Chapter
Thirty
Galantia Present Day, beneath the stars
ebian took care of me.
He carried my exhausted body to the prattling creek, where he washed their seed fromS between my shaky legs, then righted my dress. When I shivered in the chill of the north winds, he gave me his shirt. Then he carried me to a crooked oak, flattened the bushels of dry grass beneath it with several stomps of his boots, and lowered me into its soft center.
“It’s a shame that it’s too cold for you to sleep beneath the stars, but we can still stay a while,” he said and laid beside me, pulling me tightly against him before he wedged my toes beneath his calf to keep them warm. “This is how you like it, sweetheart, isn’t it?”
Nodding, with my head resting on his chest, I inhaled the scent of moss and musk that clung to his skin. So familiar, so comforting. I ran my fingers over the curve of his shoulder and down his marred arm; my muscles tired, my mind foggy. Yes, this was how I liked it, soft and gentle and safe.
Yet my gaze drifted into the darkness before me, and to the even darker shadow within, its outline about as clear as my head. Malyr sat nearby, yet somehow far away, likely within earshot, though
showing no inclination to contribute anything but silence. As if he hadn’t, only moments ago, held me in place with rough hands and fucked me with domineering strokes.
And I’d liked that, too.
Something I’d accepted, the way he tormented my body into bliss, tortured my soul into surrender.
But that twinge beneath my ribs at the distance between us? That longing for his strong body to frame
my other side? That was new.
New and terrifying.
And confusing, because… how could I press myself against Sebian like this, soaking up his warmth, his care, the sense of protection he provided? And in the same moment, long for the closeness of the man who insisted on hating me? How could I enjoy them both, each in a different
way? How could I long for them both?
My throat tightened.
How could they allow it?
The ruffle of feathers pulled me out of my internal ramblings. Sebian’s anoa shaped out of shadows and darkness beside his arm, lifting a wing, preening beneath it before he flattened it to his body. His eyes caught on my bracelet, on those buttons that clanked as I caressed Sebian’s arm.
There was no fear when I reached for the bird, running a finger down along its throat, smiling at the way he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Do you do this often? You and Malyr? Share women the way you’re doing with me?”
Sebian looked down at me, frown lines deepening between his brows for a moment before they faded to the sensation of his arm clasping me tighter against him. “It happened on a few occasions.
Granted, none of them were his selected wife…”
A long exhale left my lungs. “This is so strange.”
“This is amazing. Strokes my ego, for sure. I never had a queen’s lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me off so nicely. And here my father thought I’d never make anything out of myself.” When I jerked my knee against his thigh, a deep chuckle vibrated in his chest, jolting my head around.
“You’re looking at this through the eyes of a human, Galantia, but we are Ravens. No matter how human we might look to you right now, we are not… not fully. Deep down in our cores, in our souls, we are animals. And what did Malyr tell you earlier, hmm? Under the spring sun, the male will…”
“Inch toward the female along a branch.”
“Yeah, well, what he failed to mention was that the fucking branch was about to snap because there were about a dozen other males trying to do the same. They puff up their feathers, spread their wings, and strut their chests, trying to convince the female to bond with them.” He stroked a strand from my cheek, eyes dipping to my lips before they found mine again. “The female chooses, sweetheart… not the other way around.”
I frowned at that. “Birds in nature. Fate chooses for your kind.”
“Few of us can rely on fate anymore, giving us no other choice but to fall back on our most animalistic instincts.” He nuzzled his nose at my hairline and down along my temple. “Marriage is a human concept, sweet thing—a strong political tool for your titled lot. Malyr knows this. But as much as Malyr might be a prince, first and foremost, he’s a Raven. Who is he to keep you from me? And who am I to keep you from him?”
“What about my secret suitor? Malyr is clearly trying to keep me from him.”
“Because he has political ambitions.”
“What about your ambitions?”
“None. If you don’t believe me, ask Asker. He’ll confirm it.” That strange hardness settled in his
jaws again. “It’s simply not in our nature to make that sort of decision for you, sweetheart.”
“You’ve robbed me of just about any decision.”
“Have we?” The question breathed down along my cheekbone. “Politics. Fucking confusing.” His mouth lingered at the corner of mine. “Or maybe you’re just too much of a temptation for both of us.”
The vibration of his voice quivered over my lips while the moisture of his breath lapped at them, sending a rush of blood into vessels that seemed to pound in my bottom lip. His eyes slipped to my lips in the inch of space between our faces. His tremulous body pressed deeper into mine. Our mouths shifted, floating closer, shyly seeking the other.
Kiss me, Sebian!
Something clacked in the nearby bushes, like a hollow tock. With frantic flutters and terrified trills, a flock of small birds fled from the shrubs. They slunk around branches and through fronds, only to lift off toward the big, bright moon.
