They watched the way they moved together for several beats, then his mouth closed over her breast. She threw her head back at the caress of his tongue over her hardened peak, and let her robe slip fully from her shoulders. Moans left her lips, ones she didn’t care enough to stifle. The guards weren’t close enough to hear them, and even if they were, she didn’t care. There was a boldness to what they were doing that made her euphoric and a roughness between them that hadn’t been there the first night they’d made love. Through it all wove a softness in her heart that made her feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Even as Teryn’s teeth grazed her skin. Even as she dug her nails into his back.
Release began to unravel inside her, and she rode that cresting wave. Teryn aided it with his fingertips, circling over her most sensitive spot as he continued to move inside her. Then finally, the sweetest, fiercest pleasure erupted from her, one that sent stars to her eyes and whimpers from her lips. Teryn found his release next, and he guided her hips through every wave and valley until they both were thoroughly sated.
As they fell back, out of breath, and stared at the armory ceiling, Teryn spoke through trembling breaths. “Say whatever you want, but I think I won that battle.”
41
As Cora and Teryn left the armory, their clothing haphazardly replaced, Cora wondered if maybe they had been too loud after all. Not that the guards gave any indication as the king and queen emerged from the armory hall, but they were well-trained in keeping their composure. It was the silence of the sleeping castle that brought heat to Cora’s cheeks, strikingly still and quiet as they strode up the steps to the keep. Even their footsteps were too loud.
That was also when the mood between Cora and Teryn began to change. It wasn’t awkwardness. Teryn held her hand with the same warmth and attention he’d given her body in the armory, and his posture was easy. Instead, the strain came from an inevitable fall back to reality in the wake of their euphoria.
Teryn was the first to voice it, leaning in close and lowering his voice to the quietest of whispers. “King Darius made his first direct contact with us today.”
She nearly stumbled up the next step, but Teryn’s grip on her hand helped her regain her balance. “He did?”
“He issued a demand for our surrender and detailed the forces that await us should we decline.” He relayed those numbers now, told her about the meeting Darius had set at the Khero-Vinias border, and the legion of reinforcements already heading their way.
Cora’s head swam at those numbers, but before her dread could grow, Teryn handed her a slip of paper. They reached the top of the staircase, and she read the sparse words scrawled across the paper, illuminated by the dim lamps lining the halls of the keep. It was a short, coded message, but…
“Does this mean what I think it means?”
Teryn gave a nod, and she returned the paper to him. Hope filled her chest as she analyzed the words in her head again and again. It could only mean one thing. The rebellion in Norun was set to strike soon. Darius wouldn’t likely get those reinforcements.
Teryn’s secrecy made her wonder who else knew. Perhaps no one.
Good. That meant it was truly an advantage.
“There’s a traitor in the castle,” Teryn whispered. “The Norunian spy you’d imprisoned was murdered after he divulged the information about the naval fleet. At least, that’s how it was supposed to seem. In truth, the dead man that was left in the cell was someone else entirely. I know because…because I spoke to the corpse’s spirit.”
“Youspoketo a spirit?” She went to great lengths to keep her voice down despite her shock. She knew about his ability to see spirits and that he could communicate with Emylia, but speaking to the ghost of a dead stranger…well, that was only half as alarming as what he said next.
“I learned that I can aid a spirit’s progression to the otherlife through touch.” Teryn’s expression turned wary, as if he hadn’t fully come to terms with this new information either. “I spoke to the spirit. He remembered nothing after heading home from a tavern in Greenfair Village. After he told me what he could, he grew hysterical. He begged me to send him on, so I did.”
Her mind reeled. And not just over Teryn’s strange new power. Setting that shocking revelation aside, she pored over what he’d said before that. The prisoner was found dead in his cell after making his confession. But the body—and its spirit—had belonged to a stranger.
Her pulse quickened. “Someone helped the prisoner escape and left a decoy corpse in his place?”
“Yes. It was supposed to look like he’d been silenced on purpose as punishment for divulging key information. Larylis believes it was all a ruse to get us to separate our forces.”
Damn. If he was right, they’d played right into that scheme.
They turned down the hall toward their suite.
“Any leads on who may have helped the prisoner escape?” Cora asked.
Teryn shook his head. “None.”
She cast her gaze around the dark halls with fresh eyes, seeing sinister shadows and imagining hidden enemies. Even so, this was probably the safest place to talk—while walking, when there was no one close enough to hear their words, no way for someone to lie in wait and overhear their secrets. Even the guards trailed too far behind to hear them. That was some comfort at least.
They reached their suite, and the guards took their posts on each side of the door. The sitting room held a chill as they entered, but their bedroom boasted the embers of the hearth fire. Teryn retrieved a fresh nightshirt from his dresser and pulled it over his head before he went to stoke the flames. Cora freshened up with the ewer of wash water—cold, unfortunately—and changed into a chemise and thick velvet robe.
With the fire roaring and the room growing toasty, Cora wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed. She was about to do just that when Teryn’s snort of laughter had her gaze flying to him.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Your hair, my love. Bring me your brush.”
Her cheeks heated. After their time in the armory, her hair was probably a disaster. She did as asked, and when she returned to the bed, she found him seated upon it, his back propped against the pillows. His hair had come loose from its tie during their…activities…and now hung around his jaw, a few wayward strands strewn over his forehead. How the hell did he look so dashing with mussed hair?
He patted the space on the bed before him, and she crawled upon the mattress and settled between his legs. She handed him the brush.
