Mariah scanned the words, spine straightening. From the bond came fear, panic, anger.
The anger was the strongest.
“What is it,nio?”
She lifted her gaze first to Matheo, then slowly turned to Andrian.
Her expression was enough to tell him that their time had run out.
“It’s from the Leuxrithian spies in Onita. Kol made his first move. Andburgh has been burned to the ground, and Verith is next.”
Chapter 74
Bright sunlight streamed through open windows, seabirds calling on the morning breeze from the bay.
Quentin blinked against the light, rubbing a hand down his face. He froze when he noticed two things.
First, that he was lying in a plush bed, cotton sheets draped over his legs. Very muchnotthe living room couch where he’d been sleeping the past week.
And second, that he was not alone in said bed.
Coconut and vanilla wrapped around him like another blanket, soft and sweet and familiar. Delaynie was nestled into his side, still asleep and breathing steadily, long auburn hair draped down her back.
The memories swept over him like a wave.
Varyn’s party. Theeshwa—that intoxicating drink. The irresistible desire to touch, to taste, to whisper. The acknowledgment of something that had always been there, bubbling just beneath the surface.
Something that he’d been so fuckingstupidto give in to.
He stifled his groan, not wanting to wake her. What had he been thinking? Yes, they’d had to prove themselves to the pirate lord. But surely, there were other ways they could’ve done that.Varyn probably just expected them to sit and watch, not actuallyparticipate.
And yet…
And yet, he couldn’t say he regretted it. Quentin, after all, had always craved things he knew he couldn’t have. And Delaynie Albellane was the most forbidden fruit of all.
Was it worth risking their friendship? Would he be able to survive if she said she wanted to forget it all? Or worse, if she decided she couldn’t be near him ever again?
Quentin swallowed thickly. No matter what happened next, he was in such deep shit.
Delaynie stirred. Nerves raced through his body, threading into his gut. She wore a cream button-down shirt—his, he realized with a pang of satisfaction that did little to soften the buzzing beneath his skin. Her small hand splayed across his bare torso, goosebumps prickling as she moved.
Until she, too, froze. As if suddenly realizing where she was.
As if she were also remembering everything that had changed.
Delaynie lifted her head, silky hair falling off her shoulders. Her features were uncharacteristically soft, her usual edge shorn away by sleep. She blinked, meeting Quentin’s gaze in the morning light.
Quentin forced his mouth into a smirk but knew it lacked his usual irreverence. “Good morning,” he whispered, cringing at the uncertainty leeched into the words.
Delaynie’s cheeks flushed that perfect shade of pink. “Um…” She shifted—not away from him, but into herself somehow. Like her energy was coiling in, nervousness written across every line of her body. “Good morning.”
“Are you…” Gods, he was doing an incredible job of making this so much more awkward than it needed to be. “How are you?” Quentin tried instead.
“I’m good,” she said softly, lips tugging into the ghost of a smile. Her eyes flashed around the room. “Are you?”
Quentin bit back his snort. Of course, he wasgood. Frankly, he’d never been better.
But he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear that.
