The hooves slowed, and she turned just in time to see Draven dismount his horse. His white shirt was soaked to his firm body, and he strode towards her.
Thunder shouted into the air.
“You’re crazy,” he said loudly over the thunder as he paused.
She almost laughed. “Would you love me if I wasn’t?” she called back.
The curl of a smile rose on his lips as he stared down his nose at her, head tilted up just slightly. His eyes flickered up and down her figure, and then he crossed the space between them. His arms pulled her into his wet chest. Her eyes fluttered at the press of his solid chest to hers, the grasp of his fingers digging into her hips. He leaned down, water dripping down his nose as she reached up to his lips—
The screech of a bird sounded overhead.
Aydra grabbed his shirt in her hands.
“Hold tight,” she uttered.
“What?”
—She dove them both off the side of the cliff.
Draven’s arms latched frantically around her waist as the noise of his cursing shouts sounded into the wind suddenly circling their falling bodies. Aydra closed her eyes, a grin on her face, and she felt for the Orel, willing it to catch them.
The Aenean Orel swooped beneath them, and she grasped to its feathers. They were whisked upwards into the air. Draven clasped his arms around her waist, and she looked back over her shoulder at him. His eyes were closed tight, head buried in the crook of her neck. She laughed and squeezed her hands around his, and she felt him breathe a great exhale into her neck. She watched as he opened his eyes a few moments later, and when his gaze met hers, she smiled and kissed him.
No words needed spoken as the great eagle soared through the air. Aydra leaned her back into him, and he pressed his lips to her throat, hugging his arms tighter around her. Her body filled with the warming ache she’d felt the Rhamocour look at him with. A love that she sank into as though she were sinking into the water’s abyss. She’d never felt her heart so full, heat streaking up her arms and settling around her neck and cheeks.
This was the crave she’d been searching for her entire life.
For how long they soared, she wasn’t sure. It was only when the rain started to let up, and the sun began to peak through the clouds that the Orel landed on the cliffside, and the pair dismounted the great beast.
Aydra gave it a scratch on the side of its head as her feet hit the ground. The eagle leaned its head into her hand, and then she pressed her forehead against its head and closed her eyes.
I must go, the Orel told her.
Thank you, she told it.
The Orel didn’t say anything, but she felt the sun shining from within it. It shook off the water from its feathers and took flight after. Aydra felt Draven come to stand at her side as they watched it fly off over the ocean, and then it disappeared into the rays of sunlight peeking out.
No matter how many times she’d seen the rays cut through the air and ripple onto the surface of the water, no matter how many times she’d seen the dark grey and blue clouds stand stark against the cerulean of the ocean, the golden light of the sun… her breath still skipped when she viewed it from the high of the cliffs. The water was slowly drying on her skin. Petrichor entered her nostrils, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment.
“It’s beautiful,” Draven said at her side.
Her eyes opened, and she looked at him. His long hair was matted soaking wet to his head, droplets of water resting on his chestnut beard. His white tunic was pressed wet against his skin. Peace rested in his strong features. It was a different peace than she’d seen on him in the forest. This was the mesmerizing facade she craved, as though he’d lost his kingly identity on the way to the cliffs to meet her. This was Draven as he was. Raw. Unfiltered. Beautiful.
She reached out for his hand, and he met her gaze, a small smile rising on his lips.
“Perfect,” she agreed without looking away from him.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
IT WAS LATE when they finally made their way back to the castle. Still soaking wet from the rain, Draven lit a fire and laid a blanket out for them in front of it in her room. She packed the pipe as she watched him light the hearth, and then he sat beside her with a sigh.
“What did the Berdijay show you when you spoke to it?” he asked as he wrapped his arms with hers.
Her eyes narrowed, and she lifted her head off his shoulder. “Serious question, my King. Why do you ask?”
He leaned back against the bottom of the chaise lounge and moved one of his arms behind her shoulders. “Because you jumped off that cliff with me in your arms today as though you were ready to die.”
She smirked sideways at him. “Sounds like you were scared.”
