Page 138 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

My elbows were on the table, finger pointing at him. “They’re after you too! What makes us different?”

“This.” His eyes flashed before I felt a small surge of magic and heard several dull thwacks.

I turned, and my eyes widened at the sight of every single bloom in the room brutally decapitated. Nothing else showed any signs of damage. Eyes narrowed, I growled, “Hey!”

He’d been wanting to do that since the moment he stepped into the room.

“That is what makes us different,” he insisted, not sparing the flowers a single glance. “I’ve seen you defend yourself, but I was born to do it for others.” He leaned closer. “Let me.”

I had a very hard time not fidgeting under his gaze because it felt like his eyes were peeling away layers to see the scared girl underneath the prickly woman I’d become. “Is this part of the whole ‘excuse to be together’ thing?”

He nodded. “They’re going to try to claim legal jurisdiction over your magic, Luna. They tried it with me when I was a teenager and only failed because Reina fought them.”

“Your brother didn’t fight?”

He shook his head mutely, a flash of pain overwriting his features before it was wiped away by his mask of stoicism.

Berian was even worse than I’d imagined. “He should’ve fought for you,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand, offering comfort. “I’ll follow your lead in avoiding the Assembly. Though honestly, I’d rather not meet them at all.”

His eyes flicked down to where I still held his hand. By all the magic… I was going to be sleeping with him in truth at this rate.

I stood in a rush. A small flame jumped from my fingertips before I could stop it—my magic throwing a tantrum over what I refused to admit to myself. I almost tripped over my discarded shoe on the way to put some distance between us so I could figure out how to stop it from going wonky again.

Typical messy Luna.

“I’m tired. You?”

Owain lifted one eyebrow as if he knew exactly what I was doing.

Great.

“If you can spare a pillow,” he said slowly, “I’ll make myself comfortable near the hearth.”

“Take five.” My gigantic bed had a ridiculous amount of them in all shapes and sizes. He caught the first one I threw. But not the second, which struck his chest with a dull thud. Unfortunately, he caught on by the third, using a whip of shadows to deflect my feather missile.

I felt a small surge of magic off to my left. “Don’t you dare—”

A shadow snatched one of the larger pillows from the bed and launched it straight at my side. I stifled a shriek as it hit me on the shoulder.

“You cheat!” I grabbed the nearest and flung it at him with as much force as I could muster.

Owain laughed—actually laughed—as he ducked. Its sound was so pure and unrestrained, I found myself wanting to hear it again. The pillow grazed his shoulder and bounced harmlessly to the floor.

He changed tactics. He charged.

“Wait—Owain!”

He caught me around the waist as I fell backward toward the mattress. Shadows cushioned our fall as we collapsed in a tangle of furs and displaced pillows. I let out a startled, joyous laugh. For a moment, we struggled, half wrestling, half trying not to fall off the bed entirely.

Then something changed. My breath slowed as his magic brushed against mine. Mirroring his arms around me, his magic wrapped around mine entirely.

We both fell silent, leaving only the quiet crackle of the hearth, the sound of our synchronized breathing, and the faint rustle of settling furs. My own smile lingered a second longer before slowly softening.

I was still clutching the front of his tunic. He hadn’t let go. But neither of us moved.

His chin rested lightly on the top of my head, one hand spread across my back as if he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip. The heat radiating from him penetrated the fabric separating us.

Owain exhaled slowly, just as I did the same.