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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

“ C ome,” Cael said, gesturing to the plaid armchair in front of the lit fireplace in his bedroom.

Xenia limped toward him, her exhausted limbs spent, then sunk into the chair.

Cael stepped up behind her and ran his fingers through her hair, examining the lump. “What the fuck happened?”

Xenia choked back tears. “He was… he was in there waiting for me. As soon as I opened the door, he?—”

“It’s okay,” Cael whispered, placing ice cubes into a towel and holding the compress against the back of her head. She winced as it made contact with her scalp, and Cael ran soothing fingers down her neck. She didn’t know what helped more: the ice or Cael’s soft touch. “You don’t have to tell me the rest. I can guess. He’s done this before. He fixates.” Xenia looked up at him. “You’ll stay in here with me at night from now on.”

Joy frothed through her. But she schooled her features. Didn’t want Cael to know how much the thought delighted her. Despite how it had come about.

“Lock your door behind you every night, then use your cuff to come to my room,” Cael said, lifting her hand and putting it in place of his own to hold the ice-filled towel. “It’ll be safer for us to discuss our findings here every night instead of the stable loft. I can put a windshield on the door to make sure no one hears us.”

“Okay,” she said, with a nervous little giggle, looking down at her crumpled dress. “I don’t…I don’t have anything to sleep in though.” She cocked a playful eyebrow at him.

Cael laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll go back to your room and get your nightclothes and a clean pair of stockings. Were you able to eat anything or are you still hungry?” As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. “I’ll grab us some food as well. Let me borrow your cuff. I’ll lock your bedroom door behind me, then use it to come back here.”

Cael turned to leave, but Xenia grabbed his wrist, stroking her thumb across his racing pulse.

“Thank you,” she said, peering up at him. “You’re always saving me. I wish I wasn’t such a burden. That I was stronger. That I could?—”

“Hey.” Cael rounded the chair, then knelt at her feet. “None of that. There are many kinds of strength. Just because yours doesn’t come with a wicked right hook or the ability to summon the wind doesn’t make it less powerful. Your mind is your weapon, Xenia. You’ve used it to bring me to my knees a time or two, remember?” She blushed. “And I’m happy to be the brawn to your brains.”

She smiled. “Still, that was a tremendous risk you took for me. Exposing yourself to your brother.”

He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “Keeping you safe is never a risk. I feel half responsible for getting you into this mess in the first place.”

“Only half responsible?”

Cael smirked, then leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Wait here for me. And try not to make any more poor decisions while I’m gone.”

Xenia huffed. “ You’re a poor decision.”

Cael pulled back, sadness spearing through his eyes, as he muttered, “I know,” then turned away and left the room.

Xenia blew out a breath, wanting to shout after him that it was just a stupid joke.

He wasn’t a poor decision.

He was the best one she’d ever made.

One she’d keep making forever.

If only he’d let her.

“It was the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen,” Cael said to Xenia, who was seated in the armchair across from him and munching on a slice of roast chicken.

Well, second most.

A profound sense of peace settled upon him as he trailed his gaze over her halo of golden curls, the chunky knit blanket wrapped around her delicate shoulders, the smooth skin of her thighs above her wool stockings.

Those fucking stockings.

“I can’t even imagine,” Xenia said around a bite. “But it sounds completely barbaric, what your father has done to her. Keeping a creature like that locked up, only allowing her out to fly for a short time each day.”

“I need to figure out how my father forged his bond with her. How he not only used her for the war, but how he’s managed to keep her captive. She doesn’t even try to escape when they let her out to fly. As if her spirit is that broken. I’m going back in a few days to observe her for a longer period of time. It was… It was strange. While I was there, I said something to her in my mind and I could’ve sworn she heard me. I want to try again.”

Xenia’s lips thinned. “What do the Teles Chrysos have planned for her?”

“As far as they’ve told me, they’ll be using her against Eamon. Flying her to Delos to take the Imperial capital.”

