What?
She pushed back and he let go. They spread their wings, caught the updraft, and rose once again to the clouds.
“Have you lost your mind?” she shrieked.
Instead of answering, he swooped in again, gathering her in his arms. His gaze, cast in shadows, met hers, emotion flashing like a thunderstorm. His hold tightened, one hand travelling up her back while the other drifted down to grip her butt. “Definitely.”
He kissed her again, hard and full of need. Her belly flipped as the air whooshed by and they plummeted toward the land. She pushed against his chest again and he released her. She flapped her wings, regained altitude, and gaped at him.
The eagle’s plunge. Cartwheeling.
“What are you doing?”
He barred his teeth and growled “You know exactly what I’m doing, what this is.”
He shot forward to grab her again, but she backed up.
“No!” she gasped.
“No?” He looked incredulous. “Why the hell not?”
“You’re the heir…you’re the king.”
“Exactly. I’ll do as I want, and I want you.”
“And that will last two hours once we’re back at the Eyrie.”
“Do you think that little of me? That I would abandon you and what we have? Would I be cartwheeling with a fling?”
“No. I don’t think that little of you, but I think a lot of the system of entrenched bias and expectations. It made your father turn his back on his best friend. Instead of exonerating my father, he banished him and probably patted himself on the back because he avoided having to execute his best fucking friend. My father did everything for yours. He was loyal to a fault. And look what that got him. Look at how well your father got to do what he wanted.”
Ronin scowled. “This isn’t about our fathers. It’s about us.”
“There can’t be an ‘us.’ Even if you don’t leave me, you’ll end up resenting me. I can’t do it. I can’t…”
Ronin barked out a laugh. “I won’t resent you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I love you.”
She continued to flap her wings to maintain her position. Ronin did the same. He raised an eyebrow, mocking, daring her to argue.
Her heart fluttered like a wild thunderbird.
Why shouldn’t she be with him? Why shouldn’t she take a chance and trust her heart? Because he’d break it? Wasn’t her heart already breaking?
She’d been broken before and learned how to put herself back together again. She could do this. She deserved this.
“Fine,” she said.
“Fine?” He folded his arms, hovering in the air. “That’s how you’re going to respond to my declaration of love?”
“Take it or leave it.”
Mischief flashed in his gaze. He unfolded his arms and leaned forward.
Uh-oh.
He licked his lips and smiled again. “I’m definitely going to take.”
“Typical.”
He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest this time. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Anticipation clenched her stomach and squeezed the air from her lungs.
“I’m more of a giver than a taker,” Ronin purred. “But I’ll make an exception if that’s what you need.”
She needed him inside her. Heat drenched her body. Yet, she hovered a few feet away, remaining distant, deciding how to respond. Instead of running, instead of squealing and making him give chase like they were teenagers all over again, instead of using an excuse to diffuse the emotionally charged moment, Cora beat her wings once and drifted into Ronin’s open arms. She pulled her wings in, letting him hold her aloft. The wind played with her hair and bursts of air brushed her skin with each pump of Ronin’s wings. She tilted her head up. The tension around Ronin’s eyes eased away. Mischief still sparkled in his gaze—surprise, too—but this tenderness he showed her stole her breath away.
“I need to hear you say it,” he said.
“Why?”
“Please?”
“Ronin, I’ve loved you since the day you punched Jerome in the sack for calling me ugly.”
He sighed and pulled her into his body. “Ready?”
“Try not to hurt yourself.”
The cartwheeling didn’t last long.
Cora followed Ronin around the cliff face while Hadren’s Keep loomed over them from the ledge. They’d found a few caves and alcoves during their daily explorations, some she remembered from her past, some new. Which one was Ronin leading her to now? Did he even know?
Instead of a cave or a bedroom, Ronin took her to a private nook farther from the point. Still at the edge of the cliff and sheltered by the trees, the flat clearing was covered with dense moss.
When had Ronin found this place?
The moment her feet touched down in front of Ronin, he took her chin in his hand and lifted. Gaze searching hers, he studied her, letting the stillness fall over them like the moonlight from overhead.
She had so many questions, so many things to say, to doubt, but none of those things mattered. Not anymore.
