She started to lurch forward, but Fenn slid his hand up beneath the hem of her shirt, splaying his fingers wide across her stomach. The heat of his palm burned into her skin as he pulled her flush against him once more.
“Did you find anything?” he cleared his throat, the rumble of it vibrating through her back. “The etchings look like they tell a story, but I can’t see to what end. Or how it might help us.”
“Perhaps,” Kaelith said, his tone turning crisp. “Now that I can think clearly…”
He turned back toward the carved stone, trailing his fingers across one of the larger circles etched into the top corner. Lines fanned out from it like rays of sunlight breaking through clouds.
Rynna allowed herself to lean back again, exhaling slowly as she threaded her fingers through Fenn’s, where they rested on her stomach.
I’m not a brat. Am I?She reached inward, brushing against the sliver of connection she’d felt when Fenn had stepped in front of Bran’s flames. It wasn’t the same as what she shared with Kaelith, but it beat in the same space. Familiar. Resonant. Anchoring.
Fenn stiffened behind her. Then he leaned in, lips skimming her ear.
“Only when you’re tired, love.”
Rynna strained, turning her neck to look up at Fenn. Her muscles ached from the motion, but she needed to see his eyes. They were crinkled at the corners.
“Looks like the snake was right,” he said, voice warm.
“I usually am,” Kaelith called from the end of the pavilion, his tone breezy as ever. He moved to the next monolith, nose nearly touching the stone’s surface.
Rynna coughed. “You two have been talking?” She kept her gaze on Fenn. “When?”
“On the eagle,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “When you fell asleep.”
She turned fully onto her side, tucking herself against him. Her cheek pressed into the center of his chest, settling just above his heart.
“Kaelith thought that you and I would share a mental connection, too?” She crunched her nose, thinking. “Because of the blood sharing and…”
…the mind-blowing, mind-meld sex that came after?
“That just made me sure,” Kaelith said, still focused on the monolith. He raised a finger and drew a slow circle across its upper curve.
“He thinks we’ve been capable of connecting like that all along.” Fenn paused before he exhaled. “But that I’ve been resisting it. That I’ve buried too much. Spent too long pretending how I felt didn’t matter.”
“I believe my exact words involved a very large stick,” Kaelith drawled, “jammed into a particularly dark, humorless hole.”
Rynna snorted.
“That’s what she used to say about a mean old crone in the Hearth,” Kaelith added. “Didn’t walk—clomped. Like her spite lived in her knees.”
Rynna bit her lip, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. That old twat had practically clanked when she moved. And yes—absolutely—stick up her ass.
You think that’s funny?
The growl wasn’t spoken aloud. It echoed in her mind, velvet-dark and filled with heat.
She froze, uncertain she’d heard it at all.
Then Fenn’s fingers pressed, slipping further down, under the drawstring of her pants. And a sudden image bloomed behind her eyes: his teeth grazing the curve of her neck with a possessive pressure that sent a flush racing under her skin.
Fuck, she thought, heat boiling low in her belly.The man learns fast.
“Ouch!” Kaelith jerked his hand back from the monolith, thumb sliding into his mouth. A small smear of blood marked the stone where his skin had split.
“Looks like the story has teeth,” he muttered.
He turned, lips parting as if to speak again—before his eyes landed on Rynna. And he froze. Then, slowly, deliberately, his tongue flicked out, tasting the air.