Xenia scoffed. “So she’ll be just another weapon again? Same story, different masters?”

“ I will be her master,” Cael said softly, and Xenia’s brows rose. “It’ll be a stipulation of my helping them. That I’ll be responsible for her care and that she’ll only be used when I allow it. At least until I can figure out how to free her from the bond altogether.”

“Why, Cael Zephyrus, are you telling me that you want to try to heal a broken thing?”

Cael scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to hide his grin. “Someone is wearing me down.”

The smile she aimed at him stole his breath. He buckled beneath its force, changing the subject. “What did you learn in the library today?”

She placed her plate on the table, then plucked up the glass of Nephian red he’d brought up with her meal. She swirled the glass, the liquid casting ruby shadows across her collarbone.

“It was all fascinating .” Her emerald eyes glittered with excited curiosity. He knew reading, consuming new knowledge, was her favorite thing in the world. If there was a happily ever after waiting for them, he’d get her a house and fill every room with books. Well, every room besides the bedroom.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting his pants and trying to stop his natural pessimism from crushing his fragile dreams. For a future where he’d be lucky enough to bed this gorgeous woman every night.

“How much do you know about how your father came to be the High Councilor of Brachos?” she asked.

Cael picked at the fabric on his armrest. “Not much. In case you haven’t noticed, my father’s not really one for friendly family chats around the dinner table.”

Xenia snorted. “There’s a whole section of that library dedicated to his rise to power. What the territory was like before the Empire. You were never even the tiniest bit curious?”

Cael shrugged. “Reading’s not my thing.”

Xenia playfully slapped her forehead. “Right! You’re more into brooding and fighting and fucking.”

The word fucking falling from those lips had his pants growing tighter.

Her gaze darted to his lap, as if she knew. Little tease. “Well, good thing you’ve got me to do your research for you.”

“Delegation is the key to any successful venture,” Cael crooned.

Xenia let out a breathy little laugh that wrapped delicate fingers around his heart before she plowed forward. “Before your father was declared High Councilor of Brachos, the land was ruled by disparate clans of Fae—some Beastrunners, some Deathstalkers, some Windriders—each led by their own warrior-king. The clan that controlled Typhon Mountain and the surrounding hills were called the Cynn Drakan. Their leader was a Windrider male named Aedelmar Burkhardt. They worshiped the mountain itself, which, according to them, was the most powerful source of divine magic on Ethyrios. They made sacrifices to the fire and the resulting Typhon steel was seen as a gift from their gods by way of the dragon.”

Cael jolted. “I thought my family invented that steel. At least, that’s what Arran has always claimed.”

Xenia shook her head. “It was the Cynn Drakan. In the century preceding the war, when Leonin Erabis was campaigning to solidify his power, he tasked your father with uniting the clans in the northwest corner of the continent. Leonin wanted Arran to consolidate them into a single territory, hold dominion over it in the name of his burgeoning Empire. Most of the clans went along with it, didn’t want to risk slaughter by Arran and his Imperial-backed forces. But the Cynn Drakan held out. They were a proud, militant people, and they clung to their land fiercely.”

Cael grunted. Of course, Arran had never told him any of this.

Xenia continued, “Arran was relentless. Fought the Cynn Drakan for years. Not only for his precious Empire, but because Leonin had promised that if Arran could defeat them, he could take control of the mountain and oversee the booming Typhon steel business. Reap its profits.”

“ That certainly sounds like my father,” he grumbled.

“But in order to do so, he’d need to defeat the Cynn Drakan and gain control over the dragon. Leonin gave your father that flute, claimed he could use it to summon the dragon away from the Cynn Drakan.” Xenia rubbed at her nose. “But the flute can’t be the only part of the equation. If it was, your father never would have sold it.”

Cael jerked upright. “He sold it?”

Xenia nodded, thinning her lips. “To a billionaire in the Northern Territories named Jurgev Otto. About three centuries after the war. Arran’s weapons business was bleeding drachas at the time and he needed the infusion of capital to stay afloat.”

