She knew the shift had happened, because it hurt like hell. A flash of blinding pain as her features ripped free of the hold that hid them. The man lunged, and she plummeted into the well of power that was suddenly overflowing inside of her.Magic, savage and unforgiving, erupted out of her, punching into the creature and sending it flying. Flame—years ago, her power had always manifested as some form of fire.She could smell everything, see everything. Her heightened senses pulled her attention every which way, telling her that this world was wrong, and she needed to get out now.But she wouldn’t get out, not until Benjamin and Fleetfoot made it to safety.The creature stopped rolling, on its feet in an instant, and Matilda put herself between it and Chaol. The man sniffed at her, sinking onto its haunches.She lifted Damaris and bellowed her challenge.From far off in the mist, roars answered. One of them came from the thing in front of her.She looked at Chaol, still crouched ov
When Matilda finished telling Leonard the story she’d told Chaol—albeit a much more limited version—he let out a long sigh and fell back onto his bed. “It sounds like something out of a book,” he said, staring at the ceiling. She sat down on the other side of the bed.“Believe me, I thought I was going mad for a while.”“So you actually opened a portal to another world? Using these Morse code s?” She nodded. “You also knocked that creature aside like it was a leaf caught in a wind.” Oh, she hadn’t forgotten about that. Not for one moment had sheforgotten what it meant for him to have such raw power.“That was dumb luck.” She watched him, this kind, clever prince of hers. “I still can’t control it.”“In the tomb,” she said, “there is someone who might … offer you some advice on how to control it. Who might have some information about the kind of power you’ve inherited.” Right then, though, she didn’t exactly know how to explain Mort to him, so she just said, “Someday soon, you and I
For a heartbeat, there was only the warmth of Leonard ’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 Leonard 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 moaned, u
Leonard couldn’t look Matilda 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. Leonard hadn’t cared. He’d barely listened to Matilda 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?” Matilda ’s dry question dragged Leonard from his rising ar
“Do you think Matilda can find the Trove?” Azriel asked Leonard 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 Leonard , who’d always loved fall despite the pricks in the Autumn Court, savored the warmth.“I hope so,” Leonard hedged. He couldn’t stomach the thought of Matilda 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 Matilda ’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, “Matilda really should do a scrying.”Leonard gazed across the space between their two armchairs. They’d sat in them, befo
Curled up in bed, a book propped on the thick down comforter, Matilda 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.Leonard 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
Five days later, Leonard sat before the desk of the library’s high priestess and watched her enchanted pen move. He’d met Clotho 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 Clotho’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 if
Hoping Clotho wouldn’t come shove him over the railing for disobeying her orders, he said, “All right. Throw the right hook.”Matilda did so. And dropped her damn elbow.“Get back into position.” She did, and he asked, “May I?”Matilda 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.” Matilda reset herself, and he took a step away. Without his order, she did the punch again. Perfectly.Leonard 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.”Matilda ’s brows bunched as she reset