Page 72 of The Stygian Crown

Kara spread her legs wider and arched her back as he laved her core with his long tongue. “You’re off to a fine start.”

* * *

Calim arrivedat their camp the next day, to everyone’s relief. He led a contingent of royal army members that remained loyal following Ariana’s insurrection. Aidan was among them.

“You’re late!” Jon yelled.

Calim ignored him, scanning the campground for something. His eyes were frenzied, and his horse pranced under his nervous hands. “Where is she? Someone told me she was here.”

“Who?” Jon asked.

“Saphia!”

Kara paused. “Saphia Kingslayer?”

A terse nod.

“She’s recovering, Calim. Whatever grudge you may bear can wait.”

He glared at her, worry obvious in the tightness of his eyes and heavy shadows beneath them. Kara began to wonder just how Saphia had come by the monikerKingslayer.

“I see. She’s in the healer’s tent. Follow me.”

Calim swung off his horse tracked her to the makeshift infirmary. He zeroed in on Saphia as soon as they entered, rushing to her side and kneeling. Saphia was bruised and waif thin, with a brutal, puckered scar beneath her left cheek, but Serena had assured them she’d make a full physical recovery. Healing the mind was another matter, and many of Victus’s victims would bear those scars for the rest of their lives.

Calim pushed Saphia’s ashen, sweat-damp hair behind her ear and kissed her on her brow. Her hands were small and pale in his large palms.

Saphia’s brilliant blue eyes fluttered open. “You came,” she croaked.

“I told you I would.”

“You always were absentminded,” Saphia said, “But I didn’t expect you to lose the entire kingdom.”

Calim’s laugh was slightly deranged. He was infatuated, and he’d believed the worst. Kara slid out of the tent, allowing them the little privacy the infirmary allowed.

“That one has the look of Genevieve’s get,” a honeyed voice said. “The former King Calim, I presume?”

Kara bristled and swung to Namirah. “You’re not to touch him.”

“I vowed to end Urian’s line, and I intend to finish the job. No touching need be involved.”

“Am I not of Urian’s line, then?”

“You’re ofmyline. The others are not so lucky.”

“Are you determined to make enemies of us so quickly? Calim is a good man.”

Namirah glanced toward the tent with a distant, glazed look that often came over her. As if part of her were still beyond that crimson veil. “Perhaps. I shall take his measure.”

Logan and Aidan approached the twin women, as disparate as the sun and moon. The golden god and the beast of night.

Aidan nodded at Kara. “Celine. Err—Kara, is it? I’m glad to see you’re well.”

Kara flushed. She hadn’t considered the fallout of her true identity being revealed to others from court.

Aidan gave her a small grin. “We’re due for another spar. One where you don’t hold back, this time.” His gaze fell to Namirah, and his eyes popped open. His throat bobbed with a rough swallow. “I should go help Calim.” Aidan hurried off towards the wrong tent.

Logan wrapped himself around Kara from behind and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I believe you’ve left the viscount speechless.”

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