16. Raea
Raea
My arms ache with another clash of our swords, and I realize with satisfaction that the guard Professor Ainslyn and Ezra have selected for me to train with today is actually struggling.
We rebound, me taking a moment to circle him and catch my breath.
Channeling my grief is the only way to keep from being consumed by it.
Every clash of steel is a scream I’m not allowed to let out.
I found myself wandering the grounds earlier this morning and ended up at Kuron’s rooms. I nearly buckled when I found another Regil coming out of them.
The sight of a new Regil exiting his quarters didn't just hurt; it felt like a betrayal of his memory.
Of course, she had no idea. When she saw me, she bowed and took off for her shift.
Add that to the pain of missing Ryker—physically and spiritually—and starting my cycle today…well, I’ve been one big ball of emotions. And we don’t need my emotions. We are preparing for war.
I grunt as I bring the sword down on him, making him stumble. For minutes, there’s only the back and forth, the clang of metal on metal, and my own heartbeat threatening to jump out of my chest.
“Enough!” Ezra barks from the sideline, but I don’t stop, and when the guard realizes I’m not going to, he jumps aside, unsure if he should defend himself or not. His forfeit only adds to my growing irritation, my anger. It’s the only thing holding back all the other emotions I can’t show.
I’m the godsdamn princess, and I cannot be weak.
“Fight me!” I scream through my blurry eyes.
He glances at Ezra once before he brings his sword up to meet mine. I don’t have time for coddling. I need to prepare. I need to push myself. I need to be who everyone says that I am.
The air around me shatters, ripples of iridescent light washing over the training pit before I hear his voice. Relief hits me so hard my knees wobble.
The guard swings for my stomach, forcing me to jump back again.
Then he’s there.
“Mind if I step in?” Ryker asks the guard.
I stumble toward him, relief and happiness flooding me all at once.
His dark hair is windswept and perfectly tousled by his hands.
The dark navy of his trousers brings out the sapphire of his eyes.
He’s wearing a crisp black top, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the octopus tattoo winding down his left arm.
I’m nearly to him when he brings a sword between us, holding me back.
“Miss me?” he croons.
The words in my mind have fled, and all I can think is how badly I want to feel his mouth on mine. He swings the sword around, testing the weight, uncaring that his polished shoes are sinking further into the dirty sand.
“How?” It’s all that tumbles from my mouth.
Eloquent.
Gods, he always makes me tongue-tied.
There are still days when I’m not sure he’s even really mine, because how could he be? He looks perfect, and I’m a blood-stained, grief-stricken wreck. I’ve never wanted to crawl to someone more than I do right now.
“Soraea, love, why are you out here? It’s nearly dinner, and I do believe Ezra said stop.”
There’s a sparkle to his eye as he says it, and I realize he’s distracting me. He knows exactly why I’m out here. Besides, why shouldn’t I be? It’s better than wandering the halls waiting for something to happen.
Professor Ainslyn has been here two days already and has kept me busy in the training rings between meetings. He’s supposed to be helping me learn to control my magic.
I feel like I’ve been locked away in the palace with nothing to do other than eat, sleep, train, and sit with my thoughts. And those thoughts have been too dark as of late.
Last night I dreamed of her again. The version of me with the silvery hair and black painted eyes. It was harmless, but it was taunting, images of her appearing on the edges with a snake-like smile.
Ryker steps around me, sword raised between us.
“You know why. And I don’t have to answer to him.”
I can feel Ezra’s eyeroll from here.
Ryker’s body heat wraps around me from behind as I feel his front brush my back.
He leans down, his mouth hovering above my ear.
“Two choices, Soraea,” he murmurs, his breath a hot caress against my ear.
“We go inside, wash up, and endure a formal dinner with the crowns. Or you beat me right here, and we vanish for the rest of the night.” He presses a soft kiss to my neck, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. “You choose.”
My response comes with the raising of my sword as I spin out of his proximity. “You didn’t answer my question,” I say as I bring my blade down.
He barely raises his in time. Shocked and amused, he takes a step back, strolling around the pit.
I swear the arrogance is both infuriating and attractive.
I can’t get distracted, though. I want to win this round, and then I’m going to take him to my rooms where I want to feel his mouth all over me.
Steel rings against steel as Ryker’s blade catches mine, the impact rattling up my arm. He steps back with infuriating ease, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “Careful, Princess. You’re letting your emotions lead again.”
“I’m letting my motivation lead,” I snap, lunging forward. “How are you here?”
He pivots, blocking my strike with a lazy twist of his wrist. “Ah, yes. The noble cause of avoiding dinner with your parents. And I took a transport, obviously.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.” I bare my teeth. “If I win, you stay with me tonight.”
His brows lift. “Bold strategy.”
I swing harder.
He parries, spinning me enough that my balance wavers. “But you’re forgetting one crucial thing.”
