This was where I belonged.
His touch drifted down my stomach, sliding past my navel before pausing. My lips curved, heat blooming beneath my skin. Did he know I was awake? Was he asking permission?
A low hum slipped from me as I stretched, tipping my hips back, guiding his hand lower.
A knock shattered the quiet.
Kallias sighed, his breath warm against my neck, ending in a muted sound of frustration that vibrated through his chest.
“My king?” Fallione’s words came through the thick wood, softened but insistent.
“Duty calls,” I whispered, patting his hand before sitting up.
“A moment.” Kallias’ voice rasped with sleep as he shifted behind me, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
I tilted my head, squinting at the thin wash of light at the window. The ship felt steadier beneath us, the sea less volatile.
Kallias took two steps toward his wardrobe, then stopped, gaze dropping to his feet.
“Thank Elohios,” he murmured, sensing the gentle sway instead of the violent lurch we’d grown used to.
“We’ll get a heading. Gyrak can pull us,” I said, reaching past him for his mantle.
“Fallione likely has a plan already,” he agreed, shrugging into a deep green jacket. He made quick work of the buttons, dragged a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, then turned to me.
Helping him fasten the mantle’s clasps had become my favorite part of the morning. A small act, but one heavy with meaning. I helped him shoulder his kingdom, settling the weight of the golden pauldrons in place. My fingers moved with care as I fastened the chains, linking him to his nation.
He no longer carried Radaan alone. This was my vow made in quiet gestures. At his side as his partner, his equal. His friend.
Once the final link was secured, he cupped my chin and lifted my face to his. Gratitude flickered there in his bright irises, unspoken, something too deep for words.
He lingered, stealing a thin slice of the morning to pause and study me. The corner of his mouth pulled tight, a fleeting trace of pain crossing his features, before he leaned down and kissed me, erasing it.
“Shall I have Fallione wait for you?” he asked, pulling back just enough for his gaze to dip to my lace nightdress.
“Perhaps you can update me later today. I daresay I’ll need you around midday.” I ducked my head, offering him a sly smile.
“Such a needy creature.” The tight pain fled his expression at my teasing, though even I couldn’t banish the cloud of dread that hovered over him.
With a steadying breath, he squared his shoulders and turned away. His boots went on with quick, practiced jerks before he stepped out onto the deck.
I had barely splashed water on my face when the door creaked open and Freya slipped inside.
“The storm broke!” she announced, bright and breathless, already crossing to the wardrobe.
“Is Gyrak harnessed?”
“Not yet. Your brother said the beast scented land.”
My heart stuttered, and dread crept back in, cold and unwelcome. These quiet moments with Kallias felt stolen now, almost improper, with his broken kingdom so close. Tallon had seized Radaan, murdered Darius, staged his coup. The sweetness of our kiss only moments ago soured into unease.
“We must’ve traveled far in the storm,” she said, drawing a plush green dress from the rack.
“I’d expect nothing less from a Draconis captain.” My voice stayed even as I shook my head at her choice. “Red.”
She paused, holding my gaze, then the faintest curve touched her mouth. “Like their blood,” she murmured, returning the gown and pulling free a scarlet dress.
Her words stirred doubt in my chest. We were Draconis. Tallon would answer for his crimes—but these were my people now. Just as Kallias had reminded me. Was this the right choice?
