Chapter 29
AMAIA
Alaryk didn’t return to his dwelling until after I’d already washed off the day and was tucked into the lounge area, the fire in the hearth already lit.
I had already gobbled up my dinner at the hatchery—Syris having made her stew again—but was picking at a tray of food I’d found rummaging through Alaryk’s own stores.
A soft, pillowy loaf of seeded bread, dried meats, and cured cheeses.
That was how he found me when he came trudging through the door. I tried to ignore the way my heart leaped at the sight of him.
His eyes were assessing when they met mine. I drew my knees up to my chest, popping another morsel of dried meat into my mouth as I regarded him, wondering who would break the silence first.
And how.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to come straight over so we could finish what we’d started in the hatchery earlier. No one was here to interrupt us. No one would hear my moans and gasps.
Alaryk undressed, shrugging off his vest. His tunic dropped to the ground as he approached me, displaying his broad, bare chest, the glint of metal through his nipples. I swallowed hard as his hands began untying his laces. Anticipation rose, making my nails curl into my palms.
When he reached me, his laces were undone, the tip of his cock head peeking out from the waistline of his leather trews, but he didn’t move to push them down. Instead, he stayed standing above me in the lounge, and his thumb came to my lips, rubbing against the soft flesh.
My tongue darted out, and I heard his sharp intake of breath when I nipped gently at the calloused flesh, my eyes never leaving his. A silent invitation.
But strangely, he didn’t initiate anything beyond that.
Ever so quietly, he told me, “My council and I have decided it’s best for Brune and Nevin to be sent back to Dakkar. Before Ryak’s execution in two days.”
I pulled away.
I processed that new information, though a large part of me wasn’t surprised by it. Not in the slightest.
“And what about me?”
“Your place here was never in question,” Alaryk replied. “They’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
My brow furrowed. My shoulders slumped. “So soon.”
Part of me was relieved. Because without Nevin, with Ryak’s execution…the Dothikkar’s mission had failed. My brother would be safe, wouldn’t he?
But the Heartstone Accords would likely fail between our two nations. Perhaps no more Dakkari would be sent to Karak. What then? Would a peace even be possible? Or would it only further motivate the Dothikkar to believe the Karag were our enemies?
Alaryk sank down beside me, stretching his longs legs out, heat radiating off his chest.
“It’s for the best, Amaia,” he finally said.
A tiny bubble of unease spread through me.
I glanced over at him, my gaze gliding over his bare chest, his half-unlaced pants. The perfect distraction. Maybe he’d meant it to be one as he’d broken the news of his decision.
When my fingers trailed to his thigh, he cut me a look in assessment. I shifted, swinging my leg over him until I was settled in his lap. Was it selfish that I wanted his arms around me? Was it selfish to want that when they made me feel safe and protected?
He was always everything to everyone else.
A leader, cold and unyielding, the one who had to make the tough, unpopular choices, despite the consequences.
He carried the weight of Samryn’s curse on his shoulders, the weight of a war, I knew, on his shoulders, using someone he’d once loved as a weapon.
His people respected him, though it had been difficult as a Hartan boy growing up in Karak.
“I’ve never known anyone like you,” I told him softly. “I doubt I ever will again.”
His eyes flickered silver, a mere flash. Had I surprised him? But I couldn’t understand why that would be. He had to know that he was singular.
And I will miss him terribly when I have to return to Dakkar, came the certain thought.
My heart had already sunk into him. How deeply, I didn’t know.
But maybe I should leave with Brune and Nevin.
I might be able to move on with my life if I was able to salvage my heart now. Leaving him would break it, but it wasn’t too late, was it?
Then I chastised myself because there was still Samryn to consider. I wouldn’t leave him to suffer his curse. Not for anything.
Even if it frightened me how much I’d come to care for Alaryk Arn’dyne.
He must’ve seen the peculiar expression cross my face. “What is it?”
“We were never meant to meet,” I said simply, trying to keep my morose thoughts away from my tone. “If I’d had my way. It’s strange to think that now.”
“What do you mean?”
I had to tread carefully, I realized belatedly. But I could give Alaryk a half-truth, even though my belly roiled with it. I hated lying. And being here, being with him…it was the biggest lie of all.
Could I tell him? I wondered, debating for a brief moment.
