“R-Rhyan?” I asked.
He looked up at me then, his chest heaving with such force, I thought he was hyperventilating. Then he stilled. His eyes met mine. Emerald light shone in them. Green. Not red. Green! The green I’d dreamt of, the green I’d loved since I was a girl. His eyes. Rhyan’s eyes.
“Lyr,” he sobbed, his mouth opening in a cry of agony. No fangs. They were gone. Just his straight white teeth. His features were so familiar, so like I remembered, like I knew with my heart, it felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest.
I sank to my knees before him, and took his hands in mine. The claws were gone. His fingernails were back, the pads of his fingers round and callused. And the red lines that marked his akadim body, the lines which appeared when his skin had been forced to stretch to fit his new height and size, were gone. His face … it washisface. Human, kind, beautiful. Alive. Gods. Even his scar was back, slicing through his left eyebrow, tapering off at the edge of his cheek. One eyebrow furrowed. The right one. The only one that could move.
I cupped his cheeks, his skin soft, and warm. His eyes moved back and forth watching me, taking me in, only red now in thecorners, because he was crying. Because he couldn’t stop crying. Because the tears wouldn’t stop rolling down his cheeks.
“Rhyan? Is it you? Is it really you? You’re here with me?”
“I am.” He nodded. “I’m here.”
I blinked, my chest so tight it hurt.
The cure. It worked. His soul was back.
He was alive.
“Lyr,” he sobbed, hugging me again, his arms crushing me to him. “By the Gods, Lyr. You found me.” And then his lips were on mine.
THE THIRD SCROLL: THE ARKTURION
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—thiswas kissing. This was what it was like when I was kissingRhyan. 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. Mymekarim.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 hewasthe weapon.
“We have to get out of here,” I said urgently. I was close to being drained of my magic, myRakashonimhad 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.
