“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Damn the rules. I’ll break every law in both realms for you, Duchess,” Roark says.
Evander’s laughing as he trails behind us. And I’m not sure if he’s laughing at what Roark said or something Roark told him telepathically. There’s a twinge of jealousy that they can communicate without me. Sure, they have their own language. And I’ve been picking up bits and pieces as the weeks fly by. I’ve got a pretty large vocabulary of basic words, plus an extensive selection of swear words I’ll never use. Mostly because I’m afraid to ask what they really mean.
Roark takes the stairs two at a time. Round and round up the circular stairwell, he speeds. The space narrows the higher we go.
“Where are we going?” I’ve never explored up here. But then, there’s plenty of places in Cloud Rift I’ve never investigated. It’s simply too big, and I’ve had too much to do withthe collection. The more we spiral up, the colder the air gets. There’s a wind blowing on my back.
“I can walk...” I’ve said it so many times to Roark it’s lost its meaning. There’s a creak of a door and the night air fills my lungs. The wind is even stronger when Roark lowers me to my feet. He spins me around, holding me around my waist. It’s the large flat roof of a turret. From here, the other towers are clear. The other five of them have golden domes. This one has a four-foot wall almost all the way around and lacks the dome. There’s also a large section with no wall. There’s nothing to keep someone from dropping off the edge either. I reach back to Roark and dig my fingers into the sides of his pants.
“I’ve got you, Duchess. I would never let you fall.” He carefully turns me around. Behind him, in the middle of the turret, there’s a granite slab. Six feet long and less than two feet wide. It’s narrow and it reminds me of an altar. My heart pounds, wondering what it’s doing up here.
“I know,” I say, and I mean it. But my focus is on the altar behind him.
“You can see the village from here.” Evander runs his hand down my arm and interlocks our fingers. Slowly, I let go of Roark and turn back to the view.
“Amazing. The colors streaking across the sky don’t appear real.” It’s dusk, and the last light of day skims over the mountains in the distance—bounces off the tops of the village roofs and glows on the village lake. Blue, orange, and red paint the sky.
The hairs on my arms are standing up, and I’m not sure if it’s from the scent of rain moving across the valley or being this close to Evander and Roark.
“Here’s something else we’re not supposed to showanyone but our mate.” Evander lifts me around the waist and sets me on the slab.
“What... what is this?” My heart’s jumping around my chest. The coldness of the stone sinks through my thin pants. I swing my feet. The impulse to slide off and run pounds against my ribs.
Evander steps between my legs. The firm planes of his legs radiate warmth in the wind.
“It’s a mating altar. Something that was always used in the before-time, Duchess.” Roark’s behind me. His hands settle on my hips. The heat radiating from the two of them cocoons me.
I lean back into him and rest my shoulders against his hard chest.
Evander leans in, his mouth finding mine. He tastes like chocolate and spice.
The wind blows my hair between our noses, and I break the kiss. “You taste amazing.”
“Cremira—I knew you’d like it, though most humans don’t. It’s a spicy hot liquor we drink in the winter in the other realm. You liking it is another of the long line of reasons I know you’ll have the lightning, Raine.”
The wind howls between us. My hair swirls around my head. Evander rolls his sleeves up while Roark pulls my hair into a ponytail. He produces a hair tie from his pocket.
My lips twist up. He’d have been the largest scout in my cousin’s troop if he’d been human. “Always prepared. Thank you.”
“That is my aim.” He kisses down the side of my neck, and I find myself holding on to the edge of the platform. “I love your bare neck.”
“I love your bare skin,” Evander says.
Roark rakes his teeth across the tender spot beneath my ear.
“Wait, you’re not going to . . .”
“No, Duchess. We won’t mate you without Kieren, or without your consent.”
“Mating will always be your choice,” Evander says.
Roark nudges my ear with his nose, and goosebumps shoot down my side.
“Then what are we doing up here?” I ask.
“There’s a human expression that I think is appropriate in this case.” Evander kisses me again.
