Page 63 of Claws of Death

From the settee in the corner of the common room, Silas shrugged at me and Herinor echoed the sentiment with a grim set of his features—basically his usual expression, but it seemed extra-dark that day.

Myron wasn’t there, and I didn’t ask where he’d gone.

She hasn’t failed to pick me up for training at the exact same time every day since. A part of me is grateful for the push, for making me forget the wound on my shoulder that has gone numb even when it hasn’t made any progress at healing, and for the time spent in company where no one asks how I’m doing, how the bond is progressing. If I canfeelhim again or if things are still … awkward. That’s the question I fear most. Especially from the males. It draws my eyes to their muscles, to their broad shoulders, their handsome features, makes me wonder what it would feel like to have their hands on me?—

“Askarea to Ayna!” Clio shouts, sending a ball of snow right at my face that rushes down my throat so fast I nearly choke on it. “Stop fucking around and defend yourself.”

“I’m notfucking around.” Even though I wish I were. Gods… the guard Recienne insists on sending after me wherever I go is extra handsome today. Whether the Fairy King doesn’t trust me or is simply concerned about what I’ll do in my condition, I haven’t bothered to find out.

“Perhaps the snow isn’t enough to cool you down.” Clio’s part-amusement, part-annoyance should hurt. Instead, all it does is make me wish I’d never been born.

“I didn’t do anything to him.” With a blast of my Crow magic, I send Clio’s ice storm hurtling across the arena, right into the stone wall closest to the palace.

The guard shifts at his post but doesn’t glance my way, eyes on the grounds outside the arena and following his assignment.

“Who are we talking about?” Clio reels in the ice, her power leaving a trail of frost where it touches. “Myron or Garrison?” Her gaze follows mine, landing on the male’s shoulders.

“Certainly not Garrison,” I huff. “I didn’t do anything to Myron either.”

For a heartbeat, Clio eyes me like she’s about to burst out with laughter. Then she seems to remember this is serious, and I’m not choosing to be attracted to anything on two legs that features a dick. “Perhapsthat’s the problem.”

“What do you mean?” I rally more of my power, readying to strike before she calls me out for not having practiced.

“Perhaps youshouldbe doingsomethingto him.”

“Like what?”

Clio rolls her eyes, sending a snowball flying. I bat it away with a flick of my fingers. Crow magic seems to channel easier when I’m uncomfortable, humiliated, and generally awkward, but hey, I’ll take whatever works. When Erina brings his armies to the border, I’ll thank Clio for every annoying question and every moment of discomfort she’s caused during these training lessons.

“Like throw him on his back and ride him like a stallion.”

I choke on my breath. For the blink of an eye, I can see it: Myron’s powerful body sprawled across the night-blue silk covering the bed meant for both of us, his muscles taut with coiled-up pleasure as I move on top of him. Heat shoots up my legs, straight to my core, but when I try to think of his face, of the black half-moons of his lashes when he closes his eyes, the deep moan parting his lips… My chest locks up, and the wound on my shoulder comes to life, cutting off any romantic thought I could have been capable of.

Perhaps I should be grateful I’m still feelingsomething—even when it’s pain.

“You don’t justthrowa Crow male on his back. They’re too strong.” Kaira chimes in from the side.

I didn’t notice her joining us, but now that she’s here, my head automatically turns to scan the arena for Herinor.

“You’ve tried?” Clio teases, and Kaira—Guardians help her—blushes.

“In training?” Why she phrases it like a question, only the deities of the realms know.

Clio finally does explode with laughter, but she doesn’t comment.

“Myron is with Herinor and Royad, by the way.”

Of course, my sister would think I’m searching for Myron, not the hulk of a Crow who follows her around like a puppy.

Instead of reacting, I send another strike of silver power at Clio, savoring the release of pressure that has been building in my chest as it flows from my palms. She blocks it with her blade this time, dispersing my power like little stars that rain down along her shield.

“You don’t care what he’s doing?”Kaira prompts in my mind, the only one who has such deep insight into my mind when I occasionally forget my shield. “Hasn’t it been long enough? Silas said the un-mating phase should pass quicker for you, based on how long you refused to communicate with anyone. Ten days. He said, for him, it was tenyears.”She chuckles as if Silas lusting after every skirt in the realm was something funny. “It should pass fast.”

The next blow I land on Clio’s shield tears a crack into it. The female staggers back with surprise.

“Well done, Ayna. You’re learning more control by the day.”

It’s more like I’mlosingmore control by the day with every male taunting me with his mere presence. Every male but Myron. He’s mymate,yet I can’t fathom touching him. I can’t even think of his lips on mine…

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