Page 165 of Artemysia
Throg speaks up, his hands gliding up Ivy’s thighs. “Syf age the same as humans, right?”
“Same lifespan as us, Eira said. She also told me that humans made up all sorts of lies about Syf. Like how they live forever, steal sugar and dreams, and can’t touch coins or garlic. Not true.”
Ivy curves over Throg and kisses him. His hands are already massaging her breasts. I turn away, but not before she adds, “But I think King Foss’ hair turns white because he’s anxious about the Rok gryphons threatening at the borders of the mainland.”
Rok gryphons. I’ve been studying Syf history, but still have a lot to learn about the world.
“You look nervous, Fancy Bird.” Ivy narrows her eyes at me. “Do you need me to fight you?”
She launches off Throg’s chest and sprints toward me, a wild look flashing in her eyes.
I shift a foot back to brace myself.
In her last few steps, she hurtles through the air, kicking her legs as if leaping over a stream. She seizes me in a suffocating embrace, her cheek pressed into my collarbone.
“Thanks, Ivy.”
When she finally releases me, I grab the reins of Throg’s elk and glance up toward the gateway, just in time to see a dark-haired, gray-eyed figure ride out from between the split tree branches.
He wears a stunning silver crown studded with diamonds and opals, his black cloak collar turned up around his neck. His boots are polished to perfection, as always. He feigns a somber expression, his jaw tensing as if he will utter a command at me, but promptly breaks into a familiar look of joy. He no longer forces down his deepest emotions around me.
I grant him the same privilege.
He’s grinning like an idiot. No wait, that’s me.
“Prince Riev Aeros Wolfgang,” I say to him, knowing the effect his title and full name has on him in our bed at the Artemysian palace, when our limbs tangle around each other for hours at a time. It onlytakes those four words uttered softly from my lips, and he ravishes me like the predator he is, unhinged, wild and raw whenever I come for a visit.
And now, I’m here to stay.
I add a deep curtsy for good measure, bowing my head—but peer up at him with one eye to watch his reaction.
A grin tugs at one corner of his mouth. Behind him, his half-grown wings twitch.
His regal bearing indicates he’s already used to his role as a ruler.
The new power he holds over his own life suits him. He straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest, posing for me as I pretend to roll my eyes. Gone is the shame over who he is, who he might become. Gone are those who seek to control him. He controls himself, and his future.
I bite my lip to stop the overeager grin and the almost-squeal I’m fighting back—because that’s not me at all.
“Still haven’t taken to horses yet?” I ask instead, stroking the long neck fur of his loyal copper elk.
“They’re too slow. Can’t jump as high.”
“Tell her your weakness, Prince,” Ivy chimes in from Throg’s arms, directing him toward us as he carries her bridal style, her hands locked around his neck.
“Delphine is my only weakness.”
“No, why you can’t ride horses…”
“They smell funny.”
“Nice try. His eyes swell up, red as a monkey’s ass!” She convulses into laughter, almost toppling out of Throg’s grasp. “He can’t stop sneezing when he’s on one.”
“I’m allergic,” Riev says gruffly.
My face scrunches. “To horses?”
“My elk stamps and paws if I dare ride a horse in her sight. I’m not going to deliberately distress her—”
