Page 157 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

There was a white ribbon around the box, which I untied, and lifting the lid, I found a fresh lemon cake.

“Here you go.” He produced two forks and joined me on the bed.

I inhaled the sweet, sugary lemon scent. My favorite. And saw Brockton’s body falling. The wolves dead on the floor. A flash of Jules screaming. Blood and broken glass.

Rhyan cut into a piece of the cake and moved the fork to my mouth. “Whatever happened today, you still deserve to have this.”

A tear rolled down my cheek as I opened my mouth to take the bite, savoring the icing as it melted on my tongue. It was half heaven. Half hell. Something was niggling at the back of my mind—something I wasn’t ready to deal with yet.

With Rhyan’s help, I finished the cake. Afterward, I was too exhausted and emotionally wrought to do anything else but fall asleep as he watched over me. Exactly as he’d promised.

Hours passed before I woke from a nightmare. The images I saw were moving too quickly for me to interpret. There had been flashes of Haleika, Leander, my father, my sisters, Jules.

I opened my eyes and let them adjust to the dark. I’d woken alone. I stretched out my arm, finding nothing. Rhyan’s side of the pillow was cold like he’d been gone for hours.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I sat up, panic washing over me, my stomach twisting.

“Rhyan?” my voice croaked.

At once I heard his breathing, and I turned, catching sight of his silhouette in the moonlight. He was wearing the usual soft knit pants he slept in, and sitting on the edge of the bed, as far from me as he could be. His back was bare; the black gryphon tattoo spread across his skin seemed to come to life as he moved. Its wings spanned across his arms. Beneath the beast were the snowy mountains of Glemaria, our destination. A torn rope wrapped around the gryphon’s leg.

His shoulders shook. He was crying.

I pushed back the blankets, crawling across the bed to him, my leg aching fiercely. “Hey.” My hand rubbed up his back, up the tattoo to his shoulders. His skin was cold.

He coughed and rubbed his eyes, turning to look back at me. “I didn’t mean to wake you. How are you doing?”

I wiped at the tears still welling in his eyes, tracing the soft path of wetness down his cheek. It mingled with the pink of his scar illuminated in the moonlight. Sometimes I forgot it cut through not just his eyebrow but also his cheek, as it was so faint there. “You didn’t wake me. How are you doing?” I sat beside him.

His shoulders stiffened. “I asked you first.” His voice cracked, his words rough like he’d been crying a long time.

“Rhyan, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

His face fell, fresh tears welling. “I just keep thinking about what was going to happen. What they were going to do to you if I hadn’t gotten there in time. I cut it too close. Too fucking close. And it was my fault you were taken—I was an idiot, wasting my power. You were almost—” He swallowed hard. “I almost didn’t make it.”

I crawled into his lap, and his arms instantly tightened around me as he buried his face in my neck. I felt him inhale deeply as I hugged him. “But you did make it. And they didn’t….”

“I know. I know.” He swallowed roughly, his hands moving up and down my back. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to put this on you. You’ve been through enough—too much.” His chest heaved against mine. “I just can’t stop picturing it. You with them. What he said about Jules. The absolute terror of exhausting my power, of being too late. Of failing again.”

My heart hurt as he spoke. I knew he was speaking from experience, speaking of atrocities he’d witnessed at home with his mother. I knew if the roles had been reversed, if I’d found Rhyan tied up like that, nothing in this world would have tempered my rage. I’d barely controlled myself when I’d learned he’d been tied up years before. And much as I was struggling with the knowledge that today I’d taken a life—I didn’t…didn’t regret it. And to protect Rhyan—I’d do it again.

I wound my fingers through his hair, stroking the curls at the nape of his neck. “You got to me in time. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

He cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, his bottom lip shaking. “You left me,” he said.

“I had to.” I searched his eyes. “You were almost empty. They were going to take you.”

“I know you saved me, Lyr. I know that. You’re amazing. But the fear I felt, knowing you were in danger in another country, the absolute helplessness of being unable to reach you—”

“It’s over now. We’re safe. We’re together.”

“Never again,” he seethed. “No more parting.”

I nodded. “Never again.”

“Where you go, I go. Me sha, me ka.” He pressed his fist against his heart, tapping it twice before he flattened his palm over his chest.