Cael raked a hand through his ash-brown waves. “Still… To give up an object like that? He’s either extremely short-sighted or extremely greedy.” He sat back. “Scratch that. My father is both of those things.”

Xenia tapped a finger against her lips. “There’s got to be some other piece we’re still missing. How did your father defeat Aedelmar Burkhardt and capture the dragon? How did he wipe the Cynn Drakan from the face of Ethyrios?”

He looked at Xenia. Really looked at her. High Gods, her intelligence was such a fucking turn-on. If he’d been the one researching, he was sure he never would have pieced together a tenth of this information.

How different would her life have been if Leonin Erabis had never come into power, hadn’t started his war against the humans? Xenia would never have been taken from her parents. Would never have been forced into servitude with the Shrouded Sisters.

Would never have even met him.

He used to think that she’d be better off, but now…

He rested his forearms on his knees, clasping his hands between them. “Keep searching. There’s got to be more in there about my father’s time with the dragon during the war. How he commanded her. How he forced her to obey him. How I might be able to break their bond. And have you found anything about the tracking device?”

Xenia shook her head, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. “Might be faster if I had some help? Why don’t you join me? We were pretty good research partners in the Temple library.”

He dipped his chin, frowning. “I’ll try. But it would look suspicious if I started spending hours a day in the library. I’m still needed for wedding preparations and I’m going to use the excuse of overseeing weapons production to travel to the mountain as often as possible.”

Xenia lifted a nonchalant shoulder, but he could tell she was disappointed.

He rose from his chair, then plucked the wineglass from her fingers and placed it on the table. He reached out a hand. “It’s late. And we’ve both got a lot of work to do these next weeks.”

She placed her small, soft hand in his, and his blood sang at the contact. She shot him a coquetteish smile. “And where will I be sleeping?”

He took the blanket from her shoulders, then draped it over the back of the chair. “You take the floor. I don’t like sharing a bed.” Xenia laughed and smacked him on the thigh. “With me, Blondie,” he said, guiding her toward the bed.

Always with me.

He wasn’t ready to give voice to that fledgling wish yet.

Xenia nestled under his blankets, propping herself against the pillows and staring at him as he stripped down to his underwear. He was a hot sleeper, never slept in anything but underwear.

“You’re so beautiful, Cael,” she breathed out, as if the words had been ripped from her involuntarily.

It had been a very long time, maybe his entire life even, since Cael had blushed. But heat rose to his cheeks. To other places as well.

This was probably a bad idea.

“Even though I’m a little lopsided?” Though his words were teasing, pain simmered beneath them. The adoring look on her face eased it slightly.

“Even more so.” She smiled, patting the bed beside her.

He climbed in, then turned toward her and adjusted his wing over the side of the mattress.

He ran a hand down her cheek, toying with her curls. “No funny business.”

She rolled her eyes. “You really know how to kill a mood, pterodactyl.”

He laughed, low and sultry, and she ran a foot along his shin beneath the covers. “I wasn’t aware I was creating a mood in the first place.”

“You always are,” she murmured, pressing her cheek into his hand.

“How have you been sleeping?”

Xenia sighed, her soft, sweet breath kissing his lips. “Terribly. You know how much I hate sleeping alone.”

“I know, Zee,” he whispered. “I’ll fix it.”

He pulled her into him, wanting to explore her so fucking badly he could barely think straight. He wanted to run his tongue and teeth along every inch of her golden skin. Wanted to bury his hands in her hair, between her legs. Wanted to hear those soul-shattering noises she made when she came, the soundtrack to his very best dreams.

But she’d had a terrifying encounter tonight. He would never use her the way his brother had. A different kind of comfort was in order.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his breath stirring her curls against his neck.

“For what?”

“For seeing me for the fool that I was.” He kissed the top of her head. “For getting off that boat.”

She nestled in closer. “We escape together or not at all, remember?”