Nadir’s eyes fluttered, and he kissed her so hard, she almost fell off balance. Biting her lip and sweeping his tongue inside in a claiming way that she devoured.
“How many wars can I start if I kidnap you tomorrow?” he asked upon pulling back.
She laughed this time. “At least one.”
His eyes traveled predatorily over her again, shaking his head, biting his lips. “Mmm…Fuck, you’d be worth it,” he decided. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “So fucking worth it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
DRAVEN SOAKED IN the stars above them as he and Aydra walked down the surf. Holding her hand, swaying with it every now and then, hearing her soft laugh over the ocean breeze…
“A lot accomplished these last few days,” he said, looking up at the sky.
“I wish the castle felt like this all the time,” Aydra said. “Brimming with laughter and banter and energy. Not stale and on edge as it usually is.”
He squeezed her hand as she sighed heavily, and then she looked up at the stars as he was. “Do you know what I want once all this is over?” Aydra asked.
“A new throne and castle?” he teased.
“Tempting,” she agreed, swaying with his hand. “But no… I want to travel. I want to spend more time with the Noctuans. I want to get to know the rest of the people of Haerland and learn their traditions. Did you know, I know nothing of the Martyrs? Nothing at all. I’m not even sure what part of Haerland they live in.”
“Northeast,” Draven said. “Past the edge of the Forest and north of the mountains.”
“Have you been?”
“Once,” he said. “I stopped through on the way home from a meeting once with Parkyr. We made it in time for the rise of the Deads and were able to participate in their waking ritual.”
“They have a waking ritual?”
Draven smiled sideways at her. “They do. You’d love it.”
Her eyes lit up, and his heart swelled at the sight of it. “Tell me more,” she begged.
He contemplated teasing her a moment, but it was the eagerness in her gaze that made his words come out before he could stop them.
“Every person is decorated in paints for the ritual,” he began. “They set up in circles around a great bonfire inside their cave. Drums sound all around. They sit in silence while the Nitesh speaks the ritual and to Haerland in the old language. There are flames—cold flames, that wrap around the entire cavern and you. The drums grow louder and louder, and then you hear her.”
“Hear who?” she asked eagerly.
“The Rhamocour,” he replied with a smile.
Aydra stopped walking. “The Rhamocour? But… you say the Martyrs are in the northeast. Their territory is near your home.”
“There is a cave system beneath the Forest,” He smiled. “Where do you think the Noctuans go during the living moons?”
“I—“ There was a pause that told him she’d probably never considered it. “Honestly, it never occurred to me to question it,” she admitted.
A soft laugh left him. “The Forest is as large as it is to hide the caves. Only Venari Kings and those who can navigate the Mortis Lunar know the cave entrances.”
“So, you and Nadir and Bala,” she said.
He thought about it a second. “Yes.”
“Wait—“ She turned in front of him. “Does that mean I could see them without the Dead Moons?”
“That’s dangerous,” he said. “They’re in a hibernation state between cycles. To wake them might mean death.”
All the hope she’d had visibly vanished, and Draven laughed at the crestfallen expression on her face. “Only you would get so disappointed at not being able to see bloodthirsty night beasts.”
