His mouth dropped open. “How?”
She shrugged.
“Oh no, princess. You’re going to tell me everything.”
Gloriously naked and defiant to the core, she stopped and placed a hand on a cocked hip. The ocean hit her calves, but she appeared unaffected by the frigid water.
She shrugged again. “The ocean heals me.”
His brain misfired. “How?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has it always healed you?”
She hugged herself. “I’m not sure. I didn’t really go for lots of dips in the ocean with serious wounds. It’s been calling to me ever since I sustained injuries from our crossing, but I haven’t had a chance to go in until now.”
“When did you notice?”
She frowned.
“When did you notice or suspect the ocean healed you?”
Pain flashed across her gaze like lightning. He knew the answer before she spoke. Only one thing in her entire history made her look like that—as if she were about to faint, puke and wage a war at the same time.
One of her hands drifted up to the scar on her cheek. “Since the attack that killed my mother. I should’ve died in the ocean, but I didn’t.”
“Did the ocean carry you home, too?” That would be incredibly convenient right now.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I also don’t remember everything about that time. I get flashbacks and moments, but I’ve never been able to put the pieces together.”
The pain and loss on her face and in her voice stabbed at his heart. That was the most she’d ever shared with him about that time.
Guilt sucker-punched him. He hadn’t made an effort to find out what happened after she returned all those years ago. Instead, he’d avoided her, unsure of what to say or do. Unsure of whether her father truly was a traitor as his father suggested. And worse, his sister followed his lead, hurting Cora even more, though neither of them truly realized the extent of their actions.
Fuck. He was an asshole.
“I’m sorry I abandoned you all those years ago.”
She sniffed and looked away. Her arms tightened around her body.
He stepped into the ocean. When she didn’t say anything or move, he closed the distance, ignoring the bone-numbing water splashing against his boots and pants. He ran his hands down her arms, smoothing the tiny hairs that stood up from the chill.
“I won’t make that mistake again,” he said.
What the hell was coming over him? His father drilled him throughout his youth not to make promises, especially ones that would be hard or impossible to keep. As a king, his word meant his life and he had to weigh his words carefully, scrutinize his promises.
Never promise something you can’t deliver. Never make open or vague declarations. Keep your obligations minimal to maximize your options. His father’s teachings rang through his mind.
Ronin meant every word he spoke to Cora. Despite his father’s advice and a lifetime of programming, he spoke the words from his heart and didn’t regret a damn thing.
Cora snapped her head up, her gaze studying him. Her hard expression softened, replaced with understanding, and need—a desire so strong, it burned from the inside and nearly knocked him on his ass.
He cupped her face and kissed her. He let his lips and tongue tell her how much he wanted her. How much he needed her.
She moaned and melted to fit him. He loved how she did that. How she seemed to need every inch of her body in contact with his.
She tasted of surprise and desire. He gripped the back of her neck, snagged some of her wet hair and kept her trapped in his kiss—not that she tried to escape.
Cora responded with another moan and wicked flicks of her tongue.
He explored her body with his free hand, trailing the path of the water as he’d wanted to earlier. Cupping her full breast, he gently squeezed.
God, he wanted her.
He could spin her around, lay her down on the sand and be inside her, buried deep in less than a minute. He could bend her over the large dry log that had washed up on shore and take her from behind.
Cora pressed into his body, grinding herself against his erection. All thoughts and planning flew from his mind.
He nipped her bottom lip, trailed kisses along her jawline. He was ready to explode and he hadn’t explored nearly as much of her as he wanted.
She needed to pant and scream his name first. He wanted to give her more. Hell, he’d give her everything. She could ask for the entire kingdom right now and he’d say, “Yes.” Anything to keep her in his arms.
He’d already given her his heart. He just hadn’t realized it until now. Until the bearcat almost took everything away.
Ronin dragged his teeth along her shoulders. She responded by arching her back, exposing her chest to wordlessly ask for more. He trailed his hands from her waist to her back and leaned down.
A man cleared his throat.
Cora straightened. At the same time, he snapped his wings around her, hiding her naked body and protecting her at the same time, even though he already stood between her and the shore.
He growled over his shoulders. “What?”
“MAS trackers,” Phil said. “We took their scout out, but we need to move.”
“Give us a little warning next time instead of sneaking up.”
“And alert them of our location?” Phil scoffed. “Sure.”
“Do we have time for Cora to get dressed?” he asked.
“Yes. They haven’t picked up the trail or discovered the missing scout, yet.” He hesitated.
Why wasn’t he gone? “What?”
“We all saw how Cora dressed herself last time. Maybe you could help her?”
Cora cursed into his chest.
He ran his fingers up and down her back, caressing, but he couldn’t help the chuckle rumbling through his chest. He often replayed the memory of her trying to hop into her tight leather pants with wet legs and how her bare breasts had bounced.
A smile tugged at his lips. His erection pulsed, as if trying to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing. Thanks, cock. Like I could forget.
Cora giggled.
