Page 79 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

I laughed, sliding my hands over his shoulders and leaning back. “You counted?”

He looked at me as if I’d asked him the stupidest question. “I always count when you’re away from me.”

I nipped at his nose and smiled. “Stalker.”

I leaned in and ran my lips along his stubble, able to feel his grin. His arms wrapped tighter around my waist. He was alive and whole. My fear had faded away the second I had entered this blasted realm and found him. I had hunted the caravan, stalking through the trees as they traveled. I had watched them force the prisoners from the wagons, nerves twisting my insides when I hadn’t seen him in the first few. That had died the second I saw him through the brush, every ounce of it disappearing. The guards would meet a gruesome end the second I had him healed, but I was content to know he wasn’t dead.

Memories from the tunnel flashed in my head. Water dripping as the world shook, his blood-covered body held in my arms as life left him. I shook my head, chasing away the images.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, nuzzling his lips beneath my ear, trailing featherlight kisses. His hands roamed a soft path over my lower back to my ass and back again.

I didn’t realize I had been so quiet. I didn’t want him to know how it felt with him gone, how empty I felt, as if a part of me was missing. It was something I had never felt before, not for anyone, not even Gabby. Nor did I want to ruin this moment by telling him about the bloodshed I’d caused, either. So, I did what I normally did. Pulling back, I purposely tightened around him, redirecting and distracting. “That I need to learn to breathe again.”

His smile lit up the darkened forest, and mine soon matched. I picked the tiny leaves from his hair, but there was so much dirt he’d have to wash to get it all out. Maybe I could find us a stream . . . My hand froze, and my smile dropped. I heard them first, quickly followed by the scent. My eyes raked the forest, and I threw myself off Samkiel, my skin prickling. Fur replaced skin, and my paws beat against the forest floor as I chased the onlooker. Teeth met flesh, ripping as I leaped atop him, a blood-curdling scream rending the air.

THIRTY

SAMKIEL

A flash of jet-black fur and Dianna was off me, barreling into the woods. It happened so fast that I was still pulling my clothes into place when I heard the scream. I moved, tearing through the woods.

I skidded to a stop, gaping at the sight of Orym struggling beneath a wolf the color of midnight. Dianna held him easily, her lips pulled back in a menacing snarl.

“Dianna.”

Her head snapped toward me.

Orym held his torn-out throat, coughing. I dropped to my knees, my hands covering his wound, silver light emitting from my palms.

Jaws snapped toward me, her voice as dark as her fur. “Why are you helping him? He smells of Nismera’s legion.”

“He’s an ex-commander, Dianna, non-active and currently bleeding out.”

Orym groaned, his throat vibrating beneath my palms, but the bleeding had stopped pooling, and I could feel the skin knitting back together.

She growled. “Is this what he told you? The smell is too fresh. He’s lying to you.”

My hands lifted, and Orym sat up, scuttling back so fast he hit a fallen log, still holding his throat.

“You can understand it?” Orym asked, his voice broken, his throat raw and healing.

I ignored him, focusing on her. “Do you truly think I am incapable of discerning threats? He smells of them because his sister is still a spy there. She sends messages by ink. That is all.”

The fur standing on her back slowly fell, but a low growl continued to rumble in her throat, her eyes focused on Orym. I realized then that Dianna was hurt and broken, the wounds still raw and wide open. Between the fear of having lost me, the adrenaline, and what had happened to Gabby, she was reluctant to trust anyone near me.

“Dianna. I am safe.”

Her eyes snapped to mine, the crimson glow easing a bit. She took a deep breath, and her posture eased, the low grumble in her throat quieting. Dark mist grew from her fur and swirled around her. She shifted, and I was instantly on my feet, blocking Orym’s view of her naked body.

I tossed a look over my shoulder, glaring at him. “You even try to look, and I’ll rip your throat back open.”

He held up a bloody hand in defense and shook his head.

“Dianna, clothes. Now.” She rolled her eyes but headed back to where we had left her clothes.

“You followed me?” I asked Orym, still blocking his view of where Dianna was dressing behind me.

Orym rubbed his throat. “I woke up, and you were gone. I was afraid the guards had done something in retaliation, and then I heard the grunting . . . I didn’t know. I thought they dragged you off.”

---