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She had told him once that she was ashamed of it—the part of her soul that had been broken, bent and shaped into a monster, and his heart ached for her. He did not want her to hate herself for something over which she had no control. It was slowly killing her.

Rymedur saw how her light dimmed each time she returned from a mission. Saw the way she shut herself out and kept that part of herself locked away in the presence of their children. He knew she was afraid of scaring them. Afraid Rymedur would stop loving her.

But he could never do that. He did not even think it possible.

He only wished that she could be his wholly, completely, but there was something between them. It was like a golden thread tied them together, but at its centre lay a tangled knot. No matter how they tried to remedy it, something always prevented them from succeeding.

‘Will you help me get ready?’ Areanel drew Rymedur from his thoughts. He looked at her—really looked—at how her radiant smile reached her brilliant eyes. She seemed to glow with happiness when she was around their children. She was truly happy. He wanted to be the reason she smiled like that for the rest of their lives.

Without a word, Rymedur rose from the floor and called for the nursemaid to take their daughter.

Chapter 7

Areanel

Soft, buttery, youthful giggles echoed in the halls as retreating heels clicked across the floors of the mountain palace Areanel called home.

Areanel stripped away her morning gown, letting the satin fabric fall in a puddle of molten silver around her feet. Staring at her reflection in the large, ornate mirror, she raised a hand to trace the thin chain of her necklace. Anxiety bubbled within her at the thought of facing the lords in court as her fingertips trailed to clutch the dainty gem at the chain’s centre.

Inhaling deeply, Areanel allowed herself a moment’s reprieve to settle her racing thoughts and calm her mind. Stretching her neck to one side, she felt the muscle pull. Turning the other way, she repeated the action until she heard a satisfying crack.

Rolling her shoulders, she eased the tension from her muscles and reached for her court attire, throwing the ebony gown over her head. The material felt hard and sturdy against her marred skin, and the outfit was an apt representation of the danger she was heading into. A form of armour. With it on, confidence surged through her. Areanel was ready to face the vultures of the Andrean court.

Steady and sure steps approached from behind, and a gentle, featherlight touch whispered against her skin, leaving goosebumps in their path as Rymedur drew up from her bare wrists, shoulders, then down her back. Shadows danced in the wake of his wicked, velvet touch. Cold. Phantom. A whispered promise of what was to come. Soft and tender, like he was mapping out what he wanted to do to her. The thought made a delighted shiver race up her spine.

Areanel couldn’t believe there had ever been a time she despised his touch. In the early years of their marriage, she had hated the way he gravitated towards her. The subtle touches, the close proximity… she distanced herself from it all. But now, as Rymedur continued his delicate strokes along her skin, Areanel sucked in a sharp inhale at the lightning that followed.

Rymedur placed a light kiss on her shoulder, and the action melted her tension, soothing her worries and easing her mind. Years of being close to her proved he knew just the right things to do to calm her nerves.

His kisses continued, deliberate and slow as they travelled along her skin.

Her heart beat rapidly, taking on a galloping pace as it hammered against her chest. The room suddenly seemed far too hot. Did the palace aides leave the fire blazing, or was it Rymedur’s actions that made her feel all of a sudden flushed?

Fingertips danced along the edge of her gown. Goosebumps chased the soft touch as he slowly reached for the ties at her back. Heat rose to her cheeks. She shouldn’t have asked him to help her dress. All she could think about was how much she wanted him.

Damn the council; they could wait!

Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Areanel was certain a blush spread across her entire body. She needed distance. Air. Something!

His movements were slow.

Taking his time, Rymedur’s fingers brushed against her skin as his breath fanned over her neck. His kisses left a burning trail along the shell of her ear, up to its pointed peak. He nipped at the skin, knowing full well what reaction she would have. She had been the one to teach him just how sensitive elven ears are. The thought, followed by the graze of Rymedur’s teeth, had Areanel biting her lower lip to suppress the moan that threatened to rush out of her unbidden.

Areanel shuddered at the action, mind running rampant as carnal thoughts invaded. She couldn’t think clearly, and all left her mind when his sinful tongue flicked over her pointed ear, pulling a strangled sound from her lips. It was a mix between a needy moan and a flustered groan. Bitter embarrassment flittered through her at Rymedur’s answering chuckle—deep and melodic.

Did he know what he did to her?

She wanted more, so much more, but they needed to leave soon. Time was not on their side.

Her breath came out in soft pants, and heat trailed her body. Had a hummingbird suddenly taken residence where her heart should be? It was beating impossibly fast.

Pulling the ties through the loops of her gown, Rymedur’s movements were swift and deft—he had dressed her numerous times over the last two decades. Why was she reacting like this now? Was it because he had also undressed her more times than she could count? Or was it the way his lips left a trail of intense heat in their wake as he continued to worship her? Kissing and nipping at her neck, jaw, ear, wherever he could reach. Gods, he was going to be the death of her!

When he got to the last row of laces on her dress, he pulled harshly, tugging her towards him, and a surprised gasp fell from her already parted lips as her back collided with his chest. With the lack of space between their bodies, Areanel could feel Rymedur’s heart. Synced with her own, it raced at their proximity.

Rymedur held her there, flush against him. The hard muscles—ones she had mapped with her own hands, lips, tongue—pressed into her back. His size dwarfed her, a warmth encasing her in a safe blanket. Bold musk, amber and glowing, snaked its way around them.

Areanel’s neck craned. Muscles pulled as she stretched, she twisted to look up at him.