Then, with an infuriating slowness, he swings up behind me and settles into the saddle.
I regret my decision to ride with him the moment we start to move, all too aware of all the constant contact between us. Despite my best efforts to stay rigid, I can’t ignore the way his unusually broad shoulders bracket me as he steers Aetherion, or the heat radiating off his body—how his chest warms my back, how his breath stirs my hair.
Every shift of the saddle reminds me how close we are, how easy it would be to lean into him, to let his touch warm my chilled bones, to accept the comfort and safety he offers.
But I don’t. Instead, I sit so far forward that my hips grind uncomfortably against the front of the saddle, which will undoubtedly leave bruises later.
We ride in silence for what feels like hours. The ancient forest sways around us, dappled in gold and green. Ferns shiver in our wake. Birds lift from their branches. And somewhere behind us, the soft hooves of a new life follow.
I realize how much I miss Marb. Mariel, Cassy, even Vivian. It’s only been a day, but a part of me aches to return, to know they’re alright.
And at the rate we’re going, it will take at least two days to reach the keep through this vast, tangled forest. That means two days lost. Today was supposed to be Elena’s day. Cassy’s tomorrow.
Cassy won’t mind. Elena will.
Maybe if we return by Wednesday, my day, I could give it to her.
Three whole days. Just me and Keiren. I shiver at the thought.
Aetherion suddenly stumbles forward, slipping in the mud. I go careening toward his neck, arms flying forward in an effort to hold onto something, anything. My eyes clamp shut, bracing for impact.
But it never comes.
I open my eyes to find the ground safely beneath us once more. Aetherion has regained his footing.
Keiren’s arm is tight around my torso, anchoring me to him, the reins still in his other hand. We’re sitting flush now, my back pressed firmly to his front. I take a deep breath as the adrenaline of the moment releases its grip. For a moment, I just rest in him—in the warmth of his body, the scent of smoke and cedar and leather.
He held me like this last night, too, wrapping me in safety and warmth. And just like that, returning to the Onyx Keep doesn’t feel so urgent.
Saints and sinners, what is the matter with me? This man is my enemy. My jailer. The reason I’m here. I shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not like this.
“Are you alright?” His voice breaks through the haze. I turn to meet his gaze—sapphire eyes lit with gold, glinting with concern.
I shake my thoughts away. “I’m fine. We should keep going.” I gesture toward the thickening clouds ahead; he was right about the storm.
He doesn’t loosen his grip as we ride. I can feel every muscle in his body, tense and alert, rippling with each step.
“You can let go now, Your Highness,” I say. “The path has evened out.”
Silence.
I stiffen. “Seriously. I’m fine. Let go.”
“Not a chance. I won’t risk you falling and injuring yourself.”
“I’ve been riding since before I could walk,” I retort. “Nothing is going to knock me off this horse. Either way, will you please at least loosen your grip? I can barely breathe.”
He relaxes then, just enough that I can finally take a full breath. One hand holds the reins, clenching and then relaxing. The other slides to rest gently on my hip.
A soft nicker sounds behind us. We both turn just as the colt flaps his wings and lifts off the ground for the first time. He hovers just a few inches in the air. Sauntering along behind him, Ashwing nickers with pride.
“Your instincts saved them,” Keiren says, voice low. “And me.”
I shake my head. “No. You don’t owe me anything, Your Highness.”
A pause. Then—
“Keiren,” he says softly. “Please. Just call me Keiren.”
