Page 44

44

Rhea

E veryone goes to the tavern. Noticing my distress, Phoebe offered to stay with me, but I convinced her to go. I try to sleep, but I’m restless, so I put my boots back on and stroll around the courtyard, conflicting emotions warring inside my chest.

Just yesterday, as I received my wings, I thought I was on top of the world. And now… everything seems lackluster and frail.

I recline against a wall under the shadow of a wide column. A disturbing silence reigns. It makes my ears ring. Sending out a gentle breeze with a wave of my hand, I make the leaves of a lonely young tree rustle in a far corner. The sounds ease the ringing, so I keep the breeze steady and close my eyes. The image of my mother’s garden appears unbidden before my eyes. Her voice echoes in my mind as she sings a melody under her breath, tending each plant with care.

A door closes. My eyes snap open.

Voices sound on the other side of the courtyard. I recognize Vaylen’s but not the other one. Slowly, I peel away from the wall and hide behind the column. I know I’m spying, and it feels cheap, but I can’t help myself.

I hone in on their barely audible conversation.

“I will,” he says.

“Do you promise?” It’s a female voice, and as my sight adjusts, I recognize Eleonora Nightsong.

“I’ll be there, El,” he insists. “I just need to discuss a couple of things with the Commander. Go. I’ll see you there.”

Eleonora—El as he familiarly called her—leaves, and Vaylen goes back into the room they just exited.

The same jealousy I felt earlier returns. I hate the burning feeling in my chest, the anger that so readily jumps to the surface. I meld back into the shadows and wait. Thirty minutes later, Vaylen reappears and heads in the direction Eleonora went.

I follow him from a distance. He leaves the compound and heads down the hill, his steps hurried. The edge of the city is just there, at the foot of the hill. I don’t try to think of where he’s going, I just follow him. A line of small, flimsy-looking buildings marks the west end of Cinderhold. Vaylen marches down a dirt path and enters what must be the tavern everyone’s been talking about. The sound of music and raucous voices drifting from the place cues me in.

See, it’s nothing nefarious, Rhea. Go back to the barracks .

My feet don’t listen to my brain, however. Instead, I approach the window and peer inside. The small tavern is packed with Skyriders. Vaylen weaves through the crowded tables toward the back. Eleonora is there, beaming at the sight of her Prime. She jumps to her feet and places a hand on his arm to guide him to an empty chair I’ve no doubt she saved for him. The desire to scratch her eyes out assaults me. Vaylen sits, blue eyes scanning the room.

Dakar, who’s also there, orders a tankard for Vaylen. They drink and talk. I recline against the window frame.

He’s doing nothing wrong. He’s only having a drink with his closest mates.

I shake my head, chiding my stupidity. Vaylen owes me nothing. We’ve just… made a couple of mistakes together. That’s all.

Ten minutes pass. I grow bored and consider leaving, but something stops me. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something going on between Vaylen and Eleonora, and whether or not Vaylen owes me anything, I need to know.

He throws his head back, drinks deeply, and slams the tankard on the table. In one fluid motion, he stands, says something to his friends, and leaves through a hall that must lead to the back of the building.

A short moment later, Eleonora leaves the table and follows.

Bile rises up my throat. I take several steps away from the window, a knot made of anger tight in my throat. I stand frozen for several minutes, my fists clenched, my mind rifling through possible scenarios and arriving at one conclusion.

Stifling the desire to scream, I whirl on my heel and head back to the barracks, hands in my pockets, eyes locked on my boots as they crunch gravel.

Stupid Rhea. You fell prey to the Prime who likely sleeps with all his recruits. You thought you were special, but of course you’re not.

I reach the open courtyard and hurry across it toward my barracks.

He hides behind his fake honor and propriety, just a shield to keep his conquests from pushing him to ? —

Someone grabs me from behind, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing a hand against my mouth. They pull me under the shadow of a recessed door.

I start to fight back when he says, “Shh, it’s me.”

Vaylen!

I detangle myself and whirl.

He’s smiling ear to ear, looking amused. “I went looking for you at the tavern, but you weren’t there.”

My mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

He frowns. “Is something wrong?”

I shake my head.

His frown persists. He doesn’t believe me. “Why didn’t you go celebrate?”

“I wasn’t in the mood.”

He wasn’t there for her. I hate the relief that washes over me as much as I hate the jealousy.

“I’m glad because this is better.” He leans in, taking my face in his hands. “I couldn’t have done this.” His lips tenderly brush mine. He pulls back, drinking me in, his large pupils rimmed by a thin line of pure blue. “I would have been content to only see you. That’s all I was hoping for at the end of this horrible day. Instead…” He kisses me again, this time deeper, his arms pulling me against his hard body.

I melt into him, let my fingers trail up from his shoulders to the back of his neck. He groans and pushes me against the recessed wall, growing hard as he kisses my neck and fondles my breasts.

“I want you, Rhealyn,” he growls in my ear, making me instantly wet. “I want to bury my mouth between your folds and lap away until you scream. I miss your taste.”

Oh, Goddess! I’m nothing but clay in his hands. How did I go from boiling anger to this?

Panting, I push him away. “Someone will see us.”

His chest pumps up and down as warring emotions shape his expression. At last, he reins himself in and says, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Am I the only one?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

His brows knit together. “What… are you asking me?”

“Never mind.”

I turn to leave, but he cages me by bracing both hands against the wall behind me. “Do you want to know if I’m sleeping with someone else? Or is this your way of asking for exclusivity?” His lips are tipped into a slight smirk that makes me want to rip it off his face.

Shrugging, I lie, “Neither.” A pause while I use all the cockiness I can muster to shape my features. “It’s really my way of asking if you would be mad if I slept with someone else?”

“What?!” he growls.

Mission accomplished… smirk ripped off his face.

“Hmm, I guess that answers my question.”

“Don’t toy with me, Rhealyn. I’d kill anyone who touches you. You’re mine.”

I tilt my head to one side. “Don’t I have a say?”

He retreats, straightening to his full height and becoming a looming, aloof creature. “Is there someone else you want besides me?”

Too late I realize I tread over extremely dangerous territory. He’s possessive, but he’s also proud, and he won’t stoop for anyone who doesn’t want him. Vaylen wasn’t going after Eleonora. He was going after me because he wants me . After tonight and that look in his eyes, I’ll never doubt that.

But what about me? Do I want him and only him? The answer manifests itself as naturally as flowers bloom.

I take a step forward and coax one of his clenched fists open. “There’s no one else, Vaylen Everett Stormsong. And in all honesty, the question was, indeed, my way of asking for exclusivity.” A shameless lie. “I don’t want you touching or kissing anyone else. The thought makes my blood boil.” An absolute truth.

With a strong tug, he pulls me against him. “It seems we’re of one mind, Rhealyn Rose Wyndward. The thought of anyone but me touching you or kissing you makes my blood boil, too.”

I frown. “I never told you my middle name.”

He chuckles. “I’ve read your Academy file a dozen times. From the night of the Rite of Flight, I made it my purpose to learn everything about you.” He looks into my eyes in a way I’m afraid to describe. Tenderly caressing my cheek, he adds, “Please be careful, Rhealyn.”

I frown. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Just promise me not to do anything reckless.”

“Reckless? Me?”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Only my mouth is reckless… and big, but I doubt the Screechclaws will care about that.”

“Please, I’m serious. Just promise me.”

He’s truly worried for some reason. Perhaps because he knows how awful things can be here, and I don’t. I caress his face back. “All right, I promise.”

He smiles, then his lips crash into mine, possessive and hungry, causing my back to arch like a bow with the force of his taut passion. He could break me, and I would die a happy woman.