Page 41 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“You know why. And I don’t have to answer to him.”

I can feel Ezra’s eyeroll from here.

Ryker’s body heat wraps around me from behind as I feel his front brush my back. He leans down, his mouth hovering above my ear. “Two choices, Soraea,” he murmurs, his breath a hot caress against my ear. “We go inside, wash up, and endure a formal dinner with the crowns. Or you beat me right here, and we vanish for the rest of the night.” He presses a soft kiss to my neck, making my skin erupt in goosebumps. “You choose.”

My response comes with the raising of my sword as I spin out of his proximity. “You didn’t answer my question,” I say as I bring my blade down.

He barely raises his in time. Shocked and amused, he takes a step back, strolling around the pit. I swear the arrogance is both infuriating and attractive. I can’t get distracted, though. I want to win this round, and then I’m going to take him to my rooms where I want to feel his mouth all over me.

Steel rings against steel as Ryker’s blade catches mine, the impact rattling up my arm. He steps back with infuriating ease, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. “Careful, Princess. You’re letting your emotions lead again.”

“I’m letting my motivation lead,” I snap, lunging forward. “How are you here?”

He pivots, blocking my strike with a lazy twist of his wrist. “Ah, yes. The noble cause of avoiding dinner with your parents. And I took a transport, obviously.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” I bare my teeth. “If I win, you stay with me tonight.”

His brows lift. “Bold strategy.”

I swing harder.

He parries, spinning me enough that my balance wavers. “But you’re forgetting one crucial thing.”

“And what’s that?”

He leans in, voice low. “You’re terrible when you’re distracted.”

I shove him back and attack again, forcing him to retreat this time. Our blades clash in a rapid rhythm, sparks flaring as we circle each other. “You’re the one doing the distracting,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Is it working?”

Unfortunately. But gods, just him existing is distracting.

He moves faster, pushing me into defense. My arms burn, breath coming in sharp, but I refuse to yield. With a sudden twist, I lock our swords together, the metal crossed between us. We’re frozen in a stalemate—faces inches apart, chests rising in sync.

His grin softens. “Looks like we’re evenly matched.” In more ways than one.

I glance around—and freeze. The training yard is empty. No guards. No Ezra barking orders. Only us.

My gaze snaps back to Ryker’s. “What did you do?”

His eyes darken with amusement. “Let’s just say Ezra owes me.”

The air shifts, becoming heavy and charged. My pulse thunders in my ears.

“Well?” he murmurs. “What’s your move, Princess?” His lips are so close, and his scent wraps around me, healing the dark, broken pieces of me.

I drop my blade. His sword clatters to the stone a heartbeat later. And then he’s pulling me in, his mouth crashing against mine with a heat that steals the air from my lungs. I fist his pressed shirt, every nerve lighting up as the kiss deepens—desperate, consuming, anything but restrained.

His hands cup my ass, lifting me as I wrap my ankles around his waist. His tongue moves with mine, refamiliarizing even though it’s been a week. My hands wrap around his neck, feeling his warm skin. I pull myself closer, having the strange desire to crawl inside of him and never leave.

As if that were even possible.

When we finally part, breathless, his forehead rests against mine.

“So,” he murmurs. “Dinner with your parents or…?”

I smile. “Stalemate.”