Page 140 of Burning Crowns

When Wren saw it was a Gevran nighthawk, she rushed to the window, nearly knocking the poor bird from the sill. She hastily untied the letter from its foot, her heart hitching as she read the familiar scrawl.

Wren,

Open the gates.

Yours,

Tor

Wren cast the letter aside and raced across the room, forgetting all about her shoes. She hurtled down the tower, taking the steps two at a time and almost crashing into the guards stationed at the bottom.

‘Sorry!’ she shouted over her shoulder as she continued down the hallway, moving so fast she skidded on the stone. When she reached the bottom floor, she nearly barrelled straight into Rose, who was returning from a midnight visit to the kitchens with a pocket stuffed full of what appeared to be chocolate biscuits.

She startled at Wren. ‘What on earth has got into you?’ She frowned, then. ‘You’d better not be running away to Gevra again.’

‘Never!’ said Wren, hurrying past her sister. ‘This time Gevra has come to me!’

Rose laughed as she watched her go. ‘Well, it’s about time!’

Wren summoned a burst of tempest magic, flinging the palace doors open as she ran. The guards stuck their heads out in alarm but Wren paid them no mind. She thundered into the courtyard, making a beeline for the golden gates.

When she saw Tor standing on the other side, her heart flipped. He was no longer wearing his pristine Gevran uniform, but a simple white shirt, black trousers and leather boots. Moonlight danced along the copper strands of his hair and lit up his eyes as he kept one hand on the trusty hilt of his sword – still battle-ready, even now – and the other curled around the railings as though he wanted to rip the gates from the ground to get to her.

‘Open the gates!’ Wren yelled to her guards. ‘Hurry!’

The gates swung open but before Wren could reach Tor, Elske bounded into the courtyard and pounced on Wren.

Wren laughed as she fell, blinking up at those beautiful blue eyes. ‘Well, hello to you, too, sweetling.’

Elske licked her face in greeting. Then at a word from Tor, the wolf leaped off Wren and ambled into the palace, as if the entire place belonged to her.

Tor offered his hand to Wren. ‘Sorry I’m late.’

She grinned as she took it. ‘You’re right on time.’

He looked her up and down, his breath catching. ‘You look …’

‘Gevran?’ said Wren, tracing a swirl of silver thread on her bodice.

‘Beautiful.’ He frowned at her feet. ‘And barefoot. Why are you barefoot?’

‘Because I simply couldn’t spend another moment without you.’

His face softened. ‘I know the feeling.’

‘You’re not in your uniform, Captain Iversen,’ said Wren.

‘No. Not any more.’

Wren swallowed, overcome by a sudden rush of desire. If the courtyard hadn’t been full of guards, she would have ripped his shirt off right there and then. ‘You’ve travelled such a long way,’ she said, coyly. ‘You must be tired.’

He raised his brows. ‘Now that you mention it, I am exhausted.’

She led him into the palace, both of them exchanging giddy glances and bursting into breathless laughter.

They bumped into Rose in the hallway. ‘A clandestine midnight meeting,’ she said, by way of greeting. ‘How romantic.’ She took a bite of a biscuit, before feeding the other half to Elske, who was already sitting at her feet. Her lips curled. ‘You are most welcome back to Anadawn, Captain Iversen.’

‘It’s just Tor now,’ he said, dipping his chin in thanks.

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