Page 60 of In The Dark

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he huffs in annoyance.

“I’m getting hungry.”He stomps his hoof.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry!” I whisper again.

“Your king follows you,”Bjorn adds almost in warning, and I whirl around. My heart thumps frantically in my chest. I expectto find King Elion behind me only to see Rydian securing his hood, descending the steps of the Painted Bird.

Right, he means King Rydian, not Elion. I groan, then frown, willing my heart rate to slow and realizing that he saidyour king.

“You’re coming with me?” I ask, turning sharply to Rydian. “Can’t you walk in the Veil, or better yet, meet me there?”

“I could… but I don’t want to.” He smirks, giving Bjorn an apple. “You’re more interesting.”

“You’re walking.” I grab the pommel, swinging myself over, when he grips my hand, catching me off guard.

My eyes widen, glancing down just as he releases me, though I recover quickly, tossing my braid over my shoulder, as if that will somehow settle the flood of heat rising in my face. Tugging the edges of my hood forward, I pull my scarf over my nose, creating a makeshift mask to shield myself.

Rydian smirks. “No, I’m not. He loves me. See? He doesn’t mind.”

I glance down, eyes narrowing as I watch him caress Bjorn’s face, the dark horse leaning into him. The scene is ridiculous, with Rydian looking smug while Bjorn practically melts under his affection.

“Traitor.”I push the thought out. Rydian’s smirk deepens as though he’s heard my thoughts loud and clear, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Well?”I ask Bjorn.

“It’s true. I’m fond of the dark king.”

I exhale, throwing my head back, and huff, my face heating from behind the thick scarf. “Fine, but if you eventhinkabout trying something, you’re walking the rest of the way,” I warn, my words coming out muffled. “And you need to conceal yourself. I don’t need to be questioned about why there’s a mysterious male riding behind me while we pass through.”

Bjorn shuffles his feet, tossing his head as if in agreement,but Rydian doesn’t move right away. Instead, his lips quirk into that maddening smirk of his.

“You’ll be questioned regardless because of how loud you are, little fawn,” he quips.

My hands tighten on the reins, his words quickly reminding me of our moment on the saddle a couple of weeks ago, my face burning hotter. It makes me want to throw something at him—preferably something sharp.

“Hurry up,” I snap, losing my patience.

Rydian chuckles before swiftly swinging himself behind me in one swift motion. His movements are annoyingly graceful, and the shift in weight brings him closer than I’d like.

I stiffen slightly as his arm brushes against my waist. Then he Veils himself, his form disappearing into the shadows as if he were never there. Despite the lamp lights lining our path, the night remains dark enough to keep us both concealed.

“See?” His voice hums low in my ear. “Hidden. Just like you asked.”

He adjusts his hips, shifting to get comfortable, and I let out a groan, knowing he’s doing it just to get under my skin.

He chuckles again as we set off at an easy pace, and I can’t help but bask in the warmth seeping in from the back of my cloak. He’s the only thing keeping me from shivering as snow comes down in sheets above us, blanketing the realm in a soft, white pillowy cloud. The once-visible path slowly disappears beneath the swirling drifts, leaving Bjorn to navigate back to the castle by instinct. Each step he takes crunches softly beneath his hooves.

The cold air bites at my eyes, and I’m suddenly thankful for the fur-lined cloak and scarf that I brought with me. Rydian doesn’t seem to shiver once, but his steady presence behind me makes the bitter chill of the night somewhat bearable.

“Is Ivy still in Aurelia?” I ask as we reach the edge of Alvonia,cloaked in darkness as we travel toward the castle’s main entrance.

“Yes. She’s taking care of the realm while I’m away. She and Orin will join us soon.”

“And Orin is your third in command?”

“Yes, and he’s brilliant. Why he’s in my army, I’ll never know. He would make an excellent scholar,” he says casually.

His hands suddenly slip beneath my cloak, gripping my waist, fingers wrapping tight around my ribs. My lips part. The chill of his skin seeps through my tunic, yet his touch ignites a fire in me so low it’s hard to ignore.