He fought for me.
He burned for me.
He would die for me.
And gods help her?—
She wanted him with an ache that bordered on salvation.
Pleasure hit like surf over rock, again and again, wild and somehow sublime.
He might be her damnation instead.
When it finally ebbed, Ella lay beneath him, breathless, every nerve alight. The banquet, the coronation, the whispers—they all drifted to the edges of her mind like distant noise. She would face them soon enough. For now, she held to the only truth that mattered.
He’d chosen her.
And she’d chosen him.
The torches hissed, steady and low, as though the castle had suspended itself in the moment with them.
Dawn foundthem in a tangle of sheets that smelled of amber and rose, pale gold from the lattice spilling across the floor while the jungle’s slow hymn rose beyond the open window. Ella woke to his arm at her waist and the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm, and she let herself float there—small and infinite at once, held between warmth and light.
At least she hadn't Threadwalked in her sleep this time. The glaring truth of all she’d kept from him started to creep in; Jakobav was likely wondering why she’d asked him not to draw blood. She hadn't explained last night.
She was afraid.
Afraid of what might happen if the Fae man scented amber on her skin again. Especially after his warning that the consequences would be far worse. And this time, her kingdom would’ve paid the price. She shivered as guilt encroached upon her.
She hadn’t told Jakobav that she knew who’d sent the Tracker through the breach. Not when he bled for her, nor after he stood against Veinfire for her, and not even now.
Instinct warned her that speaking about the Fae—telling Jake the exact words the green-eyed man had said to her—would bring catastrophe down on both their kingdoms.
His lips pressed against the back of her head.
“You’re awake,” she whispered.
“I don’t sleep much, remember?” His smile was lazy, and his voice still carried last night’s heat.
She turned within the circle of his arm. The blood smear may have been long gone from his mouth, but the look in his eyes was not. “They all saw,” she said softly. “What you did to Caelen. Blood-Scenting magic.” She drew a breath. “Jakobav…should you even be able to do that in Orchid?”
“It’s not power born of Dravaryn soil. It’s never been limited to the borders of my own kingdom,” he said. “But his Veinfire came to me faster and stronger than any ability from blood has before. Didn’t think much about it at the moment. Been distracted ever since.”
“It was quite a spectacle. You need to prepare for knowledge of your power to be widespread. Word travels fast here in Orchid. And the council will likely call a meeting to decide?—”
“If the court decides I’m to be feared, we’ll be surrounded before a crown ever touches your head.”
“They already decided you’re terrifying,” she said, a wry light in her voice. “They watched you take him down without even blinking.”
His mouth tilted. “You weren’t blinking either.”
“I was busy,” Ella answered. “And why didn’t you use your shield? You could’ve stopped him before he touched me.”
Jakobav’s jaw tightened. “I haven’t had nearly as much practice with that ability as with my others. I almost killed Soren with my shield. I would never forgive myself if—” He broke off, jaw flexing. “And some things I don’t reveal unless I must.”
His admission settled between them.
She recognized herself in it more than she wanted to, her thoughts tormenting her with all she still held secret.
