Page 42 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

His answering grin is wicked. “I’ll take it.”

I lead Ryker through the halls of the palace, annoyed at every person who stands in our way. Guards bow, members of the court welcoming him to Kyrr, some of them whispering and gossiping as I lead him to the family wing.

“I’ve been given the rooms across from yours,” he says as we approach.

Aksel is standing guard in my hall and dips his chin as I say hello. We inform him we’ll be preoccupied the rest of the evening, earning a subtle twitch of his lips.

The doors to my chamber close as Ryker shoves me against them, his mouth consuming mine once more.

“Need…to…shower,” I say between kisses.

His mouth moves to my neck, kissing softly as he says, “I could always lick you clean.”

I laugh, shoving him away. “No thanks.”

I find Mera humming to herself, the shower already steaming with my favorite oils. I shower quickly, taking extra care to wash certain areas as she pulls clothes for me. She chooses a green cotton dress that billows around me and brushes the tops of my feet. The open back is daringly low and absolutely perfect. She dries my hair as I moisturize my body.

When I exit my bathing chamber, I find Ryker lounging on my bed, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, not a care in the world. His eyes are closed, but when I draw near to him, he smiles. “You smell delicious.”

I smile and crawl onto the bed beside him. I take in the hard lines of his face, the purple smudges beneath his eyes. “Are you tired?”

He’s silent for a long moment. “Malaya is too quiet without you,” he confesses, pulling me into the dip of his chest. The dark circles under his eyes aren't from exhaustion—they're from the same fear that’s been stalking me.

It’s nearing morning on Malaya right now, and I realize he’s been up this whole time. Guilt settles over me, and I decide that I want nothing more than for him to get good rest. Even though I’m not tired, I close my eyes, letting the feeling of wholeness and safety wash over me. Somewhere deep within me, our Bond settles. Like a tuning fork of an instrument vibrating.

I hadn’t realized how off it had been.

He brushes a kiss to the top of my head. “This isn’t how I planned on spending the evening.”

I smile. “Go to sleep, Prince. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He shuffles us, removing his shirt, kicking off his shoes and pants until he’s in nothing but his boxer-briefs. I pull back the covers, crawling in beside him.

It takes minutes before his breathing deepens, his features grow softer. Once I know he’s truly asleep, I slip out of bed, gobbling down the plate of food that must have arrived when I was in the shower, and then prop open the doors to the terrace. The night sky is clear and endless. Somewhere up there, the truth of what is to come is lying in wait. Someday soon, I’ll have to face all of it. Face an army made of nightmares.

I find my Prism, settle onto a settee, and message Elison. Minutes later, there's a quiet knock, and the books I requested are waiting at the door. I say goodnight to Aksel before I close the doors.

I spend my evening on the settee, reading and catching up until I’m so tired that the words blur together. I slip back under the covers, Ryker’s heat shielding against the chill of the room. That scent of ocean storms and citrus groves wraps me in safety. But as I close my eyes, the words from Elison’s texts bleed into my vision.

Yet in the wake of dawn, a shadowed crown will rise—not in harmony, but in hunger.

Chapter 17

Raea

Freshly bathed and fueled by the healers' tonic, I head for Ryker’s rooms. He isn't there, but I don't need a map to find him. The Aethermark Bond is a thrum under my skin, pulling me toward the library. I used to resent this connection. Now, it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

I look both directions before crossing the hall into the study, where the strongest pull comes from. I slip inside, closing the door behind me. He’s alone and gods, he looks good. Or is that my hormones?

He looks up and grins. He’s got the book in his hand. The one about the prophecy. He must have taken it with him when he slipped out of bed this morning. He had kissed me once, telling me to go back to sleep. I guess he had the same idea. I make my way across the room, tossing out any sense of self-preservation as I throw my arms around his body and kiss him.

Somewhere, distantly, my nerves are going crazy, but I need to tell him.

“I’m not complaining, but what did I do to deserve this?” he asks against my lips.

“I love you,” I blurt out before I can stop myself. “I love you, and I have wanted to tell you so many times. I had this grand idea to tell you on your birthday and⁠—”

He stops my rambling with another deep kiss, bringing my body flush with his, the book pressing into my back. I feel high on life. I didn’t realize how much I needed to tell him. I never want to stop saying it.