When the council meeting was over, Luton did his best not to look at his father, who had been watching him so carefully while he’d announced his plans to the king, or at Christopher, whose sense of betrayal rippled off of him as the meeting went on. He tried to hurry back to the barracks, but he wasn’t all that surprised when a hand clapped on his shoulder and turned him around.“Mandy?” Christopher snarled.Luton kept his face blank. “If she’s capable of opening a portal like He did last night, then I think He needs to get out of the castle for a while. For all of our sakes.” Christopher couldn’t know the truth.“She’ll never forgive you for having her shipped off like that, to take down a whole country. And in such a public way—making a spectacle out of it. Are you mad?”“I don’t need her forgiveness. And I don’t want to worry about her letting in a horde of otherwordly creatures just because she’s missing her friend.”He hated each lie that came out of his mouth, but Christopher dr
The docks were crowded with sailors and slaves and workers loading and unloading cargo. The day was warm and breezy, the first hint of spring in the air, and the sky was cloudless. A good day for sailing.Christopher stood before the ship that would carry her through the first leg of the journey. It would sail to a prearranged location where a ship from Mandy would meet it to take aboard refugees fleeing the shadow of Adarlan’s empire. Most of the women traveling on her ship were already belowdecks. He shiftedthe fingers of her bandaged left hand, wincing at the dull pain radiating outward from her palm.He had hardly slept that night, holding Fleetfoot close to her instead. Saying good-bye an hour ago had been like ripping out a piece of her heart, but the dog’s leg was still too injured for her to risk the journey to Mandy .He hadn’t wanted to see Luton , hadn’t bothered saying good-bye, because He had so many questions for him that it was easier not to ask at all. Hadn’t he known
For a heartbeat, there was only the warmth of Christopher’s mouth, the press of his body, the stiffness in his every trembling muscle as Nesta slanted her lips over his, rising onto her toes.She’d kissed him with her eyes open, so she could see precisely how his own widened.Nesta pulled away a moment later and found his eyes still wide, his breathing harsh.She laughed softly, making to unhook her fingers from his jacket and strut down the hall.She only got as far as lowering her right hand before he surged forward to kiss her back.The force of that kiss knocked them toward the wall, the stone slamming into her shoulders as all of him lined up against all of her, a hand sliding into her hair while the other gripped her hip.The moment Nesta hit that wall, the moment Christopher enveloped her, it destroyed any illusion of restraint. She opened her mouth, and his tongue swept in, the kiss punishing and savage.And the taste of him, like snow-kissed wind and crackling embers— She moa
Christopher couldn’t look Mia in the face at breakfast the next morning.His brother had returned late last night, refused to say anything about what he’d found regarding Briallyn, and only insisted that today they’d all meet at the river house and learn of it together. Christopher hadn’t cared. He’d barely listened to Mia asking about training.He’d come in his pants after a few touches from Nesta, soaking himself like he was no better than he’d been in his youth.But the moment she had kissed him in the hall, he’d lost all semblance of sanity. He’d turned into something just short of an animal, licking and biting at her neck, unable to think clearly beyond the base instinct to claim.The taste of her had been like fire and steel and a winter sunrise. That had just been her mouth, her neck. If he got his tongue between her legs … He shifted in his seat.“Did something happen that I, as your chaperone, should know about?” Mia’s dry question dragged Christopher from his rising arousal.
“Do you think Mia can find the Trove?” Azriel asked Christopher as they relaxed in the sitting room that separated their bedchambers, flames crackling in the hearth before them. The night had turned chill enough that they needed the fire, and Christopher , who’d always loved fall despite the pricks in the Autumn Court, savored the warmth.“I hope so,” Christopher hedged. He couldn’t stomach the thought of Mia putting herself in danger, but he understood her motivations entirely. If he’d had to pick between sending one of his brothers into danger or doing it himself, he would always—always—choose himself. Though he’d winced at every harsh word that had come out of Mia ’s mouth to Elain, he couldn’t fault the fear and love behind her decision. Could only admire that she had stepped up—if not for the good of the world, then to keep her sister safe.Azriel said, “Mia really should do a scrying.”Christopher gazed across the space between their two armchairs. They’d sat in them, before thi
Curled up in bed, a book propped on the thick down comforter, Mia was just getting to the sizzling first kiss in her latest novel when a knock thudded on her door.She slammed the book shut and sat up against the pillows. “Yes?”The handle turned, and there he was.Christopher still wore his leathers, the overlapping scales of them full of shadows that made him look like some great, writhing beast as he shut the door.He leaned against the carved oak, his wings rising high above his head like twin mountain peaks.“What?” She slid the book onto the nightstand, sitting up further. His eyes dipped to her sleeveless silk nightgown, then quickly returned to her face. “What?” she demanded again, angling her head. Her unbound hair slid over a shoulder, and she saw him mark that, too.His voice was rough as he said, “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”She always wore it braided across her head or pinned up. She frowned at the locks that flowed to her waist, the gold amongst the brown g
Five days later, Christopher sat before the desk of the library’s high priestess and watched her enchanted pen move. He’d met Virgil a few times over the centuries—found she had a dry, wicked sense of humor and a soothing presence. He’d made a point not to stare at her hands, or at the face he’d only seen once, when Mor had brought her in so long ago. It had been so battered and bloody it hadn’t looked like a face at all.He had no idea how it had healed beneath the hood. If Madja had been able to save it in a way she hadn’t been able to save Virgil ’s hands. He supposed it didn’t matter what she looked like, not when she had accomplished and built so much with Rhys and Mor within this library. A sanctuary for females who’d endured such unspeakable horrors that he was always happy to carry out justice on their behalf.His mother had needed a place like this. But Rhys had established it long after she’d left this world. He wondered if Azriel’s mother had ever considered coming here, or
Hoping Virgil wouldn’t come shove him over the railing for disobeying her orders, he said, “All right. Throw the right hook.”Mia did so. And dropped her damn elbow.“Get back into position.” She did, and he asked, “May I?”Mia nodded, and kept perfectly still as he made minute adjustments to the angle of her arm. “Punch again. Slowly.”She heeded him, and his hand wrapped around her elbow as it began to dip. “See? Keep this up.” He maneuvered her arm back into starting position. “Don’t forget to flow the weight through your hips.” He took her arm, keeping a good foot of distance between their bodies, and moved it through the punch. “Like this.”“All right.” Mia reset herself, and he took a step away. Without his order, she did the punch again. Perfectly.Christopher whistled.“Do that with more force and you’ll shatter a male’s jaw,” he said with a crooked grin. “Give me a combination one-two, then four-five-three, then one-one-two.”Mia ’s brows bunched as she reset herself. Her fee