I sigh a heavy breath. Without turning, I reach up to place the berries on the rafters. “Okay, Owlfred—no biting,” I remind him, my palm still bearing the beak-shaped scab where he fought me for berries upon my return to Stargazer. He didn’t appreciate how long I was gone, apparently.
A low male voice rumbles behind me. “What ifIbite you?”
I whirl around, feeling the blood drain from my face. I’d locked the door behind me downstairs.
Across the tower room, a familiar cloaked figure leans against the windowsill. I stare open-mouthed, my breath unsteady with disbelief.
Riev? He climbed up the side of the clock tower?
Does he remember anything…everything?
Dragging my gaze over him, I don’t dare blink. He’s thinner, with slight purple circles under the hollows of his eyes. His hair is longer. But the silvery gleam in his glare and the scowl attempting to hide the grin breaking through his freshly shaven face are characteristically Riev.
I swallow down the flood of emotions that threatens to choke me. “Ivy said she’d send word if you woke up,” I stammer. “I would’ve come—”
“I couldn’t wait. I needed to see you, Elphie.”
He remembers. How much does he remember?
I want to run to him but force myself to hold back, willing my knees to stop trembling.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to. I killed you.” My bottom lip quivers even as I bite it to keep it still.
He lingers by the window.
“I promised you I wouldn’t die by a Syf hand.” Riev tips his head, cocky as ever. “And you didn’t kill me. You saved me.”
A strangled noise leaves my throat as I take a step forward, unsteady. My legs are about to give out. I’m not sure why I’m shaking, until I realize I’m crying. All the hurt and pain of losing him—all the guilt I held on to for months that his demise was by my hand, my dagger, my fault—comes pouring out uncontrollably down my face.
In three supernaturally fast strides, his arms are around me. He holds me captive in a tight embrace. “I’m still fast and powerful. And…I kept my fangs,” he whispers, hot in my ear. “Thanks to you.” The sharp edge of a tooth drags against my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You’re welcome?” I sob shamelessly.
He kisses the streaming teardrops off my cheeks and chin, grazing his sharp incisors across my neck, nipping slightly. This stops the crying, replaced by a sharp gasp escaping my lips. I press my hips against him, letting him lift me into his arms as I straddle my legs around his waist.
“I need you with me in Artemysia,” he says. “I have to make up for the damage I’ve done and take on my role as a true leader. I’m no longer an assassin. You’ve helped me find my purpose in life, but it’s you who gives it meaning. I never want to be without you. Ever.”
My mouth slams onto his, drawing his lips into mine. Woodsy, warm, wanting.
I’ll never get enough of kissing him. Not when I thought I’d lost him forever.
He sets me back on my feet as I blink up at him.
“What will I do there? I’m not Syf.”
“Ivy isn’t either, but she fits right in. There’s a chance they’re too scared to tell her what to do. I’m a fucking Syf prince, Elphie.” His voice drops. “We know how much you like princes.”
“Don’t—”
He smiles unapologetically, his tongue running along his fangs absently.
“Before I came to find you, I had a meeting with High King Galke and the colonels of Stargazer in my first official role representingArtemysia. It went something like this: ‘Remember me, motherfuckers?’”
I sniffle and stifle a laugh.
He goes on, looking at me in a way that makes me want to sell my very soul, if only to see his gaze linger for a moment longer. “The king and colonels want you and Throg to be the royal liaisons between Stargazer and Artemysia. King Foss has decided to open communications. Isolating themselves only prolonged both kingdoms’ suffering. If he had our help earlier, we might have resolved the rabid Syf issue sooner. He’s considering resuming trade. They need raw metals. I bet he’s excited about all the contracts he gets to write up.” He snickers. “Yours would be a diplomatic role, with a sizable pay raise. You’d make more than a colonel. Hell, Galke would let youbea colonel if you wanted that thrown in.”
He pulls out a crimson cravat from his pants pocket and ties it around the end of my braid.