Page 76 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

Wren

‘The deepest silence falls just before the world tears itself apart, where fate balances on the edge of a blade, choosing which way to fall’

– Elwren Embervale’s notes and observations

‘W HAT ?’ T HEA ALMOST upturned the table.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Wilder said, looking from Wren to Kipp and crossing his arms over his chest. ‘There’s got to be another option.’

Only Torj was silent. Only Torj understood.

Wren’s hand slid to his beneath the table, finding his palm cold and clammy against hers.

Kipp forged on. ‘By the time we leave this room, you’ll already have several offers. I know of four that were in discussion shortly after the last war. Queen Reyna has a nephew that she’ll no doubt put forwards. Lady Liora has a son.’

‘King Leiko will no doubt offer his own hand,’ Thea said with disgust.

‘I suspect so as well,’ Kipp agreed with a grim nod. ‘But I want to propose an alternative...’

Wren was rigid in her chair, her heart pounding against her ribs, her grip on Torj’s hand tightening. ‘Go on.’

It was the first time Kipp had looked uncomfortable, and he grimaced as he glanced between Wren and her Bear Slayer. ‘Prince Zavier.’

‘What?’ Wren blurted.

Kipp gave her an apologetic look. ‘You’re friends. He’s already taken back a working kingdom. Although Naarva was a fallen kingdom before, its absence from the last war means it’s in better shape than the rest in terms of its infrastructure...’

Wren shook her head. ‘Zavier would never agree to this.’

‘He already has,’ Kipp said. ‘Were he not currently in the infirmary, he’d tell you himself. The advantage here is that he knows you and Torj—’

Torj stiffened beside Wren, but Kipp forged on.

‘Zavier has agreed to marry in name only. You can lead separate lives. A marriage of alliance in the truest sense. He doesn’t have much in the way of gold or defence forces, but the union of two royal families will carry a lot of weight with the people.’

‘I can’t believe we’re talking about this,’ Thea muttered, her head falling into her hands.

Nor could Wren. She had known it wouldn’t be easy. She had known she would have to sacrifice part of herself. Her place at Drevenor. Her dream of becoming a Master Alchemist. She had given those up in the name of the greater good. But this?

‘I need to speak to Torj alone,’ she heard herself say.

The others didn’t need telling twice. Thea, Wilder, and Kipp all hurried to their feet, the door clicking closed behind them.

Wren rose, turning the lock before she faced the Bear Slayer. ‘Look at me,’ she said softly.

When Torj’s eyes met hers, Wren’s resolve nearly fractured, for the deep-sea blue that locked on her was full of understanding, full of determination.

‘I meant what I said before,’ he told her. ‘I’m with you no matter what, Embers. With you ’til the very end.’

‘Even through this?’ Wren’s voice broke.

Torj’s words were raw as he stood, closing the gap between them and taking her in his arms. ‘Through anything.’

‘This wasn’t the future I imagined for us,’ she whispered.

‘Nor I... I wanted you to be free,’ he murmured. ‘But if it’s the price of peace in the midrealms...’

‘Then we have to pay it,’ Wren finished for him.

Torj swept his thumb along her jaw and tilted her chin to his. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

Wren didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly she was wrapped around Torj, her mouth fused to his in a searing kiss.

He carried her to the ladder against the shelf and slid her onto a rung to free his hands.

His touch was a brand on her skin, and she memorized every brush of his fingertips, every imprint of him upon her, every sound that broke from his lips.

She kissed him as though he were the answer to every question she’d ever had, trailing her hands over the hard planes of his body, committing every rippling muscle to memory.

Torj’s belt buckle clicked open, and Wren tugged the laces of his leathers apart. ‘I need you.’

His teeth dragged down the column of her throat, his fists bunching her skirts at her hips. ‘I’m yours,’ he growled against her skin.

With fumbling, shaking hands, Wren reached between them. She pulled her undergarments to the side and fitted him to her entrance, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Tears she refused to shed when she had her soul-bonded here and now.

‘Prove it, Bear Slayer. Fuck me like I’m yours. Fuck me so I feel you for days.’

Torj’s gaze met hers, dark and unyielding. He clapped a hand over her mouth before he drove deep inside her. His palm smothered her scream, her whole body arching beneath his.

Wren held the rails of the ladder either side of her, clamping her legs around Torj’s middle as he fucked her hard and fast. She could feel her back bruising against the rungs of the rattling ladder, but she didn’t care.

All she cared about was the man hitting that sensitive spot deep inside her, the man who had become everything to her.

Torj’s lips scorched hers, setting fire to all her senses, coaxing ripples of longing to spread down her spine and right to her core. His body slapped against hers as he thrust inside, again and again, his rhythm punishing.

Heat flared between Wren’s thighs as his pelvis hit her clit. She tilted her hips towards him, and Torj’s cock sank even deeper inside her.

