The backs of my eyes burned. Gods. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d called me that.
His grip on me tightened then, possessive, claiming. “I fucking miss you,” he growled. I could feel his breath hot against my skin, leaving shivers low in my belly as he grazed his nose against my jaw, finding the crook of my shoulder on my other side. He pulled me closer, inhaling again.
“Rhyan,” I panted. “I miss you, too. So fucking much.”
His forehead pressed against mine, his lips just inches from my own. I could smell the honey of the mead he’d drunk on his breath. His eyes were screwed shut as he kissed the corner of my mouth.
“You say the word, Lyr, you give the command, the order, and I’ll take you from here. I’ll take you away. Nothing has changed. I’m still sworn to protect you, to follow you.”
My lips trembled, every part of me wanting to melt into his touch, to say yes, to scream it. “You know we can’t,” I said, blinking back tears. “Not yet. I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he said sadly, and kissed my forehead. “Fuck.”
“Rhyan?”
“It’s okay, Lyr. It’s okay. But I had to say it. Had to ask. At least, once more.”
My eyes watered. “I hate this,” I cried. “I hate not talking to you. Not holding you.”
“I know.” He sucked in a shaky breath, and smoothed my hair behind my ear, his fingers tracing the curve of my lobe. “I feel like … like I lost you, even though you’re right in front of me.”
I shuddered, hating to know he felt that way.
His jaw worked as he composed himself. “We’ll find a way,” he said. “We leave in a day for the capital. It’s almost over. Then we’ll figure it out. We’ll find our way back to each other.”
Another set of footsteps echoed in the hall and Rhyan pulled back. I felt the loss of his touch everywhere, like I’d been stripped of my clothes and left out in the cold.
“Promise?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
He lifted the cloak of his soturion hood over his head, his face vanishing into the darkness as he stepped into the shadows. A torch flickered overhead, suddenly weakening. It was my aura—my emotions causing it to blink out.
“I swear,” he said. Then he was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY
RHYAN
I laid in my bed back at Seathorne—my last night here. My last night here ever, if I got my way. I’d been unable to sleep after reviewing all the scrolls I’d borrowed from the library. They filled what space remained on the blankets beside me. I’d been poring over them, over everything I could find, everything the librarian had sent me, again and again. I’d been at it for weeks, since the night of our first meeting. I’d read over every text on forbidden magic, on ancient magic, on God magic. And I couldn’t find anything that remotely described what Mercurial had told me. I still for the life of me didn’t understand what Asherah and Auriel had done to weaken Shiviel. To weaken him to the point that he was altered even now as Kane.
More importantly, I still didn’t understand how that had affected Asherah. How it was tied intoRakashonim.And how I was going to help Lyr now. Every day, I grew more worried. The closer we got to the Valabellum, the more likely she was to call on it again. If we ran into trouble, if we couldn’t get to Jules, or if one of us were hurt, nothing would stop her. I knew that too well.
I’d figured out how to protect her here from my father. I couldn’t stop Kane from touching her, from their dances,from the bruises I knew he left on her arms and shoulders, but the threat I’d made had been enough to keep it contained to that. Contained to the dance floor of our Godsdamned engagement balls. It was bad enough as it was, but I knew all too well, it could have been so much worse.
But once we were in Numeria, I had no idea how to keep her safe. Especially from herself.
“Fuck.” I pushed the scrolls off the bed, and stood, moving to the window. It was the middle of the night, the sky black, a small drizzle of rain hitting the glass. It was officially too warm for snow.
I traced a raindrop with my finger down the pane, and stared through the window.
Growing up in the bedroom Lyr occupied now, I could see the endless horizon of mountains. But from this new room I’d been shoved into, I had a view of the edge of Gryphon’s Mount. Of the white seraphim. And unlike my old room, with its windows that opened to a drop down the mountain, this one was above a small patch of land. Land leading to the statue. To Asherah’s tomb. The tomb that had haunted my dreams since we opened it.
This was my last night near it—my last night to see it again. And if it stirred memories for me when I went to it that night with Lyriana, maybe it would do it again, maybe I could learn what I needed to help Lyr. To save her.
My fingers itched. My whole fucking body did. I was bound. But … I wasn’t that far from the landing. I could jump. Peeking down, I mentally calculated the distance. My legs still worked fine. I could do it. I didn’t need my vorakh.
Gripping the bottom of the window, I pulled, and with a grunt, it slowly began to lift, leaving behind a creaking sound loud enough to reach the City of Harton.
I froze, listening for any signs of movement in the hall. If my night escort didn’t hear that, it was a fucking miracle. I stilled for another moment, my ears perked, but the only sound now came from the rain and the faint squawking of the gryphons on patrol.
