Page 62 of Wrath of the Dragons
I shake my head, dusting the rolling pin off with my apron and setting it on the counter as Saskia steps toward me. “We’re getting married, and I didn’t even know that about him. It’s something so basic.”
Saskia reads my emotions easily. “Have you talked to him about what you’re feeling? It’s all right to be nervous.”
We start out in life completely defenseless, but time draws its blades against us, and only those who don armor live to fight another battle. “Think about how many people get married and then wake up one day and don’t recognize the person they’ve bound their life to.”
I don’t know why my mind works the way it does, making the words I hear become twisted like prickly brambles in a dark forest. Myemotions battle with logic, but there’s never a winner, rendering my thoughts a wasteland of casualties. I don’t want to second-guess Cayden, but I feel like it’s my last defense against him.
“I’m fine,” I assure her quickly while removing the raspberry tarts from the oven, not wanting to truly dissect my fears. “Maybe I had sex with him on his birthday and unknowingly gave him the best present he ever received.”
“I think you might’ve made his life.” I throw a pinch of flour at her, and it paints her dark cheeks that get rounder as she laughs. “He’s not like everyone else. I told Cayden he should marry you to solidify the alliance before I met you, and he was adamantly against it. He said he would never subject himself to the hell of marriage.” I flinch before I can stop myself. “The man you know is someone nobody has ever met, not even me or Ryder. He broke the Dasterian line not because he wanted the crown, but because he was terrified of losing you. There is darkness in Cayden, and it’s made so many people run from him, but I’ve always thought that was why he was running to you all his life. You’re his light.”
I press my lips together, dragging my pendant along its chain. “You truly mean that?”
“I know it.” She squeezes my wrist before letting go and stealing a tart from where they’re cooling.
“When are yours and Ryder’s?” I ask, not wanting to miss anyone else’s. Finnian’s is the fourteenth of July, and we always do something to celebrate, same with mine.
Saskia’s eyes soften. “I’m the fourth of September and Ryder is the tenth of December. Yours?”
“The fifteenth of January.”
Her smile widens. “I’ll start planning.”
We pass our time in comfortable silence, and I realize how nice it is to be with someone without having to be present the entire time. I lose myself in the recipes—kneading dough, sprinkling powdered sugar, making icing. Not stopping until the counters are covered in various baked goods and heavy footsteps pound down the hall.
“You owe me a debt, angel.” Cayden’s deep voice echoes through the corridor, and my stupid, hopeless heart kicks in my chest at the sound of it.
“You must be thinking of someone else,” I say. “I owe you nothing.”
Cayden steps around the corner, filling the doorway with his large frame clad in his familiar black tunic and loose pants with a sword strapped across his back…but it’s what’s on top of his clothes that makes the tin slip from my fingers and clatter loudly on the counter. “I’ve come to collect.”
He lunges for me, and by reflex, I sprint around the island, but it only seems to encourage him. My tongue feels like dead weight in my mouth while I blink slowly. Not truly absorbing the sight in front of me. I must be dreaming. “Oh, my gods.”
“You don’t remember,” he says the words like he’s accusing me of a crime. “During your first dinner in Vareveth you told me you’d kiss me if I wore the pinkest and frilliest apron.”
Laughter bubbles in my throat, spilling out of me until my stomach hurts. “How the hells do you remember that?”
“I remember everything about you.” He curls his finger toward him. “Pay up, princess.”
I scrunch up my nose, keeping the island between us as I slowly move in time with him, wanting to force him to catch me. “Are you that desperate?”
“Determined.” He lunges around the counter, and I yelp while quickly rounding the corner to keep him across from me. His green eyes scan the full counters piled high with cinnamon rolls, honey buns, bread loaves, and the raspberry tarts. “Are you baking for the entire army?”
“Aestilian,” I correct. “I wanted to make something for the children before the war takes me away.”
He lifts a brow. “I don’t think any of this will make it farther than the front door.”
“Not even for children?”
“I was a child once.”
I throw my apron at his face and book it for the door, pumping my arms as my legs carry me down the hall. My heart thunders in my chest as Cayden’s long strides soon catch up with me and he grabs me around the waist, spinning me in his arms before pressing my back into the wall. His heart beats in time with mine, slamming against his rib cage as he pulls me flush against him.
“Easy, demon,” I whisper, pressing my fingers into his mouth hovering inches from mine. It’s a punishment for myself as well as him, but his determination is addictive.
“You are playing a very dangerous game, angel,” he states in a low tone.
“That is the best kind.” I love having this power over him and adore making him ache for me. He drops his forehead to mine and looks at me with so much yearning that I can feel it like a tether between us. “I think pink is your color.”
