Page 89 of Clash of Storms
She had no idea the choice had been stolen from him years ago.
I don't get to be the hero.
All he wanted to do was see her clear of this and protect his brother, and survive. There weren't any other options.
Who do you want to be?Reynar whispered in his head, and he could almost sense the king's ghostly presence behind him.
Damn you, go away.
"Fetch your cloak," he told her, turning to haul off his trousers and prepare to shift. "The winds will be cold—though you might as well enjoy the ride, for it shall be your last."
"As your Highness commands," Malin replied, with a snap to her voice.
He shot her a heated look.
Couldn't stop himself from softening when he saw the hard line of her jaw as she fought to swallow her emotions. "Next time you take to the skies, it will be with your own wings."
"Perhaps." Malin swirled her cloak around her shoulders. "Or perhaps I should stop dreaming of impossible things and prepare myself for reality."
"Malin—"
"Don't."
He captured her wrist, despite her warning. "Dreams are for those who believe in them. I don't believe there's any other path left to me. But there's one in front of you. It's one of the things I admire most about you. Don't give up just because a snarling, arrogantdrekiprince told you to stop believing. He's a fool, who knows not what he speaks."
Sirius bent and captured her mouth, a swift caress of a kiss that threatened to reveal his heart. "If there is one thing I believe, it is this; You will fly. You will soar, Malin. Because you're too bloody stubborn to do otherwise."
She withdrew with a push of her hand, her eyes shooting sparks.
Not forgiven.
Probably never forgiven.
But at least he could end this journey knowing she would be safe and whole and... happy without him.
A demanding presence suddenly reached out to him, beating against his psychic shields like the clash of a hammer against a bell.
Sirius froze as he recognized it. "Stay quiet, " he warned her, turning toward the south.
"Father? You bellowed?"he replied, locking down all his inner guards as he opened a psychic thread between himself and Stellan.
"Where in Tiamat's name are you?"The crush of Stellan's presence was its usual jarring assault. Everything about the Ironfist spoke of using a war hammer when a thin stiletto could be wielded instead.
"I was hunting the princess,"Sirius replied, which was technically not a lie."Why?"
Tension twisted through him.
"You're too late. The bitch is safely within the edge of Rurik's territories. Both you and Roar failed."
He didn't know why the idea sent a thrill through him.
Or no.
Perhaps he did.
Sirius eased out a slow breath. "Árdís escaped."
"Not for long."Stellan sounded distracted. "We're flying forKrafla. Meet us there. And don't be late."