“And what’s that?”
He leans in, voice low. “You’re terrible when you’re distracted.”
I shove him back and attack again, forcing him to retreat this time. Our blades clash in a rapid rhythm, sparks flaring as we circle each other. “You’re the one doing the distracting,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Is it working?”
Unfortunately. But gods, just him existing is distracting.
He moves faster, pushing me into defense. My arms burn, breath coming in sharp, but I refuse to yield. With a sudden twist, I lock our swords together, the metal crossed between us. We’re frozen in a stalemate—faces inches apart, chests rising in sync.
His grin softens. “Looks like we’re evenly matched.” In more ways than one.
I glance around—and freeze. The training yard is empty. No guards. No Ezra barking orders. Only us.
My gaze snaps back to Ryker’s. “What did you do?”
His eyes darken with amusement. “Let’s just say Ezra owes me.”
The air shifts, becoming heavy and charged. My pulse thunders in my ears.
“Well?” he murmurs. “What’s your move, Princess?” His lips are so close, and his scent wraps around me, healing the dark, broken pieces of me.
I drop my blade. His sword clatters to the stone a heartbeat later. And then he’s pulling me in, his mouth crashing against mine with a heat that steals the air from my lungs. I fist his pressed shirt, every nerve lighting up as the kiss deepens—desperate, consuming, anything but restrained.
His hands cup my ass, lifting me as I wrap my ankles around his waist. His tongue moves with mine, refamiliarizing even though it’s been a week. My hands wrap around his neck, feeling his warm skin. I pull myself closer, having the strange desire to crawl inside of him and never leave.
As if that were even possible.
When we finally part, breathless, his forehead rests against mine.
“So,” he murmurs. “Dinner with your parents or…?”
I smile. “Stalemate.”
His answering grin is wicked. “I’ll take it.”
I lead Ryker through the halls of the palace, annoyed at every person who stands in our way. Guards bow, members of the court welcoming him to Kyrr, some of them whispering and gossiping as I lead him to the family wing.
“I’ve been given the rooms across from yours,” he says as we approach.
Aksel is standing guard in my hall and dips his chin as I say hello. We inform him we’ll be preoccupied the rest of the evening, earning a subtle twitch of his lips.
The doors to my chamber close as Ryker shoves me against them, his mouth consuming mine once more.
“Need…to…shower,” I say between kisses.
His mouth moves to my neck, kissing softly as he says, “I could always lick you clean.”
I laugh, shoving him away. “No thanks.”
I find Mera humming to herself, the shower already steaming with my favorite oils.
I shower quickly, taking extra care to wash certain areas as she pulls clothes for me.
She chooses a green cotton dress that billows around me and brushes the tops of my feet.
The open back is daringly low and absolutely perfect.
She dries my hair as I moisturize my body.
When I exit my bathing chamber, I find Ryker lounging on my bed, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, not a care in the world. His eyes are closed, but when I draw near to him, he smiles. “You smell delicious.”
I smile and crawl onto the bed beside him. I take in the hard lines of his face, the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “Are you tired?”
He’s silent for a long moment. “Malaya is too quiet without you,” he confesses, pulling me into the dip of his chest. The dark circles under his eyes aren't from exhaustion—they're from the same fear that’s been stalking me.
It’s nearing morning on Malaya right now, and I realize he’s been up this whole time.
Guilt settles over me, and I decide that I want nothing more than for him to get good rest. Even though I’m not tired, I close my eyes, letting the feeling of wholeness and safety wash over me.
Somewhere deep within me, our Bond settles.
Like a tuning fork of an instrument vibrating.
I hadn’t realized how off it had been.
He brushes a kiss to the top of my head. “This isn’t how I planned on spending the evening.”
I smile. “Go to sleep, Prince. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He shuffles us, removing his shirt, kicking off his shoes and pants until he’s in nothing but his boxer-briefs. I pull back the covers, crawling in beside him.
It takes minutes before his breathing deepens, his features grow softer.
Once I know he’s truly asleep, I slip out of bed, gobbling down the plate of food that must have arrived when I was in the shower, and then prop open the doors to the terrace.
The night sky is clear and endless. Somewhere up there, the truth of what is to come is lying in wait.
Someday soon, I’ll have to face all of it. Face an army made of nightmares.
I find my Prism, settle onto a settee, and message Elison. Minutes later, there's a quiet knock, and the books I requested are waiting at the door. I say goodnight to Aksel before I close the doors.
I spend my evening on the settee, reading and catching up until I’m so tired that the words blur together.
I slip back under the covers, Ryker’s heat shielding against the chill of the room.
That scent of ocean storms and citrus groves wraps me in safety.
But as I close my eyes, the words from Elison’s texts bleed into my vision.
Yet in the wake of dawn, a shadowed crown will rise—not in harmony, but in hunger.