Page 139 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
Vaylen smiles, though he doesn’t seem surprised. He knewthey would all agree. “Thanks, everyone. Await my instructions,” he says.
They start to file out, but Cliffbecker stops and scrutinizes me. “What you said in the beginning, that you are a monster. What was that all about?”
My throat constricts, and despite how practiced I am at deception, I can’t come up with a single lie.
Vaylen comes to the rescue, surprising me. “She fancies this is all her fault somehow, but she needs to get over herself. She’s not that special.” He puts on a sardonic smile.
Cliffbecker only grunts and keeps walking toward the door.
As they file out, I catch Vaylen’s eye, and thank him silently. We’re really doing this. We’re going back to where it all began.
46
Vaylen
Rhealyn follows after the others as they file out of the armory one by one. I exit last. Cliffbecker gives me one last measured look—part warning, part respect—before disappearing through the doorway. Relief washes through me like a gulp of water after a long battle. They’re with us. All of them.
I knew Cliffbecker would be the toughest to convince. The man has survived three decades as a Skydune by questioning every order, challenging every assumption. It’s exactly why we need him. His caution will balance our zeal. A man who’s lived through countless Screechclaw campaigns doesn’t survive by taking unnecessary risks.
Rhealyn stands beside me, practically vibrating with pent-up energy. Her hazel eyes gleam in the dim light, her fingers twitching at her sides. She wants to move, to act, to fly to Hearthdale right now. It’s written in every line of her body.
It’s always like that with her—this readiness to jump without looking, to charge headlong into danger. The very quality that sometimes drives me crazy is also what pulls me toher like a magnet. Her passion burns as bright as dragon fire, wild and glorious.
But passion and war make for a dangerous combination. Too many times, I’ve seen eager young riders fall because they followed their hearts instead of their heads. The Screechclaws don’t care about bravery or righteousness. They kill indiscriminately.
I glance at Rhealyn, memorizing her shape as I have a hundred times before. The firm curve of her shoulders, the slender column of her neck, the proud way she holds her head, the cascade of onyx hair down her back. I wouldn’t change her impulsive nature even if I could, but wyrm’s rot, I’ll do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t lead her to ruin.
The burden of leadership has never felt heavier.
I follow a few paces behind her as we walk through the corridor. The sway of her hips mesmerizes me, her hair swinging with each step, catching the amber torchlight. My gaze drifts lower to the curve of her backside beneath her leathers, and heat rises in my blood.
Goddess help me!Even with the possibility of ancient powers stirring and treason hanging over our heads, I can’t control this hunger for her. Every stolen touch, every forbidden kiss only stokes the flames higher.
The others pull ahead, leaving us in the dimly lit corridor. Before Rhealyn turns the corner, I grab her hand, pulling her back toward me. She spins with graceful surprise, and I press her against the cool stone wall, capturing her mouth with mine.
She responds instantly, lips parting with a gasp that sends fire racing through my veins. Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling around the back of my neck. The taste of her—sweet and fierce—is more intoxicatingthan wine.
“Vaylen,” she breathes against my mouth, the sound of my name on her lips making me reckless.
I need to make her mine tonight.
“You didn’t tell them,” she whispers.
I know right away what she’s talking about. Cupping her face, I let my thumb trace the curve of her cheekbone. “I decided it was too much for them to assimilate. Telling them you’re a Weaver might push them over the edge. After all, we’ve been thought to be afraid of your kind, justly or not. “I want them to see more first. Experience things that can’t be explained. Then, when they learn what you are...” I trail off, suddenly uncertain. “I’m sorry. I should have?—“
“No.” She presses her fingers to my lips. “I’m actually relieved.” A rare vulnerability flashes across her face before she masks it with a smirk. “Let’s save that revelation for when they’re too committed to run screaming.”
The tension dissolves from her shoulders, and I realize how deeply she feared their rejection. My fierce, brave Rhealyn—afraid of being truly seen.
I kiss her again, my passion flaring brighter. “I shouldn’t want you this much,” I growl, my hands grasping her waist, pressing her harder against the wall. “Not with everything at stake.”
“Then stop,” she challenges, her gaze flashing with defiance even as her body arches against mine.
I answer by claiming her mouth again, more urgently this time. My hands slide lower, gripping the firm curve of her backside, lifting her slightly. She responds by wrapping one leg around my hip, pulling me closer until there’s not a whisper of space between us.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling it possessively, sending waves of pleasure down my spine. I trail hungry kissesalong her jaw, down her throat, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips.
“The others could see,” she whispers, though she makes no move to push me away. Instead, her hands fumble with my jacket’s straps.
