Page 25 of Claws of Death

I don’t know if I let the thought slip through my shield or if I actively throw it at Tori the way I did during sparring, but the male flashes me a glance full of torment and hope, of hesitation and a lifetime of determination that tells me he heard it anyway.

“What the fuck are you waiting for?”I say in my mind, and I could swear the grin is back on his mouth as he crashes it down on Clio’s like a starved male.

Clio’s surprised gasp is smothered by Tori’s snicker as he pulls away then leans in to whisper something into Clio’s ear.

Ayna clears her throat, forgotten by both fairies, making them jump.

“Good, now that we have your attention, shall we continue?” Clio drawls, meeting everyone’s eyes as if we can’t hear her heart race in her chest. “Recienne wants you to visit his court. All of you.”

Ayna

We’re packedand ready by the end of the day, but Clio and Astorian don’t take us to Aceleau until the next morning. Herinor and Silas grab the bundles with the cooking utensils while Pouly and Andraya each pick up a bag of clothes. Clio and Tori take turns site-hopping us out of the cave, leaving Myron and me for last.

In the circle of rocks at the center of the cave, the fire has burned down, the scent of smoke fading as Myron stirs the air with his magic.

“We’ll be fine,” Myron whispers, pressing akiss to my forehead.

My arms latch around his waist on instinct, the rush of his presence so new, yet familiar, and I rest my cheek against his shoulder. “I hate when people say that. It makes me anticipate the worst possible outcome.”

The chuckle rumbling through his chest is halfhearted. “What would be the worst possible outcome?”

Instead of the hundreds of horrifying scenarios involving him captured, tortured, mangled, or dead while I need to live on, I kiss the sliver of skin showing beneath the loosely tied collar of his shirt. The shiver running through his body eases my fear, turning it into something warmer, more docile. With a deep inhale, I allow his scent to fill my heightened senses and focus on the way my shoulder tingles under the feathers of the inked bird.

“We’ll be fine,” he repeats. “As long as we’re together.

I have no objections. All I want is him—day and night, alone for myself. I’m greedy and needy and entirely out of control when it comes to this male, but the look in his eyes when I enter a room and he finds me, the way he seems to light up and gravitate toward me, it’s enough to know he feels the same.

“As long as we’re together,” I echo.

Myron seals what sounded a lot like a promise with a fervent kiss, tongue colliding with mine in a dance I should have gotten used to by now yet can’t seem to ever get enough of. His hands roam my back, wandering up to curl into my hair, almost undoing my braid as he kisses me deeper. Heat pools in my core like it’s been waiting just for a touch of him to be released, and I lower my hands to his waist, readyto slide my fingers over the front of his pants where hard arousal strains against my stomach.

“Save it for later, younglings,” Tori calls from the cave mouth. “The King of Askarea awaits your presence at court.”

Myron groans his frustration while I untangle from him with more reluctance than a mere kiss warrants.

It’s never amerekiss with him. It’s the universe and the stars that populate the night skies. It’s silk and velvet and hot, molten ore. It’s diamond and steel and anything and everything that could destroy me, yet never will, because his strength will only break my enemies.

Ignoring Myron’s growl of warning, Astorian saunters over, holding out both hands in invitation while his handsome face features a bored expression. “Ready?”

Smooth, glimmering rock is the first thing I see as we hit solid ground after being torn through the folds of the world. My stomach churns, and my head spins, making dots of light dance in my vision like little suns. At a sound of nausea escaping my throat, Astorian elegantly drops my hand and steps aside.

Myron is there in an instant, his arm around my waist, even when I seem to be more stable on my feet than him.

“I just need a moment to breathe,” I say to no one in particular.

Then, I don’t have any idea who else is witnessing my moment of weakness. Scents of flowers and foreign spicesmingle with the familiar ones of Myron and Astorian. Footsteps echo in the distance, approaching faster than my ability to stand upright, and just when I think I need to expel my breakfast at Myron’s feet, Clio’s laugh joins Myron’s words of comfort and Astorian’s ones of mocking.

“Guardians, Ayna, one would think you’d have gotten used to all the magic features our lifestyle provides,” she chimes, voice unnaturally loud as it bounces between walls of too-colorful rock. “You look like you need a hug.” Unceremoniously, she pulls me into her arms and squeezes until my breath gets lodged in my throat, and I cough.

“Too much?” She lets go only to pull Myron into her arms next. “You look like you need one just as much.”

Myron’s half-growl, half-hiss of surprise draws a laugh from Astorian, who has sauntered to the tall doorway a few strides ahead from where he watches the Crow King’s struggle not to attack Clio out of instinct.

At least, I’m distracted from my nausea long enough to take in the enormous entrance hall of what has to be the Fairy Palace in Aceleau.

“Welcome to my home.” Releasing Myron, Clio joins Astorian with a few swaggering paces, her long, copper dress flowing around her legs like molten ore. It matches Astorian’s ability to liquefy rock, the image so vivid that, when he slides his hand around her waist, I wonder if he could solidify her into a statue of metal and stone at will. Not that he ever would. Nothing the male has done has ever made me believe he’d harm a shiny hair on her head.

As if reading my thoughts, he tilts his own head, fixing me with his auburn gaze. “Interesting idea, but not practicallypossible.” A smirk graces his features as he turns to Clio and kisses the question of what he’s talking about off her lips.

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