But I didn’t need my father’s advice anymore. My strike was quick and true, piercing cartilage, sliding right into his heart.
Too late, the memory hit me—of the way that this same blade had felt sliding into Raihn’s chest. That rust-red stare, urging me on.
End it, princess.
I snapped my eyes open, forced myself to replace Raihn’s face with this one. This person who deserved it. Uncomplicated. Easy.
I yanked my blade free. The vampire started to slide down the rock.
But I couldn’t stop myself before I stabbed again. Again. Again.
And finally, when the vampire’s chest was little more than pulp, I let the body slump to the ground.
I stared down at him, my shoulders heaving. His chest was a mess of broken flesh. For some reason, I thought of Evelaena’s scar, and how she might have looked lying on her bedroom floor, blood all over her chest, too.
“She got away.”
Raihn’s voice startled me. He’d flown up and perched atop the ruins. He nodded toward the lake. The human woman now wandered back down the path, bucket balanced against her hip, seemingly oblivious to how close she had just come to death.
I glanced down at the dead body. Another starving beast raised to see humans as nothing more than something to use. Another animal who was only a tool to those above him. On, and on, and on.
The futility of it was, all at once, dizzying.
“I feel like you usually take much more joy in this,” Raihn said.
“Just needed to be done,” I said, sheathing my weapon. “So we did it.”
“You did it. I watched.”
I glanced at him, and he smiled. “Enjoyed the view.”
I turned away and didn’t say anything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his face fall.
I started to walk back to the path we’d taken, but he lingered behind. He tilted his head back, squinting into the distance. Then he pointed.
“Let’s go up there.”
I followed his gaze, to the spires of ruined towers that loomed over us.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because look at it. Must be a hell of a view.”
I squinted up at it. He was, I had to admit, probably right. He didn’t give me a chance to argue with him, anyway, before he extended his hand again.
I really did think about arguing. But curiosity got the better of me.
So, I took his hand, and let him pick me up again.
Immediately, I regretted that decision. This—flying with him—never stopped being awkward. I had to work very hard at not noticing the way his arms folded around me, how close they pulled me, how a tiny primal part of me enjoyed the warmth of his skin. And I had to work especially hard at ignoring the reassuring sweep of his thumb over my lower back, and the way it made it so hard not to think of this version of Raihn as the man I had allowed into my bed, and my body, and even, perhaps, my heart.
Our eyes found each other’s briefly, the moonlight cold over the warmth in his rust-red irises, before I looked away.
With several powerful pumps of his wings, we launched into the air. My uncomfortable feelings about our closeness dissolved when I looked up to see the stars growing closer above us, as if wrapping us in an embrace.
It was like a drug, that feeling. Made it so easy to let go of all the complicated things I’d left on the ground.
Raihn picked up speed as we rose, and we approached the top of the tower with such incredible swiftness that I had no idea how he was going to make that landing.
A second later, I realized: he wasn’t.
He flew straight past the tower. Higher than its tallest rocky peak. Higher than the next, and the next. Moisture clung to my cheeks, the air damp and cold. The moon, a cloud-coated, pregnant gibbous, felt so close I could caress it.
“Look down.”
Raihn’s breath was warm on my ear.
I did.
The sea spread out before us, an endless expanse of rippling glass. Behind, the landscape of Lahor, tragic and beautiful in its disrepair, the ugly reality we had been walking through invisible from up here. Even Evelaena’s castle was so small from this distance, just a little child’s collection of bricks. Beyond Lahor, the deserts of the House of Night rolled endlessly on, smatterings of lights glowing in the far distance, consumed by the foggy mist.
My eyes stung—maybe with wind, maybe not.
Peaceful.
I hadn’t meant to speak aloud.
Raihn murmured, “It is.”
He hovered here, holding me tight. It was cold this high up, but I didn’t feel it. Perhaps I should have been afraid that nothing but his grip was keeping me from death. I wasn’t.