Page 96 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

“At least until the consecration.” I frowned.

“Fuck. I hate to say it, but we need the Afeyan bastard to show himself.” He breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of my hair, his hands sliding up and down my back. “But maybe not tonight. Gods, I missed holding you.”

“Same,” I said, squeezing him tighter.

“Do you need me to take you back to your apartment?” he asked.

I leaned back, just enough to look into his eyes. “Did you forget what I said last night?”

“I’ll never forget a single word.” His hand drifted down my side, fingers pausing on the chain around my waist. His fingers slid along its length until he found the vadati stone hanging just below my belly.

I held his gaze, my stomach clenching, heat coiling low from his touch. “Good. Because I’m staying.”

His eyes were hooded with desire, and I knew mine were, too. Both of us were thinking of last night, of what we’d said, what we’d shared.

Gods. I’d still been wet in the morning.

But the redness in his eyes had me on guard, as did the slope of his shoulders and the way his head hung forward. He was still reeling from seeing his father. I knew he needed tonight to rest, to recover. He was exhausted. And so was I.

Tomorrow, I’d return to the arena. I’d be forced to face the track, the place where I’d killed Haleika, the place where my father had been murdered.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “Why don’t we scrounge together some food and call it a night? We need to be ready for tomorrow.”

His eyes flicked up and down my body, his desire for me obvious. But as he exhaled and rolled back his shoulders, some of his tension visibly falling away, I knew I’d said the right thing.

So we did just that. Rhyan checked in with Aemon, telling him I was safe and secured in my apartment after he walked me there, just to make a show for the guards on duty. Then he made a quick trip to the Katurium’s dining hall to restock on food, and picked me up. Back in his apartment, we filled our plates high with his favorites, and I stole another pair of his sleep pants and a worn-in shirt of his to sleep in.

We crawled under the covers together, kissing. But there was still a haunted look in his eyes, one I knew had come from his father.

“Only good dreams,” I whispered against his lips.

“Only good dreams.” He kissed me again and pulled me into his arms, his hand seeking out the warmth of my skin beneath my shirt. Soon, his breathing evened, signaling he was asleep.

I stayed awake, guarding his sleeping body as visions of him tied with black rope haunted me until morning.

I stared at the arena from the doorway of the Katurium. My stomach was in knots. My breath came in short gasps. Just like the last time I’d come here, I felt sick and terrified of stepping outside.

I searched desperately for Rhyan. We hadn’t been together or even looked at each other since he’d dropped me off at my apartment this morning so we could dress separately for our first day training since the Valyati holiday. We knew we had to do our best to keep our distance in public—especially with his father in the country. Even if he didn’t know any specifics, he knew enough, and Rhyan and I both knew he required very little motivation to use that knowledge against us or to attempt to manipulate me into betraying Rhyan.

I looked out on the track, quickly filling with my classmates, and realized Rhyan was already out there, standing in our usual starting point. His dagger was in the ground, and he was stretching, moving through the first few of the 108 Postures of the Valya.

A howl sounded behind me—a wolf from Ka Kormac. I stepped back, trying to become invisible, willing him to pass me by.

But that was too much to hope for. Brockton Kormac, son of the Bastardmaker and Lord Viktor’s apprentice, stood before me.

“You have to step outside to run, you know,” he smirked, “Lyr.” He elongated my name, taunting me with his informal address. I was only Lyr to those closest to me. Even here, if I wasn’t your grace, I was my lady or, at the least, Soturion Lyriana.

I slid my hand to my belt, feeling the reassuring weight of my dagger sheathed at my hip.

He took a step closer, as two more wolves joined his side. “You know,” he said, “now that you’re free of Lord Grey, we could have some fun, me and you.”

“Step aside,” I ordered. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Another two wolves joined him. My heart began to hammer. Aemon was nowhere in sight. Nor was Turion Dairen.

I spotted Naria passing by. Despite her engagement to Tristan, she was walking with Viktor, who cackled gleefully when he saw me surrounded by his apprentice and soturi.

“Come on, Batavia,” he sneered. “Walk in with Brockton. Behave.”