My head rocked back and forth. Two sturdy ropes held me—no, arms. I was in arms.
“Stop fidgeting, godsdammit.”
His voice was older, sharper, and lined in fear.
When he came to a pause, breathless and frantic, I let my head loll to the side. My heart shot to my throat. We weren’t alone. There was someone else nearby, someone clad in black but for two brilliant eyes the color of a golden sun.
35
Roark
“She’s mine.” An embarrassing stingof tears burned behind my eyes. “I felt it. They can’t take her.”
At long last, he lowered his sword—crafted from the black iron of the ravines, a royal blade—and knelt in front of me. “You know what you’re asking?”
I nodded. “I’m dead if they catch me.”
“And that can’t happen.” He blew out a long breath. “If you’re certain, I’ll help you.”
My heart raced like I’d been running for days. “You will?”
“I don’t take such bonds lightly, but this doesn’t mean you can keep her.” His eyes were deep blue, like the tides near the coves. That was why he was a prince; he looked like Dravenmoor. “They’llneverlet you keep her, but we can keep her breathing. That’s what it means to claim another soul, you understand? Sometimes you must give them up if it’s what’s best.”
But I wanted to keep the silver-eyed girl. She burned throughme like wildfire at the first touch, the first laugh when I slurped back her spoon of water.
It was exactly how Father described Mother once.
“We do this my way or we don’t do it,” the prince said again, shaking my shoulder slightly.
My chin dropped. I was not going to let him see my lip quiver. Wouldn’t be right, and he wouldn’t trust me to stand as his blade ever again if I was some weepy sod.
“I swear it,” I muttered.
“Good.” The prince stood again. “Then let’s take your little melder before we both lose our damn heads.”
I stared at the ceiling.The dreams wouldn’t stop. The closer I stepped into Lyra Bien, the more she haunted my nights.
I didn’t even know if they were real, but somethingfeltreal about each dream.
It would be better for us both if I walked away, ignored her as before. I owed a debt that could not be paid, but like in the dream, one glance at her and the roar of something fierce, something dangerous awakened inside me.
Now I’d had a taste and unlocked a deeper need to have more. No doubt, if I gave in, Lyra Bien would consume me—heart and soul.
“Roark.”
One hand shot to the pommel of my sword where it leaned against my bed, only easing back when Emi emerged from the shadowed corner of my doorway. She was in a nightdress, hair free over her shoulders, looking well-bedded and flushed.
Still able to stand?It’s been some time, cousin.
She shot me a glare. “I heard what happened.”
I looked away.Tomas deserved everything he was dealt.
“I’ve no doubt he did,” Emi agreed. “Yrsa is speaking for Lyra. She’s made a convincing argument about Tomas’s character, but her words are the only thing keeping Hundur tame for now. The two kings have argued the whole of the evening, and I fear Damir may concede to some punishment to keep the peace.”
I made a note to thank the princess the next time we met, then made another vow that if the Myrdan king claimed his punishment from Lyra, he would be found without a head come dawn.
“Hundur is furious and demanding Lyra be turned over to Myrda,” Emi said.
