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‘If you need something to believe,’ he said, his blood heating as he closed the gap between them and hauled her body to his, ‘then believe this.’
He kissed her.
It was the kiss he’d been dying to give her, the kiss that fractured every doubt between them and reforged the cracks with something golden. She tasted just as he remembered, like hope and salvation, like home andhis.
Thea’s mouth opened for him, her hands closing around the back of his neck as his tongue brushed hers. Her lips were warm and lush against his own, her body melting into his, sending bolts of longing straight to his hard, aching cock.
He devoured her, his urgency dark, frenzied and unchecked as his hands roved across her curves, curves he’d dreamt of worshipping again for so long.
Her body answered his kiss in kind, grinding against him, seeking that all-consuming friction between them. Her palms drifted down across the broad expanse of his chest, and she moaned against his lips, the sound nearly undoing him where he stood.
White-hot need blazed through him and everything else fell away but for the woman growing molten beneath his touch. Shemet every sweep of his tongue, every scrape of his teeth with her own, only harder and fiercer.
‘Thea…’ he murmured, unable to stand the feverishness of his own skin, needing to rid them of the layers between them —
She broke their kiss, panting, pulling back from him with one hand clutching the leather string that held both her fate stone and the key to his irons. Her eyes were lined with tears.
‘I can’t…’ Her voice broke then, along with Wilder’s heart.
It took all his Furies-given strength not to fall to his knees. ‘For whatever it’s worth,’ he told her hoarsely, ‘I’ll never stop being yours.’
‘Wilder, I —’
But her words were cut off by the distinct rattling of armour, and within moments, the Aveum Kingsguard darkened the doorway of the stall.
‘Guardian Zoltaire,’ the commander addressed Thea, bowing his head in respect. ‘We were informed of your arrival, and your great victory in capturing the fugitive, Wilder Hawthorne.’
He looked momentarily perturbed by the single set of manacles around Wilder’s wrists, but he gave a firm nod to his men. Half a dozen guards surged forward, roughly taking Wilder into custody.
Irons were clamped around his ankles. Thick, alchemy-treated chains were fastened around his torso, trapping his arms at his sides. As each link locked in place, Wilder felt more and more of his strength dampening. Wren had shared her concoction with the rulers, it seemed.
Thea watched on, not wiping the expression of horror from her face.
‘Worry not, Guardian Zoltaire,’ the commander reassured her. ‘There’s no escaping justice for him this time. We’ll take it from here.’
She schooled her features into something that resembled indifference and gave the man a nod.
‘You’re invited to meet with the rulers in the throne room,’ he added, before shoving Wilder towards the door.
Even with his strength diminished, it took all six men to escort him away from Thea. For the first time since they’d found one another again, she looked unsure.
Good, he thought.Then this was all worth it.
He lifted his chin as they led him not to the rulers of the midrealms, but to the ice dungeons deep below the frozen earth. There was to be no trial, no reckoning today.
As he was forced into a freezing cell and the icy air hit his lungs, Wilder closed his eyes. He had done all he could.
It was up to Thea now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEA
Thea, Cal and Kipp stood before the rulers of the midrealms in the glass throne room of Vios. Crystal-clear floor-to-ceiling windows gave a full view of the mountains behind the floating domes and the great frozen lake.
The entire space was adorned with finery, furs and glimmering light. It was the embodiment of opulence, wealth, power. Beautiful, and yet… lacking. Thea realised she missed the Great Hall of the fortress back in Thezmarr, its simplicity, its unlikely warmth.
Although the cavernous space around her now was enchanted to keep the wintry air at bay, Thea felt cold to her bones. Before her stood King Artos of Harenth, King Leiko of Tver, and King Elkan and Queen Reyna of Aveum. All of them wore cloaks of thick fur, and intricate jewelled crowns atop their heads.
