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“The place where she should be is empty. I know. I feel it, too.”
“I shouldn’t have kept it from you. That was dishonorable of me.” He and I had been consorts for years, but what we had wasn’t supposed to exist. He’d been my everything for so long. Yet when I’d made the vow with Regan, I hadn’t told him how it had made me feel. Instead, I’d gone so far as to let my grandmother betroth me to Florence Shen before I’d finally had to admit to myself the pull that was there. I’d planned to tell Lysander that very night, to see if he’d felt something, too. But then a dragon had descended on Veilmar, and everything had gone to hell.
He laughed. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“Even for an Avari, apparently.” His blue eyes sparkled. “We will get her back. We’ll make Viktor pay. But for now, let me help you heal. Regan will be with us soon. I swear to you.”
My heart sped up. “What do you mean? Are you saying you’ve seen it?”
Lysander was an Orphos, their house’s motto Blood of Dreamers. They didn’t advertise their abilities—and not everyone of their bloodline possessed the same level of skill. Most people outside of Orphos thought their house was weak—even strange—and that was exactly how Lysander and his family wanted it. Strange and weak meant underestimated, overlooked, ignored. You could accomplish a lot more when your enemies thought you weren’t worth watching.
“You asshole,” I exclaimed. “I should have known. What did you see? Tell me.”
He clasped my shoulders. “Calm down. You know it doesn’t work like that. Well, not always,” he amended.
I leaned in to him. “Tell me.” I brushed my lips against his.
He shuddered. “I saw her in our future. Yours and mine.”
“How long? How long have you known it would be her?”
Lysander didn’t answer right away. Instead he fit his mouth against mine with a quiet confidence that stole my breath away. His hands slid into my hair. The kiss deepened, our lips moving hungrily. I made a low sound before I could stop myself. He smelled so good. Familiar. Comforting. This was the kind of intimacy that could only come from years of unspoken trust.
My fingers moved instinctively to the front of his shirt, searching for the buttons. He was the ice to my wolf’s heat. The calm to my fire. He was clean fresh air and stoic resolve—and something … something that steadied me even as it pulled, sending my pulse skidding wildly out of control.
He broke the kiss, hand sliding to hold the back of my neck, his forehead resting against mine as he met my gaze. “You didn’t betray me.”
I felt a lump in my throat.
“You protected her. And us.”
Something hot and wet pricked at the corners of my eyes. “I fucking lost her, Lysander. I lost her.”
He met my eyes, his own calm. “We’ll find her. And we’ll be together. Once we have her back, we will never, ever let her go.”
It was all I could do to move my lips. “Never,” I whispered in agreement. The word felt heavy. Sacred.
His thumb traced the corner of my mouth slowly. “Now you’re bleeding through your bandages. If you keep standing, you will collapse on the floor.”
My Avari pride pricked at me. “Suppose I wouldn’t want that,” I grumbled.
“No,” he agreed. “Not that I’d mind. At least you’d probably be unconscious.”
“Unable to run. Bleeding. Prone. Just the way you like me,” I joked.
He licked his lips playfully and raised one eyebrow. Then he gave a gentle push to my chest with both his hands. “Lie down, Avari.”
I pretended to fall backward onto the bed. It creaked beneath my weight.
“Bloodmaiden,” I cursed, grimacing as the pain in my chest flared at the sudden movement. “That hurts.”
I moved to scoot back, and Lysander was already there, bracing me, helping me lean back onto the pillows. He shifted his body to lie on his side as he stretched out beside me.
“Poor little wolf,” he whispered teasingly.
I could feel his warmth. He braced one arm above his head, leaning on it, then rested the other lightly on the bare skin at my waist, just above the edge of my trousers—the gesture possessive.
