Page 42 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

“Cayden,” I whisper, realization washing over me.

“Cayden? Why would they be calling for Cayden?”

Saskia doesn’t know Cayden’s parentage. “His father was from the southern isles. Cayden may not have royal blood, but he’s the only king alive with their blood.”

“That’s perfect!” She abruptly smacks her hands against the table, and clumps of brown sugar fly through the air as I squeal. “It strengthens your claim. Why hasn’t he brought this up?”

Cayden hates his father—that’s abundantly clear. He probably doesn’t want anything to do with him, even if it makes his life easier now. He’d view it as a favor from him. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.”

“I guessed he was part southerner years ago, and he lied.” She scoffs. “He probably didn’t want Ryder and me to have another win against him after Ryder figured out his birthday.”

“How did Ryder manage that?”

She laughs while glancing out the window to the snowy forest. “He wished Cayden a happy birthday every day until he pissed Cayden off enough to reveal it.”

I laugh softly, but it’s weighed down by insecurity. “When is his birthday?”

“The ninth of November.” It passed weeks ago.

We would’ve been in Imirath on that date…

but I didn’t even know. The lump in my throat doesn’t disappear when I swallow.

It stays lodged there like a rock. The rolling pin clatters on the ground, the abrupt noise causing Saskia to jerk her head. “El? What’s wrong?”

“I just wasn’t expecting to know him on the date you said.”

“He hates his birthday anyway. Don’t feel bad.”

I shake my head, dusting the rolling pin off with my apron and setting it on the counter as Saskia steps toward me. “We’re getting married, and I didn’t even know that about him. It’s something so basic.”

Saskia reads my emotions easily. “Have you talked to him about what you’re feeling? It’s all right to be nervous.”

We start out in life completely defenseless, but time draws its blades against us, and only those who don armor live to fight another battle. “Think about how many people get married and then wake up one day and don’t recognize the person they’ve bound their life to.”

I don’t know why my mind works the way it does, making the words I hear become twisted like prickly brambles in a dark forest. My emotions battle with logic, but there’s never a winner, rendering my thoughts a wasteland of casualties.

I don’t want to second-guess Cayden, but I feel like it’s my last defense against him.

“I’m fine,” I assure her quickly while removing the raspberry tarts from the oven, not wanting to truly dissect my fears. “Maybe I had sex with him on his birthday and unknowingly gave him the best present he ever received.”

“I think you might’ve made his life.” I throw a pinch of flour at her, and it paints her dark cheeks that get rounder as she laughs.

“He’s not like everyone else. I told Cayden he should marry you to solidify the alliance before I met you, and he was adamantly against it.

He said he would never subject himself to the hell of marriage.

” I flinch before I can stop myself. “The man you know is someone nobody has ever met, not even me or Ryder. He broke the Dasterian line not because he wanted the crown, but because he was terrified of losing you. There is darkness in Cayden, and it’s made so many people run from him, but I’ve always thought that was why he was running to you all his life. You’re his light.”

I press my lips together, dragging my pendant along its chain. “You truly mean that?”

“I know it.” She squeezes my wrist before letting go and stealing a tart from where they’re cooling.

“When are yours and Ryder’s?” I ask, not wanting to miss anyone else’s. Finnian’s is the fourteenth of July, and we always do something to celebrate, same with mine.

Saskia’s eyes soften. “I’m the fourth of September and Ryder is the tenth of December. Yours?”

“The fifteenth of January.”

Her smile widens. “I’ll start planning.”

We pass our time in comfortable silence, and I realize how nice it is to be with someone without having to be present the entire time.

I lose myself in the recipes—kneading dough, sprinkling powdered sugar, making icing.

Not stopping until the counters are covered in various baked goods and heavy footsteps pound down the hall.

“You owe me a debt, angel.” Cayden’s deep voice echoes through the corridor, and my stupid, hopeless heart kicks in my chest at the sound of it.

“You must be thinking of someone else,” I say. “I owe you nothing.”

Cayden steps around the corner, filling the doorway with his large frame clad in his familiar black tunic and loose pants with a sword strapped across his back…but it’s what’s on top of his clothes that makes the tin slip from my fingers and clatter loudly on the counter. “I’ve come to collect.”

He lunges for me, and by reflex, I sprint around the island, but it only seems to encourage him. My tongue feels like dead weight in my mouth while I blink slowly. Not truly absorbing the sight in front of me. I must be dreaming. “Oh, my gods.”

“You don’t remember,” he says the words like he’s accusing me of a crime. “During your first dinner in Vareveth you told me you’d kiss me if I wore the pinkest and frilliest apron.”

Laughter bubbles in my throat, spilling out of me until my stomach hurts. “How the hells do you remember that?”

“I remember everything about you.” He curls his finger toward him. “Pay up, princess.”

I scrunch up my nose, keeping the island between us as I slowly move in time with him, wanting to force him to catch me. “Are you that desperate?”

“Determined.” He lunges around the counter, and I yelp while quickly rounding the corner to keep him across from me. His green eyes scan the full counters piled high with cinnamon rolls, honey buns, bread loaves, and the raspberry tarts. “Are you baking for the entire army?”

“Aestilian,” I correct. “I wanted to make something for the children before the war takes me away.”

