Page 43 of Lana Pecherczyk

Well-dammit.His cock twitched at the memory.

If they were alone…

Fine. He admitted it. He wouldn’t think twice about fucking her. He’d take her hard against every surface he could find. He’d part those soft thighs and sink in until his balls slapped against her ass. He’d bite those plush lips until they swelled. He’d do things to her that would make the most seasoned Rosebud Courtesan blush and beg for mercy.

But there’d be no falling in love.

And definitely no bringing her to the Great Murder, where a blade between the ribs was more common than a handshake.

Possessive fury flooded his veins. The thought of anyone else touching her, hurting her, made his claws itch to emerge. He’d eviscerate anyone who dared. The intensity of his reaction terrified him. When it came to protecting their treasures, crows were vicious. When it came to protecting their mates, they were fucking unhinged.

His teeth ground together as he dropped his shirt and raised a brow at Blake. “Go on, then. Draw it.”

He’d given her mere seconds to memorize the tattoo Cloud’s lightning had butchered. Once, it had symbolized the Umbria family kettle—his heritage, his identity, his bonds of loyalty. Now it resembled nothing but charred remains. His mother would castrate him when she discovered he’d hidden the damage. Tattoos weren’t just decorations for crows; they were history, milestones, and a sense of belonging. They were the people they flew beside through life.

“Bloomin’ hell, River. That wasn’t long enough!” Trix whined. “Show it again.”

He met her glare with his own. “A few seconds is all she’ll get at the market. If she can’t manage this, there’s no point in her coming.”

The challenge was impossible, and deliberately so. The Shadow Market tolerated no weakness.

River watched his rainbow mouse, waiting to see if she’d scurry away, frightened like at their first meeting. Or would she show him more of that unexpected steel?

“You’re being dumb,” Ada snapped. “Seriously. Blake, you don’t have to do this.”

“Game on, mole,” Blake said to River, defiance sparking in her brown eyes as she extended her palm toward Ada. “Give me something to draw with.”

One minute later, she hunched over the bed, charcoal flying across paper.

River’s lungs seized at her almost perfect rendition of his tattoo. She’d even reconstructed missing pieces, intuitively adding lines that echoed the original pattern with eerie accuracy. Without a hint of shame, she tilted her head and asked if her guesswork was acceptable. She said it justfelt right.

A fragile feeling cracked inside his chest. She’d seen the broken parts of him and, instead of recoiling, tried to make him whole again.

Ash leaned close to inspect her work and then flashed his abs, where a complete Umbria family crest remained intact. “She’s good.”

“See?” Ada gestured triumphantly. “She’s quite capable of helping. It’s remarkable, really. And you both need to spend time together, so this is the perfect solution.”

River stared at Ada, suspicion prickling along his spine. Had Clarke put her up to this? These old-world women were dangerous when they banded together. It reminded him uncomfortably of his sisters back home. When his family met Blake, they’d circle her like a diamond.

Not that it was a bad thing. Fuck—he scrubbed his face. What was he thinking?

His gaze dropped to Trix’s hand as she rubbed her swollen belly, and he remembered the naked hope in Aeron’s eyes earlier. The elf king was ready to be a father. How could River deny him the chance to hear his child’s first cry?

Then, there was the sharp, possessive heat that flared internally at the thought of Blake anywhere except beside River. In his bed.

Fuck.

“I’m going to regret this.” He sighed and looked at the ceiling as if the Well might offer salvation. “It won’t work. You know it.”

“Maybe.” Ada’s voice softened. “But at least we can say we’ve tried everything before giving up. You understand that, don’t you?”

His gaze dropped. “Yeah. I do.”

Trix squealed, hands clapping with childish delight. For all of Ash’s aloofness, River knew the crow secretly yearned for a family. After escaping captivity, he’d spent years with River’skettle, who’d adopted him and embraced him as their own. It was the happiest River had ever seen him.

He met River’s eyes now, chin lifting imperceptibly. “I’ll tell them you’ll arrive with an outsider on horseback from Deyleese.”

The town lay half a day’s ride from the Southeast Murder’s settlement. Going on horseback with a human would excuse him for not flying in. Ash wasn’t just a friend, a brother; he was a Guardian. Precautions needed to be made to keep River’s weakness a secret.