Page 88 of The Crowned Queen

Thirty-Two

Araya leaned back against the natural seat formed by the stone ledge, stretching her arms wide across the moss-slick rock as though her heart wasn’t hammering against her ribs. Water lapped against her skin as the others scrambled out of the spring, tugging their discarded clothing on over still-damp skin.

They might as well not have existed to Loren. His eyes never left hers, his hands moving slowly down his shirt, baring the scarred skin of his chest button by button.

Caela was the last to leave the water. The other female turned her back on Loren, deliberately ignoring the darkness spreading like ink across the crystal-clear water. Her bright blue eyes sparkled, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Give him hell,” she murmured, her voice pitched for Araya’s ears alone. Her voice rose, bright and irreverent as she hauled herself out of the water. “Nothing to see here, friends. Just a mated male letting his ego get ahead of his brain.”

“Goodbye, Caela,” Loren growled.

He shrugged off his shirt, dropping it to the ground beside his sword belt. He’d changed in the months they’d been apart, the vivid marks where dara’el had torn at him now faded to silver scars. New muscle rippled along his torso. She wasn’t the only one that had been training.

“This is your last chance,” he warned as the others disappeared into the trees, their voices fading until only steam and birdsong remained. His hands dropped to the laces of his breeches, tugging them loose with sharp, furious movements. “Get out of the water, ael’sura.”

Araya cocked her head, pretending to consider it. He had to be able to hear her heart racing, had to realize the flush climbing her chest wasn’t because of the heat of the water. She stretched deliberately, triumph flooding her veins as he fumbled with the ties.

She rose to her feet. The little shadow chose that moment to unwind itself from her wrist, darting away to vanish into the inky blackness that had swallowed most of the spring. But Loren didn’t even see it go, his attention transfixed by the water cascading down her body.

“Good.” His gaze slid over her wet, flushed skin, his voice ragged. “Now just step out and get your clothes⁠—”

“Lorendrael,” Araya said, letting his name roll slowly off her tongue.

His gaze snapped back to hers, his pupils blown so wide Araya couldn’t even see the brilliant green. The raw hunger there sent a shiver down her spine, her mouth going dry. His whole body tensed when her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, his pulse hammering in his throat.

But he still thought he was winning.

Araya smiled sweetly at him, watching the exact moment realization dawned across his face.

Loren shoved his pants over his hips, cursing as they tangled around his ankles. “This isn’t a game, Araya,” he snapped. “Get out of the damn water.”

“Make me.” Araya challenged, nervous energy humming through her veins like lightning. Then she dove, plunging into the inky-black water.

Loren’s shadows made it impossible to see her hand in front of her face—but Araya didn’t need to. She kicked hard, gliding through the hot water and inky darkness until her outstretched hand brushed the jutting rock ledge she’d spotted earlier.

She pulled herself onto it, gripping the smooth stone with her toes as her head and shoulders broke the surface of the water.

“Araya!” Loren was already in the water, cutting across the deeper water toward her with powerful strokes. He reached the shelf in seconds, his eyes widening as he realized she was standing.

“Of all the reckless, stupid—” he pulled himself up, water sluicing from his shoulders as he stormed toward her. “Do you even know how to swim?”

“I can swim,” Araya took a step back, finding the edge of the ledge with her toes.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, closing the distance, water streaming down his chest. “If you jump⁠—”

“You’ll chase me?” Araya widened her eyes, letting her voice go breathless. “Do you promise?”

Loren scowled. “You’re still healing. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself⁠—”

Well. That was enough of that.

Araya shifted her weight, glancing back over her shoulder like she was getting ready to throw herself back off the ledge. Loren swore, throwing himself across the remaining space between them⁠—

Araya stepped forward instead of back.

Loren’s eyes widened, but he had already overcommitted. Araya grabbed his wrist and pivoted, dropping her weight just like she’d practiced with Caela over and over again.

She only meant to toss him into the water. To show him she wasn’t as helpless as she looked.