Page 79 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

I study Bastian's face, searching for the King who would sacrifice everything for a win, but all I see is a father who knows this might be our only chance to stop the shadows.

“Have you spoken with Raea about this?” I ask, running a hand through my hair.

“It was her idea.”

I find Raea in her rooms as she prepares for bed. Mera is braiding her hair as I enter. She grins at me through the mirror.

“Hi, Prince,” she says, giggling as she plays with the necklace I gifted her.

“Princess,” I say, dropping onto the chaise.

Mera ties off her hair and wishes us both a good night before disappearing.

Raea studies me in the mirror a few heartbeats before she spins to face me. “You’re staring.”

A smile pulls at my mouth. “Observing.”

Her bare legs stretch out before her as she leans back. “That’s a poetic way to admit you’re staring.”

I hum, letting my gaze slide over her. Gods, I’m obsessed with everything about her. “You make it easy to forget my words, love.” Clearing my throat, I add, “So you think we should go to the Drift?”

She laughs and stands, her robes dragging behind before she settles in my lap. “I do. Will you come?”

The scent of frost blooms and fresh rain consumes my senses along with the hum of our Bond. “I’d follow you anywhere, Soraea.”

Her palm rubs along my jaw where there’s now a short beard. “I love this,” she whispers before her lips press into mine. I smile, then wrap my hand around her neck, bringing her closer. Her tongue darts out, and I immediately taste mint.

She shifts in my lap, straddling me now as she deepens our kiss. There is a frantic edge to her kiss, a biological hunger that mirrors the hum in my own blood. After days apart, my hunger for her has turned into starvation.

I don’t want her—I need the physical anchor of her skin against mine to quiet the storm the war room reports left in my head.

When her robe hits the floor, revealing the lilac gossamer, every thought of the Drift or the mission vanishes. There is only starlight wrapped in wisps of fabric, and gods, she is everything I’ve ever wanted.

My hands slide to her waist, then to her ass, tugging her closer. I’ve been dreaming about getting her naked and back in my sheets all week.

“Fuck,” I breathe.

She giggles, smiling against my lips. “Another wedding present that couldn’t wait.”

“Is that so?” I lean back, letting my gaze fall over her. Her skin looks like a milky shade of silk. Under the thin material of her nightgown, I can see her breasts full and perky, her nipples hard. When I let my gaze fall further, I notice she’s not wearing panties again. “Soraea,” I groan. “What are you doing to me?”

Her responding giggle is like music to my ears. She grips my shoulders as she leans in, her tongue running up my neck before she whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

I capture her mouth in mine, standing to walk us back to her bed chamber. Once her back hits the fluffy mound of blankets, I straighten, slowly unbuttoning my shirt. When my chest is bare, she reaches for me, pulling me down on top of her.

We’re a tangle of sloppy kisses and exploring hands—the neediness growing to a pinnacle between us. I work my way down her neck, tasting her sweet skin as I go, then move across her chest, teasing.

She whispers my name as I bring her breast to my mouth. With my gaze locked on hers, my tongue darts out. Her eyes flutter closed as she arches, her hand covering the moan that escapes her. I’m about to move to the other side when there’s a knock at her door.

We both pause until we hear another knock, then Ciara’s voice, followed by Tate’s, then Trysten’s. I mutter a curse in one of the forgotten languages and drop my forehead to Raea’s.

“Told you they aren’t here.”

“They are. I saw them come up here.”

“Maybe they don’t want to be disturbed,” Trysten drawls.

“Maybe if we stay quiet—” Raea whispers before another bang bang bang rattles the door.