Page 108 of Merciless Is My Crown

He tossed his cloak into the corner, never taking his eyes off me as he stalked closer with those smooth, prowling steps. “You promised to not leave me behind. You fucking promised.” His teeth gleamed like knives and a shiver went through me.

“Tonight didn’t require your skills. But there will be other nights when you’ll be the one at risk. You’ll be the one I worry over. And someone else will be left behind to brood.” Tavion kept coming, and I retreated until my back collided with the wall behind me.

His fists punched the wall on both sides of my head, caging me in, every breath labored, jaw clenched tight. His eyes were so close I saw myself reflected in them like mirrors, the pine-kissed heat from his body coiling around me.

“You are mine, Tavion. My love. My responsibility.” I smoothed my hands up his chest, his neck, until I cupped his face. “My husband. And I will never risk you, not unless I have no other choice. You want to be pissy at me for being left behind, then be pissy. Let me know when you’re over your temper and we can have a civil conver?—”

His kiss wasn’t the searing storm I was used to, not meant to wipe away my anger or give into his own.

Tavion pressed his lips to one corner of my mouth then the other. A soft, gentle caress, as slow as it was revealing, full of all the things Tavion could not yet say but that I’d seen in his eyes, heard in his voice these past weeks.

His mouth moved against mine, his tongue exploring, caressing, tracing, as if reminding himself of my taste and feel, that he was mine and I was his. And maybe we both needed that reminder as I wound my fingers into his silky hair and yanked him closer.

His deep, thorough kiss was the storm that washed away the sight of Zor lying in that bed and my fears that what lay ahead was too much for us to survive.

Everything faded away. Everything except for his hard body moving against mine, his mouth gentle yet relentless, giving and taking, his skin burnished velvet beneath my hands.

When we broke apart I was dazed, lost in his scent and the feel of him. Drowning in those green eyes, greener than the water that came off the mountains, greener than the first leaves of spring.

“I will love you forever, Anaria.” His eyes searched mine, and as if he’d found the answer to his question, he nodded. “You saved me, not only from this world”—Tavion pressed my hand over his racing heart—“but you healed my heart. Made me whole again.”

“Tavion, I—” His finger pressed to my lips, stopping the rest.

“I would crawl through fire for you just to worship at your feet. You own my every breath; every part of me belongs to you. If you willed it, I would rip out my beating heart and offer it up to you as a sacrifice, and know this…” His eyes burned. “Even that would not make me worthy of you.”

His smile turned crooked. “But next time, I’m going with you.”

43

TRISTAN

“There’s no door.”

We’d been over this mausoleum three times, and there was no way inside except for windows twenty feet up that were too small for any of us to wiggle through in our current Fae forms.

“No wards either, which is good news.” Torin stepped forward and tested the smooth rock wall again, blowing on her frozen fingers when she stepped back. “Not a drop of magic protects this place,” she muttered, clearly puzzled.

“This is further north than any Fae or shifter would ever venture,” Zephryn pointed out. “Perhaps the distance from the settled realms is protection enough.”

The seer seemed unconvinced as she studied the stone then stared at those narrow slitted windows. Torin and Simon shared a look before he groaned and began stripping, golden skin turning to gooseflesh.

“And that’s going to help us how?” I asked quietly. “This place is fucking huge. We have less than an hour.”

“Simon knows what the pendant looks like,” Torin said with equal quiet. “He’s seen it a thousand times around her neck. Simon will not fail.”

We all watched the owl float up to that high ledge and peck at the window hard enough for the glass to shatter. One hop and he was gone.

“So what, we wait?”

“Now we wait,” Zephryn muttered, looking around for somewhere comfortable to sit. He headed for a black rock jutting up from the snow-covered ground. “This is about the furthest north you can go in the world,” the dragon said conversationally. “I flew over once, but…” He stomped his boots, sending snow flying. “It’s different when you have your feet on the ground.”

I gazed out over the ocean. We were close enough to endure the gale coming off the cliffs, the expanse of water stretching out to the sky, and the crashing waves below, the dull roar echoing off the side of Ashbane like a siren’s song. Some long-forgotten part of me remembered this smell.

Brine and fish and wildness.

Once, when I’d been very young, I’d been to the ocean. I didn’t remember which one, but the air had smelled like this. Though warmer, perhaps, less…wild than this sea.

Wyverns had a keen sense of smell, but we also had something even better.

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