Page 105 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“Clara. Your sister’s chamber connects to yours,” she says, turning before we can say anything.

Ryker shrugs and keeps walking with Clara asleep on his shoulder.

The next door is further away, the last door on this side of the space. “For you. You will be summoned for the morning meal after you’ve had time to talk and settle in.”

Before I can ask her about clothing, she’s gone.

I look down, finding my beautiful gown now completely ruined with mud and sand.

“Well, shall we?” Ryker asks, holding the door open for me. Once the door is closed, I turn in the space, allowing myself a moment to soak it all in.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” I mutter.

The chamber is spacious, with dark stone floors cut into uneven squares and pieced together. Rugs soften the ground, and low furniture looks as though you could fall into it and never leave. Pillared candles, lanterns, and glass vessels filled with flame line the floors and walls, casting a warm glow through the dim space.

A tree grows to the right of the space, and a fireplace on my left, with the hearth covered in more candles, a warm fire already alight. A door is closed that leads to Clara’s room. Through the arch beyond the tree, we find the bed chamber.

Greenery fills the space along with candles and sweet aromas.

“Well.” Ryker sighs at my side. “Do you want to talk, bathe, or eat first?”

I turn to face him. He opens a door off our bed chamber and then disappears for a moment, returning with empty arms. He keeps the door propped open. When his eyes meet mine, tears burn in my throat.

I look down, my chest tight as I take in the sight of my ice-blue gown. The delicate stars are now coated with Malayan and Auralan sand, and the hem is heavy with the mud of a beach that feels a lifetime away. It is a ruined mess of a life I left behind—a dress for a ceremony that never happened.

How symbolic.

I hold both his hands in mine and, for the first time, allow myself to open my senses fully. I allow our Bond to flow unrestricted, wrapping around his mind and heart. I step closer, burying my face in his chest and inhaling the scent of home—sandalwood, sea, citrus, and Ryker. His palms grip my hips as he pulls our bodies flush.

Heartbeats pass where neither of us moves, but a need lashes out, reminding me I haven’t so much as touched him in days.

“Can we do all three?” I ask, my voice muffled by his lapel.

He steps back with a heated gaze, already removing his coat as he steps into the bathing chamber. “It’s full. And warm,” he says, his voice dropping an octave as he looks back at me.

The chamber is a sanctuary of shadow and flickering light. A sunken circular tub of polished stone sits at the center, the warm water reflecting hundreds of candles tucked into every available alcove and stone ledge. It smells of rosemary and lavender, and something old. I watch, my eyes never straying, as he undresses.

“Come here, love,” he says.

My steps are shaky, but when I reach him, my palms slide up his bare chest.

“I wanted to see your wedding gown,” he murmurs against my skin as the straps of my dress fall. His breath hitches as the ruined silk pools at my feet, leaving nothing between us but heat. “But gods…all I’ve wanted since we hit the beach was to strip the world away from you and remind you that you’re mine.”

My cheeks heat as he tilts my chin up. Standing flush, I only come to his pecs—I’m not complaining, the view is amazing—but when I look into his eyes, something in my chest tightens. Everything feels too big. Too uncertain.

“Today has been a long day,” he says, softer now. “Let’s bathe and eat, then we can talk before bed. I’ll need to check in with Clara and Trysten.”

I nod, because I should want that too. Because we should check in. We should think about everything waiting for us.

But I don’t move.

I can’t.

The Bond between us pulls tight, something restless and unsteady curls beneath my skin. I need him.

His gaze shifts, darkening as if he feels it too. “Raea…”

My fingers curl into him. “Don’t,” I whisper. I don’t even know what I’m asking—but he does.