Page 141 of Aryn

“Oh, I most definitely fucking can. She looked ready to burn his entire legacy to the ground. That’s a sentiment I support with my whole heart.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “We might have to protect Xeni now that she knows he’s Zadeus’s son.”

Cato grumbles the way he always does whenever Xeni is mentioned, then huffs a tired laugh and nuzzles deeper into my neck. “You really think she’ll help us?”

“I do,” I answer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “She has every reason to now. Her son, her world, her future—they’re all tangled together in this. It’s one big war, and she just became its most dangerous player.”

We fall quiet again. The burden we’ve been carrying feels different now that someone with real power finally believes us. Not lighter, necessarily, but shared.

Cato’s voice is softer when he speaks. “We might actually have a chance.”

I pull him tighter against me, my tail curling around his leg. “We do. And we’re going to take it.”

“Gonna take you,” he murmurs, eyes already fluttering closed.

A tired smile tugs at my lips. I nuzzle into his hair, breathing him in. “Is that so? You can barely keep your eyes open, kitten.”

“Mmm. Still gonna,” he mumbles, pressing a lazy kiss to my collarbone. “Gonna pin you down… make you forget your own name.”

My hand slides slowly down his back. “Bold words for someone who’s already half-asleep. I could roll you over right now and you’d probably just start snoring.”

Cato makes a weak, indignant sound. “Would not. I’d… I’d take it like a champion. Real heroic-like. Moan real pretty for you and everything.”

A smile pulls at my lips, so wide it hurts my cheeks. “Heroic moaning. Now there’s an image. My fierce wildfire reduced to sleepy, desperate noises while I take my time with him.”

He shivers against me, but it’s followed by another huge yawn. “Keep talking dirty and I might actually wake up. Maybe. Or better idea… I’ll just lie here and let you do all the work.”

I chuckle softly and nip at his ear. “Spoiled already, huh? You’d just lie there looking pretty while I fuck you, wouldn’t you?”

“Exactly,” he slurs, sounding far too pleased with himself. “Gonna be so good for you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I murmur fondly, kissing his temple again. “Go to sleep, love. You can be my desperate little champion in the morning.”

“Promise you’ll still want me when I’m drooling on your chest?” he asks, already drifting.

My arms tighten around him. “I’ll always want you. Even when you’re snoring and drooling.”

“No one said anything about snoring, but you keep bringing it up.” He nuzzles closer with a sigh, and soon his breathing evens out into the deep, steady rhythm of sleep. I stay awake a little longer, holding him close and listening to the fire crackle while I enjoy the solid weight of him in my arms.

I want this—want him—forever. I want a future made of countless nights just like this one, and for the first time in a long time, that future doesn’t feel impossible.

The next day belongs to the two of us. Ronan and Cameron stay behind at the castle to spend time with Ailynor, and no one wants to intrude. Everyone else scatters to explore on their own, so Cato and I slip out early. We have no plans, no one else around, and—most importantly—no responsibilities.

I thought I would feel guilty for taking a day to ourselves, but it never comes. Ailynor has summoned her top council, but they have to travel to the castle. There’s nothing we can do but wait, and pacing the corridors until they arrive is no more productive than exploring the city. Rhael slips us some coins before we leave, telling us to enjoy ourselves. I argue that we have plenty of money, but Cato has no such reservations. He snags them and shoves them into his pocket with a happy little jingle before I can object.

We wander the capital like any other couple, holding hands as we drift through the market district and stopping at every stall that catches our eye. Glassblowers shape baubles and orbs that hang in a kaleidoscope of colors from the rafters, and weavers work with shimmering thread that shifts in the light. I buy a soft wool scarf in deep crimson—almost the color of my skin—and wrap it around Cato’s neck, stealing a kiss while I adjust it.

“You look good in my colors,” I murmur against his lips.

He laughs and tugs me down for another kiss, right in the middle of the crowded street. “Possessive today, huh?”

“Always.”

A few people openly stare at our affections, though there’s no hostility in their gaze. People here aren’t used to seeing humans paired with our kind. We’re a novelty to some, but most give us privacy.

New food carts appear around every corner, and we stop at far too many. Cato decides the spiced roasted nuts are his favorite, while I can’t stop eating the sugar-glazed fruit skewers. He insists on feeding me bites as we walk, grinning when I playfully nip his fingers. We stop at a pub for an ale, share a real meal at a small restaurant, and walk the streets with no set destination.

It’s incredible, but more than that, it’s what could be if the future allows it.