Page 37 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Melody stirs slightly in his arms but doesn’t wake up. Riven finds it hard not to look at her. He’s never seen a human half-blood before, and he doubts any of them ever have, not even Caryan. But that is not the reason for his staring.

The girl, bound to Caryan’s fate through Kalleandara’s prophecy.

The girl they have been searching for since the day she was born.

The girl he’s been dreaming about for years.

When they finally found her last night and Caryan sent him after her, he had been so sure it was to kill her.

That Caryan ordered him to bring her to him instead…

Riven doesn’t allow himself to ponder the consequences of this. Not now. Not when the others are around, too easily picking up even the smallest shift in him. Their acute sense of hearing and smell are more often a nuisance than useful.

Not to mention Caryan himself. He will feel every emotion in him through the bond that connects them, all the more if he is close.

None of them can shield themselves from Caryan since they accepted thecurse—the bond to Caryan. But if Caryan is distracted enough, he does not pay them too close attention.

So Riven shuts down his instincts for now and retreats to a dark and quiet place within himself. He can think about this later.

He looks back down at the girl in his arms, her weight not more than a tiny bird’s to his fae strength.

So strange to finally hold her. She looks exactly the way she looked in his dreams. When he found her in the woods, he couldn’t resist touching her.

A mistake. Because the effect of that touch shook him. An echo of it still sears the underside of his skin like a burn, as if it has been branded there. Maybe it is the rare kind of light she seems to emanate—a hint of the silvery blood flowing through her veins. The light of the moon and the stars, they whisper.

Melody, half-human, half-moon elf.

When Riven glances up, he finds Caryan looking at her too, his eyes still tinged red from Lyrian’s cowardly blood. It must have tasted rancid, like the rotten bastard’s soul, but Riven hasn’t had the nerve to ask. He hasn’t had the nerve to ask about Caryan’s rush of anger that rippled through the room when he had swallowed the first drop of Lyrian’s blood either.

What did he taste that made their leader release that feral growl?

It’s so rare to see Caryan angry. Rare to see him with any emotions at all. Through their bond to him, they sometimes feelwhat he feels, or at least a fragment of it. But back at Lyrian’s house, Riven felt a bolt of hate jolting through the bond right into him, as hot and searing as lightning. It was painful. Riven knew Kyrith and Ronin felt it too. No one would bring it up though.

Caryan looks away again as they walk on.

All of them are strangely quiet, save for Kyrith, who gave Riven a hard time when he took Melody’s hand for the jump off the cliff and who held her as soon as they hit the water, bracing her fall with his own body to spare her bruises. He’s been carrying her ever since.

What are you now? Her knight in shining armor? Carrying a mortal girl? Since when have we sunk so low?

Riven ignored Kyrith as he does most of the time. It is enough to feel Kyrith’s temper and moods through the bond. To answer them is more than he is willing to do. Kyrith is one of the most feared fae warriors of Palisandre. His power is impressive, and Riven has heard stories about the white-haired warrior and his cadre. Yet he wonders how his former comrades dealt with Kyrith without the constant wish to throw their commander off a cliff. And that was before Caryan brought him back to life on a battlefield and offered him a fresh start.

Kyrith had been an animal before, and it has only gotten worse.

He is a ruthless bastard.

Kyrith passes him now, glowering down at the girl. Riven finds his lip curling in a silent warning.

“You look like you’re going to fuck her as soon as we’re out of sight.”

Riven exposes even more of his fae canines which have now turned into vicious fangs since Caryan offered him the curse. Only the woman in his arms prevents him from trying to rip Kyrith’s throat out straight away.

Kyrith sees his chance and uses it. “Didn’t know you had a soft spot for mortal girls. That’s why you love to wander the human realms so much. A penchant for scum.”

“She is no mortal; she’s half-fae,” Riven replies coolly.

“Makes it all the more fun. They don’t break so easily.”

A growl comes out of Riven’s throat, one that no longer holdsmuch civility. A face he so rarely shows these days, but one that reveals his deadly nature. A face he tries to avoid when looking in the mirror. Tries to forget. A face of black flames, burnt corpses, ashes, and ruins.

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