Page 21

Alina

RAELAN COMES ALIVE AROUND HIS family in a way he’s never come alive around me. It takes him a while, but he eventually softens, as if each moment spent here helps to pry one armored plate from his shoulders and chest, until it’s just Raelan—beautiful, beaming Raelan.

He plays dolls without embarrassment, then carries Gilda around on his back, making her squeal with delight. Clarice, who seems to be in her early teenage years, watches with a look that tells me she wants to play but is perhaps too shy in my company to do so.

“Your hair is beautiful,” I tell her as I help her put the last few dolls into a wooden toybox. “I’m quite jealous.”

Her hair is as dark as her mother’s, and it’s thick and beautifully wavy. At the compliment, she reaches up to tuck a wave behind her ear, cheeks reddening. “Th-thank you. I like yours too. It’s blue because you’re a witch, right? ”

I nod once, then hold out a hand. Clarice watches as frost dances across my palm, and then I send a few snowflakes drifting through the warm autumn air. Her hazel eyes gleam, following a flake until it settles upon the windowsill and melts into nothing.

“Wow. You’re amazing.”

I laugh as I push to my feet. “My professors may disagree with you.”

Clarice’s lips quirk up on one side. “How could they? You’re the princess.”

“Well,” I say as we rejoin the rest of Raelan’s family in the main room, “even princesses have to go to school, and we’re not good at everything, despite what the fairy tales might say.”

Gilda is still giggling as Raelan slings her off his back and sets her on her feet. He musses her hair lovingly, then says, “All right, little one. I think it’s about time I get the princess back to the academy. She probably has a paper to write.”

He withstands a barrage of begging and whining but doesn’t give in.

Over Gilda’s voice, I say, “Perhaps I can come visit you again.”

All four of the Ashvales turn to look at me. My skin prickles under the weight of their stares.

“That is, if Raelan is okay with it,” I add quickly.

“Of course he is!” Gilda exclaims. “And you can do anything you want, right? So, you’ll come back tomorrow?”

Raelan and Soraya open their mouths to intervene, but I say quickly, “Maybe not tomorrow, but very soon. I’ll bring you another dessert, and we can play dolls again.”

This seems to placate her for now, at least enough for me and Raelan to slip out the door, waving goodbye all the while. Soraya steps out behind us, closing the door. The air has a bit more of a chill now, as clouds have started creeping across the sky, hiding the sun from view.

“Thank you for visiting us,” Soraya says. “It was quite a treat, Your Highness.” She dips her head to me, then looks to her son. “And it wasn’t so bad seeing you either.” She pulls him in for a hug and plants a kiss on his cheek, then steps back.

“The pleasure was mine,” I say. “And I do hope to visit again.”

“You’re welcome anytime.” Her eyes—one milky, one brown—flick to Raelan, and something unspoken passes between them, though I can’t say what it is. Perhaps something having to do with their whispered conversation this afternoon. I’d like to know what it was, but it’s none of my business—and besides, I probably couldn’t pull it from Raelan even if I tried.

We bid goodbye to his mother, then descend the steps from the apartment back to the cobbled walkway below. Our boots clip along the stone, accompanied by the light sounds of conversation as we move through Wysteria. A breeze sends a few colorful leaves skittering across the road, and I draw my arms around myself to ward off the chill.

“Thank you,” I say as we start back in the direction of the academy. “For letting me meet them. ”

Raelan makes a small sound in his throat but otherwise doesn’t respond.

My eyes flick to him, and I find that he’s wearing his mask again, a slight furrow in his brow.

Treading carefully, my curiosity getting the better of me, I ask, “Your mother... What happened?”

I noticed right away the scars running down the length of her face, right over her milky-white eye.

A moment of quiet passes between us. I’m not so sure he’s going to respond—and I’d understand. This really is none of my business.

Eventually, Raelan lets out a small breath. “My father did it. On accident. It was years ago, and he left right afterward. I think he was afraid to hurt us.” His dark eyes meet mine. His gaze is sharp. “It’s why I wear this chain. Why I have to be careful.”

I picture the beast that burst from his skin, bigger than any living creature I’ve ever seen. It— he —could have swallowed me in one gulp or shredded me into thin ribbons with his glistening fangs.

I should be afraid—it’s the most logical response to something so intimidatingly powerful. But when I trace Raelan’s face with my eyes, take in the wounds still marring his neck, I can’t bring myself to fear him.

Perhaps something is the matter with me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

He looks away again, leaving me to ponder his words.

I suppose I never stopped to wonder which of his parents was the dragon shifter, who gave him the magic that runs through his veins .

“What of your sisters? Do they have . . . ?”

“No.” The word is clipped. “Thank the deities.” At his sides, his fingers curl into fists. His brow crinkles further.

“Are you . . . upset?” I ask.

My hope is that he’ll quickly deny it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a deep breath through his nose, then lets it out in a sigh.

“You’re making this difficult, Alina.”

His use of my name makes my heart patter pleasantly. Despite me having asked him to use it instead of my title, he rarely does. “What do you mean?”

When his eyes meet mine, they’re dark. “You know what I mean. This”—he gestures between us with one quick movement—“can’t happen. We both know it. Why make things harder than they need to be?”

The pleasant thrumming of my heart shifts abruptly, turning hot with anger. “Why can’t it happen?” I ask, halting on the sidewalk. The people walking behind us have to shift to flow around. Raelan takes me gently by the elbow and escorts me into the mouth of a narrow alleyway, out of the way of passersby. He glances around before replying.

“You know why.”

His cold tone has me gripping the edge of my cloak, clinging to it to keep grounded. I remind myself of his scream, the way his body trembled. His pain .

