Daemon turned away from his mother, his magic surging under the surface as his fists clenched at his sides. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, he’d known the answer. It had everything to do with how he’d acted after the Lyndarian queen died.“It’s not our business, son,”King Evander had said that after the queen collapsed to the ground, his grip on Daemon’s arm was hard as he tried to keep him from going to Auraelia.
He had to have known. There was no other explanation.
Daemon turned back to where his mother sat on the bench, wringing her hands in her lap. Closing the small distance between them, he kneeled in front of the queen. She raised her eyes to his when he clasped her trembling hands in his to still the movement.
“I’m going to Lyndaria,” he said matter-of-factly. He didn’t want to leave any room for argument, and the acceptance in his mother’s eyes said that she understood, but her words solidified it.
“May the Goddess protect and guide you, my son. And mayshewelcome you.”
Queen Avyanna placed a chaste kiss on his brow, and then he stood and headed toward his chambers.
There was a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.
Chapter Eleven
Auraelia
Walking down the stone hallway to her rooms, Auraelia heaved a sigh. She was exhausted after a morning spent talking in circles with her council and hours of training in the afternoon. Pushing open the door to her suite, she grimaced. She hated how her tunic and trousers clung to her sweat-slicked skin despite winter's lower temperatures. She wanted—needed,if the pounding in her head was any indication—food and a hot shower.
Mister Aramis hadn’t had any new information regarding her cousin’s movements. What he did have was confirmation that the Court of Pearl was leaning in Davina’s direction. The thought of another court siding with her cousin made her stomach roil and her head throb in time with her pulse.
Auraelia pressed her fingers into her temples to try and alleviate the ache.Food, shower, sleep.
The sound of the door latching into place echoed through the silence of her chambers. The quiet she once craved after endless hours of royal duties had become something she sought to avoid. She hated the sound of silence. She hated that it gave her too much space to think andfeelthe things she had fought so hard to escape.
She took a deep breath in an attempt to steady her mind and, instead, was greeted with the scent of sandalwood. Sure that her tired, aching mind was playing tricks on her, she closed her eyes and leaned against the door. Breathing in the familiar scent, she let it wash over her and calm the rough sea of her soul.
“Hello, Auraelia.”
Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name, her hand naturally reaching for the emerald dagger she kept strapped to her thigh. She saw no one as she glanced around her sitting area, but there, standing in the shadowed doorway that led into her bedchamber, was Daemon. It hit her then. He’d said her name. Herrealname. And that realization sent a sharp pain to the center of her chest, making her tense.
His arms were crossed at his chest, and he looked completely at ease as he leaned against the frame. “I’d understand if you felt the need for that,” his eyes drifted down to where her hand was gripped around the hilt of her dagger. “But I’d really rather not get stabbed tonight.”
Daemon pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the dim light of the sitting area. Goddess, he was gorgeous. His trousers hugged his legs like they had been formed around them, and the laces across the top of his tunic were left loose, exposing the intricate lines of his tattoos. Auraelia drank in the sight of him. Her memory had certainly not done him the justice he deserved,and a familiar heat began to swell in her chest the longer her eyes lingered.
Pulling her gaze away, she released the grip on her blade and pushed away from the door. She needed to get a grip. Needed to focus and find outwhy hewas in Lyndaria, let alone in her chambers.
“You’re not even going to speak to me?” he asked as he slowly closed the distance between them.
Auraelia straightened her spine as she walked across her suite, counting in her head to keep her emotions in check. He was barely near her, and her magic was already responding to his proximity. Warming and swirling beneath the surface.
“What are you doing here?” Her tone was icy, even to her own ears, but she couldn’t take it back now. Within the blink of an eye, he was on her, having shadow-walked the distance between them. His hand was loose but firm around her throat as he pressed her against the nearest wall, and her heart pounded in her chest. But it wasn’t fear that elicited the response. It was never of fear, not when it came tohim.
His thumb idly traced circles around where her pulse thrummed in her neck, sandalwood and the salty ocean air enveloping her senses as he pressed his body against hers. “That wasn’t a very nice greeting. I’m wounded,” he teased. That damned smirk that made her knees weak, tugging on one side of his mouth.
Fuck.
“I seriously doubt that.” Auraelia rolled her eyes, and when they landed on his once more, she immediately regretted that choice. His smirk had morphed into a wicked smile that promised all manners of depravity, and memories of his hand slapping her ass every time she’d done it in the past trickled back into her mind.
Taking a deep breath to try and steady her racing heart and cool the flush that now warmed her cheeks, she asked again, “What are you doing here, Daemon?” Only this time, the ice had melted, and her words had turned breathy.
Shit.
“Ineedyou.” His voice was a low rumble in his throat as he dragged out the words, and a flood of heat settled in her core.
It wasn’t just the way he’d said it or the way his body was pressed against hers. It was the fact that he’d used the same phrase from her dream. The one that had seemed like more of a memory than her subconscious spinning stories. And if it was, that meant they were the same words his ancestor had spoken to hers.
And something about it just seemed…right.