Sebian’s lips drifted away from mine on his trembling exhale. “There might just be a fox nearby.”
And I wanted its pelt around my shoulders for how it had cost me this kiss… Frustrated, I turned my head away from the ruins of this moment and looked after the flock of birds. “When I played at the beach as a child, there was that one white seagull that used to circle the bay behind Tidestone often. I loved watching how its wings wobbled in the breeze. How it dove down, only to come back up on an easier drift.”
“If that impressed you, then I promise I’ll take you to the most western coast on sun’s day. Many of the youths mingle there after prayers at the shrine, jumping off the cliffs, testing their limits.
Nothing’s quite as daring as a boy trying to catch a girl’s attention, most certainly not a squawking seagull.”
My pulse quickened at the thought of watching them. “I’d love that.”
“It was no seagull, but a dove.”
I nearly jumped at the sudden baritone of Malyr’s voice, having all but forgotten he was there, then squinted at his shadowy outline. “How would you know what I saw?”
He rose and walked off toward the creek, mumbling, “Because there are no white seagulls along our coasts.”
I looked after him until his form blurred with the night, the air suddenly much cooler, sending a shudder across my body. “He’s in a mood.”
Sebian let out a little snort before he draped one arm over his eyes, his body shifting on the grass as if in search of more comfort. “Sweetheart, Malyr is always in one mood or another. Learn to ignore it because trying to figure out what’s going on in his head is impossible.”
Yes, and that precisely was the issue that had my stomach churn and my skull ache. There would be no seduction, no child, no alternate plan to ensure this wedding, that much Malyr had made clear.
What else was left? Trusting his word and his honor?
I wouldn’t even trust his shadow.
Quite literally.
For a long while, I watched how Malyr sat far away by the edge of the creek and stared at its moonlit surface, until a long sigh escaped me. “Do you think he’ll go through with the wedding?”
When no answer came, I lifted my head, only to find Sebian’s eyes closed, his breathing even.
Beside him, his anoa had curled its head beneath its wing and huddled into the crook of its owner’s neck. Asleep.
One deep breath bought me the semblance of bravery, then I carefully rose as not to wake the two, and walked over to the creek. Arms wrapped around myself to ward off the biting chill, I stopped
several feet behind Malyr. As much as the distance between us had ached me earlier, the closeness unnerved me more.
Malyr stilled, shifting his head a fraction of a degree, as if trying to catch sight of me along the edge of his periphery. “What of Sebian?”
“Asleep.”
Scoffing ever so slightly, he shook his head. “For five years, I tried breaking him of his self- destructive habits. Then you showed up.”
“Habits?”
“Oh, you never noticed that he was fucking drunk half the time? Either that, or his head was poisoned,” he said, making me think back on how poorly Sebian had looked the day Captain Theolif had come, and the gray discoloration on his lips. “You have a strange effect on people, little dove.”
“You included?”
Malyr rested his underarms on his bent knees, one hand shifting something in its palm with a dull grinding sound. “Did he ever tell you how he got his scars?”
Of course, he would ignore my question. “No.”
“Your former betrothed raided one of our refugee camps that was under Asker’s command.
Domren caught dozens of Ravens beneath nets while they were sleeping peacefully in their huts before he set them ablaze, burning them alive. Most died, including Sebian’s entire family. He would have, too, had he been there. As he was supposed to.”
Slowly, I dared another few steps and sat beside him. “What do you mean?”
“He was assigned watch for the night. On his way to his post from a nearby tavern, a great owl injured his primal. He shifted, hit his head on a rock, passed out.” He kept palming whatever he held in his hand, letting it grind, making it clank. “By the time he reached the camp, it was all nearly over.
He went into his family’s hut, trying to save them from the flames. It was winter, and the fur in his bracers caught fire. I found him the next day lying in the snow, unconscious, his arm so badly burned, the snow around it had melted away, the wound steaming. They had attacked from the direction of his post.”
A sharp, biting pain nipped along my arm. Nothing but the wind blowing from the open swamp across as an overwhelming surge of sorrow flooded my chest. That night when I’d thanked Sebian for protecting me? Or when I’d told him that I felt safest with him? Each time, he’d stilled.
I pulled my knees against my chest, curling myself up against the threat of winter. “He feels responsible for their deaths.”
“Nearly a hundred souls.” The moon reflected on the surface of the creek and cast a pale blueish hue across his handsome features. “It is a heavy burden to carry. One misstep, one accident. One moment of… weakness, leaving you with nothing but guilt. That, and the lifelong urge to make things right. It is what draws him to you, you know. Saving you. Protecting you.” Malyr turned his head, letting his eyes lock with mine. “What will happen once he realizes that you are not the damsel in distress you make yourself out to be?”
Clearly, he was referring to how I’d tried to get his child into my belly. “Trusting you doesn’t come easily, Malyr.”
