Page 26 of King of Pride and Talons

Breya was comforting a woman and her child, having kicked off her stiletto heels and padded around the harsh ground barefoot, when Thorne and his men shifted back into their human forms. Breya found herself admiring the beauty in the effortless change along with Thorne’s bravery.

His servants rushed to dress them with spare clothes they had gathered. Even through the hazards, Breya couldn’t stop herself from wishing Thorne had remained naked.

"We have to close this area off," she overheard the king say. "It's not safe. Or fill it with dirt. Whatever you do, make it stable. This can’t stay like this.”

Breya excused herself from what had turned into the recovery tent and approached the king, who was surrounded by men who could be his identical twins. One in particular had hair just as long as his, but his was a shiny black.

"Thorne, can I speak with you?"

She thought for a second that he might brush her off, but he didn’t. She was humming from the adrenaline of the earthquake and maybe even a bit turned on by his bravery. The way he just threw himself into that crevasse.

“I have an idea," she said, rubbing her palms together. “Filling in the ground with dirt will take too long. Let me do my work."

Thorne was flummoxed, staring off into the seemingly infinite black.

“What do you mean? I thought you healed humans?"

Instead of arguing with him, Breya asked him to step aside and tell everyone else to do the same.

The blue of his eyes twinkled as he gave the order. His voice was thick and powerful. Breya gave him a pleased nod, then walked past him, settling both feet at the edge of the gaping hole.

Breya breathed in deeply. Her bare toes sunk into the cold clay of the surface. She summoned all of her vitality to begin knitting the dangerous opening together. It grumbled under her feet as if fatigued, and then slowly, the breach closed. It rumbled, not nearly as blaring as the initial quake, and finally ceased as Breya's abilities stitched the earth back to a singular stretch of land.

Another uncanny silence took over the atmosphere. Some people clapped, and some people cheered. Others remained mute and disapproving.

Breya’s hands dropped to her side. She started to feel dizzy, her appendages as heavy as iron pipes. The edges of her fingertips burned like she had put out a candle with every digit. But she was used to that feeling.

She smiled to herself, full of pride, then nearly stumbled to the ground.

Thankfully, Thorne was there to catch her.

“My God, Breya. I didn't know you could do that."

The witch was loopy, the stars overhead starting to dim. Her thoughts were muddled, but one kept breaking through. She spoke, unable to shroud her smile.

"Did I do well? Do they all think I'd make a good queen now?"

The king smiled down at her, but it was somber. She knew the answer without needing to hear his reply.

“Let's get you to bed, Breya. I think all of that magic drained you. Come on. I will take you."

She wanted to tell his people that she was just as capable of healing the earth as she was at healing their bones. But nothing, not even a witch of her caliber, could heal a haunted and begrudging heart.

"You're right. I need to rest."

Thorne scooped her into his arms like she was a calf. She felt good in his arms as she laid her head against his chest, letting her eyes flutter closed, lulled by his strength and his doting touch.

She was taken from the cold stares back into the fever of her growing affection for the King of the Savanna. She decided in her dazed state that whatever happened that night was kismet.

FOURTEEN

BREYA

Thorne carried her to his room, his chest strong and solid against Breya’s tired body. When they got there, he gently laid her on the bed. He brushed loose strands of hair from her face. His strong hands were gentle as he caressed down the line of her jaw.

She could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to maintain control. She reached her hand out, winding it in his shirt to pull him to her. His body hovered over hers, rippling with a vibrato of rumbling need.

Breya brought his face closer, eyes searching him as she parted her lips, letting out a needy breath. She wanted him, and it didn’t matter the magic had drained her. His proximity to her filled Breya with a renewed sense of energy and need that surpassed her tiredness.

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