I wanted to. Desperately. But there was too much I didn’t know happening in the background, in the shadows of the Dothikkar’s palace.
There was something happening I couldn’t see, something I didn’t understand yet.
I’d sensed it since we first arrived. So far away from Dothik, I wouldn’t be able to protect my family if their lives were at risk—so I had to protect them from afar.
It was safer to lie.
“My brother was meant to be here,” I confessed softly.
His head tilted as my hand skimmed his chest, the pad of my finger brushing the metal through his nipple. “You have a brother?”
“Yes, I suppose I’ve never said,” I murmured, darting a look up at him. “His name is Kiron. He’s a guardsman.”
Alaryk stiffened slightly under me. “Oh?”
“That was all he ever wanted to be,” I continued.
“We were inseparable growing up. He was my best friend. And I saw his eyes as he watched the patrols through the city. Their glittering armor. And to a boy from the Market District, living in the Dothikkar’s palace must’ve seemed like a grand adventure.
So when he came of age, he worked hard, harder than anyone else, to achieve what he wanted. Even if it broke our hearts.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed, sitting back on his thighs, my hands dropping away from him. One came up to my pendant, rubbing at the fire gem out of habit until Alaryk’s face glowed with it.
“Training is intense. You’re required to choose, essentially.
Your life…or the king. All of them swear their allegiance.
And when Kiron did the same, it was like one moment he was there, the next he was gone from our lives.
It was like a death in a way. When you spend time with someone nearly every waking moment, when you can read them as easily as you read yourself, every twitch of their face, every movement, when you can identify them from five blocks down just by the way they walk.
And then to…not. When Kiron went to training, we didn’t see him for four months straight, even though he wasn’t far.
It…it broke my heart a little. It really splintered my mother’s, though she would never say that. ”
“You felt abandoned,” Alaryk said. “You felt he chose a stranger over you, your family. That’s understandable.”
“But it’s what he always wanted,” I said.
“And as the years passed, it got easier. My mother still had a place for him at our evening meals. But I stopped looking for him walking on the streets, coming home. I started to get angry. Bitter. Then I realized it didn’t matter.
He’d made a choice. And I could also choose to not let it eat me up either.
So I forgave him instead. When we saw him again, he acted like everything was normal.
Working for the Dothikkar was all he could talk about.
With no mention of his absence. I don’t even think he knows how much he’d hurt us, but what can you do? ”
Alaryk’s brows drew down. His hand had slowly stroked up and down my back, pushing my tunic up so he could touch my bare skin. It felt wonderful, the rasp of his rough hands, calloused from dragonback.
“Anyway, it’s because of Kiron that I’m here,” I said, remembering my original point, a wry smile quirking my lips when I circled back around.
“He was meant to be in rider training with Ryak and Nevin. And…” I trailed off.
“My mother threw a fit when she found out. No Dakkari has ever survived, except for the princess. We thought it would mean his death.”
I dragged in a deep breath. Not entirely untrue.
“Kiron found out about the position in the hatchery. He said that he would stay in Dothik if I took his place here.”
Understanding dawned in Alaryk’s eyes.
“And I was angry at first, because I felt I didn’t have a choice.
I’d worked so hard in Dothik. My mrikro…
the pyroki master…I was to be his replacement when he resigned his post. A highly respected position, one I’d worked so hard for, and it was to be mine.
I would like to think that that remains when I return, but there was another strong contender for the position.
And well, a season is a long time to be away. ”
“Do you resent him for it?” Alaryk asked. “Kiron?”
Hearing him say my brother’s name was jarring. A bridge connecting my two lives—Dakkar and Karak.
“Yes,” I whispered, pressing my face against his warm neck, the confession falling like a stone from my lips. “And I feel terrible saying that out loud.”
Alaryk’s hand slid into my hair.
“But if it hadn’t happened…I would have never met you,” I pointed out, an obvious truth.
I leaned back to look in his eyes. “Or Samryn. Or experienced working in an Elthikan hatchery. Or found a dear friend in Syris. Brune. Ethrisha. Tarkosh. The truth is that…I resented my brother until I saw the Elthika land outside the East Gate in Dothik.”
Alaryk exhaled a sharp breath, one of understanding, mingled with amusement. “Were you frightened?”
“Of you,” I admitted.