Chapter 39
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
Zander led me through the dimly lit halls of the dungeon with long, determined strides, the parchment still gripped tightly in my hand. The guards posted outside Remy’s cell straightened as we approached.
“Open the door,” Zander ordered.
One of the guards shifted nervously. “I… I’m under orders not to release him.”
Zander took a step forward, his tone dangerously calm. “Since Theron is missing and Dorian is away, whose orders are you following?”
The guard blanched, his eyes darting to the sigil stitched on Zander’s collar—the mark of the royal line. His throat bobbed in a hard swallow, and his hand shot to his keys, fumbling them into the lock. The cell door creaked open.
Remy sat on the narrow cot, hands clasped, his expression unreadable until his gaze rose to Zander.
“You must be in your glory,” he said coldly. “You were never meant to be king.”
I took a step forward, anger rising like a wave. “How can you say that? He had you released, Remy. We figured out the message was forged.”
Remy stood slowly, eyes still locked on Zander. “You figured it out now, sure.”
“We’re at war, and things will get a lot worse before they get better,” I snapped. “But you’ve always done whatever the hell you want, and somehow we’re still supposed to trust you.”
“You trusted me once,” he muttered.
“I did,” I said, voice quiet. “And now I’m giving you another chance. Don’t throw it away because you’re pissed that the crown didn’t end up where you wanted it.”
Zander’s voice cut through the tension. “Enough. We don’t have time for this. We need to find out who forged that message and why.”
Remy’s expression shifted, less anger now, more wary understanding. “Then let’s find them.”
Zander turned and started back toward the stairs, and for a moment, I hesitated. But then Remy fell into step beside me, silent. Not forgiven. Not forgotten. But for now… still one of us.
Zander’s fingers wove through mine as we left the dungeon, the message in my pocket a reminder our enemy was close.
“I’ll make sure the others know,” Remy said, pausing by the corridor that led to the barracks. “Zander is acting regent now. Most will adhere to the law.” He gave Zander a long look. “Try not to give them reason not to.”
Zander inclined his head. “Thank you.”
With a brief nod to me, Remy turned and disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.
Zander exhaled slowly, then turned to me and tugged me gently toward the west wing. “It’s late. Let’s get some rest.”
I nodded, more exhausted than I wanted to admit. The halls were quiet as we walked hand-in-hand through the castle, the torchlight flickering across his cheekbones and jaw. He looked tired too, but there was something in his expression, a quiet determination that didn’t leave room for fear.
He opened the door to his chambers and stepped aside to let me in.
Once the door clicked shut behind us, I unfastened the clasps of my jacket while Zander unbuckled his belt and dropped his armor pieces onto the bench by the hearth.
We moved in silence, familiar with each other now, the quiet between us almost comforting.
We finished undressing before he pulled back the blankets, and I climbed into the bed, the warmth of his sheets chasing the chill from my skin. He joined me a second later, drawing me into the cradle of his arms. His fingers brushed down my spine as he pressed a kiss to my temple.
I sighed, curling closer, but then his mouth found mine, and the spark that had slumbered under war and lies roared to life.
His kiss was slow at first, reverent, like he wanted to savor the moment. Then deeper, hungrier, the press of his body against mine awakening a fire I had no hope of taming.
You’re mine, the lust in his voice undeniable.
I kissed him back with every piece of me that still believed in love, in us, in the promise we hadn’t dared make aloud.
His hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, and I moaned softly against his mouth. My leg curled over his, pulling him closer. The heat between us crackled like a live wire. My body trembled under the pull of his need, my own rising to meet it.
The world outside could burn—for now, there was only this.
Only us.
Zander’s hands skimmed down my sides, reverent and sure, as if relearning the shape of me. The firelight danced across his bare skin, casting golden shadows along the ridges of his chest, the sharp lines of his jaw.
“You’re staring,” I whispered, breathless from the intensity in his eyes.
“I haven’t had the luxury.” His voice was low, rough, his thumb brushing the side of my mouth. “Every time I’ve looked at you lately, we are fighting to hold this kingdom together.”
And now?
His lips ghosted over mine. Now I want to remind you you’re more than war and blood and prophecy.
I reached for him, sliding my fingers into his hair and pulling him down to me. His mouth crashed against mine, no hesitation now, no fear. Just need. Heat. Love sharpened by longing.