Giggled.
“Are you okay?”
Her gaze laughed up at him. “Just fine.”
“Go away so we can get ready,” he hissed over his shoulder.
Phil grunted and walked back into the forest.
Once Ronin was satisfied the other man was far enough away, he turned and headed for shore, making sure to keep his wings spread to provide a privacy screen for Cora.
“How’s your wing?” he asked.
“Healed.”
“So you could’ve dipped in the ocean and healed it at any time?”
“I think so. I never had the opportunity, though. The cave was too high up to risk diving in. and I was distracted from venturing into the ocean from the river bathing spot.”
And she didn’t trust him with the truth. Not then. But now?
They reached the shore and he held out her clothing. Fully healed, she didn’t need his help, so he stood and shielded her from the wind while she clambered into her clothes. “We need to take the stitches out.”
“I’ll take care of it.” She stepped out from behind his wings and faced him, straightened, her once open expression now closed off.
“This isn’t over, Cora,” he said.
She rocked back as if his proclamation surprised her and she didn’t believe him. Her scowl sent warmth spreading through his chest. He grinned, already forming a plan.
36
“Being brave isn’t the absence of fear. Being brave is having that fear but finding a way through it.”
Bear Grylls
Cora took a deep breath as the horses emerged from the forest and trotted into a field of tall wildflowers that bordered the entrance to the outpost. Once a majestic fort, Hadren’s Keep now stood in disrepair on the edge of the Outpost Access Point.
Stories from Cora’s childhood created a shroud of mystery around the keep with conflicting myths of its creation, numerous violent events, and gut-wrenching tales. Erected on the orders of King Hadren of Iom as a symbol of his authority and grandness, the keep later became his tomb. Hadren fled Calandria after a failed assassination attempt and his brother assumed the Iom throne in his absence. Unwilling to relinquish control without a fight, Hadren took out his anger on the nearby city of Zircaloy. Instead of commiserating or rallying behind him, the people turned against their once beloved king, stormed the keep and executed him.
Now, Cora and the king of the Eyrie were fleeing to Hadren’s Keep and the irony or at least the parallels between them and the keep’s past wasn’t lost on Cora.
They’d managed to evade the trackers and spent the last week completing the journey to the outpost. Ronin’s wing was almost healed, and he would only take another week or so to regain his strength.
Currently, Ronin’s furrowed brow said more than his silence. He was worried. If he didn’t make it home, his sister would have to take up the throne, if she hadn’t already done so. Maybe she held out hope he still lived, but they’d been away for so long. Instead, Sasha would assume the humans betrayed them and declare war. She was probably already planning an attack. Ronin’s cold and calculating sister at the helm of the Eyrie spelled disaster for everyone.
Cora shivered and studied the old stone keep that perched on the edge of a cliff. When Ronin’s father exiled her family here, they decided to look at it as a new beginning and make Hadren’s Keep their new home. Cora had been heartbroken, but she’d toured the grounds with a sense of adventure and romantic optimism.
The bees had buzzed around the thick bushes lining the base of the tower, drunk on honey, and covered in pollen dust. Waves had crashed against the exposed rocks at the keep’s base and the warm summer air had rustled the sweet leaves of the forest trees, bathing them in soft fragrance.
Their new home had carried fear and anxiety for the unknown, but excitement had also danced in young Cora’s belly—the butterflies of new adventures. At least at first.
She had played in these fields, running her hands through the flowers, and daydreaming about the day the handsome prince would realize his life was empty without her. She’d looked to the skies, longing to see him, longing to see anyone, but no one visited. They were outcasts and alone.
Instead of new adventures, death came for Cora’s family. Death and pain.
Run! Her mom’s final cry screeched through Cora’s memory.
She flinched.
“Are you okay?” Ronin asked.
He’d insisted on holding her every night since the bearcat attack and she’d become used to his touch, his strength. Dependent on it, even. Like a drug, she wanted his arms around her now—something, anything to chase away the resurfacing memories. God, she was so pathetic and didn’t want to change a thing.
She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched the bearcat claw necklace Karla made for her. They’d had to ditch the remaining portion of Bearcat meat, paws included, to avoid the scouts, but Karla had salvaged one of the claws. Strung on a thin strap of leather, the hunter had chucked the necklace on Cora’s lap one night when they sat around the fire.
“This is yours,” was all Karla had said.
Cora squeezed the three-inch long claw, feeling the bite of the tip in her palm. If she could survive a bearcat attack, she could do this.
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
“We can camp near the base,” he said. “We don’t need to go in. Phil and Karla can check it out and make it ready in case we need to go inside for protection.”
She shook her head. “I’m a little over sleeping on the ground, aren’t you?”
His gaze smouldered. “Oh, I don’t know. I enjoyed some aspects of it.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she looked away.
