CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kyson will not bend. There will only be six Bellators Bones.
—Correspondence from Enya to Lelyth. Date preceding Sultiran Calendrical System.
Autumn wind filled my lungs like the first breath of air after the plunge. I melted against Tiberius’s inky coat, soaking in his warmth as the wind picked up and we flew over western Sultira. We’d sailed south for the last six weeks, plotting, planning, and scouting.
Small towns dotted the coast before miles of farmland surrounding the Red River, flowing west from the Lake of Light. A smudge of gold stretched to the south as the Harena Desert unfolded in the distance.
My mind drifted to the foothills lining the eastern edge of the Lumerians and Enya’s resting place. It’d been over a year since the discovery, since my life changed entirely. Over a year since my first trip on theEvecta. Since Bayne. Since…everything.
Golden fields yawned open below us, and Drystan pointed from behind me to a small grouping of trees in the distance, where Nerissa, white knuckling Aquila’s feathers, landed.Marian stepped from the cover of the trees, hurrying to mount the massive hawk. She had agreed to travel to Krestwood for a few days to listen for any news of Rising forces. She was the least conspicuous of our group, as Carina pointed out. Most of us were either elves, pirates, or adorning wanted posters.
We banked and soared back to theHydra, where Marian revealed all that she learned.
My knuckles rappedagainst the door to the captain’s chambers, muffled voices and a scrambled thump sounding in response. The door swung open, as did my mouth.
Lord Astraeus’s dark auburn hair was free of its braids and…disheveled. He’d slung on his sea blue coat, leaving the buttons undone. His tanned chest was bare and covered in scars, the snaking black ink that began at the strong column of his throat twisting its way down his shoulders before retreating behind his coat.
Two long slices ran vertically down both pectoral muscles, which appeared, to my greatest displeasure, cut from stone. The MarisarmaMsat in the center of his chest, the large, gruesome brand leaving the skin raised and pebbled. Something about the damage pricked my consciousness, but I had no time to dwell on it as my eyes drifted lower to the knotted muscles rippling down his abdomen to the lines on his hips that led to the…
Oh gods. His leathers were undone.
My eyes snapped to where a lazy, satisfied grin formed on his lips.
His lips. Which I realized now curved against their fullness, looking unbelievably soft…
“Bonscaíh,” he purred.
My gaze fell to the strawberry blonde perched on his bed, furs wrapping snuggly around her chest and waist.
The color leached from Vienah’s face as her eyes shot to mine.
Mortified. We both were. I ground my teeth, irritated at the embarrassment he put her in, even if her presence here was…unexpected. Astraeus pulled the door halfway shut, though I could still see past his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have answered if y-you,” I stammered, looking back toward Vienah, whose face turned the color of my name day pie. My fingers fumbled with themselves until I wiped the sweat from the back of my neck.
“Had company,” I finished, schooling my features as I looked back at Astraeus.
“Apology accepted,” he crooned, grin widening as he leaned against the doorframe. “What can I do for you?” he asked, throwing Vienah a look that sent a tiny betrayal of heat shooting down my abdomen.
“Marian. She’s back,” I replied quickly, needing to put as much space between myself and the pirate as possible. I turned to leave when a hand gripped my forearm. I whirled toward him, outrage fueling the fire that replaced the whisper of feeling I’d had a moment ago. I yanked my arm, and his grip tightened.
His dark eyes sparked in curiosity as they slid along my forearm, watching my powers swirl beneath my skin, at the Transcindiel glow gilding the darkness.
“Take your hands off me,” I hissed, allowing the spark of embers to light up the darkness of my own eyes.
He pursed his lips in a way that showed a hint of a smile as he dropped my arm and backed away. “I’ll find you later,” he murmured.
I whipped my arm back and stalked across the deck.
“What were hisexactwords?”Astraeus’s insufferable, swaggering demeanor only worsened after his afternoon with Vienah.
An entire. Fucking. Afternoon.
“He said the rebels are at Demon’s Door,” Marian answered, irritation cutting through her normally relaxed nature.
Demon’s Door. My mind replayed the lessons I’d received detailing Sultira’s lethal prison.
