Page 180 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

“I’ll start groveling…on my knees.”

With that, my stomach tugged, and my boots left the ground. We landed on the other side of the border. I felt the crunch of snow beneath me and sticks and brambles from the dense forest trees around us. Rhyan let out a small moan and leaned back against the nearest sun tree, which was ancient looking with pale white-gold bark. His shoulders were rising and falling rapidly, his gaze distant.

There were no soturi in sight, nor akadim or anything else I could see from a quick scan of the Glemarian trees stretching over us. Nothing specifically that could have caused his distress.

I took his hand. “You okay?”

His shoulders shook fiercely, his body trembling. I pressed my body back to his, my arms around his shoulders. “Breathe, Rhyan. Breathe for me. You’re okay. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.”

I could see his flirtation beyond the border now for what it was. A distraction. A distraction he’d desperately needed before crossing the threshold to return to his home after over a year away, after being forced into exile.

I’d seen Rhyan’s moods go to extreme lows, and I’d seen him rage. But I’d never seen him have a full-fledged panic attack before. I could only imagine what he was feeling, being here for the first time since his mother had died and he’d been named forsworn. This was his home. The placed he loved and missed. His birthright. Yet it was the place where he’d suffered the most, the place where he’d lived under his father’s worst mental and physical abuse.

“Rhyan, I need you to look at me.” I ran my hands down his arms and took his hands into mine.

He nodded, staring into my eyes. But it was clear he could only half see me.

“Rhyan, I need you to take a breath. Can you do that for me? Ready? You’re going to inhale. Good. Now let it out. Nice and easy. I’m right here.”

His nostrils flared, his breath coming up short. I tried again, pressing harder against him, nodding in encouragement. At last, he followed my breathing pattern.

“Good, you’re doing so good. Keep looking at me. Good. Squeeze my hand.”

He did, gently, most likely afraid he’d break it if he squeezed too hard. He’d once told me to squeeze his as hard as I could, that I wouldn’t break him. But with his strength, the reverse wouldn’t be true—not until I had my power.

I looked around for something else he could focus on, but I had a feeling the entire country of Glemaria, the very knowledge he was on his ancestral soil, was bringing this about. Though he’d never said it, I was pretty sure he found traveling overall to be triggering for his anxiety. Especially when here, especially where he’d been punished for it.

He needed a distraction, but there was nothing—only trees, only Glemaria.

I unhooked my armor, letting it fall to the snow, and unbuckled my belt. I grabbed his hands and shoved them up my tunic, inside my shirts to my bare skin. I shook off a small shiver, allowing the cold under my clothing. His aura was wild now, storming around us, nearly as bad as it had been the first time I’d learned he had such debilitating nightmares.

He stilled, his eyes widening, truly looking at me now. His fingers pressed into my belly and I breathed slowly, in and out.

“You’re okay,” I said, as his storm intensified around us. “I’m here this time. We’re staying together. I doubt your father’s even in the country. And even if he is, he can’t hurt you. He can never hurt you again. Remember? Rhyan, you got away. You escaped. You’re stronger than him. And you’re stronger than you were back then. You tore the rope. Anything else that happens, you will survive. You can fight, and you can win. You can tear that rope again and again. And this time, I’m tearing it right along with you.”

He squeezed me, rougher than his usual touch, but I welcomed it. I welcomed anything that would help him feel better.

“Remember who you are,” I said, rising on my toes to kiss him. “Rakame.”

The blizzard ceased. His aura was calming. Finally, he let out a solid, heavy breath, sliding his arms around me.

“Gods,” he groaned. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay,” I said. “Nothing to apologize for. How are you feeling?”

“Ready to do this.” He looked down at my discarded armor and belt, lifting his good eyebrow, before kissing me. “Thank you.” Bending down, he picked up my belt, then fixed the pleats of my cloak.

By the time I was armored up and ready to go, there was a growling screech in the air, and then another, the sounds like a seraphim turning into a lion.

“Look.” Rhyan pointed, and in the sky, three gryphons flew by. Their fur and feathers were a mix of bronze, silver, and gold. “Told you. They make that sound all the time when they’re together,” he said ruefully. A boyish smile spread across his face.

I smiled in return, so grateful to see him returning to his usual self, even though we couldn’t stay here. Any lingering was especially dangerous for us. I hated that he couldn’t simply enjoy Glemaria—at least, the parts of Glemaria he could enjoy—but that day would come. When his father was gone.

“To Gryphon’s Mount?” I asked.

“To Gryphon’s Mount.” His lips tightened, and he had a look of determination in his eyes, which were blazing, focused. And we were off.

Rhyan kept us to the trees, to the wilds—off the beaten paths—which meant my first trip to Glemaria involved me not getting to see any of his country, so my impressions of it basically came down to the fact that it was cold. The coldest country of the Empire by far. The snow here was the heaviest and thickest. And every path Rhyan took us on was uphill, so my calves were burning.