I arched beneath him as his hand slid under the hem of my shirt, fingers trailing fire over my stomach.
My back lifted from the mattress, pressing closer, needing more.
The thin layer of fabric between us may as well have been steel.
I wanted his skin. All of it. I moaned when he pulled my clothes off.
My hands skimmed over his body between hurried kisses and gasped promises. His body against mine made everything else fade—the war, the kingdom, even the destiny of the Storm-born name.
“You feel like fire,” I breathed as his mouth traced down my throat, teeth grazing the hollow of my collarbone. My magic flared in response to his touch, white-blue light flickering just beneath my skin.
“And you feel like home,” he said against my breast before his lips closed over it. I gasped, fingers tightening in his hair as he worshipped me with every kiss, every touch.
When he finally settled between my thighs, his gaze met mine—Dark Fire glowing behind those midnight eyes. “Tell me you want this.”
“I want everything,” I whispered. “All of you.”
His name tore from my lips as he slid into me with slow, aching precision. The stretch, our joining, it was overwhelming. Perfect. His forehead dropped to mine as he pressed deeper, our bodies aligning like they were always meant to. Like fate had been leading us here all along.
We moved together, a rhythm older than blood and bone, matching each other breath for breath. His hand tangled in mine above my head, pinning me gently, possessively, as if to say mine without ever speaking a word.
Every thrust sent pleasure spiraling through me, igniting every nerve, every ounce of magic humming just beneath my skin. My power met his in the space between us, surging, twining, a storm barely contained.
“Zander—” I gasped, rising, unraveling.
“I’ve got you.” His voice was ragged, lips at my ear. “Let go, Ashlyn. Let me feel you.”
I shattered in his arms, his name a cry on my lips as my magic poured through me, through him, cascading like lightning through our bond. He followed me over the edge with a groan, his body tensing, then trembling with the force of it.
For a moment, the world held still.
And then he collapsed beside me, breathless, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close until our skin was pressed from shoulder to ankle.
His lips brushed my temple. “I’ll never let you go again.”
You never did, I thought, and nestled into the curve of his body, where everything, just for tonight, was safe.
Zander lay on his side, one hand tracing lazy circles along my bare spine. His breath had evened out, but I knew sleep was still a distant thing for both of us. My head rested against his chest, his heart beating steady beneath my cheek.
“We should sleep,” I whispered.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But my mind won’t stop.”
“Mine either.”
He was quiet for a beat before his voice dipped lower. “Do you think Theron could be behind it all? Our father’s poisoning, Belana’s murder, his disappearance, even Remy being set up?”
I lifted my head, propping my chin on his chest. “You’re wondering if his disappearance is a ploy. Something to frame others… draw suspicion away from himself.”
He nodded. “It’s convenient. Too convenient. The moment father names Dorian as his successor, Theron vanishes. Then Remy gets caught passing information, and Cade points at Ferrula—almost like they were ready for something to distract us.”
“And let’s not forget the ledger,” I said. “The assassin was paid by Varnari. But what if that was planted too? Something to turn attention away from whoever orchestrated all of it?”
Zander exhaled slowly, his jaw tight. “If Theron orchestrated this… if he poisoned Father, framed Remy, allowed Belana to die…”
“He didn’t just allow it. He benefited from it.” I met his gaze. “If you had married Inderia he would have secured two royal houses, maybe you...”
“I never wanted the court,” he muttered, shifting onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I still don’t.”
“But they want you,” I whispered. “The dragons, the riders, even the people. And that’s what makes you dangerous to him.”
His throat moved as he swallowed. “You think he’d try to kill me next?”
“I think,” I said carefully, “that whoever is behind this is smart. Strategic. And if Theron is the mastermind, he’s been playing this game far longer than any of us realized.”
Zander’s hand came up to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing beneath my cheekbone. “You always see the truth buried beneath the mess.”
“And you always think I’m stronger than I am,” I murmured.
He gave me a tired smile. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
I leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth before settling back against him. His arms wrapped around me again, tighter this time. Like he was afraid I’d disappear if he didn’t.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “We’ll unmask whoever’s pulling the strings.”
“Even if it’s your brother?”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Especially if it’s my brother.”
I closed my eyes against the ache in my chest. Because if that were true… neither of us would come out of this whole.