“Yes, I took notice,” he said on a sigh and opened his palm, letting what appeared to be pebbles slip into the grass. “Your father used to wear a pendant around his neck. A salt crystal set into aerymel. Is it familiar to you?”
I was about to shake my head when I remembered the pendant from my childhood. “I always took it for a cloudy white gemstone.”
“He still has it?”
“Yes, somewhere,” I said and glanced over at him. “Why? What does it mean to you?”
“Your father took it off my person when he captured me.”
“It was yours?”
“Not truly. It belongs to my anoaley. My mate. Years before Valtaris fell, a messenger reached my parents. Around his neck, he wore the pendant, stained red from his blood. Something or someone must have attacked him or his unkindness on his way to our city,” he said. “It is of the girl destined for the younger prince, he had said, muttering something about keeping it safe, danger, and returning home. Where he came from, nobody knew, as he suffocated on his own blood seconds later. To this day, it is a mystery.”
One that stirred the curiosity in my core. “There’s magic trapped inside?”
“That’s the mystery about it,” he said. “It is entirely empty at its core, with not a single shadow writhing within. Many a fate touched it, hoping for a vision, a flicker of magic. Nothing. It’s just… salt.”
That curiosity morphed into unease, reminding me of how fickle all this was, the union between a Raven and a human. “You want me to find it and return it to you… so you may give it to her one day.”
“I no longer have an interest in reclaiming it,” he said. “I was merely curious.”
Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. “Sebian told me how strong the pull is. Between fated mates.”
“I found it to be more than tolerable, almost forgettable, really.”
“Not on the day you tried to read up on it in the library,” I said, immediately noticing my mistake when Malyr stiffened beside me. “I walked in the moment you flew off, leaving books scattered about. The Endless Ache. Sebian told me what it—”
Malyr sealed his hand over my mouth even before his eyes widened, head snapping toward the rustling in the wetlands across from us. His arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me onto his body as he let himself plop with his back onto the ground.
“Shh…” His hush came with a blanket of shadows that settled over us, drowning out our surroundings. “Not a single sound, little dove.”
Startled by the sudden nearness between us, my heart thudded so hard, there was no doubt that he could feel its vibration in his ribs. I blinked through the pitch-black darkness, trying to get a sense of where his face was. Until my ears pricked at a shrill voice.
“Where is he?” The voice came muffled through the shadows. “He asked you to come here, didn’t he?”
Lorn. It wasn’t so much her voice I recognized, but the bite it carried, the taunting edge that never seemed to smooth away, no matter what she said.
“Why do you keep running to him, hmm? I am your mate!” the man’s shout, Lord Baradur undoubtedly, startled me enough that Malyr pressed his hand harder onto my mouth. “I have seen everything they have done to you in that dungeon. Every beating. Every humiliation. Every. Single.
Rape. And I love you no less for it. I admire your strength! I want you no less for it, Lorn, don’t you understand?”
“No, you don’t understand!” she hissed. “Just because you saw doesn’t mean you understand. But he does. He does, because he knows what it felt like to lie beneath them, completely powerless, while they—”
Hands suddenly pressed down on my ears, muffling the words, distorting them beyond any recognition. Why? What was it Malyr didn’t want me to hear?
The longer I remained deaf, the tighter his shadows wrapped around me. Offshoots tangled around
my ankles, climbed into my hair, wormed themselves beneath my skirts until they slowed. But the more they did, the harder Malyr trembled beneath me. He was struggling to hold them back, wasn’t he?
Slowly, so slowly, he lifted his palms off my ears just as the shadows lifted from around us, seemingly scattering into the night. He stared at me, his eyes crinkled at the corners in nothing short of concern. Did he fear that I heard? Heard what he didn’t want me to know?
“It is cold,” he said after a while. He slipped me off him and rose rather abruptly before he grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. “We should wake Sebian so he can bring you back to your chambers.”
He’d already gotten in three hurried strides before I said, “What of our wedding?”
His feet stalled, but he didn’t turn around, standing there frozen. “What of it?”
I walked up to him. “How do I know that you won’t dissolve the betrothal the moment I free Marla?”
Long moments of silence lingered between us. “Did my oaths sound insincere?”
“No.” Which made them all the more suspicious. And even if he truly meant them, I wasn’t exactly short on other concerns. “But what happens on the day you find your mate? What will you do then?”
“I cannot find what I am not searching. I gave up on my desire to bond because I am not at all the man fate would have wanted me to become… your father made sure of that,” he ground out. “You said you hope that your actions added months to my time in the dungeons, but little dove, I never escaped them. They are with me, inside me, forever a part of me.” Another beat of silence. “I would rather suffer The Endless Ache than watch my mate endlessly suffer me. You, however, will.”
