Page 87 of Faeling
And she did. She would. Nothing mattered more than that.
But…what if with this agreement, she could secure the army she so needed? If it meant getting that and her revenge, would it be so terrible to stand beside him? To have and claim him as hers while she could?
Everything inside her, from magic to heart to mind, was fiercely pleased with the idea of claiming him. That he would be unequivocally hers for as long as she had left. No more marriages of alliance, no more flirting courtiers. Orcs respectedmatings, and in their eyes, while they may not like or accept her, they would at least recognize that he was bound to her.
He was a fool for offering her such power—was she a fool too for taking it? Or would she be more of a fool to reject it?
Her desire for him and need for revenge tumbled inside her, a violent clash that split her priorities in two. The turmoil of her indecision ached more than her ribs, leaving Ravenna breathless.
Closing the last little bit of distance between them, Vallek’s breath fanned against her lips. “Be my mate. Please.”
Fates. He was as ruthless as he was dear.
He kissed her gently, lips moving in a light, tender touch that ignited her black, black heart.
Vallek said he couldn’t give up his throne nor her.
As his gentleness seared her, making her magic sing, Ravenna realized—she couldn’t give up her revenge nor him.
He wanted both.
So did she.
Another way they were well suited.
She knew better than to believe she could truly have both. Life was never that simple, fates never that kind. They were both fools, it seemed. She would just have to hope that the consequences didn’t rain ruin upon all orc-kin.
“Yes,” she breathed against his lips. “Yes.”
21
Ravenna didn’t know how she would ever go to sleep again, her mind turning over everything he’d said and she agreed to. Although neither of them moved much at all, her world had utterly changed that night.
Yet, her frayed nerves and exhaustion eventually overcame her again. When her eyes next opened, predawn light filtered into the shallow cave. The air was cool and damp, heavy with the crisp smell of petrichor. The rain had finally ceased, leaving behind soggy gravel and little puddles that reflected a sky still saturated in twilight colors.
A little cold, Ravenna tucked herself tighter to Vallek’s chest as she assessed how far her magic had gotten. It still enveloped her ribs, working away at knitting each back together, but she could at least breathe a little easier. Her cuts and scrapes had scabbed over, good enough for now.
It was her poor broken wing that hurt the most.
Vallek carefully ran his big hand up and down her arm,infusing her with his warmth. “How are you feeling?”
“Pulverized,” she muttered.
“Not many could have survived such a fall.” Understandable—the canyon wall was probably a thousand feet high. She didn’t miss the pride in his voice, and maybe when she was a little more healed and well-rested, she’d appreciate that more. For now, she was tired, hurting, and hungry.
At least she was comfortable. She had her big, stubborn mate to thank for that.
The scent of petrichor mixed with his own musk, a heady combination. She nuzzled her cheek against his chest, her eyes slipping shut again.
A shiver ran through her when she felt the tip of one finger trace the bone of her upper right wing.
Instinctively, she began drawing them back against her, the delicate membrane folding intricately into smaller and smaller sections. But when it came time for her right bottom wing to fold, a stab of pain had her baring her teeth. Her other three wings unfurled again as she broke out into a cold sweat.
She could force the other three into place on her back, but it would be uncomfortable without the fourth. They were meant to fold together, creating a neat little bundle at the center of her back. The bones bent at the joints, forming a little protective shell on top of the more vulnerable membrane.
Vallek made a plaintive noise, his purr growing in volume. “I would set it, but I think you’d better wait for the healer.”
She nodded, fighting back a wave of nausea. Ravenna loathed the idea of letting someone touch her wings—it was difficult even to let Vallek see them, let alone a healer manipulate them. But she would need the bone reset before healing began, even with her magic.
