“My queen.”
I smirk. “You don’t have to call me that.”
“It’s my duty and privilege,” he says, a note of truth ringing in his voice. His gaze slashes to Feylin, who’s still with my family, before landing back on me. “I’ve never told you this, but I’m happy he’s found you. You’re exactly what my friend needed, and I’m honored to serve you both.”
“Thank you.”
He kisses my cheek. “May your union be blessed.”
I thank him again and he leaves. My family’s left, too, and it’s when Feylin turns to me, his eyes brimming with emotion, that Ryals drags himself over.
“I’m tired. I need to go to bed.”
Feylin smiles. “Piggyback?”
“Yes,” he moans.
I laugh as Feylin bends down, and Ryals climbs onto his back. We drop him off at his room, and the boy says, “Addie, will you tuck me in?”
His request plucks one of my heartstrings. “Of course.”
I magick some pajamas onto him and pull back the covers of his bed. After he’s slipped in and the duvet’s tucked under his chin, Ryals rubs his eye.
“I’m glad you’re going to live with us.”
I kiss his forehead. “Me, too. Now get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
He’s snoring lightly by the time I reach the hallway. Feylin threads his fingers through mine and shuts Ryals’s door. We walk in silence to his bedroom, but when we stop, it’s outside of my old room, the one across from his.
My gaze washes from one door to the other. “What are we doing here?”
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Open it and see.”
I quirk a brow. “Nothing’s going to jump out at me, will it?”
He rolls his eyes. “Do I have to answer that?”
“No.” I giggle and turn the knob. As the door slowly opens, my breath hitches. The room—the one that’d been mine, full of all kinds of feminine beauty—has become a blend of Feylin’s masculine taste and my own softness.
The walls are painted a light gray, and the accent colors are a deep navy with touches of pearly white here and there,softening the edges. There are pictures of my family, of the two of us together, of Ryals. Feylin’s clearly done everything that he can to make sure this room feels like a space for both of us.
Words choke in my throat. “Feylin…”
He smiles. “You like it?”
“I love it.”
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. He greedily kisses me back, his arms sweeping around my lower waist. We’ve been really, really good these past months, doing everything to temper our lust for one another. Why? Well, neither of us has said as much, but?—
He breaks the kiss and glances down at me, his eyes full of tenderness. “Finally we get to do this when we’re not angry with one another, and when we’re not confused.”
That’s why. Because we wanted our emotions to be aligned to the right place, and they are.
He pulls me inside and kicks the door closed. Every touch as he unzips my dress is light as a feather and imbued with a fire that sizzles down my skin. No, our touches no longer have the joining magic behind them. They have something different. It’s a deeper emotion, an electric spark that makes every touch sweeter as his fingers caress my shoulders on their way to tug down the straps of my dress.
The gown falls away, and I step out of it. We don’t break eye contact as I unknot his tie and let the fabric slip through the collar.
