“My Rider mark,” he explained softly. “We get them the same time as our wyvern when we bond fully. The same sword is on her side.”
Evelina nodded. “Beautiful,” she murmured. She looked up at him, eyes wide and filled with pain.
He leaned in, holding her as if she were going to disappear. She stepped away from him and slowly removed her gown. His gaze never left her.
When he lowered her to the ground, he held her gently. And when he looked into her eyes, he felt the tightness in his chest ease. She didn’t seem to be able to look away from him either, their kisses desperate and needy.
Even as he undressed them, he held her gaze. If she needed this, he would gladly give it to her. He took his time, his hips working at a slow and tortuous pace. He kissed down her body, relishing every feel of her skin against his. He kissed the curve above her hip, then the swell of her breast, mapping her body with his mouth.
They held each other after, her head on his chest.
They were quiet, their breathing shallow and cheeks flushed. Evelina pushed her damp hair out of her eyes for the third time, the strands refusing to stay in place. Daimon stood and walked around her, sitting behind her. He gently pulled back the pieces of hair that had already fallen into her eyes and began to weave the strands over one another.
“What are you doing?” she asked, twisting around.
He reached out and angled her face forward to stop her from turning toward him. “Braiding your hair.” His fingers quickly wove three separate strands together, careful to keep it tight.
“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked softly.
A memory washed over him of learning how to tightly secure his hair when he first became a Rider.
“Do you remember how long my hair was when I first became a soldier?”
She nodded. “Nearly past your shoulders.”
“Far too long for a soldier,” he said softly. “When I bonded with Zephyr, Willow taught me how to keep it secured with a braid. It’s impossible to learn to ride a wyvern with your hair in your eyes. It was hard enough as is.”
“Why not just cut it?”
His fingers stopped their weaving. “I wasn’t ready to give my old life up just yet,” he whispered.
He slowly resumed braiding her hair, then turned to re-braiding just to prolong the moment. He murmured tales of being a young boy without a family to suddenly having more love than he could ever dream of when he became a Rider. The Riders were his family.Keirwas his family.
Evelina’s head was tilted back, eyes closed as he talked abouta past he never thought he’d share with anyone. His mouth couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stop opening up to her as she silently listened.
He got to the end of the braid and tore a small string off the hem of his shirt to tie it off. Then he pushed the braid over her right shoulder and rubbed her back.
“Carwyn wants us back on the border soon,” he said softly.
“I asked her to let me go back,” she confessed softly. Daimon blinked, surprised. “I always felt so useless in the palace, even if they allowed me to be a healer. But I think there’s a reason my light came alive in the mountains with you all. It needed to see real darkness first.”
“The darkness is what I’m worried about,” he whispered. “I’m worried I won’t be able to protect you.”
Evelina twisted around to face him. “I would go anywhere with you.”
They stayed together in the cave the rest of the night, until the sun began to peek over the horizon and Evelina had to go get ready for the lux. He wanted to go with her, to stay by her side the entire time.
But they weren’t on the border. She was back to being a princess, and he was back to being a commander in crisis.
Fifty-Eight
Daimon
A lux wasn’tfor the dead. And if Daimon were honest, he wished they weren’t for the living either. Each race of fae had its own way of celebrating the loss of life, but he could do without all of them.
When a Woodland died, a ceremony was always held somewhere in the glade. There were flowers and songs, dancing and drinking—but it was still a lux. The Nox gathered in the grove and dreamed together, bringing memories of the fae they lost to life.
He did always feel partial to how the Undine celebrated. They would have a day of silence and remembrance, staying quiet in the depths of the Andronicus among luminescent coral that glowed at night.
