Page 102 of House of Ashes

“Anything I can help you with?” he asked, a purr in his voice. He reached out and tucked a lock of still-damp hair behind my ear, fingers lingering at my cheek.

What in Naimah’s name was happening? What…what was he doing?

The soft sound of a draconic chuckle from the shadows made me scowl.

“Maristela has extended us an invitation to Kirion Eyrie,” I said stiffly, shoving the letter into Rhylan’s hand. “Gaelin and Elinor are ready to help force this alliance.”

“Hmm.” He unfolded the letter, scanned it, and pulled me into his room. “Well, let’s go see old friends.”

Oh, gods. I couldn’t be in here. Not while I was torn, while Erebos was stalking me, his words lingering in my mind—that Rhylan had proven himself, when I knew perfectly well that he had, and I was…so afraid to acknowledge it.

“You should put some clothes on,” I snapped, not wanting to see the thick muscles of his shoulders, or acknowledge the line of his back, which caught the light and begged for a tongue to stroke down his golden skin…and the bed was right there.

“Why?” Rhylan gave me a sidelong look under his lashes, unable to hold back a smile. “Have you ever noticed that tone you get when you see something you want, and you just can’t bring yourself to reach out and take it?”

“Shouldn’t you be less concerned with my tone, and more concerned with the fact that Yura is already attacking your territory?” I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. “We need this alliance if we’re going to prevent another attack.”

“Yes, that tone. That’s precisely it.”

I growled. “Focus on the things that matter, Rhylan.”

He strode to his closet, throwing clothes onto the bed, but somehow none of them were making their way onto his body. “Well, you see, Sera, I am focusing. I can’t do anything more for Coldburn, but I can make sure that wherever she strikes, I will strike back at her ten times as hard. And as for things that matter…you can see that I am packing my clothes for a stay in Kirion, where we will do everything in our power to bring Chantrelle into our Court, and you are…standing there and watching me.”

Rhylan flashed a smile over his shoulder. He threw a pair of boots next to the bed, the muscles of his arms flexing, and gave me a very good look at the tongue-worthy expanse of his chest again. “But you would’ve known all that with the mind-speech, of course.”

I could’ve happily struck him down with lightning at that moment. What did he mean, rubbing the lack of a mate bond in my face? He knew it would never work.

“I’m just making sure you’re getting ready. We’re expected to be there by tonight.” Gods, I sounded as dour and stiff as my old training instructor. “I’m glad to see you’ve started.”

I spun on my heel and escaped his room, silently seething.

He was trying to seduce me. As though that would work. If he wanted to fuck someone so badly, he could go find some Bloodless woman for his amusement…but as soon as that thought crossed my mind, jealousy exploded inside me, a sickening jolt of rage that made my fingers curl into talons.

I managed to not slam my door shut like a tantruming child, but once in the safe confines of my bedroom, I leaned against it, tilting my head back and closing my eyes.

When had things changed so drastically? That he would bring up the mind-speech, as though he’d actually consider a mate bond with…with someone like me.

Someone unworthy of it.

Someone he could walk away from in the end, in his own words.

But if that were true…then why did I feel like I was fighting a losing battle?

The eyrie of the Shadowed Stars loomed over the northern Krysiens. It was built into a plateau of solid stone, ten thousand steps carved from top to bottom, without a dragon door or terrace.

Instead, at the very top of the eyrie, an enormous arch had been cut into the stone, forming a smooth bubble of an alcove large enough to accommodate several dragons at once.

I sat astride Rhylan, uncomfortable and nervous, not wearing my usual soft leathers but one of the riding dresses Jenra had made for me. The black silk split at the hips, allowing me a full range of motion in the form-fitting leather pants beneath, and I’d needed to keep an ermine-trimmed cloak fastened around me for the flight through the icy mountains.

Kirana had come out of her misery long enough to advise me that showing up in leathers, no matter how pristine or adorned, would insult Chantrelle. She was the sort of draga who expected guests to arrive with all the pomp and glory of their Houses.

And I cursed her for it. The far north was no place for a dress.

But Rhylan swooped towards the eyrie’s cavernous opening, bringing us into a wall of warmth. Even with gloves my fingers were frozen numb, and as I reached down to tug at the safety straps, I fumbled them.

“Fuck,” I whispered, swallowing panic. Several figures awaited us near the eyrie’s interior doors, well out of the way of the icy wind. Rhylan settled on the stone floor, and I caught a glimpse of Maristela’s honey-gold hair as I tried to unhook them yet again.

I ripped off my gloved and jammed one numb pinky finger in the strap, just managing to unhook it, my fingers red and aching with cold as I stuffed it into the concealed slit in the saddle. Then the other, hoping my cloak hid the movement of my hands…

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