Chapter 39
thirty-nine
. . .
raea
Kellan stands, gripping the back of his chair as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.
“The reality is, there are fewer and fewer Bonds every year,” he begins.
“Kingdoms are no longer producing bloodlines with the same frequency as they once did. It’s been six decades since the last royal family had more than five kids and a decade since one had three.
Plus, the last time a royal Bonding occurred was over a century ago. ”
As he speaks, Kellan’s jaw tightens, a sign that he’s just putting it all together and attempting to keep his calm.
It’s clear he now understands the implications of this revelation just as much as we do.
“Royal bloodlines,” he continues, a sigh escaping his lips, “are renowned for producing stronger and more enduring Bonds.” His grip becomes white-knuckled.
Ryker exchanges a knowing glance with me, our silent communication growing increasingly easier with each passing day. Royal babies are becoming rarer with each generation. My parents said they struggled to conceive me for years. Queen Meganna still hasn’t been able to conceive.
“And with everyone willing to lose their Bond early,” Trysten supplies, leaning back in his chair until the front two legs are lifted from the floor.
“So what? Ryker and Raea Bond, they restore the veil, and everything goes back to normal?” Tate asks.
As if it were that simple. I feel like the answer is right in front of me, but I’m just not seeing it.
“No,” Ryker chimes in, coming to sit in front of me, his knees trapping mine in place.
The heat from his body makes the fine hair on my arms stand on end.
It would be entirely inappropriate to lean in right now and steal some of that warmth.
“The prophecy says the days are numbered. The veil was never meant to last. It bought us time.” He looks at me, keeping his gaze locked on mine.
“The birth of the firstborn will the veil be complete.” His eyes swirl, taking on an otherworldly look. “A baby.”
My heart stutters to a complete stop. A baby? Oh, my gods. They want me to have a baby…with Ryker? I mean, obviously, if we were Bonded, but—suddenly, the air in the room is not enough. I want to have sex with the man—who wouldn’t—but a baby? I haven’t gotten that far yet.
“It doesn’t say it will be fixed.” Ciara tilts her head like she does when she’s thinking.
Ryker stands in front of me, his eyes relaying an apology. He moves so slowly, pulling me from my chair and blocking the others from view. I don’t have time to respond, but the second his palm is on my waist, I collapse into his chest. It’s completely illogical, but it’s exactly what I need.
His hand strokes up and down my spine with understanding as my mind swirls, drowning out the discussion happening behind him.
It’s not hard to guess this is affecting him too.
I inhale a lungful of sandalwood and citrus notes with a hint of fresh ocean air, and my whole mind goes silent.
As if the scent alone somehow grounds me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers into my hair.
I don’t reply, but I don’t move either. I just hold onto his shirt that’s fisted in my hands and continue breathing until the prophecy and all that it entails falls away. I don’t have to worry about this. Not right now. First things first.
“Schedule our trip to the Isles,” I say to Ryker before pulling out of his arms. "We’re going to call our guards. In the meantime, Aolyn, try to figure out what your father is planning, or who that woman is. Can you go home without telling them?”
She nods.
“We all need to stay vigilant. Trysten, plan the attack with Kamden. I will feel Ryker’s presence if it’s him,” I look up at Ryker, “And in the meantime, we all pretend. Tate, Kellan, I could use another set of eyes on the books that are in the common language. Ciara, any chance you can search The Link for anything strange going on in Ateria?”
She nods, gleaming. With something for all of us to do, everyone files out of the room, heading off for lunch.
“Raea,” Ryker says.
I wait until we are alone and then walk back over to him. I sit on the console beside him, my gaze tracking the movement of my swinging feet. Why does this all feel so heavy?
“I’m sorry about all of this,” he sighs. He’s looking at the console, not me.
“Together.” If I’ve learned anything, it’s that fate has brought us together for a reason, and I don’t plan on testing it now. The prophecy doesn’t need to tell me what I already know, what I feel. Ryker will be with me every step of the way, and I won’t even have to ask.
I can’t not touch him. I slide my hand across his back and shift over so that I can rest my face on his shoulder.
He sighs and turns to come and stand in front of me so that we’re facing each other.
His hand slowly slides behind my neck, bringing me closer to his lips as he leans over me, our foreheads pressed together.
“Are you okay? I need to know you’re okay,” he whispers. His voice sounds so desperate, like it pains him to think I might not be.
“I will be." It’s the best I can give him right now.
I close that final gap and melt into him, letting our lips brush once, then twice. His grip behind my neck tightens as his mouth slants over mine, his other hand tilting my chin up to deepen the angle.
