Page 38 of To Wake a Kingdom

“It’s true,” I admitted and flicked my hair over my shoulder to a round of laughter from everyone. I snuck a glance at Ronan, whose admiring smile pleased me far more than it should have.

“Again,” I announced, stalking over to the barrel to retrieve another bottle. For the next hour, I continued practising, only missing a handful of times until I’d broken every single one.

“I think I’ve done all I can here,” Noah said, finally. “I’ve created a monster.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, and I threw out an evil cackle.The lesson had done the trick and relieved my burdens for a short time.

The sun was beating warmth on the ground, the sounds of melting snow serenading us with a symphony composed of drips and gurgles. Ronan and Em were circling each other. He was mesmerizing to watch, as graceful and fluid as melted sugar pulled into ribbons.

Blades flashing and grunts echoing, Ronan and Em moved in bursts of precise energy and a sequence of motions, every thrust controlled and practised with years of impeccable training. After a valiant fight, Ronan knocked Em to the ground and pointed his blade at her heart with an adoring smile.

“One day, I’m going to beat you,” Em snarled from her position on the ground, but I could hear the respect in her voice.

Ronan reached out a hand and helped her up. When he moved, I tried not to notice the way his back and arms and stomach flexed and rippled. My mouth going dry, I was failing miserably.

This close, I took the opportunity to study the scars on his back. Thick ridges crossed his skin like a poet scribbling an anguished sonnet. Some wrapped around his sides, where the whip had curled around his ribs. A hard knot of rage formed in my chest, wanting to deliver a tenfold avalanche of punishment to whomever had caused him such pain.

Noah and Em were taking a turn now, facing off across the courtyard as my mind wandered to last night and the dungeon. How much time had passed since the curse’s suspension of time had failed? Had it been happening all along? The likely answer was that it had started when I’d woken up, and that meant we might not have much time left before it consumed the entire castle.

Time. It had become my most formidable foe. One I couldn’t stop, even with an army of a million hardened warriors.

Ronan had been right to stop me before I’d stepped over the threshold. I didn’t know how the magic would affect me. Would I also have dissolved into a pile of nothing? I shuddered. In an increasingly long list of problems, this was another for which I had no solution.

Ronan drifted over to stand next to me, arms crossed and accentuating the curves of his biceps. His bared torso was so utterly distracting that it took a prodigious effort not to reach out and trace a finger along the planes of his stomach. I shook my head, silently admonishing myself.

Stop it, Thorne.

A bead of sweat slid down his neck, slipping through the well of his pecs. My eyes tracked it, like a wolf stalking prey, as a thousand variations of me leaning over to lick it sprinted through my mind before they went straight to the space between my thighs.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I averted my gaze. These were useless thoughts. Tomorrow was Valentus. I’d get what I needed for my tincture in Tenby, Kianna would have her fun, and then Ronan would leave. My secret would be safe. I couldn’t afford any more distractions.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, leaning in close, dispelling every notion of ignoring the way the sun reflected off his skin and how good he smelled, even when covered in sweat. I let out a long breath of air.

“Like I’m zigzagging for cover under a barrage of flaming arrows?”He offered me a concerned look.“I’m scared. And worried. And I don’t know what to do.” The admission felt ripped from my spirit, like I was offering a piece of myself to be weighed and packaged. I’d been trying to hold it together, but Ronan made me feel safe enough to let go, just a little. But I had to keep a better handle on myself. I kept forgetting who he was, and that was going to get me in trouble.

He shifted closer—so close, I only needed to tip forward an inch for my breasts to brush against his chest. Blood rushed to each of my limbs and pooled low in my stomach.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Thorne. Ever.” There was such sincerity in his voice that a tiny spring bud bloomed in my chest, bursting to life in a riot of petals. I studied his face, wondering why he was so intent on helping me.

“Thank you. But I can take care of myself.” My problems weren’t his to solve. He had enough of his own.

Ronan laughed softly, leaning down so his mouth brushed the shell of my ear. I closed my fists against my thighs, resisting the overwhelming urge to sink my teeth into his flesh and taste him. To trace my tongue along the hard lines of his body.

“I have no doubt about that, Little Lion,” he said, his voice smothering me in shadowed silk.

An involuntary smile crept to my face as a shiver rippled down my back.

This felt too good. He was too tempting. Too…distracting. So I pulled away. “I’m going to see how Gideon is doing with dinner.”

After all the times he’d done it, it was my turn to give Ronan the once-over. I let my eyes sweep slowly from his feet, up his thighs and narrow hips, to his chest and impeccable face. His glittering green eyes met mine with such open rawness, I felt like a melon split in half, my insides oozing out in a wet and shapeless heap. The intensity compressed my lungs, forcing me to turn away first.

A low, dark chuckle told me I’d just lost our stand-off, and I huffed in irritation. “Put some clothes on,” I snapped. “It’s winter, for god’s sake.”

Before Ronan could notice my blushing cheeks, I hurried to the castle, more laughter following in my wake.

Later that night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I couldn’t stop seeing the man in the dungeon, half of him eaten away. The image forever tattooed on my brain, I’d carry it with me for the rest of my life. I’d let him down. I only hoped I could do better for the rest of the people in this castle.

Giving up on sleep, I roused from my bed, tying my robe over my nightgown.

Kianna’s door was closed, and I held up a fist, about to knock, when I stopped. I shouldn’t disturb her just because I needed company. Instead, I made my way to the throne room. At the top of the dais, I placed a soft kiss on my mother’s forehead. Every night, I hoped for something. Every single time, I hoped for some flicker of consciousness. For some sign that she heard me or knew I was there. But of course, it never happened.

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