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A hint that held echoes of his father.

A reminder that for however different he seemed, he’d been raised in a house and a kingdom that saw women as little better as serfs or Mareritt fodder.

“The queen needs my help.”

“Withwhat? And why would she come to you?”

Meaning my father hadn’t mentioned why I’d been out near Eastmead.

“Long story. Stay here.” I looked at my father. “Whatever you do, don’t leave—or even react—until we’re gone.”

“Bryn, you can’t?—”

“Someone—or something—has attacked her drakklings. I can’tnotdo this.”

My gaze returned briefly to Damon, then before common sense got the better of impulse, I rose onto my toes and kissed him. He stiffened briefly, then slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer, pressing my length against the warm hardness of his. Our kiss deepened, became far more than what I’d initially intended. He was passion and need and urgency, and it drew me in and swept me away, until there was nothing more than him and me and the desire that threatened to burn out of control between us.

The queen bellowed—a demand to hurry. I pulled back sharply, my breath shallow and quick. I stared at him for the longest of seconds, utterly surprised by what had happened. Never, ever, had I been kissed as thoroughly as that. Never, ever, had it affected me as fast or as deeply.

This thing between us—whether it was mere passion or something deeper—was dangerous.

Not physically. Emotionally.

“While I’ve never been averse to kissing a pretty woman, especially now she’s my wife,” Damon said, his voice soft, his eyes glowing with twin fires of desire and amusement, “I still need to ask... why?”

“I just thought I’d better at least taste my husband’s offering in case I don’t survive this.”

“Survive what? What exactly are you going to do?”

It was impatiently said, and I touched his arm. “I’m sure the queen will explain soon enough.”

“That is hardly comforting, given I cannot hear her.”

“No, but Mom can. Stay here.”

I turned and ran for the stairs. Damon immediately followed. The queen bellowed, and her head snaked down, sharp teeth bared in warning and her mind filled with sudden anger. Not at me—at the man behind me.

They killcame her thought.They always kill.

Men, she meant, not Damon in particular.

I spun and placed a hand against Damon’s chest. Felt the rapid pounding of his heart underneath my fingers. Saw the determination and flick of anger in his eyes. Whether at me or the queen or something else, I had no idea.

“You need to step back, or she will kill you.”

“This is insane, Bryn?—”

“Yes, it is, but it’s also who I am. Now, stepback.”

His gaze cooled, sweeping briefly between me and the queen. Then he nodded and retreated.

The queen huffed, a sound that was an odd mix of amusement and satisfaction. She’d been following the conversation via our mind link, I realized, even though I’d thought it closed. Which meant our connection was not only far deeper than I’d initially thought, but she could initiate it as easily as me.

I turned and bounded up the rest of the steps, then raced around the wall toward her. She shifted, watching me, her black eyes gleaming like diamonds in the morning light. Tears. There were tears in her eyes. The realization hit like a hammer, and it felt like my heart was about to break.

I slid to a halt several yards in front of her. She towered above me, her legs thicker than my torso and the smallest of her claws larger than my head. The wind of her wings streamed my hair behind me, and the stink of her blood hung heavily on the air.

I gulped, swallowing the wash of instinctive fear.How do we do this?