Our mouths meet again and again, heat and raw need filling every nerve ending, building to a crescendo. My lips part, and instantly, his tongue brushes mine. Claiming my mouth, his kiss promises me he is falling just as hard.
Sgya’s power radiates through us, a seamless conduit flowing between our merged forms. A flood of feelings crashes through my senses: longing, hope, desire, desperation. The same as mine, yet distinctly his.
Unlike the other night, his emotions, now a shimmering blue in my mind, are sharply defined. He wants me to love him. Tugging him closer, his palms catch on the console as our lower halves meet. He groans, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me tighter as if it still isn’t enough. It never is.
Still holding me, he shifts, settling into a chair, pulling me onto his lap, my knees bracketing him.
He holds me as if I might float away. My hands slide up his chest, tangling behind his neck, thumbs cupping his jaw.
More. The word consumes me, echoing from both of us, crowding my mind.
He groans when I lift, readjusting, seeking to deepen the impossible closeness.
Our bodies are as flush as they can be, yet it isn’t enough.
Strong arms squeeze me tighter in response, his hands splayed wide. The neckline of my dress dips barely an inch, but his mouth moves to my chest, and almost all thoughts fade except one.
“Wait,” I gasp.
Ryker pulls away quickly, holding me still pinned to his chest.
“Yes,” I breathe, my stomach fluttering. “Yes, to us.”
My smile breaks free, radiant and raw. “I don’t have sweet words or grand declarations.
But I am willing to surrender to this destiny, utterly and completely.
I want to be yours, Ry. Only yours.” Tears gather, blurring the world.
I can’t ignore my feelings anymore, and with the memories of our childhood flickering in and out like they have, I know he is who I’m meant to be with.
Sure, it’s fast. It’s terrifying how fast, but the gods chose him for me.
I’m done denying fate.
The love in his gaze is my undoing, a culmination of every desperate hope, every unspoken dream. A gasp tears from my throat as profound heat blazes along my spine, and the tether between us surges, solidifying into an immutable stone bridge.
“Are you sure?” he asks, stumbling to find the words.
Tears fall when I nod.
“Yours,” I mutter, and then the world around us disappears, and I’m only here, in this moment, with him.
Nothing else matters. I feel the walls of my Bond rippling.
I mentally stack more bricks in front of my iron gate for good measure.
My hands find his hair, and the loose strands flow between my fingers before I grip down.
My back arches into him, and he doesn’t hesitate to slide his hands down my ass, gripping me tighter, bringing me toward him.
I lean over him, deepening our kiss again.
He tastes like mint and something masculine, filling my body with a need so intense that there’s nothing beyond it.
A primal knowing settles deep in my bones: he is my other half, the one meant to claim every want, every need.
I will never desire another. I tug on his lip, my teeth dragging along the edge, eliciting a groan from him, making me smile.
“Gods,” he pulls back just enough to bury his face in my neck and inhales. “I don’t know how to wait a whole year for you.”
Something ancient, a forgotten chord, vibrates deep within my chest. When he says things like that, I know he’s slowly taking pieces of my heart for himself, claiming them like they belong to him, and maybe they should, maybe they already do.
A clarity settles over me as he holds me, breathing me in like I’m his very breath.
We’re both breathing heavily, unwilling to separate our bodies, and we stay like that for minutes, who knows, maybe more.
My stomach growls, making him chuckle, and it’s my turn to bury my face in his neck out of embarrassment.
His soft, inked skin smells of sandalwood soap and that distinctly Ryker scent.
I inhale deeply, settling further into the comfort of his embrace, feeling a sense of belonging fill a part of me deep within.
His steady breathing calms my own, and I feel the rhythm of his heart against my chest, slowing mine to match.
I untangle my fingers from his hair and reluctantly pull away, leaning back until our faces are close enough that I can run my nose along his, making him grin.
“I messed up your hair,” I giggle softly as I try to flatten it back down, but I don’t know how he does it.
A small smile tugs at his lips. “It’s fine.” This time, he kisses me slowly. “I want you to know I won’t let anything happen to you. You aren’t alone in this.” He goes back to the crook of my neck, breathing me in.
“Together,” he repeats what I said earlier.
A profound rightness settles within me, everything falling into place with astonishing speed. It’s terrifying, yet I feel ready. The moment those three words find a voice, I know he will be there, and then, forever—a promise that wraps around my heart.
I’m still straddling him in his lap, pressed into his chest in a tender embrace, his mouth to my neck, his teeth grazing a very sensitive spot, eliciting a gaspy moan when the door opens.
“There you are.”