The light in her eyes shone brighter than the moon overhead.
Such light, and clarity, that he could only whisper, “Again.”
With a soft smile that Cassian had never seen before, standing on the moon-washed shores of the lake, Nesta began.
PART THREE
VALKYRIE
CHAPTER
51
“So you mean to tell me,” Emerie muttered from the side of her mouth as they stood in the training ring two days later, “that you got into a fight with your family, disappeared for a week with Cassian, and came back able to use an actual sword, but I’m supposed to believe you when you say nothing happened?”
Gwyn snickered, her attention fixed on tying a length of white silk ribbon to a wood beam jutting from the side of the pit. Neither the ribbon nor the beam had been there a week ago, and Nesta had no idea how they’d even anchored the wood into the stone, but there it was.
The crisp morning wind ruffled Nesta’s hair. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Tell me you at least had a week’s worth of sex,” Emerie muttered.
Nesta choked on a laugh as Cassian stiffened across the ring—but he didn’t turn. “There might have been some.” After that night beside the lake, she and Cassian had lingered there for two entire days, either training with his sword or fucking like animals on the shore, in the water, bent over a boulder as she moaned his name so loudly it echoed off the peaks around them. He’d taken her over and over, and she’d clawed at him and torn his skin every time, as if she could climb into him and fuse their souls.
They’d returned last night, and she’d been too tired to venture to his room. She assumed he’d been called to the river house, because he hadn’t been at dinner, nor had he sought her out.
She wasn’t ready to see Feyre, though. For all she’d confessed to Cassian, that step … She’d face it soon.
“Done,” Gwyn declared, the white ribbon fluttering in the wind where it hung from the beam. Behind them, a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about. The shadowsinger crossed his arms, angling his head, but remained in his half of the ring.
Cassian, however, approached Gwyn’s handiwork and ran the white silk between two fingers. Nesta couldn’t stop her blush.
He’d done that by the lake: after he’d fucked her with his fingers, he’d held her gaze while he rubbed them together, testing the slide of her wetness against his skin the same way he was touching that ribbon. From the way his hazel eyes darkened, she knew he was recalling the same.
But Cassian cleared his throat. “Explain,” he ordered Gwyn.
Gwyn squared her shoulders. “This is the Valkyrie test for whether your training is complete and you’re ready for battle: cut the ribbon in half.”
Emerie snorted. “What?”
But Cassian made a contemplative noise, gesturing to the other half of the ring. “Az told me you also started preliminary work with the steel blades while we were gone.” He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence. “So show me what you learned. Cut the ribbon in two.”
“We slice the ribbon in two,” Emerie asked Gwyn warily, “and our training is complete?”
Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, “I’m not entirely sure.”
Cassian released the ribbon. “A warrior’s training is never complete, but if you’re able to slice this ribbon in two—with one cut—then I’d say you can hold your own against most enemies. Even if you’ve only been training for a little while.” At their silence, he looked between them. “Who’s first?”
Again, the three of them swapped glances. Nesta frowned. Whoever went first would get the brunt of the humiliation. Gwyn shook her head. No way in hell.
Emerie’s mouth popped open. “Why me?” she demanded.
“What?” Cassian asked, and Nesta realized they hadn’t been speaking.
“You’re oldest,” Gwyn said, nudging Emerie toward the ribbon.
Emerie groused, but stepped up to the dangling ribbon, grudgingly taking the sword Cassian extended. Azriel murmured over a shoulder to the priestesses under his charge as they watched. They instantly began moving again. But Azriel’s attention remained on the ribbon.
“Should we bet?” Gwyn asked Nesta.
“Shut up,” Emerie hissed, though amusement lit her eyes.
Nesta smirked. “Go ahead, Emerie.”