A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(102)

“We’ve got to find Galen den’ Mora in the city,” Grae said with another kiss to my head. “Destiny awaits, little fox.”

“Destiny can wait one more hour,” I grumbled.

We’d barely slept. The night had stretched on oscillating between running in our Wolf forms and stopping for unbounded bursts of passion. We got closer and closer to the city through the night, but every time I thought it was sated, my desire would surge in me anew. Every time I shifted I wanted to be marked with Grae’s scent, claimed by him again. Grae learned every inch of my body just as I learned his—along with all the ways we could make each other come undone. We collapsed outside the city just before the dawn, the need for sleep finally demanding to be heard. I wasn’t sure if it was the newness or the excitement that my deepest wish had come to pass, but I seemed endlessly ready for him, even now in the quiet of the morning.

My hand traced idly up his bare thigh and his arm tightened around me.

“Calla,” he warned. “Hector will start looking for us soon.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and stayed my wandering hand. “Hector is probably all the way in the capital. He’d have a lot of woods to scour before finding us.”

Nothing held me back now—my fingers found Grae’s skin whenever they felt called to touch him. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to be touched, to feel his warm skin and soft kisses and whispered breaths, that buzzing sensation of skin against skin that slowed my pulse and calmed my mind.

“When will we be able to do this again?” My lips skimmed over the dusting of black hair on his chest.

“I don’t know,” he murmured as his hands circled my back. “But if it’s more than a day, I may combust.”

“Agreed,” I said with a breathy chuckle.

Grae gathered me to him, kissing the top of my head one more time. “It feels wrong to let you go.”

I tipped my head up and kissed him. “Then don’t let me go.”

Grae twisted to his side and my leg hitched higher over his hip. He let out a frustrated groan. “You are making it very hard to do the sensible thing right now, little fox.”

I brushed a lock of his black hair behind his ear. “Where are we going to find clothes?”

Our clothes from the day before were shredded to pieces and reeked of juvleck. We wouldn’t be turning back for them.

“Clearly you didn’t spend much time gallivanting off in your youth.” Grae’s cheeks dimpled. “Maez, Hector, Sadie, and I used to nick them from humans’ clotheslines. I’d send a bag of silver to whoever we stole from, but, yeah, we were wolflings then.”

“I’ve done that once,” I protested. “When I was running . . .”

The words died on my lips. When I was running from you.

“Ah yes.” Grae’s hand slowed its sweeping circles down my back. “We found your discarded clothes in the woods. When I realized you’d doubled back to lose us”—his hand stopped—“something broke in me. I knew then you weren’t just trying to get to Maez, you were trying to leave us behind, too.”

“I thought you’d drag me back to Highwick.” I settled my head back against his chest. “I thought a lot of things . . . that I was doing what was right for my pack. That Briar’s marriage was the only way to save Olmdere. That you were going to be with her.”

Grae’s chest vibrated below my cheek as he snarled. His voice was low and quiet. “I thought going along with the arrangement would keep you safe, both of you. But I never intended to be with her like that.”

His confessions in the snow flashed into my mind—about his childhood, about his mother. “I understand that now.”

“But you defied my father. You left even though you knew what it would cost you.” He sighed. “You’re braver than me, little fox.”

“Or more stubborn.”

“That too.” He chuckled, his hand resuming its circles down my spine. “I’m glad you ran. I’m glad you fought. You made me rise up to meet you and I’m stronger for it. I won’t tiptoe around my father and his tyranny anymore.”

“I know you won’t.” I stroked a hand down his stubbled jawline, gazing up into his eyes. “And I won’t let him hurt you, either.”

I watched the power of my words land as his eyes bracketed with pain. He needed to know it wasn’t his burden to carry alone. Just as he was determined to protect me, I’d protect him. That is who we’d be together.

“When we take Olmdere,” I said, “we’ll need to act quickly—send messengers and promise your father mountains of gold in exchange for Briar’s safe return. We can’t go back to Damrienn.”

“Agreed.”

“Like Queen Ingrid, I’ll take my parents’ throne, not through you, but of my own birthright.”

I knew Briar would be proud of me in that moment. She had never wanted to be Queen; she went along with it to protect us, to save our people. But she didn’t have to brave that title now. I would take that place and grant her the life she’d always wanted. I felt so certain of it now. I was the Marriel who was meant to rule.

“You will make a fierce and beautiful queen.” Grae brushed a soft kiss against my lips. “You are the ruler Olmdere needs.”