Chapter 36
Chapter
Thirty-Six
LYRIANA
Rhyan’s hands were in my hair, his mouth crashing against mine.
We kissed feverishly, desperately, like we needed the other to breathe, like we’d suddenly picked up from the last kiss we’d ever had, racing through the woods all those weeks ago, trying to escape his father.
The kiss had been brief, cut short by the fight, and then Rhyan’s disappearance.
And now we were continuing on, as if no time had passed.
As if our parting hadn’t been real, as if we’d always been kissing. All of our life.
All of our lives.
With every kiss, every gasp, and sudden intake of breath, our bodies pressed closer together, our arms tightening around each other.
I felt like I was drinking water after thirsting for weeks, and when he cupped my chin, his tongue sweeping across my lips and dipping inside, tangling with mine, I moaned in relief.
There was nothing left of the monster who’d kissed me in the cave, nothing even close to the demon who’d used my own memories and heart against me.
The idea that I’d even considered what had happened there between us to be a kiss now felt preposterous, because there was no comparison.
This—this was kissing. This was what it was like when I was kissing Rhyan.
The soft ferocity of his lips, the way it felt like he was going to devour me, the way I wanted—needed—to become a part of him.
Even Auriel’s kiss had felt wholly different from this— it had been amazing and special on its own, but it wasn’t this.
Nothing in the universe could be compared to this.
To Rhyan. Just Rhyan. My Rhyan. My mekarim.
The way he angled my face, the way he gasped into my mouth or his fingers tightened against my flesh, the way he said my name, breathing it into me.
My chest heaved as I tried to somehow kiss him deeper, and get even closer.
I felt like I’d go mad if we parted. I needed him inside of me.
I needed to feel him, but it was more than that.
More than the intimacy of sex. I wanted to pull his entire body and soul within me, so I could carry him, so I could protect him and keep him safe.
So I could make sure no one—no one—ever touched or hurt him again.
“Gods,” he groaned. “I missed you,” he kissed me again, “so,” kiss, “much,” kiss.
“I missed you, too,” I cried.
“Lyr, Lyr,” he said. “I should have known you’d find me. That you’d save me. You told me you would.”
My promise. I’d kept my promise. But before I could say anything more, a growl, low and pained, escaped from the lips of one of the nearby akadim. Shit. Not dead. Only unconscious. And from the sound of it, not for much longer.
Rhyan had knocked out every one of my attackers to reach me. I didn’t know when the change started, but he seemed to have been acting out of his full strength and without weapons. He hadn’t been able to kill. Not one.
Another of the unconscious demons huffed through their nostrils, and yet another lying beside him began to stir, his claws making a ticking sound as they tapped together.
My heart thumped, my body tensing. Rhyan pulled back at once, his ears strained, his entire body taut and on alert.
He didn’t speak, just started to stand, immediately aware of the danger we faced.
He grabbed hold of my hands and helped me to my feet.
Automatically his hand went to his waist, as if he’d grab the hilt of his sword—but it wasn’t there.
He had no weapons on his belt, because as an akadim he was the weapon.
“We have to get out of here,” I said urgently. I was close to being drained of my magic, my Rakashonim had started failing a while ago, and I wasn’t sure what Rhyan’s strength was like at the moment, or if he was harboring any injuries I needed to look into.
“Is there somewhere safe we can go? Somewhere close?” Rhyan’s eyes narrowed as he looked around the Korterian hills in the dark, trying to take in the landscape.
We were surrounded by the shadows of the hills and dirt mounds.
Small woodland clusters lay ahead, and then east of that, the tiny town where Auriel and I had been staying.
The collapsed front cave of the Wall of the Prince lay in heaping piles of rubble behind us.
“Yes,” I said urgently. “I have a room at an inn not far from here. Just beyond the hills there’s a town.”
“I know,” he said, “It’s the last town in Korteria before—” He frowned, looking back over his shoulder at the collapsed cave.
“I remember. It’s a small inn.” He bit his bottom lip, then looked down at his body.
He was still wearing that hateful leather akadim vest—now with a hole where I’d stabbed him.
His pants were hanging low on his hips, far too big for him now, and I was pretty sure his feet were swimming in the boots he had on.
