Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
Zander stepped away from the throne and came straight to me, the distance between us closing in three long strides. His hands slid around my waist, pulling me flush against him, his warmth chasing away the lingering chill from the assassin’s attack.
“I don’t want the throne,” he said, his voice low and certain. “I only want you.”
The words tightened something in my chest, and I almost didn’t dare ask, but I did, anyway. “Is there a reason you can’t have both?”
His gaze softened, though the weight in it was still there. “There is nothing that can keep me from you. But being king will make our life so much more complicated.”
My pulse jumped. “You mean… you won’t choose another if you’re forced to be king? I’m a commoner…”
One corner of his mouth lifted, but there was no humor in it.
“We both know that isn’t true. You are the granddaughter of the Blood King.
He may have turned dark, but he is still fae royalty.
But even if you were a simple girl from the Order…
” His thumb brushed along my cheekbone. “…you are my girl. And no title will ever change that.”
My heart was a storm in my chest as I rose onto my toes and kissed him—slow at first, then deeper, until the world beyond his arms ceased to exist.
Our kiss deepened until it was no longer gentle but fierce, both of us clutching at each other as if the air itself had turned scarce.
His hands tangled in my hair, mine fisting in the front of his tunic, pulling him closer, closer still, until breathing became secondary to the way his mouth claimed mine.
Then he broke away, just enough for our foreheads to touch, his breath ragged. “Come back to my room,” he murmured, voice hoarse with need. “I should let you rest… but I won’t. I need you. I need us.”
A shiver rippled through me at the raw honesty in his tone.
We didn’t speak after that—there was no need.
His fingers laced through mine, warm and sure, as we walked the castle’s winding halls.
My heart pounded in my ears, and every brush of his hand against mine only fueled the fire already racing through my blood.
By the time we reached his chambers, restraint was a concept I’d long since abandoned.
The door had barely clicked shut before I caught his face in my hands, dragging his mouth back to mine.
My lips crashed against his with a hunger I couldn’t control, didn’t want to control, and the sound of his low groan as his arms came around me only made me press closer, desperate to erase every inch of space between us.
We stumbled toward the bed, our mouths never parting for more than a breath.
My hands gripped the edge of his tunic and pulled, the fabric whispering over his skin before I shoved it aside, revealing the hard lines of his chest. His fingers were just as urgent, unlacing the fastenings at my sides until the leather gave way and slid from my shoulders.
Every touch, every inch of exposed skin sent sparks racing between us. His palm skimmed up my spine, and I felt my magic stir—Kaelith’s heat curling low in my belly—while his own power bled into the air like lightning before a storm. The pull was dangerous, too easy to give in to.
We both knew what would happen if we let it go unchecked.
His forehead pressed to mine, his breath ragged. “Hold it,” he murmured, though the strain in his voice said he was barely managing it himself.
“I’m trying,” I whispered back, sliding my hands over his shoulders, down the ridges of muscle in his back.
Clothing fell away in hurried, clumsy movements until we were both bare, the air between us charged and hot.
He guided me onto the bed, our legs tangling in the cool sheets as his mouth found mine again—slower this time, savoring.
My fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer until his weight pressed into me, grounding me even as our magic clawed at the edges of control.
The first thrust stole my breath, fire and lightning colliding under my skin.
We moved together in a rhythm that was more instinct than thought; the sheets twisting around us as the heat built higher and higher.
His lips trailed down my throat, over my collarbone, each kiss stoking the flames until there was nothing but the burn of him, the taste of him, the overwhelming us of it all.
When the wave finally broke, it was molten and consuming, igniting every nerve and pulling me under. He followed, shuddering against me, and we clung to each other in the aftermath—our magic slowly settling, twining together in the quiet like an unspoken vow.
I woke to the slow, steady rhythm of Zander’s breathing, our limbs tangled in a warm, heavy knot. I’d slept like the dead, the kind of deep, dreamless rest that came only after magic and passion had wrung every last ounce of strength from me.
A loud blast of a horn from somewhere outside shattered the peace. I scrambled upright, sheets pooling around my waist.
Zander rolled out of bed in one fluid motion, crossing to the window without a word. The morning light cut over the long planes of his back, down to—Mother above. My gaze lingered far too long. “Man, that ass could…”
He turned, one brow arched in silent amusement.
