“I’m doing the best I can,” I huffed at the judgy bird. “Unless you know how we’re supposed to get the third relic so we can forge the Triune together with your master’s blood and make it into a weapon?”
The little shit literally shook his head and flew up the staircase, and after a short hesitation, I followed.
29
LYRAE
Ten minutes later, we were all stuffed in my bedroom like a bunch of nervous Rockwraiths.
Actually, if I wanted to get all technical, Ryland’s bedroom. And here I was, barefoot, pacing nervously back and forth in front of the window, something like terror mixed with nervous energy tangling into a knotted mess of self-doubt.
I glanced at the door, wondering if I still had time to find some dark corner to sleep in for the night.
But it was too late.
I’d started something with that impulsive, reckless kiss, with my cheeky taunt about what came after, and now that we were together, there’d be no walking those words—or that kiss—back.
But gods, tasting him…everything had flooded back, the past century dissolving away like it had never happened. Once our lips met, I couldn’t touch him fast enough, couldn’t wrap my hand around his hot, ready length, our tongues tangling like we were at war.
And all I wanted was more.
I’d meant what I’d said. I was tired of dancing around. Tired of looking and not touching, of wondering and notknowing. Of fantasizing whether or not that life-altering connection between us had been my imagination.
I wanted to feel Ryland inside me. I wanted both of them inside me.
I twisted my hands together, blowing out a breath.
It was just…
Ever since Ryland, I’d been cavalier with my lovers, the few I had. The act itself became brusque and utilitarian, where sex was no different than washing my hands or eating a bowl of soup. A task to be completed. Checked off the list, until the next time I had an itch to scratch.
Nothing had ever come close to what Ryland had given me during those rare, stolen moments, and I’d long ago decided nothing ever could.
But this…with Ryland’s green eyes reflecting the fire, and Varian staring at me like I was the answer to all his prayers…too much rested on this night.
A hundred years of wishing and hoping and hating…
Love could never hold up the weight of all that yearning without everything crashing down around us. One mistake—and somehow, tonight felt like an enormous mistake—we’d be tossed back into that bitter past.
Maybe we’d become enemies again.
We didn’t have much right now, but damn, friendship counted forsomething.
I looked between them, my stomach dropping.
No. I wasn’t ruining what we had right now.
“I know that look, Lyrae. Stop obsessing,” Varian chided softly, draped over a chair like an indolent cat, stripped to the waist, barefoot, washboard abs gleaming in the firelight, more relaxed—yet more on edge—than I’d ever seen him. “This is…” he blew out a long, slow breath. “We could just go to sleep. Gods know we all need to rest.”
Ryland shook his head with a strangled laugh, and I agreed. There’d be no sleeping tonight.
“It’s just that…”
“It’s just…what?” Ryland was on his feet, his hand sliding around my throat, sword-calloused fingers capturing my jaw, gripping just hard enough to hold me in place. “Let the doubts go, Lyrae. Just for tonight, let all of your reservations go. Just be…you.” He brushed his lips across mine, and that brief contact had my body loosening in anticipation, wanting more.
“Remember how things were between us? We were perfect together. No doubts, none of these hard edges.” He ran his hand down my side, sending the rest of my weapons thudding to the floor. “Shed the cold, in-control commander and let me taste the Lyrae I know is deep inside, the one who moans my name when she comes, unraveling down to her very soul.”
His hand swept to the back of my head, gripped my braid. “That’s the Lyrae we want tonight. Come here, Varian.”
