Page 103 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Barron was coming. It was happening all over again.

With a roll of his shoulders, Raiden summoned his power. His heart hammered as the weight of the world fell away, his muscles loosening to the point his body became light as a feather. Warm wind supported him with steeled strength as he shot into the sky, breathing in the misted air.

Despite it thinning, the far reaches of Galen were still smothered, the Horrow Mountains barely visible. Even Skybell couldn’t be seen. Raiden soared up and up, his hair flying back, his eyes tearing as the Mist endlessly continued above.

He released a crushing yell as he came to a harsh stop. His entire body thrummed with power, a well of magic that was infinite, freely coursing through him. The only time he’d remotely reached a limit was keeping Erick Cadell alive. A punishment for interfering with his fate.

Kora had fallen asleep at his bedside once again last night. Sirona had fetched Raiden, requesting him to carry her to her chambers so Sirona could bathe and change Erick modestly. As he’d carried her back to the west wing, she’d mumbled in her sleep about getting stronger, and healing Erick fully. Raiden’s chest tightened, her salted vanilla scent lingering on his skin. It was a dangerous risk. Kora wanted to heal Erick fully, to bring him out of his mysterious coma.

That kind of magic would come at a cost. A fateful cost.

His yell echoed through the sky, followed by a roll of thunder as he released the tension that’d been cresting within him. Kordelia was truly gone, and instead this huntress of wonderment had taken her place.

More refugees would soon start flooding Galen—if they could make it. Citizens of the city had welcomed them with open arms, offering spare rooms. In comparison, his father had become more elusive than ever, fleeing to the west. As he always did whenever things became too difficult. And Barron was winning. He was gods-damned fucking winning.

Raiden exhaled, closing his eyes as he floated onto his back, his power supporting him like a cloud. He recalled flashes of moonlight shine, followed by the sleight of azure eyes. Despite once loving Kordelia, something about Kora sang to him. Her fierce temperament, her loyalty, her desires in life. She was a warm summer’s day; his magic responded to her in a whole new way. As well as his body.

And she grieved. She grieved so hard he could hear her nightmares through the walls. They woke him up as well, followed by her fear and deep sadness down the bond. Every time it happened, he would slam back down into his newly cushioned room. Black and blue bruises dotted his back, a patchwork he gladly bore if it meant Kora was alive and breathing.

As the first droplets of rain splashed onto Raiden’s face, he rotated, and like a moth to a flame, instantly located where Kora was in the castle. He soared down, the wind whipping at his shirt and jerkin, his boots wavering in the air as the wind picked up from the oncoming storm. He strolled through the front gate, the guards either side unsurprised when Raiden had floated down. Living with the Windwards regularly involved some kind of floatation.

A smile played with Raiden’s lips as the bond guided him back to the arena, where Kora sparred with Aryn. Sweat slicked her muscles, her jacket discarded once more as her and Aryn fought without weapons. He was fast, using his unknown power to run circles around her. Raiden hovered in the shadows as Kora’s eyes dizzied trying to track her opponent.

Just as Raiden was ready to help, her hand shot out, a blast of water soaking Aryn where he stood.

“Stop spinning!” Kora groaned, bowing over like she was going to be sick.

“You caught me though.” Aryn grinned, sauntering over as he patted her back. “Your reflexes are improving. Your wielding is the best I’ve seen it at, and you’re nearly back to your full strength.”

“They’re not improving fast enough,” Kora stood straight. “It’s three weeks until the next full moon. My power is nowhere near ready.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Aryn placed both hands on her shoulders. “As your skildaj, I go where you go, Captain. Your power has improved already today. I can sense it.”

Kora smiled up at him, and something in Raiden roared. His mind fractured, the bond searing bright in his mind. Had she reaccepted the bond with Aryn? Kora leant into Aryn, and Raiden’s chest heaved, his fists clenching so hard he saw stars. Her eyelids were heavy, her mouth parting. Was she . . . were they about to kiss?

He must’ve blacked out because the next thing Raiden knew he grabbed Aryn by the back of his shirt, hauling him from the training ring.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Raiden seethed, his emotions heightened. He couldn’t think straight as vanilla and sea salt hit him square in the face, but something else lingered beneath.

“We’re sparring,” Kora gritted out. “What are you doing?”

Raiden paused as Aryn glared up at him, his golden eyes flashing once in warning. Raiden released him, stumbling back. What was he doing? Fuck. Aryn was with Aerion—not Kora. What was he thinking?

“He was . . . you were . . .”

“We were what?” Kora snapped, her hands on her hips as she glared at him. Gods damn.

“You’ve accepted the Tvinnr Fyr bond.” The words slipped from Raiden’s mouth. Kora stilled, her nostrils flaring. Aryn sidled up to her, his hand protectively resting on her shoulder.

“It was never broken,” he confirmed.

Amber and cypress entwined with Kora’s scent, and it sickened Raiden. His beast roared, a steel cry, and a stabbing pain exploded in his chest. The bond between them was murky, smothered by Aryn, a new lifeline irrevocably tied to Kora.

“A vow is sacred in Galen,” Raiden uttered. “Did he tell you of the consequences?”

Kora wavered, her mouth parting. Concern flickered across her face before her mask returned, shutting it down, smoothing out the planes of her skin, sea-blue eyes turning glacial. Fuck. “I don’t need to know. I trust Aryn with my life.”

Rage consumed Raiden. It burned so bright that Kora winced, the bond heating with such intensity. Aryn was fucking playing her. He blinked, his stare hardening, darkness leaking through, toying at the edges of his irises. Raiden did a double take as Aryn’s tattoo rippled on his skin.