Page 184 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
He turned back toward me, eyebrows frowned and upper lip twisted in confusion. “You know there’s no magical shield keeping you on that side of the door, right?”
“You respect my space, I’m giving you the same courtesy.”
“You can come into my room whenever you want, Allie.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Well, didn’t I feel a bit stupid at not asking before I assumed.
Still, I hesitated on the threshold, like on that first day in the crater, when I held onto the door on top of the roof for dear life, scared the wind might fling me into the pine trees.
Now I feared what these few steps into Ryker’s most private world could mean.
Back when I’d first stepped foot into the fortress, I’d been more worried about him dragging me into this room while I clawed at his face. It had been a minor worry, drowned out by the endless ache I’d been trying not to drown in, but it had crossed my mind.
Now he’d invited me in, I wanted to enter, and, still, I wavered.
Following him into his bedroom felt like breaching a new barrier.
One I didn’t know if I was ready for.
There were just a few steps, but the trust behind allowing me access to the place where he slept, completely vulnerable, was a show of faith nobody in the Clan world could take lightly.
This man had his tongue in my mouth, his hand on my hips, and his whispers in my ear, and yetthisgave me pause.
It was a room.
Just a room.
Hisroom.
So I took the offering for what it was–confidence that I wouldn’t betray him when he was unguarded.
“Thank you for trusting me,” I said, completely serious, and stepped forward.
I hadn’t even allowed myself to focus on his room last time we’d opened the door.
Now I couldn’t stop staring–and I was vividly aware that Ryker was staring at me, his gaze a caress on the side of my face.
The carpet was bloodred–obviously–and soft like mine, with a golden trim that looked to have been weaved out of star rays generations before Clans had even been established, the mark of centuries weaved through every strand.
Other than the display of Blood Brotherhood loyalty–and luxury–the room was almost bare. An old wardrobe to the side, doors open so I saw a row of the same uniform he always wore, plus what looked like a dark-blue ceremonial robe flecked with silver. A chair waited right by the door, his boots placed perfectly upright next to it. The walls were bare, except for a portrait of his mother as a young woman, barely older than me, holding a blond, rubby-cheeked Ryker in her lap, both smiling.
On his window, he had thick blue drapes that couldn’t have let any sunrays in even if this Solkar god would have thrown them himself, and to their right, a small table next to his–
Oh.
Oh.
Nowthatwas a bed.
It was three beds, all in one, judging by its size. It took up almost half the room with zero modesty, angled on the corner so that it slanted straight toward the door to my room. The sheets were the same midnight blue as the drapes and somehow looked even softer and more inviting than mine. The bed had four posters carved out of dark wood, which ended in a canopy that looked ripped straight out of the forest, branches intertwining and coiling above.
He probably could fit the entire fortress in it.
A jab of ugly curiosity reverberated inside of me as I wonderedhowmany had been in that bed. But I suffocated that haunting thought as soon as it sprouted. It wasn’t my business who he’d indulged before we met. It wasn’t like he or anyone in this crater had mentioned one of the Commander’s great big loves.