But then we kissed last night. So why, now, is he acting so distant again? He’s making me dizzy.

“Please elaborate,” I say, trying to keep my anger and hurt at bay .

Raelan’s jaw flexes, his eyes sharpening as he looks down at me. “Because you’re the princess, and I’m just your guard. In no world are we allowed to be together. Wishing for it will do no good. It’ll hurt us both.”

I cross my arms. “That’s ridiculous. My grandfather—”

“Is the king,” Raelan says, cutting me off. “What do you think he’d say if you told him about us? About what we’ve done?”

“Well, he . . .” I trail off.

In truth, I’m not sure what Grandfather would do. He’s always told me that he wants me to carve my own path, to marry for love rather than duty. But does that leniency extend to members of his own guard? Would he truly allow it?

Feeling suddenly flustered, I glare up at Raelan and say, “There’s nothing to tell him about us. You kissed me. Twice. That’s it.”

Raelan tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “No, you kissed me . I’ll take no responsibility for that.”

An ember of defiance flares to life inside me. “You weren’t complaining about it last night,” I mumble with a shrug.

And though I don’t think he means to, Raelan lets out a low growl. It sends a shiver across my skin.

“You shouldn’t speak to me of last night,” he bites out.

“Why?” I challenge.

His jaw feathers again, and he finds my elbow once more. Though it may be my imagination, I think his hand is warmer now through the fabric of my long-sleeved dress. He leads me farther down the alley. It’s quieter here, a distance off the main road, and very few people even turn their heads to regard us as they pass by, too absorbed in their own business to care.

“Because,” he growls, “I came very close to—” He clamps his jaw closed hard, huffing out a breath. I want so badly for him to finish that sentence, but he’s not even looking at me now. “We can’t let it happen again.”

“Is it because of...?” I nod toward his chain, with the burn visible just beneath the links.

Raelan sighs again. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so annoyed with me. Still, it comes nowhere close to how upset he was about Tristan.

“No. My pain has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what are you so afraid of?”

This forces him to meet my gaze. Now his dark eyes burn.

“You are the one who should be afraid. You saw my mother. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”

“Of course I do.” A strand of hair drifts across my face, and I reach up to push it behind my ear, noting Raelan’s intake of breath as I do so. “But I... I trust you.”

Ralean scoffs and turns away, pacing a few steps from me, his back turned. His broad shoulders appear tight. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why?” I stand up straighter and lift my chin. “Give me one good reason.”

He whips around and crosses the alley to me in two wide steps. His chest forces me back, and I let out a small breath as he pushes me against the ivy-clad brick wall, his hands coming up on either side of me so his arms cage me in. Against the whites of his eyes, his pupils are sharp again, having tightened into narrow lines. “Because you have no idea what I want to do to you.”

Again, I realize I should be afraid. But instead of wanting to cower back or run from him, I find myself getting warm, heat blossoming in my low belly and between my legs.

And I can’t stop myself from grabbing his tunic and pulling him closer, can’t resist the desire to press my mouth to his, even if it’s foolish—and potentially even dangerous, for both of us.

Unlike yesterday in the castle corridor, when Raelan froze beneath my mouth, this time he responds immediately, his lips moving against mine without hesitation. He tastes of chocolate and strawberry, and his body puts off so much heat that it washes over me like a summer breeze, keeping me warm despite the chill in the air.

My fingers work their way down his tunic, to the waistband of his trousers. When they curl around the edge, Raelan lets out a trembling snarl, and he forces his weight against me, pushing me back into the wall and grinding his hardening length against my thigh.

I’ve kissed boys, have fooled around with them in darkened halls and firelit parlors, but I’ve never felt a man inside of me. And I know now, with certainty, that I want Raelan to be my first.

I kiss him hard and fast. My mouth finds his jaw, then his neck. Beneath my lips, his muscles strain, every inch of his body coiled tight as my touch trails across his skin. He smells slightly of the café, mixed with a pleasant muskiness that’s distinctly him . It twines around me in the heat put off by his body, serving only to make me wetter, to make me want to wrap my legs around him and discover what it would feel like to have him buried inside me.

“Tell me,” I whisper against his skin, making goose bumps pebble along his throat beneath my breath.

“Tell you,” he grunts out, “what?”

I smile slightly against his throat. “What you want to do to me.”

Against his skin, the chain starts to glow blue. Raelan is breathing harder now, the trembling of his body intensifying. I pull back to look at him, but he has his eyes squeezed shut, his brow furrowed with pain or concentration—I can’t tell which.

His eyes open, finding mine.

And I can see the dragon within him. Flecks of gold have appeared in his eyes, beautiful and otherworldly.

“Alina, I—”

Raelan’s head jerks abruptly to the side, his words cutting off as his gaze snaps to the mouth of the alley. His eyes narrow, and I follow his gaze.

Across the road, a few people are walking, drawing their cloaks closer about their bodies against the breeze. Dancing leaves swirl down from the trees lining the cobblestone walkways, coming to rest upon the road, where they will soon be crunched into leaf dust by horses’ hooves or carriage wheels. I can see nothing of note.

“What is it?” I whisper. “Did you see something?”

Raelan pushes off the wall, his slitted eyes still turned away from me, but what they’re searching for, I’ve no idea .

“I don’t know,” he says at long last. The tightness in his trousers lessens, leaving me feeling frustrated. What will it take for him to finally touch me in the way I crave? “But we should get back.”

Raelan draws himself up, looking every bit my protector. I just don’t see what he thinks he needs to protect me from.

I ease myself off the cold brick wall, feeling chilled now without Raelan’s body heat to keep me warm. Disappointment floods through me, twisting my stomach into a knot. But I try not to let it show. “Very well.”