Page 121 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
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Vaylen
Ihelp Rhealyn sit up, her naked body still flushed from our lovemaking. A blade of grass has tangled itself in her onyx hair, and I pick it free, letting my fingers linger against the silken strands. The back of my hand brushes her cheek, tracing the contour of her face as if memorizing it. I lean in to kiss her, savoring the softness of her lips.
“Now,” I say, my voice still rough with desire, “are you going to tell me what you and Zephyros were sneaking off to do?”
She sighs, the sound somewhere between contentment and exasperation. “It’s a long story.”
After we dress, she reaches for my hand, interlacing our fingers with deliberate care. Something about the gesture feels intimate and wonderfully normal as I wish our relationship could really be. She pulls me toward a fallen log nearby, tugging me down beside her.
The first rays of dawn streak across the sky, painting everything in soft gold. We don’t have much time before we’re expected back.
“I’ll have to call formation soon,” I observe.
Rhealyn’s eyes narrow, her mouth curving into that mischievous smile that first captured my attention at her Rite of Flight. “I’ll tell you everything on one condition.”
“I’m listening.”
“No supply runs. No stable duty.” She taps my chest with one finger. “And definitely no shoveling horse shit.”
I laugh, the sound startling a nearby bird into flight. “Demanding terms from your High Prime after breaking multiple regulations?”
“That’s right.” She lifts her chin, defiant. “I want patrol duty.”
“You’re still recovering from your injuries,” I remind her, but my resolve is already crumbling under the intensity of her gaze.
“I’m fine. Besides, Zephyros is restless. We need to fly.”
I shake my head, wondering how I ever thought I could deny her anything. Moreover, I need to know what happened with the King and what’s been going on inside that head of hers. “Very well. First patrol is yours.”
A smile brightens Rhealyn’s face as she leans against me. “Smart decision, High Prime.”
I stroke her hair, then tilt her chin upward to look directly into her eyes. “Now tell me what happened with King Craven.”
Her smile fades. She takes a deep breath and looks into the distance.
“It was… unexpected.” A pause that makes me aware crickets are still chirping as if saying farewell to the last traces of darkness. “He did something to my mind. Unlocked memories I couldn’t access.” Her fingers tremble slightly. “When I stood before him, he circled me like I was some trinket he owned. Then he spoke one word and pain tore through my skull. It was like nothing I’ve ever felt.”
My jaw tightens. “He harmed you?”
“Not with his hands, but the memories he unleashed were… I don’t really know what to think.”
“How could he unlock memories like that?” A chill works its way down my spine. “Only a Weaver could reach into someone’s mind.”
Rhealyn shakes her head, her eyes distant. “I don’t think he’s a Weaver. If he was, he would have known what I was thinking after he unleashed those memories.” She picks at the log’s crumbling bark. “When I tried to read his thoughts, his mind felt... wrong. Clouded somehow.”
I frown, trying to make sense of this. “You tried to read the King’s mind?”
“I had to know what I was dealing with.” She offers no apology, and I expect none. “His thoughts were fragmented, chaotic. Almost as if something else was there, or… I don’t know what. Anything seems possible.”
“None of this makes sense,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “What did he want after unleashing these memories?”
Rhealyn’s expression hardens. “He wants me to be his spy here in Fort Ashmire. Report to him weekly on you and Voltguard.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “He expects me to read your thoughts. Tomake you fall in line, whatever that means.”
My blood runs cold. “Why would the King need a spy among his own forces?”
“I wish I knew.” She clasps my hand tighter. “The war has raged for centuries. The Sky Order has always been loyal to the crown. What could possibly make him distrust us now?”
