Ryc closes the door and, crossing the room, sets my shoes upon the bar. One stands as it should, the other falls upon its side, having lost its thin heel.
“What were you thinking?” I demand, turning from the window. The warmth of the sun upon my skin is a balm I didn’t realize I needed.
He meets my gaze with lifted brows as he swings around the backside of the bar.
“You could havekilledGanus,” I say. Holding my stare, he reaches beneath the counter. “You could’ve incited a war!”
Both possibilities have ample opportunity to manifest.
Ganus may live for now, but gods know how he’ll retaliate after today. And knowing Ryc, he’ll have little reason to pull his punches a second time.
An annoyingly handsome smile spreads on his face.
“No concern for me?” he asks in a teasing drawl as he sets a pair of crystalline glasses upon the bar.
I scoff, bewildered by his question. “Of course there’s concern!” I fold my arms across my chest. “There would have been nothing I could have done to help you had things gone differently—”
Ryc laughs. “Cyran and Fenryn might beg to differ,” he counters, grinning.
I clamp my jaw shut.
“If you’re attempting to make me feel remorse, your efforts are wasted,” I retort, and he laughs again.
Shaking his head, he turns, reaching for a half-empty bottle from an upper shelf. Many lack labels and contain varying degreesof golden brown—how does one discern one from the other?
My eyes narrow. “You’re quite comfortable here.”
Ryc sets the bottle beside the glasses. “Council meetings typically take place in this room. Today was… a special circumstance.”
He uncorks the bottle and pours.
Swinging the bottle to the next glass he asks, “Are you alright?” A flash of golden eyes meet mine before vanishing beneath dark lashes.
“I’m fine.”
He chuckles.
“You didn’t sound fine,” he replies, setting the bottle aside.
What does he want me to say?
Admit I was terrified we stood on the cusp of plunging ourselves into a war where the only real victor is Vaelyn? That I wasterrifiedat the possibility oflosinghim? That I didn’t want him to fightalone?
The grip I have on my arms tightens.
“Does your ego know no bounds?” I ask, keeping my voice level, and his chuckling turns into laughter.
“My ego, little love, swells anytime you look in my direction,” he says and his playful grin near vanishes. “But hearing you scream, that pierces through me sharper than any blade.”
Despite my earlier claim, remorse finds me and strikes straight through my heart. I heave a tight sigh, tearing my gaze from his.
“I have gone from being one of the most feared creatures in the hells to harmless,” I say, my voice quiet. “Seeing you fighting… on my behalf… I won’t let the threat of Vaelyn, the council, or even my innateless state stop me from being beside you.”
A soft smile returns to Ryc’s face as I meet his gaze. “Be careful, demon, it’s almost like you love me.”
I scoff a laugh at my words thrown back at me. “Imagine that.” I mirror his earlier sentiment, letting the urge to smile win. “What happens now?” I ask, bracing myself for the political sluice today has thrown open.
He pushes a glass toward the end of the bar in my direction.
