“He runs his realm as a democracy. Everyone has a say. It’s foolish.”
Isla’s brows came together. “That doesn’t sound foolish to me.”
Before Azul’s speech was over, he led them toward where the balloons were taking off. There was an entire field of them, all painted slightly differently. All magnificent.
“Choose,” he said.
Isla frowned. “I don’t think we can choose, and I think there’s a line—”
He followed her line of sight, to the one she thought was the prettiest. It looked like a light-blue egg, with a white swirl in the center.
In less than a moment, they were standing in its carriage. Somehow, he was starting it up. And then they were flying.
Isla gasped, watching the ground suddenly push away from them, and she stepped back. Right into Grim’s chest.
He looped an arm around her waist, tethering her. It made her feel safer. Grim—for as much as he had claimed he had no interest in riding in the hot-air balloon—was peering over the edge, watching the newland with interest. Isla looked too, but she suddenly felt afraid.
“I don’t think I like heights,” she said. Her stomach shifted uncomfortably. Her heart was in her throat.
Grim made a calming noise that couldn’t have possibly come from him. He leaned his head down, so his chin rested where her crown would have been if she had worn it. “I can portal us anywhere, remember?” he said.
It did make her feel better. She took a step toward the edge and leaned over, just a little. The world was beautiful. It was mountainous and wide, and she felt suddenly free. For nearly half an hour, they just watched the world in comfortable silence.
As she moved back again, her foot knocked against something she hadn’t noticed before. It must have been included in each of the carriages for the night. A bottle, with transparent liquid filled with bubbles. Water?
“Skyling wine,” he said, frowning. “Disgusting.”
Isla uncorked the bottle and tentatively sipped it. She grinned. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
Grim sighed.
It was sweet, and sparkling on her tongue, and—
Grim plucked the bottle out of her hands after her second sip. “You might want to wait a little while before drinking more,” he said. “Unless you don’t want to remember the night.” He offered her the bottle, letting it be her choice.
She shook her head. No. She didn’t want that at all. She wanted to remember all of this.
Isla turned to face Grim and tilted her head.
“Can I say something honest?”
He looked taken aback. Nodded.
“You are the most unpleasant person I’ve ever met.”
Grim raised an eyebrow at her. “And you are the bane of my existence.”
She took a step toward him. “I was disappointed when I didn’t kill you.”
Grim ran his hand up her thigh, taking her dress with him. She bristled at the cold, at the fact that soon, if he continued, anyone around would be able to see her undergarments . . . but they were in the sky. The next balloon was yards away. “And I’m disappointed you haven’t tried again.”
His hand curled around her waist. His lips traced her neck. Her back arched, and she moaned as he began kissing her across the glitter on her shoulders, her chest, as he started licking it. “I don’t think it’s edible,” she said.
“I don’t care.”
And then she was kissing him. Their lips crushed together, and his hands were instantly everywhere. He swept his tongue into her mouth, and she groaned. With one rough motion, Grim lifted her into the air, then placed her on the edge of the basket. Isla’s eyes flew open, wind dancing behind her back, roaring in her ears.
“Relax, Hearteater,” he said, and his breathing was uneven. Her legs widened, and he settled between them. His hand gripped beneath her knee, and she wanted more, more—
“Portal me to my room,” she said.
Grim pressed her fully against his chest—and pushed her over the edge.
Before she could scream, the world tilted, and she landed on Grim. He was on her bed. She was straddling him.
A thousand violent words in her throat, but all of them withered and died when she felt him—every inch of him—against her. Her hips rocked back and forth, ever so slightly, and the friction made her head fall back, her shoulders hike up.
Grim laughed darkly beneath her. “The sight of you, on me . . .” He stopped her, with two hands curved under her backside. He lifted her off him.
She was desperate for his touch, aching—
He gently set her down next to him. He seemed faintly amused by her bewilderment.
“Not tonight, Hearteater,” he said, tucking hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear. “Sleep.”
Isla was flushed with need, with want—
He was too.
Grim chuckled into the darkness. He pulled her toward him, tucking her into his side. “Remember to dream of me,” he said lightly, and she wondered if he knew how often she did.
BEFORE
They stood just out of view of the cave.
“Are you ready?” Grim said.
“Yes. Are you?”
He nodded. While she trained, he had researched the dragon. He had a plan for distracting it.
All Isla had to do was make sure she made it through the trials and to the sword without dying. She crept silently toward the entrance of the cave. The dragon was curled, asleep. She waited, at the edge, for Grim to wake it.
There was a noise outside. The dragon opened an eye and roared.
A massive leg peeked out first. She didn’t even look at Grim or what he was doing. She focused on the thin sliver of opening the dragon offered.
Another leg.
Then the dragon shot out of the cave like a strike of lightning.
Now, her mind said, and she leaped into the cave.
First, the arrows. The ones that had wounded Grim in a dozen places. As soon as she triggered the trap, she moved, hurtling for the opposite side. She watched arrows pierce the ground, exactly where she had been.
Isla swallowed. So close. No time for fear. The dragon was still distracted, but who knew how long it would take for it to realize it was being tricked?
Boulders fell from above, and Isla rolled out of their path. A thousand shards of ice were next, too many to miss, so she lifted the metal shield she had brought with her over her head. It made a torrential sound, and Isla winced, knowing the dragon would hear it.
Faster. She had to be faster. As she hunched over, waiting out the last of the hail, she locked eyes with the sword.
It was sitting in a pile of spoils. Just one of hundreds of relics. She didn’t even look at any of the rest; she just focused on the blade, shining, as if winking hello.
Only a few more steps.
Isla leaped to the side, just missing a hidden pile of spikes.
A spear flew, aimed at her side, but she was faster. She ducked, missing it.
Just two more steps.
A foot before the pile, a tunnel of wind suddenly burst through the cave, a storm blasting. That, she could not duck to avoid. She faced it, full-on, shield in front of her, jaw clamped tight, fighting against its current, barely making it an inch forward. Another inch. She gritted her teeth, groaned, fought forward—
Until it stopped, and she went tumbling. The sword was in her reach.