“Ach, I thought ye were taking the piss.” He holds me at arm’s length. “It’s no one but ye, Key.I’m yours.”
I stand on my tiptoes, careful not to rock the boat too much, and kiss his chin.
“You’re mine.”
The boat ridefrom Ishtar to Olundy is uneventful, but out of the corner of my eye, I swear I see dark shadows in the water trailing after us. The thought makes me smile and I wrap my arms tighter around myself.
One more island to go, and that’s it—magic restored.
The wind slides my hair across my face and behind me, as I stand at the bow of the ship. The salty sea air fills my lungs with each calming breath.
I am happy.
Tired, but happy.
I miss Gran. I miss my parents, but I know they would be proud of me.
The northern lights dance lazily above us, lighting our path to Olundy. It’s like I’m going home again. I hadn’t realized how homesick I was feeling. Thumbing the pouch of raven stone dust on my hip, I stare out at the whitecaps on the horizon. My skin tingles with the familiar feeling of being watched. Slowly I turn, spying a dark figure leaning against the mast. Lachlan.
He pushes off the mast, stalking my way. Each step is calculated and sure. The boat rocks, but he never wavers. When he reaches me, he tucks a wayward strand of golden hair behind my ear.
“Your hair has lightened,” he whispers and brushes his thumb across my cheeks. “And your freckles across your cheeks are back.”
I nod, staring up at him. “All that time in the desert or on the ship.”
His eyes beseech mine, looking for what I’m not sure.
“Tell me what else happened in that palace without me.”
I shiver at the deepness of his voice. Arousal unspools within me.
“Nothing,” I breathe. Worried that if I told him my fears would be confirmed again.
What if we’re not mates?
He cups my face, stroking his thumb on my bottom lip. “Tell me,” he whispers. His eyes glitter in the greenish light waving above us.
Closing my eyes a sigh slips through my lips. “Neva told Ashur I said you were mine. He said I couldn’t be with you because you are my captain and insinuated that we can’t have a volatile lovesick woman on the throne.”
I do my best impersonation of Ashur, causing a smirk to tug his lips up.
“Aye, and what did ye say?”
“I said that my love life isn’t anyone’s business, and then something about being Odin’s chosen heir. But my skin started shimmering, so he had little else to say.”
Lachlan’s thumb stops its tender strokes and his eyes narrow. “Your skin started shimmering in their dining hall?”
I shift on my feet. “Yes.”
“Were ye threatened? Did ye see something?” His hand moves from my cheek down to my hand as he takes a step closer.
“No, I didn’t feel threatened,” I snap. “Just annoyed. Why?”
Lachlan squeezes my hand, but shakes his head. “I’m sure it’s nothing. With magic regenerating, your power is just probably stronger than you’re used to.”
Nodding, I lean against him so that he can envelop me in his arms again.
“Ye declared I was yours to a councilor?” He asks, his chin resting on top of my head.
