Page 17

Alina

RAELAN PAUSES IN THE OPEN doorway, looking equal parts surprised and wary to see me standing there. He’s holding his torn clothing and boots in one arm, and the key to his room is clutched in his free hand, the metal glinting in the light. But he says nothing, offers nothing.

I suppose I’ll need to take the helm, then. Not like that’s atypical when it comes to having conversations with Raelan.

“H-hello,” I say, then feel immediately foolish for stumbling over such a simple word.

“Your Highness,” he says smoothly, seeming to remember himself as he straightens up and adjusts the bundle of fabric held in his arm. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.”

He regards me coolly, betraying nothing.

“About what happened,” I clarify, as if I even need to explain .

Why is he making me so nervous all of a sudden? Apart from anger and frustration, I’ve never been uncomfortable around him, have never stumbled over my words or had to ask myself if I’ve actually forgotten how to breathe whenever his gaze lands on me.

I swallow hard and force myself to stand straighter. “But if you’d prefer I leave, I’ll—”

He closes the door with a resounding click.

And now we’re alone. In his room. With the door closed.

My eyes trace Raelan in the warm firelight. He’s wearing an odd pair of clothes that are clearly much too big on him, the tunic so wide and baggy it very nearly slips off one of his broad shoulders. I didn’t want to draw the girls’ attention to Raelan’s ruined clothing lying scattered about the courtyard when they found me in the rain, so I just left everything there, hoping someone else would clean them up and only briefly consider why they were there in the first place. I see now there was no need for concern; Raelan took care of it, the way he typically does.

He deposits his armful of clothing and boots onto the floor, then crosses his arms over his chest, gaze sharp as he regards me.

I quickly tear my gaze away and say, “Would you like some tea? I can make some while you get changed.”

A thick silence stretches between us, broken only by the crackling of the flames in the hearth. I start to wonder if he’s going to ask me to leave.

At long last, Raelan says, “The tea is there.” He points to the mantel, which is home to a few glass jars filled with various herbs, then pads up the stairs to the loft, bare feet quiet on each step.

With him momentarily out of sight, I try to catch my breath, mentally scolding myself for my silliness while fetching the kettle and filling it with water from the pitcher in the corner. I hang it on a hook over the flames, then busy myself with preparing two teacups. Raelan has a few options for tea: lemon balm, chamomile, and peppermint.

“Which flavor do you want?” I call up to him.

“Peppermint,” he replies, voice muffled, like he’s pulling a tunic over his head.

My gaze flicks briefly to the loft overhead, but all I see is a subtle movement of shadow, and I tear my eyes quickly away.

I fill two cotton sachets with peppermint leaves, then toss them into a couple mismatched teacups and pour the hot water over the top. The minty scent swirls around me, reminding me of the gardens back home, where the peppermint plants grow so wild that our gardeners have to fight to tame them each year.

Raelan’s feet thump softly down the stairs, and I steady myself before turning to face him, one cup held in each hand.

Now he’s dressed in comfortable attire I’ve never seen on him before: a loose-fitting tunic and soft cotton pants, no armor or uniform in sight. Looking at him makes my cheeks warm. I only hope the firelight will hide the blush coloring my skin.

“Peppermint, as requested,” I say, holding out his teacup .

He crosses the room slowly, perhaps even hesitantly, and when he takes the cup from my hand, I notice how careful he is not to touch my fingers.

But why?

A small burst of irritation goes through me. But it’s good. It reminds me why I’m here, helps pull my head out of the clouds.

I settle myself into one of the armchairs near the fire, gesturing with my free hand for Raelan to do the same. He does so, but I note the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in the way he’s holding himself, like he’s as unsure around me as I now am around him.

Best to be out with it, then.

“What was that?” I ask. “What happened?”

Raelan doesn’t meet my gaze. Instead, he stares into the flames, the dancing fire reflected in his glassy dark eyes. A muscle in his jaw goes taut, and then he sighs.

“That was my dragon. It was released when you removed my chain.”

His chain.

The reminder has me reaching into the pocket of my robe, fingers wrapping around the heavy metal, which is warm to the touch from being nestled alongside my body. I hold it up, the links clinking together, and Raelan’s eyes find it.

“Who put this on you?” I ask. “Why do you wear it?”

Worry turns in my stomach. I can’t imagine Grandfather would enslave someone this way. It makes me sick just thinking about.

I hope I’m wrong. If I’m not . . .

“The magic in the chain keeps my beast from emerging. Without it, I could transform at any time.” Raelan stares at it while he speaks, but I can’t quite read the expression on his face, don’t know if he’s looking at it with disgust or with longing—or perhaps a bit of both.

“Where’d you get it?” I ask, running my thumb over the smooth links. It’s beautifully made, so I imagine it was crafted by an expert metalworker.

“His Majesty gave it to me,” Raelan says, turning away from me to stare into the fire once more.

Simmering heat shoots through me. “Grandfather forces you to wear this? How could he—”

Raelan holds up a hand, halting me midsentence. “He forces me to do nothing. I choose to wear it.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”

Without looking at me, he says, “It’s meant to keep everyone around me safe. In exchange, I have to give up some of my freedom—the freedom to transform at will, to give in to my animal instincts.” He swallows hard, and his eyes finally find mine. “Only a Ravenscroft can remove it. One of the Shadowfall witches imbued it with a powerful charm. Once it’s clasped about my neck, I have no power to take it off. Had you not removed it today, you would not have learned the truth.”

