Rise of the Seven (The Frey Saga, #3)(35)

Grey tilted his head. “You did leave traps for him, Ruby.”

She let out a disgusted sound. “Not for him.” Her hands came up to her hips. “Besides, he should have known I would have set them.”

Grey shrugged. “Well, he found them regardless.”

The corner of her mouth raised in a snarl and I was suddenly laughing. Grey turned to stare at me and I shook my head. “I think I need some sleep.”

I excused myself and walked the corridor at an easy pace while I considered the coming event. We had given council time to regroup, it would be a fair fight. I had confidence in my guard, but I couldn’t bear the idea of losing any of them. I could leave, spend my years running with the wolves... but no, I couldn’t even finish that thought. I wouldn’t leave. Not my guard, and not the north. Grey was right, they needed this as much as I. I would never really rest until I’d quenched the flames of my nightmares.

I hadn’t been back to my perch since the fey had nearly knocked me from the roof, so I found myself standing in the throne room, staring across the empty space. It had been an ugly childhood, Chevelle the only bright spot. Asher had done all that he could to take that from me, to force me into something I’d never wanted, to secure my place as his second. And here I stood, alone on the throne and separated from Chevelle. Even in death, he’d succeeded.

I took a deep breath as I sat, fingers curling into the ornate carvings on the arms of the chair. My eyes fell closed and I found my hawk to take flight, gliding over the mountain one last time before morning. Darkness had begun to fall and torches lit the grounds like fireflies in a southern meadow. Nightfall brought the revelers out in the towns and rogue camps, but here the sentries were still on duty.

The circles became smaller as I scanned the castle then finally dropped through a window and down the east wing. I opened my eyes as we came to the corridor outside the throne room and watched the hawk fly in under its own authority to land on the stand beside me.

I smiled at the sizeable bird and it cocked its head with a quick twist.

“Someday, I will name you,” I said, gently stroking the feathers along the back of its neck. It shuffled closer, talons claiming the soft wood of the perch. We sat so for a long while, time uncounted as we relaxed together, I as unthinking as the bird.

Finally, it stretched its wings and then brought them back together, shaking a bit as it settled into a solid form, neck disappearing into the mass of feathers, eyes winking shut. “I agree,” I murmured, knowing I needed sleep even though the time here had been more restful than any night of the past weeks. I stepped down from the chair, aware once again that it was a throne, and headed to my room.

I walked in the door, tossed my scabbard and sword on a side table, and kicked off my boots. When I rose back to standing, I found Chevelle across from me against the far wall. For a fraction of a second, my heart quit. When it started back up again, I knew I was flushed.

Embarrassment at being caught off guard and frightened made me irritated. “What are you doing?”

His face didn’t change, though I knew what he was thinking. Not a day ago, I’d been confronted with a fey idol here. “I will be placing protections on the room.”

The anger was genuine now. “What?”

Chevelle remained as he was, but I could see now his posture was set for a fight, he’d known what my reaction would be. “It is the only way–”

My glare cut him off. He waited.

“You will not cast on or near me.”

“I will protect your room,” he answered levelly.

“Then put a guard outside.”

He watched me work that one out.

“I won’t risk it,” I said.

He stepped forward. “Neither will I.”

My mouth went dry.

Chevelle moved again. “A guard outside does no good. He’s proven that.”

“No spells,” I repeated.

“You’ll not sleep unprotected,” he answered, no intention of giving up the idea.

“Then I’ll not sleep alone,” I shot back.

I had answered without thinking, but once the words were out, they hung between us, taking on a new meaning. And the longer it hovered there, the stronger it became. He stared at me, gaze unflinching, as I stood motionless, afraid to even breathe.

I knew we shouldn’t. There was good reason not to. I was sure of it, even if I’d forgotten exactly what that reason was. A flash of memory, the taste of him, his bare skin beneath my hands, the unbearable feeling of being so near him and still wanting him closer. I forced myself to stop but the hunger in his eyes intensified, as if he knew what I was thinking. He was beginning to look as if he might lose control. I swallowed hard, trying to find a way out, certain I needed to.

It wasn’t clear to me, what caused him to break, but he was suddenly moving, and the room seemed to shudder with magic. Power slammed into me the instant before he reached me and I almost managed a word. But when he finally touched me, when his hands came around me, his lips crushed mine, even the notion of speaking was gone.





Chapter Eighteen


First Light





Hours later, I couldn’t say I regretted it. My head lay on his chest as his hand slid slowly up the skin of my arm and across my shoulder. He gently drew my hair away to bare my neck, and then his fingers retraced the line.