Page 13 of The Princesses of Ruin
My wings snap out behind me. “Ready?”
She bends her knees and wiggles her butt. “More than.”
I snort. “Nothing fancy.”
“All right, Daddy, I heard you.”
Tight warmth spreads through my chest and I move before I can stop myself, capturing her arm. I pull her into me and lean down until we share the same love-laden breath. Her eyes sparkle with delight as she kneads her lower lip with her teeth.
“My life is bound to yours. When you bleed, I bleed.”
The heat in her eyes softens to something amorous, and gentle. Her cool fingers slide up my chest to my cheek and she pushes onto her toes, closing the distance between our lips. The kiss is soft—reverent—lacking the crude playfulness she’s normally full of.
It soothes my fears.
She drops back to her heels, her gaze still soft. “I love you.”
My breath escapes me. I didn’t think it would still feel this way, like she’s fire taking all my air.
“Let’s get this ruffian back to the Nest, Daddy,” she says and tweaks my nose with a grin.
Before I can respond, she takes off at a run with her wings folded in just the way I showed her. I chase her, lumbering awkwardly from the weight of the man under my arm. When she nears the end of the lane, her wings snap open and she leaps. I hold my breath, prepared to toss the man aside to catch her.
With two powerful pumps, she ascends into the pink morning sky. A smile paints my face as relief, and pride, fills my chest.
My queen.
Chapter six
Adrik
Wind whips off the sea in the early morning, throwing back the hood of my cloak and spraying my face with icy water. I grit my teeth against the cold and bear it as I watch the silhouette of sails move through the fog. The salt of the sea wars with the acrid, resinous scent of burnt wood, creating a sour mixture.
Zane stands beside me like a sentry, his magic protruding from his bare back despite the cold. “I assure you that Emillia is a capable captain, as is her crew,” he says, crossing his arms against the wind.
“AndIassureyouthat none of her crew will be able to maintain the temperature of the water perfectly during the two-hour ride to the Nest.”
The mist finally parts and the vessel in question appears, its white and blue sails flapping in the heavy breeze. The most recent shipment of ipsain, an explosive Illyan coral, is on that boat, and transporting it from ship to lab will require constant temperature regulation to keep them alive.
“You can trust my contact. I have the upmost confidence in her,” he says, trying to dissuade me from accompanying the transport.
I turn to him, glancing at the small contingent of Spiders at our backs. “What is the real problem?” I ask in Seterian to spare him the embarrassment of questioning him in front of his soldiers.
His eyebrow ticks as he turns his head to look at me. “This is a waste of your time. I can protect the caravan,” he replies in Fynish, unperturbed.
“Butyoucannot keep the ipsain at temperature.”
His glowing eyes bore into mine and I feel the urge to lower my gaze.
I don’t.
“If they die, my compression and time-delay work on the grenades will be for naught. Then where will we be?”
Zane is quiet for a moment, then sighs as he turns his gaze forward. “Fucked.”
“Indeed.” I smile grimly and watch the approaching vessel.
Long paddles spear from the sides of the ship, turning it toward the charred remnants of the harbor. A single long pier has been repaired by Liliana so we can continue receiving shipments, but the rest is a blackened husk.
