Page 149 of Burn of the Everflame

Alixe nodded. “That’s our suspicion. Her Majesty issued a command to all creatures in the realm to do no harm to any mortal.”

“It won’t last,” Diem said darkly. “Not unless I can spare trips back to Faunos each time the magic wears off.”

I frowned. “Did you find a Regent you can trust?”

Diem mumbled something, massaging her temples.

Alixe pursed her lips. “Meetings were not as productive as we’d hoped. The Faunos Descended are⁠—”

“Animals,” Diem snapped. “No, actually, animals are better behaved.”

“They don’t have a great respect for titles,” Alixe explained. “Past Crowns did not bother choosing a Regent. They expected that, in their absence, the strongest would naturally emerge to lead.”

Sorae let out an impatient snort, and Diem stalked toward her and held up her arms. The gryvern’s muzzle twitched furiously as she sniffed every inch, the slits of her eyes swelling and thinning with each new scent she caught.

“They don’t even let up for the Crown,” Diem said crossly. “It’s a wonder Ailani kept her throne so long. I had four attempts on my life the first day alone.”

Sorae froze, and so did I. The emotion spiking inside her was a pair to mine, a flashfire of fury that our Queen had been in danger and we’d been stuck half a continent away.

“Calm down, both of you,” Diem chided. “I’m fine.”

She didn’t look fine. Her face was shadowed, her muscles coiled. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and weariness dragged on her bones, even as her body seemed ready to fight at a moment’s call. She looked furious and exhausted and jumpy and miserable to the core.

“May I speak with you?” I asked. “Alone?”

It wrecked me to see her reaction—her stiffening spine, her clamping jaw. The days when I had been her escape from the world’s troubles seemed so far away.

“It won’t take long,” I assured her. “There’s something I want to show you in camp.”

Her throat worked. She gave Alixe a parting nod and Sorae a slow stroke down her snout. When she tried to pull away, Sorae nipped at her sleeve with a plaintive whimper.

Diem frowned. “That’s not true, Sorae. I’m not upset with you.”

Sorae tossed her head at Tybold and snorted out a cloud of curling black smoke and sapphire embers.

“I need you here protecting Lumnos,” Diem insisted. “He doesn’t care for this place as you and I do.”

Tybold’s throat vibrated with a rumbling growl that said he did not disagree.

Sorae lowered her head until the gold of her eyes shone right into Diem’s grey. A curious silence passed between them until Diem tensed and looked away.

“It’s not about that, either,” she murmured.

Sorae’s jaws gave a disbelieving snap.

“Wherever I go next, I’ll take you with me. I promise.” She pressed a kiss to Sorae’s scales, and the gryvern relented with a purr—but as Diem turned to leave, Sorae shoved her muzzle into Diem’s back, sending her stumbling into me.

I moved without thinking and grabbed her before she fell. Like a flower curving its stem toward the light, my hands instinctively found their way to her skin, one clinging to her arm, the other perfectly placed on the sliver of bare torso between her tunic and pants.

She sucked in a breath at the touch, and I waited with apprehension for her to jerk away.

Instead . . . she lingered.

Not very long—a few seconds, at most, before she steadied her feet and gently eased out of reach—but long enough that we both knew it was no accident.

Long enough to rekindle my hope.

Sorae almost seemed to snicker as she sauntered away. She passed in front of Tybold, and he took a step forward and arched his wings. Her head snapped sharply toward him, a line of fur prickling on her back. He did not cower or retreat, but neither did he provoke her. He held his head high, and he waited.