Adrian did not leave me like that for long. He sat back on his cloak and dragged me onto my knees, his hands digging into my ass as he pulled me flush against his arousal. My breath caught in my throat, but Adrian gave me no time to exhale before he kissed me, devouring my mouth, while his hands moved between us. I shifted, rising until the crown of his cock was positioned within my heat. As I slid down upon him, a shuddering moan escaped my lips.
He wrapped his arms around me tight and helped me move.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, yes.”
I spoke frantic pleas as I inhaled and exhaled, uncaring that I could barely catch my breath, only chasing this dizzy and euphoric feeling. When I was too tired to move, Adrian leaned back, his hands sinking into the snow as he thrust inside me. At first I remained close, hands pressed against his chest, holding still as he moved, but then I pushed away from him so I could watch his face—his hard expression, his determined stare which only seemed to ignite me more.
I let my head fall back as release roared through me, and before I could come down, Adrian’s hands tangled into my hair and he kissed me hard as he came, his cock pulsing inside of me.
For a few moments, I stayed clenched around him, and in what remained of that breathless warmth, I asked for an oath.
“Anything for you,” he said.
“Promise me the world,” I said, breathing hard.
“It is yours,” he said.
***
We gathered lavender. It lay crushed beneath a layer of snow, but Adrian knew where to look, so familiar with the woods.
When we returned to Cel Ceredi, the pyre was lined with bodies wrapped in black cloth. While Adrian and I placed the lavender we had collected among the dead, a heaviness grew in my chest, collecting in the back of my throat.
I hated this.
I hated that I had not been able to protect more than myself in battle, hated that I had barely managed that. I hated that whoever had done this—whether Ravena or some strange change in Asha’s influence—only did so because Adrian and I ruled this land.
Perhaps Adrian was right about the benefit of my change.
When we had finished placing the lavender, Adrian took my hand, and we chose a place to stand before the macabre structure, with Daroc and Sorin on one side and Ana and Tanaka on the other. Killian, torch in hand, helped light the base of the pyre, which was packed with dried wood and hay. The fire caught easily and climbed, blazing viciously, and despite how far we stood from it, the heat still stung my skin.
I finally allowed myself to cry, and as the first tear trailed down my cheek, a woman began to wail. She was quiet at first, but soon she had the attention of everyone present, her cries so keen, they were impossible to ignore in the mournful night.
“This is the fault of our king,” she said, twisting to face us. She pointed a crooked finger at Adrian. “You have brought this terror upon us!”
My heart raced in my chest as she spoke. I looked up at Adrian whose jaw was set, eyes hard and angry.
“You,” she seethed, taking deliberate steps toward us—toward Adrian. “You will die by the hands of those you have murdered, and your queen—she will follow!”
I was surprised when Adrian stepped forward, drawing his sword, but the woman turned and ran into the fire. Her screams filled the air once more, guttural and violent, and as I watched her burn and her cries ceased, suffocated by the fire and the smoke, I wondered if her words were a threat or a prophecy.
Eight
Isolde
That night, I could not sleep, my mind racing with everything that had taken place in a matter of days. What stayed with me most were the words of the woman who had screamed her grief at us and how it had driven her to kill herself.
I had never watched anyone willingly burn, and perhaps it stayed with me so vividly because I had not had a choice in the way my life was taken. The more I thought about it, the more I recalled how the smoke had invaded my lungs and the feel of flames licking my skin. It was no wonder I had spent most of this life afraid of fire.
Restless, I rose from bed.
“Where are you going?” Adrian asked.
I looked at him, only able to make out the faint outline of his body in the dark.
“I cannot sleep,” I said.
“Stay with me,” he said, tugging me to him, and I relented, resting against him while he threaded his fingers through my hair. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
I was thinking of many things—of Ravena and the attack on Cel Ceredi. I was thinking about how I had shifted in the water on that cold night and had not felt inclined to do so since, but was worried about when it would happen again. I was thinking about High Council and how Razan seemed to hate me just as much as Gesalac and Julian. And I was thinking about my home, trying to nurse the ache in my chest over Nadia and worrying over the frenzy taking root among the people there.
“I am thinking about how I must return to Lara,” I answered finally.
Adrian did not speak, and I lifted my head to look at him, despite the dark.
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
It took him a moment to answer. “I am thinking about how I do not want you to go.”
“You know that is not an option,” I said.
“Send Killian,” he said.
“Killian is not their ruler,” I said, the burn of frustration heating my face.
“He is dispensable,” Adrian said. “You are not.”
His words shocked me, and I pushed away from him.
“He is not dispensable to me,” I said. “And how dare you speak so callously of a man who fought for your people and helped them rebuild their village.”
Adrian sighed and sat up.
“You are right,” he said. “He has acted nobly, but I do not see why we could not send him to Lara in your stead.”
“And I do not see why I cannot go.”
“You think it wise to return to Lara alone as my wife and give news of your father’s death? Your people will believe I killed him.”
“I will tell the truth.”
“Your father played the role of a doting father well. No one will believe you.”
My heart sank, hurt by his words, though I knew they were true.
“I have to go back,” I said again, defiant.
“I will not let you go without me, and as of this moment, I cannot leave Revekka.”
“I did not realize when I married you I would be required to always be at your side.”
“Required?” he countered. “Is it such a chore?”
“You know that is not what I mean,” I snapped.
“Then it seems we are both good at twisting words,” he said.
Silence stretched between us, and after a moment, I took a deep breath.
“Do you agree that I will have to return to Lara?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And if you come with me…when will we be able to return?”
“When I come with you,” he said, “it will be when we feel safe in our own country.”
I ground my teeth. I wanted to argue with him that Lara was my country too.
“And what about Nalani?”
I feared bringing up my mother’s island, but I needed to know he had a plan for them.
“Isolde—”
“Tell me they are part of your plan,” I said.