He lifts a brow. “I don’t think any of this will make it farther than the front door.”

“Not even for children?”

“I was a child once.”

I throw my apron at his face and book it for the door, pumping my arms as my legs carry me down the hall.

My heart thunders in my chest as Cayden’s long strides soon catch up with me and he grabs me around the waist, spinning me in his arms before pressing my back into the wall.

His heart beats in time with mine, slamming against his rib cage as he pulls me flush against him.

“Easy, demon,” I whisper, pressing my fingers into his mouth hovering inches from mine. It’s a punishment for myself as well as him, but his determination is addictive.

“You are playing a very dangerous game, angel,” he states in a low tone.

“That is the best kind.” I love having this power over him and adore making him ache for me. He drops his forehead to mine and looks at me with so much yearning that I can feel it like a tether between us. “I think pink is your color.”

“Don’t get used to it.” His gaze remains locked on my lips like they’re the only thing he can see as he removes the pink fabric. “I have something for you. Are you almost done?”

“Fuck me, this is good,” Ryder groans from the kitchen, and I push away from Cayden and run back from where I came, finding Ryder at the small breakfast nook by the window with a plate piled high. “Elowen, if it doesn’t work out between you and Cayden then I’m—”

“Sas, grab your letters,” Cayden warns. Water flies over my shoulder, drenching Ryder and his ample pickings. Cayden loudly tosses the bucket that I was using to wash dishes to the floor. “I’ve been meaning to get that leak checked.”

I cover my mouth with my hand to try to suppress my laughter while Ryder sputters and wipes his eyes and Saskia clings to the wall like a lifeline. “That was highly uncalled for!”

“What did you think was going to happen after you said that?” Finnian manages to ask through his boisterous laughs. “He’s threatened people for looking at her.”

“Not that!” Ryder shouts.

Cayden shrugs, unlatching the window and tossing a honey bun to Delmira. My heart tightens in my chest, knowing that years ago he watched me do the same thing. I throw a cloak around my shoulders before putting my boots on.

Cayden shoves a honey bun into his mouth as he waits and grabs a cinnamon roll for the brief walk outside.

The wind slams into my face as he unlatches the wooden door, carrying away the flour and sugar speckling my cheeks.

My boots sink into the snow when I stop dead in my tracks, spotting a quiver filled with arrows and an array of red targets in the distance.

“I told you I hate shooting with a bow.”

“Which is why I brought you something different,” he replies, pressing a hand into my back to keep me walking, and plucks a sleek, polished weapon from the table he must’ve set up. “A crossbow.”

I take it from his hands, surprised by how much it weighs, and envy Cayden for how effortless he makes it look to hold this thing. “I’ve never used one of these.”

“You have this wonderful thing called a husband who is well-versed in many weapons.” I roll my eyes, not bothering to correct him again—it won’t get through his thick skull.

He pulls my back to his front, covering his hands with mine to show me how to properly hold the weapon.

“Remember that if your eye ever wanders.” He kisses my cheek.

“Now, you’re going to keep this finger on the trigger and aim at eye level.

It’s best to keep both eyes open to get an accurate shot. ”

He keeps his lips close to my ear, maneuvering the crossbow into the correct position and pressing down on my finger, letting the arrow fly and absorbing the kickback as it hits the center of the target.

He releases me to grab an arrow from the quiver lodged in the snow and twirls it in his fingers as he shows me how to reload it.

“Is this why you couldn’t sleep last night?

Were you thinking about me fighting the wyverns? ”

His lips remain shut, and his face gives nothing away as he juts his chin toward the target. I roll my neck, keeping my feet shoulder width apart and taking the shot. The arrow zings through the air, landing several inches away from the center.

“When you’re using it in a battle, you’ll feel when the aim is right.

The more you use it the easier it’ll become.

” He moves behind me again, correcting my stance with his arms wrapped around me.

He fires again, splitting the previous arrow he shot down the middle when the other lands in the same place.

I lower the crossbow, tilting my head back as he straightens to his full height.

“Show every bastard on that field what you can do, El. Show them what it means to be your enemy.”

“There’s something you need to know,” I say.

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t release me.

It’s better he hears this from my lips. “There are revolts in the southern isles. The people are calling for the rightful king. You’re the only ruler in Ravaryn with the blood of the southern isles with a claim to the Imirath throne. I think they’re calling for you.”

His eyes narrow as he runs his tongue over his teeth. “Okay.”

I drop the crossbow to my side, turning to face him as he twirls one of my curls around his finger. “Okay?”

He shrugs. “Imirath soldiers knew who I was when my father entered me in fights, and he had the deep tan complexion of most people in the southern isles, same as me. I don’t have any royal blood, so if they’re calling for a bastard to be their king then so be it.”

“You’re not bothered?”

“Of course I’m bothered,” he says. “I don’t want a damn thing from that man.

” He grabs the crossbow from my hand and points it at the farthest target that’s no more than a speck in the distance.

“But this will gain us an advantage because if they’re calling for me, they’re calling for you.

It further weakens Garrick if people in his territory are calling for a bastard and a displaced heir to take his throne.

Let them scream our names loud enough to reach Garrick in the tallest tower of his castle as an omen of what’s coming. ”

He pulls the trigger, hitting the target dead center.