Akadim tore out of their clothing when they turned as their bodies grew.
I hadn’t considered how the reverse would leave a person swimming in their former attire.
I kneeled down again before him, pulling his foot free from each shoe. I hated the idea of him being barefoot, but there didn’t seem to be much choice. Not if we were going to get out of here quickly.
Rhyan was already undoing the laces of his pants, tightening them at the hip, and rebuckling his belt onto the smallest notch he could manage.
I looked him over, realizing he still wore the silver collar.
Another akadim huffed, and one blinked its eyes, the irises still dark in the shadows.
Too dark to show any red. We had to hurry.
“Come here,” I said, and lifted the hateful thing off his head, tossing it into the trees.
“This, too.” I reached for the vest. I didn’t want to see it again.
I didn’t want the reminder of the moment I’d had to stab him in the heart—even if it was the exact thing that brought him back to me.
Rhyan lowered his head so I could pull it off.
With him now naked from the chest up, his skin pale in the moonlight, I started grabbing the remaining weapons Auriel had been using—the ones he’d left behind.
I swallowed roughly, my heart clenching as I touched the hilts—they were still warm, like his touch had lingered behind.
I handed them to Rhyan, relieved to see that his fingers tightened instantly and instinctively around them as he tucked them into his belt.
Finally, I picked up the golden armor, unhooked the top clasps and handed it to Rhyan.
“Here. You need to wear this. It’s yours now.”
“By the Gods.” His eyes widened as he pulled it over his head. “This is it, Lyr? This is the green shard?” A faint green light began to glow from inside it, lighting up his face and arms. He took a deep breath. “This is …” he said in wonder. “It’s what we were digging up.”
“Yes. Auriel got it out. Now you can claim your shard,” I said solemnly, sheathing the red shard securely against my back. “And I have mine.”
He smiled tearfully. “You do.”
I took his hand, far too aware that another akadim had turned over and groaned. None had opened their eyes yet—a small miracle. But we needed to leave. Now.
“Follow me,” I hissed, and led him quickly away from the Wall of the Prince, toward the nearest woodlands.
“Lyr,” Rhyan said.
We’d covered a fair amount of distance. I’d been keeping a brisk, but steady pace, not trying to rush him barefoot.
“I know I don’t …” he frowned. “Don’t have my magic anymore, but—we can run. We—we should run.”
I nodded, my hand tightening around his, my heart pounding. Then we took off, our feet moving together over the hills, farther and farther away from the ruins of the cave behind us.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
We were being watched. I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see the akadim awake, or worse, giving chase.
And if not the ones Rhyan just fought, then surely the others that had escaped the wreckage of the mines.
There had to be close to a hundred hiding out here now.
I could feel it. Feel the sensations over every inch of my skin that we weren’t alone. But, yet, nothing was approaching us.
With every glance back made by me or Rhyan, every time our heads swiveled, scouting the area, trying to see through the dark and shadows of Korteria’s hills and trees—there was nothing.
My pulse raced, my stomach turning at every small sound—every gust of wind, every snap of a tree branch. But still there was nothing.
“Where are they?” I asked.
Rhyan’s mouth tightened. “I don’t know. I’d say they’re still under my command,” he flinched at his own words.
“I mean, that they knew not to come near you. And they would have never—never attacked me. Not before. But that’s clearly,” he sighed, one hand on his heart.
On the spot where I’d stabbed him. “That’s not true anymore.
” He squeezed my hand a little tighter. “I see the town. Come on.”
He sped up—nothing as fast he’d been as when he had his power. But the speed was still incredible, a pace built from years of patience, practice, and determination.
A few torches lit the tiny street at the base of the hill we raced down.
My blood pumped, my calves burning. The stressors of the night, the fight, the battles—the way I’d had to call on Rakashonim—it was all catching up to me.
But at last, our feet touched down on the road, and we sprinted down, moving through the tiny buildings all tucked neatly together.
“This way,” I told Rhyan. I pointed ahead to the inn nestled in-between two other buildings at the end of the road. A small mountain cast its silhouette in the dark behind it.
But he pulled us into a small alleyway, tucking me against the wall.
“Did you sense something?” I hissed.
Rhyan nodded slowly. “Do you still feel it?” he asked. “Like we’re being watched?”