Page 155 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

She knew the meandering crowds could see but didn’t care. Alora leaned into his arm—so familiar and right. Leaned into the brush of his thumb on the back of her hand. And every solitary part of her narrowed on his feathered touch there. Of the mighty and infinite dark power that smelled of leather and metal and every perfect corner of darkness rippling around them.

“I have needed to do this all day.” And by the stars, she heard desperation in his voice, almost cracking her in two.

That aching, tight breath hitched. “Do what?” But she already knew?—

“Touch you.”

—because she needed to feel him too. All day. After clinging to the warmth of another male… There wasnothinglike Garrik’s touch. Where his was safety and winter and the night sky and … andeverything, all else felt small, empty.

Go to Ezander.Pain—so much pain rested in the words as he carefully backed away.

Alora blinked, not quite believing she heard him correctly. She didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be with anyone else. To go anywhere with anyone else. To feel or laugh with anyone else. To?—

As if her thoughts were his own, Garrik caressed the panicking borders of her mind that seemed incapable of breathing if he stepped away another inch. Right down that silver tether she held open for him. And she felt him—sawhim there. That strained smile screamed his discomfort as a phantom touch like icy lips pressed into her hair.

Her mind leaned into it. She imagined running her hands through his hair, and he contently sighed at her thoughts, too.

But then Erissa was there. Right beside him … like she owned the very breath he breathed.

Alora vowed to kill her if she touched Garrik again. If she recoiled in repulsion at his cold,perfecthands. Not even disgusted by the possessive violence climbing from her soul.

That silent threat must’ve been so evident because Garrik’s eyes brightened before he gestured for the princess to walk forward, leading him up the street before the choking warmth of another male stepped beside her.

Alora stoodin the comfort of her night robe from her balcony that evening. Breathing in the pleasant chill of mountain air as the moon dipped behind blackstone peaks. Every muscle in her body screamed from the endless tour of the High City and from the dancing after. Where Ezander had twirled her and that awful golden dress that reminded her of blistering sunshine around the ballroom floor.

The entire time she had been with Ezander … only one thing echoed in her thoughts.

Garrik.

She looked up.

He sat on the balustrade of his balcony. One knee bent near his chest with his forearm draped over it, while the other leg dangled over the edge. Pearlescent movement drew her eyeto his hand. Garrik mindlessly twisted the rubbery stem of a pearlsea between his fingers.

It wasn’t peace clouding his eyes. They looked distant. Lost in another realm. Another time.

You okay?

Silver flickered to her, then back to where he was staring.He didn’t so much as flinch.You have returned.

Needle-like pricks of warning stabbed her veins. Alora frowned, pressed her palms against the marble, and leaned forward, trying to survey more of his face shadowed by the mountain.That’s not an answer.

Still, he barely moved. Barely breathed.No. It is not.

This wasn’t right. Something was wrong.

She was tempted to climb the blackstone, but the look in his eyes … There was no mistaking he knew the reckless foolish thing she would do for him. It stopped her from taking that dangerous climb. Instead, she asked,What’s wrong?

Silence.

Cold. Terrible. Heartbreaking silence.

Closing her eyes, she pictured that wall of shadows in his mind. Silently asking, like a gentle hand against a lover’s cheek, to enter. But the shadows didn’t part. They only whorled darker. Thicker.

If he was being tormented by living nightmares from being touched all day …

Damn the danger.She’d hold out a hand, just as he had at those stairs today. He wouldn’t do this alone anymore. She wouldn’t let him.

Alora toed off her night slippers, determined to climb, and began to weave between the chairs and lounges. Around the absurd amount of pillows and every useless plant and potted tree when Smokeshadows unfurled from his back, creating those incredible wings of night.

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