“No need.”
The warmth of her touch drew me in, and I lifted my hands, letting my palms cup her face. I lowered my mouth to hers, parting her lips as I drove my tongue inside. She tasted like wildflowers and smoke, but more than anything, she tasted like fuckingmine.
Purely, unmistakably, mine.
We pulled apart, and time seemed to stall as we stared at each other.
“You could have died, Temptress,” I said, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her nose. “You can’t imagine the monster I’d becomewithout you.” I placed my hand on her lower abdomen. “Without him.”
“Why are you so certain it’s a boy?” she asked, her tone light and playful.
“Because I have no idea how to raise a girl,” I said. “Probably murder every fae male not related by blood before they eventhoughtof trying something foolish.”
Cadence chuckled, and I glared at her. “And don’t change the subject.”
“I knew the risks, Ryker,” she said, blowing out a breath. “Riordan would not have made it unless I did something drastic. It was my decision to make, and you need to respect that.”
Pride surged through me. This woman was made for me. She was the only one fierce enough to stand her ground when faced with my fury.
She once asked if she’d tamed the Night Cursed Prince. I told her she hadn’t. Not even a little.
But the truth was, the moment I saw her, her presence eased the darkness inside me. She hadn’t just tamed me, she’d conquered me: mind, body, and soul.
“Ryker,” Cadence said, her voice wavering with uncertainty.
“Yes, Temptress?”
“Eamon is dead.”
My heart cracked wide open again at the mention of my fallen friend. I shut my eyes, struggling to steady the storm within.
“I know.” The words trembled as they clawed their way out.
“He died protecting me.”
“And I’ll never stop being grateful for that. I owe him a debt I can never hope to repay. So, we will do the only thing left to us: we’ll send him to the gods in a manner worthy of a king.”
Chapter Seventy-Two
Ryker
The last time I stood in the throne room, it had been drenched in blood.
Today, it was radiant.
Light filtered in from the tall windows, scattering golden hues across the marble floor that had once been slick beneath my boots. Soft murmurs and gentle laughter filled the chamber as the crowd craned their necks for a better view of the dais.
Everything about it was unbearably tedious, aside from the woman who kneeled before me.
My wife. My queen.
I’d made sure that Cadence’s coronation was a lavish affair. My own had been simple, performed in private and out of necessity. But I wanted the Unseelie Fae to see her. To know that she was their queen, so no one would dare question her right to stand beside me.
As the crown bearer stepped aside, the hall fell silent, and our eyes met. The weight of the diadem in my hands surprised me. It was even heavier than my own. As I lowered it onto her brow, the hall erupted in applause as the Unseelie Fae welcomed their new queen.
I extended my hand, and my wife placed her palm in mine, rising to her feet with the gracefulness of a swan.
“Your Highness,” I said, as I nuzzled her neck.