Seagulls squawked like sky rodents and circled the turrets lining the top of the tower. She used to love going up there—the view was amazing, and the wind would blast her hair from her face. Seagulls would circle, hoping for scraps, the birds in the forest chirped and sang with each sunrise and sunset, but it was the ocean below that mesmerized her. The churning, dark blue depths called to something deep in her chest, beckoning her to dive into the icy unknown.
Ever since she could remember, she’d felt the pull of the sea. When she’d asked her dad about it, he’d laughed it off as childish whimsy, then teenage daydreaming and finally adult delusion.
“All cormorants love the ocean, but it doesn’t call to us, Cora,” he’d say, usually right before patting her on the head and telling her to run along.
It was Mom’s face that gave it away—whatever it was. Mom would get that pinched look. When Cora first went to her, Mom appeared alarmed, then worried, then concerned…
Cora sighed.
And then she was gone. With Dad looking at her as if her brain got addled, and no one else to ask, she’d let the matter drop.
Here, though. Here, the ocean didn’t whisper or beckon or call. It demanded.
She gripped the reins and squeezed. “Let’s go. We need to secure the keep before nightfall.”
Ronin wisely shut his mouth and followed, his giant presence reassuring.
Phil and Karla watched the entire exchange with interest but didn’t comment or question. She liked that about them. They knew when to shut up. Usually.
They tethered the horses outside the keep. The others dismounted and unsheathed their weapons. She swung her leg over the saddle and Ronin whipped his head in her direction to snarl at her.
“I’m coming,” she said.
“No, you’re not.”
Cora swung her leg back over and sat on her stupid cow horse, who wasn’t nearly so stupid and most assuredly was not a cow. Phil told her the mare was a paint horse. What an absurd name. This mare had a botched paint job and needed an attitude adjustment. Karla had promised to take the horses back to Calandria with them and find them a good home. She patted the creature’s neck. She’d actually miss this stubborn beast.
She should’ve joined the others to secure the keep. Injuries no longer plagued her. The set of Ronin’s jaw told her arguing would be futile, though. After the bearcat attack, he was in full protector mode and a part of her loved it.
Gah!
That was so messed up.
The other part of her, the part that still had a brain capable of logic, knew Ronin was at the end of his rope. He cared for her and he’d watched her almost bleed out from extensive wounds. Fully assuming her request to visit the ocean was a dying request, he took her anyway. Instead of watching her die, he watched the ocean heal her. Instead of hammering her with questions, he’d accepted what she could offer at the moment. He was trying to be patient. So, as annoying as his overprotectiveness was, she stayed in the saddle. Not for herself, but for him.
She couldn’t have the king of the Eyrie collapsing in a panic or having a heart attack.
A chorus of birds singing drew her attention away from the keep. She turned in the saddle to survey the forest. The woods waited and watched a couple hundred feet away, the trees creaking from the wind flowing off the ocean, the grass and tall wildflowers swaying, the leaves rustling. The birds chirped at ease, completely ambivalent to the war of her emotions.
She closed her eyes and breathed in the sea foam and forest scents. The smell of sun-ripened berries and something floral clung to the air. There used to be blue lilacs that grew on the cliff side of the outpost. Maybe they were still there.
A heavy warm hand rested on her thigh.
“Ready?” Ronin asked.
She jumped in the saddle. If Ronin hadn’t held her leg down, she probably would’ve catapulted off the horse altogether.
His eyes narrowed.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she answered.
She swung her leg over the horse and dismounted. If she stayed outside, she’d have another night on t
he cold hard ground.
No, thank you.
Time to face her past.
She took a deep breath and stepped into Hadren’s Keep, no more than a rectangular building with a large tower jutting out of its centre. They said Hadren’s daughter jumped from the roof to her death when she realized her lover never intended to marry her.
Cora breathed in the stale air. The stone walls kept the atmosphere cool, even in the summer. There used to be a hint of wildflowers from the ones Mom used to bring in. That smell was gone, replaced with dirt.
She stepped farther into the room. The large fireplace was exactly how she remembered it. The patterned stonework surrounded the fire and travelled up the wall to each floor, carrying the heat and smoke within until it reached the chimney on the roof. In the winter, Dad would build a giant fire and the heat would move in scorching waves, almost blistering her skin when she walked past.
A layer of dust coated the floor, disrupted only in the paths the others took to clear the building. The base of the wooden staircase that curled up the tower still stood. The third step used to creak so badly, it sounded like someone groaned in pain. They probably all creaked now.
She headed over to find out.
Ronin grabbed her shoulder “Do you think it wise?”
She shrugged off his loose grip. “I think it’s inevitable.”
“Well, I think it’s downright confusing,” Karla said. “Will someone please fill us in? What’s up with Cora and this building?”
Apparently, the time to shut up had passed.
“What happened?” Phil asked, his tone surprisingly soft.
“My mother died here.”
37
“You’re my favourite place to go when my mind searches for peace.”
Unknown
Cora hadn’t ventured upstairs. The echoes of painful memories whispered from the stones and beckoned her forward, while the ocean outside called to her. And she yearned to reach over and touch the man sitting across from the fire.
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