Page 95
“Land!” he screamed to our bird. “Land now! Lady Meera!” He grabbed her arm, pulling her to the floor beside me, so we both lay beneath him.
She took my hand as the glass of the windows all smashed and the carriage jerked violently. Then the bird began her descent. My belly jumped through my chest with the drop.
A moment later, we were on the ground.
“Where are we?” I asked as Rhyan moved off us. His hand was on his dagger, his stance ready for battle, as he eyed our surroundings.
“Urtavia,” he said, glaring out the window. “We just passed the gates of the city. I see the Katurium.” Shouts came from outside.
Meera helped me sit up, using the blanket to brush aside the broken glass littering the floor. I leaned against the carriage wall, my knees drawn up to my chest, still shaky. I took deep breaths as she wrapped both arms around me.
“Are you both all right?” Rhyan asked.
“What’s happening?”
“Shekar arkasva! Shekar arkasva! Shekar arkasva!”The chant was coming from outside, growing louder and more passionate with each cheer.
The Emartis. They’d conjured the black seraphim in the sky, and now they were out.
When Rhyan opened the carriage door, it was mayhem. Ashvan were taking off with soturion riders on their backs. Mages were running in all directions while the Soturi of Ka Kormac shouted orders for everyone to go inside. In the distance were the chanting Emartis wearing black robes with hoods pulled over their faces. Puffs of black glitter exploded in the sky like fireworks, all in the shape of black seraphim. Every time a new explosion erupted, people screamed and ran as tiny fires broke out amongst the ashes.
“We’ve got to get to Cresthaven,” Meera said. “Now.”
Rhyan closed the doors, and the floor immediately shifted beneath us as our seraphim stood, preparing for take-off.
“Sit in my lap,” Rhyan said.
“What?” I glanced between him and Meera.
“Now, so I can hold onto you. I’m not having you flying out the windows again. Until we solve the blood debt, we can’t risk it.”
“He’s right,” Meera said. “Do as he says.” It was a command from my future Arkasva.
I sat down, and Rhyan immediately wrapped his arms around my waist, locking me in place. I straightened, trying not to sink too deeply into his warmth, into the utter sense of safety I felt around him, especially with Meera watching.
But this time, the flight was smooth. None of the Emartis’s black seraphim seemed to be on our route.
His chest rose and fell rapidly behind me, a mirror of my own rapid breaths.
“I thought,” I said quietly, “that you were the calm one.”
“I wasn’t calm last night,” he said, voice low.
“Were you calm this morning?” I asked.
“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.” His arms tightened around me, his hand splayed across my belly.
I sucked in a breath, noting Meera glancing anxiously out the broken window. She huddled into a blanket and wrapped her arms around herself.
“You know,” Rhyan continued, his chest still rising and falling in quick succession, “when I told you to be freer than a seraphim, this is not what I meant.” His breath brushed against my ear and neck, and my stomach coiled. “It was a metaphor.”
“You didn’t specify literal or metaphor,” I said, breathless. Too breathless. The unmistakable feel of his erection pressed against my ass, and my body instantly responded. This was not the place nor the time for so many reasons. I knew it stemmed from the fear and energy of what had just happened. Knew it was a natural bodily response. But I couldn’t stop myself from grinding back against him, sinking deeper into his warmth.
His nose nudged against my hair, arms pulling me against his chest. “If you keep that up, I won’t have any brain cells left to spar with you.” He swallowed a moan as the carriage bounced, causing me to shift against him.
I ran my fingers across his arm. “You still have brain cells left?”
“Questionable.” He shivered against me, readjusting his seat. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, focusing on his breathing, trying to calm my racing heart, to ignore the throbbing between my legs. One finger began to move idly against my belly, like Rhyan couldn’t feel enough of me, like he needed more—even if it was just an inch of stomach.
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