against the wall, ankles crossed and holding the book of short fables.
Down the flight of stairs ahead, the west wing was alive with chatter. Behind me, down the hall, Celestine ceased arguing with Priestess Renisha and followed her into the stairwell.
So I slowed. I waited for those midnight eyes to leave the book and meet mine. Waited for him to say something. To straighten.
He gave me nothing.
Only when he passed my table at dinner did he finally acknowledge me with a low, “Beware the dark, little bird.”