Page 161 of A War of Three Kings

We sit in the glasshouse, side by side on that carpet of moss, watching the sun set over the horizon. It stains the sky pink and orange. The warm glow falls over the golden turrets and blocky form of Appleshield Castle in the distance. The intense light reflects off the many glass panes of the greenhouses and illuminates the new flower buds on the skeletal trees that surround them.

Aldin drapes his arm over my shoulders, and I lean my head against his chest. He pulls the blanket of flowers and moss he created tighter around us, and I let out a sigh of contentment. This peace is all I have wanted for so long. This quiet time together.

“Aldrin.” I move in his arms to look up at him.

“Hmmm?” he rumbles.

“Thank you.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “For the mind-blowing sex?”

I slap his arm playfully. “For always showing up when I need you. You fought a war for me, and infiltrated the palace with only a handful of people to get me out.”

A tear runs down my face from the overflow of emotion, and he wipes it away with his thumb.

“You never need to thank me, Keira. I will always give you everything and ask for nothing in return. I am in love with you, and I will go to any lengths to ensure you are happy. Don’t you understand that by now?”

My heart hurts with the love it holds for him. I will spend every day of our life together attempting to treat him as well as he treats me. To put him on a pedestal and worship him.

I caress my hand down the light stubble of his cheek. “I love you, Aldrin, more than I ever thought possible.” A thought comes to me, and I frown. “Why did our mate bond lock into place now? We have been through other trials together. Why was this the one that broke it free?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes the traumas pile up until they reach a critical point, and something breaks deep inside us.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth of our bare bodies pressed together.

“What’s next for us?” I ask dreamily.

Aldrin kisses the top of my head. “Whatever you want, Keira. Whatever you want.”

“I want a year where we do absolutely nothing. Hide out at Appleshield and spend time together. Walk in the forest. Hunt deer. Maybe throw a ball or two.”

He wraps both his arms around my waist and squeezes me tight from behind. “My kingdom is not going anywhere, and a human year won’t make a difference. I would still give it all up to have a quiet life here, if that is what you ask of me. Cyprien might hate me for dumping him on the throne, but he’ll do it.”

I glance up into those eyes that shine down at me with such tenderness. “We’ll go back to claim your birthright, to save both our realms. Just not yet.”

Aldrin leans down and kisses me. All thoughts fly from my mind as his hands stroke my naked body, dipping between my thighs.

Chapter 43

Keira

Ishiver at being in the great hall of the palace once more, but this time I thankfully have no role in the royal ceremony. A light murmur ripples through the crowd. I sit at the front of the pews reserved for the nobility, my family on one side of me and Aldrin on the other.

A huge smile is spread across my father’s face, and his emerald eyes blaze with pride. He can hardly stay still, constantly glancing around at the seated nobility, the crowd of commoners standing behind, and the grand doors at the far end of the hall. My mother keeps placing a hand on his tapping leg and whispering words into his ear.

Nervousness rolls through me.

There are so many triggering memories in this place. Especially when I look at the dais with its thrones of intricately wrought gold and purple velvet. I was forced to sit there too many times. The stone altar before it is the very one at which Finan forced me to marry him.

Icy claws run down my spine and a shiver runs through me.

Aldrin squeezes my hand.I am here and he is not,his voice rumbles in my head.

A row of heralds blow a series of short notes on their trumpets, then the gold inlaid doors behind the dais slowly drag open. King Niall steps through the doorway and every person in the hall falls silent. The nobles in the pews stand with a rustle of skirts, silks and brocades.

It is at complete odds with the disrespect they showed to Finan.

Niall wears a floor-length robe embroidered with gold thread and a cape of white fur, collared in purple jewels. His bright blue gaze takes in the crowd. His usual gaunt features and stern expression have a softness to them now, as though the weight he has carried with him his entire life has been lifted.

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