The truth: That he’s a shifter. A dragon shifter. The rarest kind there is.

“And Grandfather has known this whole time?”

Raelan softens into his armchair and takes his first sip of tea. “Yes. He’s known since I was a boy. I met him when I was eleven. And we have an agreement: He ensures my mother and sisters have a comfortable place to live, and in exchange, I serve him. The chain is the only way I can do that. Without it, I could hurt anyone at any time. Your grandfather—His Majesty—gave me my life back. He gave me the freedom to exist in this world without fearing I could lose control at any moment. And I’ll be forever grateful to him for that. He’s a good king. A good man. But if he finds out about this...” Raelan clenches his jaw.

If Grandfather finds out about this, he may very well replace Raelan as my personal guard. He might send someone else to watch over me, knowing the danger Raelan poses to me if I’m to remove his chain.

Like I did earlier this evening.

He may even remove Raelan from the guard entirely, which would put his family at risk.

No wonder Raelan has kept his distance from me. Because the moment I got close to him, this is what happened. And it could’ve been so much worse.

My heart twists at the idea of Raelan being gone. And the realization—that I want him here despite previously asking Grandfather to send some other knight to watch over me—hits me hard.

“Alina,” he says, the word soft and warm in the semidarkness, sending butterflies through my stomach, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I think of lying, of telling him I wasn’t afraid, but it would do no good. He must’ve seen my face, must’ve known how absolutely terrified I was as he towered over me, his eyes black as onyx and slitted like those of a snake. And his size—I’ve never seen something so enormous before, something rippling with so much power that it made my body freeze on sight.

Clenching the chain in my fist, I whisper, “You need not apologize. This is my fault. I saw the chain burning you, and I...” I swallow. “I didn’t like seeing you in pain.”

“Pain?” Raelan makes a small sound, like a laugh, and when I glance up at him, his mouth is pulled into a sideways smile. Such an expression is so rare for him that the image nestles itself into my mind for safekeeping. “You’ve no idea,” he whispers, but he offers no further elaboration.

I set my teacup on the side table, careful not to slosh any onto Raelan’s book, then stand and take a hesitant step toward him. His eyes flick up to meet mine as I hold the chain in my hands.

“You may have frightened me,” I say softly, “but you...” I have to catch my breath before continuing. Goose bumps dance across my skin. “You’re magnificent, Raelan. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen something so beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” His eyes narrow slightly, and he pushes to his feet, setting his teacup beside mine. With him standing over me like this, I have to tip my head back to hold his stare. He’s got that tiny smile on his lips again. “If you say so.”

His minty breath makes the thin strands of hair around my face flutter. A delicate shiver goes down my spine at his proximity.

“Do you mind...?” He gestures to the chain still held in my hands, then lowers his head a bit so I can reach him.

With fingers trembling, I ease the chain back onto his neck, fumbling a bit with the heavy clasp and the nervous beating of my heart from being so close to him. Raelan’s skin is scabbed, burned from the magic earlier today, but he doesn’t so much as flinch as the metal settles into place. The links glow with a dim blue light, then go dark once again, the charm having activated.

Raelan lets out a long breath, then straightens up and rolls his shoulders, like he’s acclimating himself to the sudden added weight of heavy armor. “Thank you.”

I nod once. My eyes trace his firm jaw, the shadow of stubble he’ll most certainly shave off come morning. And without deciding to, I lift my hand, hold it toward him.

For a moment, my hand hangs there in the space between us. The fire flickers and crackles, the scent of woodsmoke and peppermint drifting around the warm room.

Raelan holds my stare, as if taking this moment to decide what he wants to do. Then he shifts just a bit, allowing me to place my fingers along his face, brush them across the ridge of his sharp cheekbone. My skin tingles at the gentle contact.

“Why were you in so much pain?” I whisper. “Why did it burn you like that?”

His eyes meet mine, dark and glittering in the firelight. “I think you know why.”

The kiss. The touch. The heat burning between us in the dark.

It’s the same heat building inside me now, swirling through my veins as I touch Raelan’s hot skin.

“Will it hurt you again?” I ask. “If we . . . ?”

I want so badly to kiss him, but I don’t want to hurt him. The desire and fear war inside me.

“I can withstand pain,” he says, his voice low and heavy in the darkness .

My fingers drift down his cheek, across his throat. Beneath my touch, he shivers.

“Seeing you like that...” I recall his scream, the trembling of his body as the magic seared his skin. “It made me sick. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He lets out a low laugh, then puts a hand over mine, presses it against his chest until I can feel the heavy beating of his heart. “What do you want?” he asks.

To kiss him. To touch him. To taste him.

His eyes burn in the darkness.

And for the second time today, I give in. Once more, I allow myself to abandon reason and propriety.

My fingers curl, gripping the soft fabric of his tunic. Between one breath and the next, I close the distance between us.

And then my mouth is on his. And I drown in him.