A low, rumbling sound of need escaped him, and Wren clapped her own hand over his mouth, his stubble prickling her palm. The sound of his desire, his desperation, lit an inferno inside her, and she held on to the ladder for dear life with her other hand as Torj’s resolve shattered.

With each other’s palms muffling their moans, they climbed the peak together, Wren clenching around Torj’s cock as he fucked her harder than he ever had. He released her mouth only to reach between them, pinching her clit between his fingers—

Wren bit down on his shoulder as her climax barrelled into her. Stars erupted through her entire being, wave after wave crashing around Torj’s relentless strokes.

‘Wren,’ he groaned, tensing over her, sinking deep inside her, his cock pulsing as his own orgasm hit and he spilled his release.

Wren blinked the room back into focus, panting as she locked eyes with the Warsword between her legs.

A thread of gold shone between them.

Tell me this isn’t goodbye. Torj’s voice echoed in her mind as the soul bond danced between them.

I could never tell you goodbye.

Wren’s nape prickled, the glimmering gold vanishing.

A second later, a key turned in the door’s lock.

Wren and Torj fumbled—

But the door opened.

Lord Lucian Devereux slipped inside the room, his gaze falling to where Wren’s naked legs were wrapped around the Bear Slayer, her skirts barely covering where they were still joined.

Wren’s face burned as Torj yanked her skirts down around them, slipping from her and turning his back to the Lord of Larkwood Valley to fix himself.

But the damage was done.

The nobleman studied her with a curled lip. ‘Princess Elwren,’ he tutted. ‘Found rutting with another man while her hand in marriage is being discussed in the very same building...’

‘It’s Queen Elwren,’ Torj growled.

‘She’s not queen until she is crowned, and a lot can happen between now and then.’

Wren’s skin crawled. Lucian Devereux was holding himself like a snake coiled and waiting to strike.

‘That door was locked,’ she said slowly, stepping down from the ladder, adjusting her undergarments and skirts and trying not to crumple in shame.

‘Gold and silver are powerful motivators,’ he replied. ‘I had a key made the moment I got here.’

‘What do you want?’ Torj demanded, standing protectively at Wren’s side.

Lucian gave the warrior an icy glare. ‘To speak with the heir alone.’

‘Not going to happen.’

But Wren’s skin was prickling, her lightning flickering in her veins in warning. ‘Torj...’ she said softly.

He turned to her. Don’t ask me to leave you.

Never for long, my love. Wren kept her mask in place. ‘I need you to find Kipp and bring him to me.’

Torj’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘I—’

‘Her first royal command,’ the nobleman said dryly. ‘You’d better run along, boy.’

Wren saw the Warsword’s fists clench at his sides and she placed a hand on his arm. ‘Please.’

Torj’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he strode to the door and left. When it swung closed behind him, Wren turned her attention back to Lucian and folded her arms over her chest.

‘You realize how reckless your little dalliance is?’ he sneered. ‘No one wants a princess broken in by a Warsword.’

Wren hated that she flinched at the coarse words. ‘Why are you here? What do you want?’

‘Surely you can guess, Elwren. Aren’t you meant to be a promising student? One of the brightest within your rank?’

Wren’s magic grew hot beneath her skin. ‘Why would I give you anything?’

‘Because,’ Lucian said, his voice dripping slow and steady as poison, ‘I have the thing you need most in the world.’

Alone in the private study room, the walls began to close in.

Wren fought to keep her breathing even, ground her teeth to keep the flashbacks and panic at bay.

Everything had changed. Whichever way she studied her position, she was trapped, with Lucian Devereux’s words echoing in her mind, a drum beating a death-march rhythm.

All that she’d imagined for herself, for Torj, evaporated, leaving the fates before them dark.

Wren had to brace herself against the table to keep her knees from buckling, had to grip the edge to anchor herself to the present.

I have the thing you need most in the world. The thing she hadn’t even known she needed.

A knock sounded at the door, startling her. ‘Wren?’ Kipp called from the other side.

Trying to hide the tremor in her hands, Wren opened the door and greeted both Kipp and Torj, who were peering at her expectantly. Torj scanned the room behind her, his jaw clenched.

But Wren stopped him from entering. ‘I need to speak with Kipp alone.’

Torj’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘What did that bastard say to you?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said. ‘Can you please wait outside?’

Torj looked like he was going to argue, and Wren hated herself for it, but there was nothing to be done.

When at last Wren was alone with Kipp, she told him everything.

Her friend listened carefully, never interrupting, waiting patiently as she gathered herself between breaths, passing her his kerchief when her tears tracked down her face.

And when she finished, he straightened in his chair. ‘Let me get this straight...’ he said slowly. ‘You’re asking me to put aside my personal concern for your happiness and wellbeing?’

‘Yes. I need an army. I need funding. I need resources. I need time .’

‘And you want me to strategize as though this is some cold, unfeeling decision?’ he asked, peering into her face as though searching for signs of madness.

‘No,’ Wren told him. ‘I want you to strategize like this is war.’