Page 58 of Shadow Kissed

“Okay then, let’s do this!” I say firmly, smiling at him. If I have to sit and practice crocheting for hours on end, I’ll do it if it means my freedom.

Arkynn suggests we need to be getting back and Corlan and Izan shake our hands and once again thank me for supporting the cause. As we walk back to the entrance of the tunnel, I’m hopeful for the first time that I might not have to wed a scath.

I pause in my steps and curse when I realise I forgot to ask him about my brothers. Arkynn stops beside me. “What is it?”

I clench my fists. “The twins. I forgot to ask him about my brothers. They’ll need to be taken to safety before the reaping ceremony. I can’t have anything happen to them because of my betrayal.”

Arkynn grabs my shoulders with his hands and looks me square in the face. “Don’t panic. I’ll speak to them. Honestly, Reya. They’ll agree to anything you ask of them. You are their golden ticket to getting to the prince and ending his existence.”

I flinch at his words. “Wait, they want to kill him?”

Arkynn gives me a double take. “What did you expect?”

When I shrug my shoulders, he shakes his head at me, sighing. “Of course he has to die. By removing their heir to the throne, we send a message to their king and queen that we won’t be ignored.”

I frown deeply as we climb down into the tunnel. “I get it. It just hadn’t occurred to me we’d be taking lives.”

Arkynn jumps off the last rung beside me. “There’s only one way to freedom, Reya, and that’s through war. It’s just the wayit is. Lives will be lost. There is no flowery way that we rid ourselves of them.”

I know he’s right in what he is saying, but I think I’ve had my head buried in the sand about that part. He escorts me back to the wall of the mansion and gives me a leg over the large stone boundary wall, before he heads back to his barracks.

I make it back up to my room with no one seeing me. I remove the bundle of clothes from inside my bed that I had shaped into a human form to make it look like I was in my bed, asleep. I quickly climb into bed and screw my eyes closed. Raegal will likely be here any moment.

A short time later, I sense his presence. The room turns darker when he shadow weaves himself here. I try to regulate my breathing, so it appears as if I’m in a deep sleep.

“I know you’re awake, Terror,” he says, breaking the deafening silence.

I open one eye to find him standing over the bed, frowning at me. He’s in his signature dark navy leather tunic and trousers and those sturdy boots. The stubble along his jawline intensifies his usual menacing and deadly demeanour.

“Come. I’ll shadow weave us to my room. I need to rejuvenate and to do that, I need my onyx bed.”

For a second, I don’t answer and just stare at him. “What if I don’t want to sleep in your bed again?” I’m being defiant to get a rise out of him. I know it, but I can’t help myself. I thrive on his reactions.

He shrugs, his eyes narrowing. “Well, then I’ll just pick you up out of your bed, throw you over my shoulder, and make you come.”

I glare back at him. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His eyes sparkle with challenge. “We both know I would. Now, can you just quit arguing with me? I’m weary and I need my sleep tonight.”

I want to argue further, but I know he will do as he promises. He looks tired. “Fine!” I hiss, angrily throwing back the cover and climbing out of my bed. “Whatever you wish, Lord Commander,” I say, offering him a sneer as I salute him.

He smirks in response as he reaches out and pulls me flush against him, stealing my breath and surrounding me with his woodsy cologne. “I like it when you do as you’re told.” I don’t offer him a response, simply huffing and staring over his shoulder at nothing, which just has him chuckling against my ear. “Hold tight, Terror.”

We shadow weave into his room, and he releases me and strides over to a chest of drawers and rummages inside them. Glancing over his shoulder, he gestures at the large black king size bed. “Get settled.”

His wolf, Nyx, wakes upon our arrival. He lifts his nose in the air and sniffs my way and, deciding I’m no threat, closes his eyes again.

As I approach his bed, I take a moment to study his room. It’s dark and masculine with its imposing bed in the centre. There are no family pictures which I find strange. Portraits of my brothers and parents clutter my bedside table. One thing I notice, though, is a little black onyx carving of a horse sitting on the table beside his bed. Intrigued, instead of doing as he suggested. I walk around to the other side of the bed and pick up the small horse.

“This is cute. It looks like it was hand-carved,” I say as I turn it over in my hand and study it.

I swear in shock when he is suddenly beside me and wrenching it from my palm. “Did I say you could touch my things?” he asks me, his tone cold. His grey eyes swirl with clouds of black.

I hold my hands up in defeat and back away from him with a roll of my eyes. “Someone is grumpy tonight.” I stomp aroundto the other side of the bed and throwing back the cover, climb inside.

I am aware of his angry eyes on me as I intentionally take my time plumping and rearranging the pillows. The carving has me intrigued. It’s clearly something dear to him for him to keep it beside his bed at night. The hand-carved figure appears to have been carved by a child.

My eyes widen when he undresses across the bed from me. I watch in silence as he pulls off his tunic, revealing his chest and those black swirling tattoos that almost look like they are alive. When he pulls off his trousers, I give him my back. Truthfully, there was a part of me, albeit small, that wanted to continue watching him and ogle his impressive physique. Say what you will about this man, but his physique embodies masculinity.

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