The metallic clang of my sword echoed as I dropped it, reaching out to catch her. I lifted her, and her body folded into mine like she was meant to be there. The curse shuddered, stunned back into silence by being given exactly what it wanted.
The entire world disappeared except for the beating of her heart and the soft flutter of her cries against my neck.
I pulled back, tilting her chin up. I had to see her face. Had to look into her eyes to know she was okay. Her chin quivered and her eyes were puffy, but I’d never seen anything so lovely in my life.
A more suspicious man might’ve searched for deception there after seeing a kidnapped woman walk so freely, but I knew Isca.
The woman who saw past my scars, past my growling, who thought I could be a better man, was alive. Safe.
I kissed her. It was a desperate thing. But I was a man who’d lost half his soul and somehow found it again.
When I set her down, it was only because my world had been returned. That recognition came with the renewed awareness of the other woman still watching from the dais.
Anwen’s voice was dry with amusement. “Glad my intelligence was correct about…that.”
Isca reached for my hand, even though it was still covered in traces of the violence that had brought me here. So my temper was banked, but I felt the curse flare in my eyes when I met the princess’s gaze again.
“Speak now, Anwen,” I said, voice low and lethal, “while my patience holds.”
The curse growled.Igrowled. The sound echoed off the walls like a rising storm.
I felt a small squeeze on my hand and heard Isca’s quiet sigh. Barely audible, her voice cut through my fury yet again. “Oh, Emrys.”
That phrase, that particular mildly exasperated tone, was how I knew she was truly all right. That she was still her.
I gently squeezed her hand in return, letting her know with the simple gesture that I would bend. I would kneel. But onlyfor her.
And as she leaned into me, whispering the words that would change everything, I knew that getting her back had only been the beginning. “Princess Anwen stole me, saved me from Maelric’s men. But there’s more… The Assembly is playing usall, Emrys.”
Chapter 57
Isca
I was safe now.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled, and only Emrys’s arm at my back kept me upright. I leaned into his warmth, inhaling his scent, drinking in the feel of his magic, his heartbeat—things I wanted to call mine.
Since we’d ridden out of Darreth, he’d worn armor. But I’d never seen him bristling with so much steel from neck to toe. The ruby-pommeled short sword I’d seen so many times before was gone. In its place, he gripped a broadsword meant to cleave through men by the dozen. It and the daggers at his waist still held traces of blood.
My chest ached with how badly I’d missed him, with how much I wanted to jump into his arms and never be alone again. I gripped his hand, finding comfort in its firmness. He squeezed back, the unexpected tenderness of the gesture at odds with the barely contained rage burning in the air all around him.
Still holding my hand, he took a step toward Anwen. “What has your cousin done?” he demanded, his voice a blade made of magic.
The air itself seemed to flinch. The tension between the cursed prince and the iron princess sharpened. A cold spark of magic radiated from her, poised to slice through Emrys’s darkness.
The look I sent Anwen was stern, a warning and a silent plea not to take the bait. I’d warned her about how to handle Emrys when he was like this.She’d listened because she met my gaze then inclined her head just enough to show she’d understood.
“We’re leaving,” I said firmly, hoping each steady word would cut through the curse’s rage. “Please. This is our path to peace, Emrys.”
His gaze had been fixed on Anwen, but at the word “peace,” his attention flicked back to me, a hint of warmth returning to those cold eyes. His jaw worked, clenching and unclenching. He wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him a chance.
When I tugged his hand, his fingers flexed like he wasn’t sure whether to follow or hold me there forever. “I’ll tell you everything on the road,” I said. “But I’m leaving this castle, with or without you. She’s not your enemy, Emrys.”
The curse sparked like lightning over the storm-tossed waters in his eyes. He growled again, and the pillars holding the roof in place shook.
I wanted to throw my hands in the air and growl, too, but that would be unladylike. It was the curse I was addressing, not the man himself, when I said, “Just carry me out of here like you want to.”
There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before he caught me around the waist. Then, with another snarl, he hauled me against him, and I felt the solid press of his body as I was swept over his shoulder.
