Page 66 of Destroyer

Stars wheeled in the night. A cold wind danced in Fen’s hair and cooled Ru’s heated skin.

“What do you want?” Fen asked again, bending down to kiss her neck, his hot mouth seeking, caressing.

She groaned, arching into him, and at last, achingly slowly, he lowered his body against hers.

The sensation was almost unbearable, his hips pressed against Ru’s, the heat between her legs expanding, overcoming. He bit her ear, his hands roving, every inch of her on fire. She rocked her hips against his and he groaned, reaching between them with one hand, a finger catching her undergarment and pulling it aside.

“Isthiswhat you want?” he said, his fingers moving into her, his voice a low growl.

Ru woke with a start.

Birdsong drifted in the open window — morning had broken, the sun just beginning its journey across the sky. She blinked, sat up, and rubbed her eyes. Her blankets were tangled around her body as if she'd been thrashing in her sleep. Arousal still pulsed through her, and she was wet between her legs.

Shocked and embarrassed, despite being alone in the room, Ru slid out of bed in a rush, dressing quickly, eager to cover herself. To think that she had dreamt of Fen like that. Fen in her room, in her bed... The heat in her belly began to fade as she buttoned her dress, the light of day cooling her like a douse of cold water.

This was somehow Archie’s fault.

But she couldn't shake the image of Fen leaning over her, skin against skin, his mouth... his fingers…

“Ruellian Delara,” she said aloud, stern and disapproving. “Pull yourself together.”

The dream had come from his proximity to her the night before, the way he'd comforted her, just after Archie had made such silly claims aboutinfatuation. And it had been so long since she'd bedded anyone, her body and mind were simply reaching for the nearest man, bringing him to her in sleep. That was all.

Ru brushed her hair with agitation, then braided it into a loose plait that hung over one shoulder. There were far more important things to think about, to focus on.

Shoving her feet into the nearest pair of boots and lacing them hastily, Ru stood to regard herself in the mirror. A young woman stared back at her, a new confidence in the depths of her brown eyes. Her color was returning, her skin regaining its usual healthy glow. Her hair shone darkly in the morning sun, and for the first time in a long while, she recognized who she saw there.

Turning on her heel, head high, she left her room and shut the door behind her with a click. Even if her world had turned on its axis, her gravity upended, she knew one thing: She was Ruellian Delara, expert archaeologist, and head researcher in the study of the artifact.

CHAPTER22

An assemblage of carriages and riders arrived from the palace that morning. There was a well-packed wagon filled to the brim with scientific instruments — including an astrolabe, an equinoctial compass sundial, a graphometer, a device with which to create a small atmospheric vacuum, and even some microscopes — all of which were expensive, delicate, and in short supply at the Tower.

In addition to the wagon of devices was a small contingent of King's Guards, a King’s Rider, and three solemn figures in white robes belted with gold. Ru, who had been summoned from her breakfast at the arrival of the small convoy, paused when she caught sight of the Children. Why were they here?

But she was quickly distracted by the King’s Rider, who dismounted at her arrival. “Miss Delara?” the rider said, her voice carrying across the courtyard. “Letter for you.”

Ru skirted around the somewhat large gathering of professors and first-year academics who had been called to assist in carrying the wagon’s contents down to Ru’s laboratory.

When she was close enough to see the rider clearly, Ru was slightly disappointed to see that it wasn’t Rosylla or Sybeth. She took the letter from the rider’s gloved hand, looking for an obvious sender, but the seal belonged to the palace, not an individual.

“Do you know who sent it?” Ru asked.

The rider shook her head.

Curious but distracted, Ru shoved the letter into one of her skirt pockets for later, when she could focus. She had other more pressing things to attend to at the moment.

“Delara, there you are!” said Professor Obralle, emerging suddenly from the small crowd, her hair quivering in the breeze. Today it was shaped like a cumulus cloud, but the pink hue and fluffy texture were such that it almost looked like spun sugar. “Your things have arrived. And look, they’ve sent us a trio of… what were you called, again?” She turned to one of the white-robed figures, all of whom were hovering at the edge of things, looking utterly detached.

“The Children,” Ru answered for them. Unease began to writhe in her stomach. She couldn’t begin to understand why they were here, these pale, white-robed oddities.

“They’re here to keep tabs on the progress of your research,” said Obralle, as if reading Ru’s thoughts. Ru now understood that the professor’s overly cheerful tone was for the benefit of the robed visitors.

“We are simply observers,” said one of them, overhearing. His voice was strangely devoid of emotion, a deadpan drone. “We have no wish to interfere.”

“No, no, of course not,” said Obralle, grinning far too brightly. “I never thought otherwise, dear boy.”

Professor Acorn,his floppy golden hair shining in the sun, approached the trio in white and began welcoming them to the Tower. Seeing that she was free of their attention for the moment, Professor Obralle turned to Ru so that her back was to the three Children, took Ru’s arm and steered her back into the Tower. Her forced smile had evaporated.

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