Page 35 of Acolyte (Tempris #2)

Skye dragged a finger across her cheek, then down the line of her jaw.

She looked just the way he remembered. So beautiful—every feature so infinitely dear.

“This is absurd,” he whispered. He’d never had a dream this vivid before, one where he felt so…

present . If it weren’t for the way the ballroom still shifted and swayed behind them, shimmering like a film of soap, he might’ve been able to convince himself it was real.

“I’m aware,” she said with a snort. “Believe me—I know how crazy I sound. Which is why I need to jump off the balcony now.”

Pushing herself to her feet, she began climbing over the railing, but Skye was at her side in an instant.

“ Stop it ,” she barked, trying to shake him off.

“No, you stop it.” Placing both hands on her shoulders, Skye twisted them around so that he was standing between her and the balcony ledge. “This is my dream, and I’m not going to watch you fling yourself into an early grave.”

But in typical Taly fashion, she just huffed. Then chuckled. Then rolled her eyes, muttering a “Nice try,” as she cut a glance to the balcony railing behind him. “Move,” she said. “I need to wake up now. I refuse to watch you die again.”

He held out an arm when she took a step. “What does jumping off a balcony have to do with waking up?”

Taly shrugged. “Someone told me that if you fall in a dream, you wake up. That’s why I came out here. I wanted a quick exit.”

“Well…” Skye glanced behind him, beyond the railing at the hundreds of ships lining the shore.

“I’m not dead. Yet ,” he quickly added when it looked like she was going to say something.

“See?” He reached for her, pressing her hand to his heart.

That brief touch, along with the soft sigh that slipped out of her as she leaned into him, made his knees go weak. “So… what’s the rush?”

She looked up at him through a thick veil of lashes, and for a moment, he could’ve sworn that her eyes seemed to shine with an inhuman light. She blinked, and it was gone.

“I suppose that’s true,” she said, flexing her fingers in the fabric of his coat. “But if a group of shades suddenly burst through that door—”

“I’ll push you off the side of the estate myself.” Skye grinned when she seemed to relax, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He held out a hand. “In the meantime—dance with me?”

Taly stared at his outstretched hand like it might bite her. “What?”

Skye laughed as he stepped closer, placing a hand at her waist. Even through the dream, she felt warm. “If, as you say, I’m just biding my time until I inevitably die—can’t I at least spend my last few moments dancing with a beautiful woman?”

The scowl she gave him was one of her best—truly well done—but he didn’t miss the way her lips twitched. Just at the corners. A faint blush stained her cheeks, and when she finally huffed, refusing to meet his eyes, he knew he’d won.

The music started up, trickling out from the ballroom. Skye took her other hand in his, waiting for her to gather her skirts before he took a step, then another. She followed his rhythm effortlessly.

“You’re a better dancer than I remember,” Taly said a bit airily as he spun her around.

“Well, it’s easier to lead when your partner isn’t purposefully trying to step on your feet.”

A light snow had begun to fall around them, but Taly’s sharp bark of laughter as he continued to steer her into the dance chased away any cold he might have felt.

The music quickened, but the steps were familiar.

They’d learned this dance together, back when they were still children.

And even though they were older now, and she was wearing a dress instead of trousers and heels instead of boots, the press of her body against his as they eased into the next dance was as comfortable as it was new.

Like coming home , he thought as he pressed his nose to her hair. That was why he had dreamed of this place, this house that he went out of his way to avoid. Anywhere that Taly was… that would be his home.

It could’ve been minutes, hours, days since the dance began. And still, they continued to waltz around the small patio, spinning, never faltering, each step perfectly in sync.

The music finally began to fade, and as Skye spun her into the final step of the dance, he dipped her low and pressed a gentle kiss to the hollow of her throat.

Taly’s answering gasp had him smiling against her skin as he slowly dragged his lips along the column of her neck.

When he reached her mouth, even though it pained him, he pulled back just enough to find her staring up at him, her eyes soft, the look on her face a mix of breathless desire and gentle affection.

In that moment, it frightened him the things he would do to make sure she always looked at him that way.

“Back in Ebondrift,” he said, and then let his eyes drop to her mouth, “you said I had to ask for permission to kiss you? Does that rule apply in dreams?”

Taly smiled, so warm and lovely, it made everything around them seem just a little bit brighter. “Why? Are you getting tired of asking? ”

Skye pulled her out of the dip, snapping her into his arms. “You know I would never ruin your fun. Although, I was thinking that if you intend on enforcing this rule, I’m going to need to come up with a form. It might save me some time.”

Taly angled her head, her hands sliding up his chest to circle his neck. “It sounds like this is something you plan to be doing a lot.”

“Yes,” Skye said, nodding. He still felt the pull of that phantom thread, tugging just a little tighter as he began to lean forward. “In fact, when you come back, I plan to never stop kissing you.”

“Well, that’s just impractical,” she whispered, her lips nearly grazing his. “You’d have to stop some time. To eat. To sleep. And considering how much you love the sound of your own voice, I don’t see you taking a vow of silence.”

“You know you’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I am exactly as funny as I think I am.”

Her eyes drifted closed. His lips had just barely touched hers when he felt something snap, fluttering just out of reach as the world went dark.

Skye had never seen the streets of Ryme packed so full of people.

Mortals and fey alike crammed between the rows of market stalls and street vendors, and merchants rushed about, bickering and bartering as the villagers and refugees frantically bought up what little food was left at the end of the day.

Stray dogs hovered around the edges, no doubt waiting for whatever scraps might come their way, and several earth mages pushed their way through the crowd, leading milk cows and carrying crates of chickens and other fowl as they made their way to the areas that had been set aside for livestock.

Mud and hay and Shards only knew what else coated the broken cobbled pavement underfoot, and as Skye passed by yet another darkened alleyway, he grimaced as the stench of the street mixed with the scent of spices and roasting meat that lingered on the air.

After the battle at Crescent Canyon, they had stayed in Della only a handful of days, waiting, searching, and allowing the earth mages to stabilize as many of the wounded as they could with so few resources.

They kept in touch with Aiden via the comms, and when he sent word that he had found a lead on Taly’s whereabouts and would meet back up with them in Ryme, Ivain made the decision to start moving the refugees.

It had taken four trips to load up every man, woman, and child onto the airship and transport them back to the village at the northern end of the island, and then one more to go back for their supplies.

Sarina had cried, and cried, and cried when Skye and Ivain finally stepped off the airship as it was docking for the night.

Even now, almost two days later, the woman was still fussing.

Skye breathed a sigh of relief as he turned onto a quieter street, grateful to be free of the crowds.

The houses were larger and more evenly spaced in this section of town, each one made of sturdy stone and trimmed with little patios circled with painted iron.

The Castaros’ townhouse—a five-story, gray-bricked manor that sat on a parcel of land larger than any of the rest—perched at the very top of the hill.

Since the attacks began, Ryme had been transformed.

The slums had been repurposed, every inch of underused space converted into gardens and farmland, and food production had moved inside the walls.

Their supplies were holding, as were their walls and fortifications, and thanks to the preparations the Gate Watchers had begun months ago in anticipation of the Aion Gate opening, the repairs on the Swap as well as other key structures were nearly completed.

Soon, if their luck held out, every refugee would be afforded the luxury of a warm bed and a roof that didn’t leak.

They could hold the city for months, long enough to escape through the Aion Gate and into the mortal cities. It was the best scenario they could’ve hoped for, even if there were too many missing faces to make that victory seem anything but hollow.

Finally making his way to the top of the hill, Skye placed a hand against the lock that sat in the center of a set of wrought-iron gates. There was a click, and the gates swung open on creaking hinges.