I slapped a hand to my mouth. “Was that my outside voice?”
His smile was slow and wicked. “It was.”
I rolled my eyes, though heat crept up my neck. “It’s not like you don’t know it.”
“I appreciate your fondness for my body,” he said, still smirking, “but I assure you the feeling is mutual.”
I tore my gaze away from him and nodded toward the window. “What’s going on outside?”
“A courier is giving Major Ledor a missive,” Zander said, scanning the Ascension Grounds. His tone shifted, sharpening. “He looks a little panicked. I think we have to go.”
I grunted, dragging myself out of bed. “Wars are hell on one’s sex life.”
Zander actually laughed. “I promise to spend a week in bed with you when this is over.”
My heart gave a treacherous flutter at that, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I grabbed my leathers from the chair and began dressing. Zander did the same, the easy banter fading as the reality of another day’s fight settled over us like armor.
We moved quickly through the castle’s corridors, the sound of our boots striking stone echoing ahead of us. The tension in Zander’s stride told me that whatever Major Ledor’s message had been, it wasn’t good.
The Ascension Grounds were alive with motion when we arrived—dragons circling overhead, their shadows sweeping over the training fields. Major Ledor stood with Remy near the center, their conversation cut short the moment they spotted us. Relief flickered over Ledor’s face as he stepped forward.
“I was just about to send for you,” he said.
“Report,” Zander commanded, his tone clipped.
“Severeth has been located,” Ledor replied without preamble.
“Where is she?” Zander’s voice was curt, a flicker of tension in his jaw.
“She is leading the fae army,” Ledor said grimly.
Zander blinked, his surprise plain. “She left Warriath?”
“Why would she do that?” I asked, scanning the skies as though I might see her myself.
Remy’s gaze tracked the dragons wheeling above us. “She got what she came for. That, and she has people in place who will do her bidding.”
Zander’s expression hardened. “The assassination attempt on Ashe proves she has more spies in this castle than we thought. It may have been her plan to kill Theron and Inderia all along.”
I shook my head. “Not Inderia. Losing an apprentice would not be part of the plan—but she didn’t think twice about sacrificing her when it served her purpose.”
Major Ledor’s voice dropped lower. “The army is closing in.”
Zander turned toward the dragons overhead, his shoulders squaring. “Then it’s time to meet them.”
I took a deep breath, knowing that our time had run out. War was upon us.
Zander’s gaze cut to Major Ledor, his voice carrying like steel through the Ascension Grounds. “Call the squads to order.”
The command rippled through the field. Ledor barked orders to the heralds, and in moments the great horns sounded—deep, rolling notes that vibrated in my chest. Dragons above broke their lazy circles, wheeling into tighter patterns as riders streamed onto the grounds.
One by one, we took our places behind our banners, the air thick with the mingled scents of leather, dragon fire, and sharpened steel.
Zander stepped up to the podium in front of the gathered forces, the morning sun cutting over his shoulders and glinting off the gold of his pauldrons. When he spoke, his voice carried across the grounds, ringing with authority.
“War is upon us,” he began, eyes sweeping the assembly.
“The enemy marches not only to claim our land but to enslave our people, our dragons, our very magic. But they will find no easy victory here. We have faced betrayal. We have buried our dead. And yet, we are still standing. Today, we take to the skies—not for glory, but for the survival of everything we hold dear.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the ranks, growing louder until it was nearly a roar.
Zander’s voice rose. “Fight for your dragons. Fight for your brothers and sisters. Fight for Warriath, and do not stop until our enemies are driven back into the shadows they crawled from.”
The cheer that followed was deafening.
“Call for your dragons. The enemy is at our feet, and war is inevitable.”
We called for our dragons in unison; the bond pulling at my chest as Kaelith’s answering roar split the air. Wings beat the wind into a frenzy as she descended, her massive form blotting out the sun for a heartbeat.
I ran a hand down her scales as I mounted, feeling her magic hum beneath my palms. Around me, the others swung into their saddles, banners snapping in the wind.
Zander gave a single nod, and with a thunder of wings, we rose together—an arrow of fire and fury aimed at the horizon.