“Because Balandria came with me and I need to go check to make sure she hasn’t murdered any Dreamers.”
It was not the response she expected, and it amused her nonetheless. “Yeah, you’d better check on that.” Her fingers curled in the soft hair on his jaw. A quiet moment between them, rare and unfleeting, a moment she allowed her eyes to memorize every pore on his face, the scar above his cheek, the hazel flecks in his sage eyes… He leaned his forehead against hers. His soft walnut and caramel locks felt of water on her skin as they fell on her shoulder. She inhaled the scent of the forest, and she closed her eyes.
“I thought you were leaving,” she muttered as they stood there.
“You distracted me,” he murmured against her lips.
Her knees weakened as he pressed his lips to hers, and she felt air return to her lungs, strength return to her core. His hands fell below her hips, and he squeezed her backside, pressing himself into her, and she couldn’t help the groan that emitted from her throat. Her heart fluttered in her chest, ears warming with the raise in her blood pressure. She pulled him closer to deepen the embrace, desperate to forget about the world.
“My sister—Oh.”
The plate in Nyssa’s hands dropped to the floor in the doorway.
Aydra was barely startled, too entranced by his figure in front of her to care about her sister bursting into the room. She pulled back just as the noise of the rolling bowl echoed on the floor.
“Oh… Oh—what? Wait.Him?!” Nyssa asked, still standing in the door.
Aydra didn’t look away from the smoldering gaze on Draven’s face. “Close your mouth, sister,” she said. “You’ll catch flies.”
Nyssa blinked as though trying to wake herself up. “Him?!This is the secret man Dorian told me about?!”
Aydra turned around towards her sister’s startled figure. She almost laughed at the bewildered gaze written in her features. Draven’s breath tickled her ear when he leaned down and muttered, “I’ll let you two talk,” in her ear.
“Yeah, you should check on Balandria,” she mused.
He huffed amusedly under his breath and squeezed her backside in his hand, making her jump in surprise. “I’ll come back later,” he said before leaving her side. He gave Nyssa a quick wink upon passing her.
“Venari,” she uttered in a paralyzed voice.
“Princess,” he returned. He opened the door to leave, but paused just before exiting. “Oh, you’ll forgive your sister for any screams you may hear later. Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”
Nyssa’s eyes widened, a startled yip leaving her lips, and she clasped her hand over her mouth. As the click of the door sounded behind him, Nyssa stared at Aydra with disbelief in her eyes.
“What— What was—Him?!He is the one you told me about?”
Aydra almost laughed. She slumped back onto the bed and patted the seat beside her.
“Come sit,” she asked of her.
Nyssa’s brow raised. “Sit?” she balked. “You want me to just sit after… after…Him?!”
“Would you think me crazy if I said I loved him?” Aydra admitted.
The word slipped from her lips so easily, before she had a chance to stop it. The warmth of her heart spread through to her extremities as a restless ache, and she knew it was true.
“Yes,” Nyssa replied quickly, wavering on the spot. “Yes, I would. I would ask what bewitchment he has placed on you to make you think such.”
Aydra smiled, feeling a blush rise on her cheeks that she was unfamiliar with.
“Wait… You’re serious,” Nyssa realized.
The familiar warmth filled Aydra’s chest as she felt her sister sit down beside her. She swallowed hard and bit back the emotion she felt bubbling to the surface. Nyssa reached out and grasped her hands.
“Drae?”
“I don’t expect you to understand it,” Aydra managed. “I know… after all these years of hate being poured into our cores, the lies of the Chronicles and the feuds like wildfire spreading between our races… I know it is crazy, but…” Her voice trailed and she met her sister’s eyes. “He makes me feel more like myself than I knew I was. I can be free with him, tell him the things on my mind that I haven’t been able to tell anyone—”
“You could have told me,” Nyssa begged.