Ronin leaned down, bringing his lips to hers. They’d kissed before—passionate kisses, tender kisses, kisses filled with need.
This kiss, though.
This kiss had everything rolled into one, with love woven in. As easy and simple as breathing, this kiss stole her will to breathe, to care about anything other than the feel and taste of Ronin. He was her drug and she was getting her fix.
More, please.
He might break her heart, they might die on the journey home, his sister might execute her…none of those things mattered. Not right now.
He lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his torso, latching onto him like a limpet.
Hers.
The king of the Eyrie was hers.
They tumbled to the ground, the thick moss cushioning their fall. Cora landed on top of Ronin. When he winced, she pulled away. “Your wing?”
“It’s fine.”
“But—”
“If you stop right now, I’ll die.” He claimed her mouth again.
She laughed against his lips. If he wasn’t hurt, she had other things to worry about—mainly how to get him out of those clothes. She pulled at his vest, unlatching the buckles, and pulling down the zipper. Once open, she slid her hands along his smooth skin.
More. She needed more.
She kissed his jaw and tugged at his belt. When it pulled free from the loopholes, she chucked it away. The leather belt flopped into the moss.
Ronin lifted his hips, pressing his erection into her. She ground against him, still wanting more, delighting in the sound of Ronin’s growl.
Without warning, Ronin rolled them to their sides. He wrenched her bodice, ripping it apart. Her breasts spilled out, free, heavy and in need of his touch.
“My shirt!”
“It was ruined anyway,” he murmured against her breast before taking her nipple into his mouth.
Goddammit.
His hands explored her body, rough, almost harsh, his patience shattered. He roamed her skin with his hot mouth and Cora drowned in a torrent of sensations. A few more touches, a stroke, a lick, and she’d come undone. She was so close.
“Please,” she said. More.
Still on his side, Ronin looked up from between her thighs. He’d moved there seamlessly, hooking one of her legs around his shoulders to continue his assault, to make her writhe with need, to make her beg.
He licked his lips. “Should I stop?”
“Don’t you dare.” Her whole body ached. Why was he tormenting her?
He licked the inside of her thigh and moved his wicked mouth back up her body. She nearly screamed in frustration.
When he claimed her mouth again, she held on and rolled them, pulling Ronin on top of her, pinning her wings beneath her body, offering herself to him.
Ronin’s gaze went wild.
He pressed the head of his shaft into her, slowly,
letting her feel every inch of him until she was full, too full, until no space existed between them. There was no Cora or Ronin. Just them. Joined. Connected.
Part of Cora ached to flip him over and torture him with slow undulating movement, teasing and frustrating him as he had done to her before, riding him into oblivion. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. She needed him now and she was done with flirting and teasing.
Ronin growled into her neck. He pulled in and out, most likely planning to torment her more, but something snapped.
Probably the same thing that snapped inside her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “More. Harder.”
Ronin growled again, gaze wild. He took her fast and hard, thrusting deep and driving her into the moss and to the point of delirious madness. He gripped her shoulders and slammed into her, again and again, the pace brutal, the sensations exquisite. Cora loved every second of it. He pumped into her until they both roared from the intense release and came undone.
40
“There’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it’s sent away.”
Sarah Kay
Ronin let the wind wash over him. Even at this altitude, the air held a little sea spray from the waves crashing against the rocky shore below
Cora stood beside him, pensive, tense. She’d rather stay in the place her mother died than return home. She didn’t need to speak the words, but he knew she was worried things would change when they touched down in the Eyrie. She’d never say it, of course. Not now. Not after what they shared. He knew her logic well. In Cora’s mind, she’d already explained her concerns and continuing to voice those concerns held no added value. But she wore her emotions on her face and after spending the last two weeks savouring every inch of her body and studying every nuance of her expression, he read her like a book.
He didn’t want to leave, either. Not because he was worried about what he or she would do once they returned, but because he knew duty would call and he’d have to spend some of his day doing work. So would Cora. And the idea of sharing her with trips across the channel without him created a hollow feeling in his gut—like someone had reached in, grabbed everything, and pulled it out.
He tightened his grip on her hand. They’d been gone for over a month. His sister probably thought he was dead. He needed to return.
She squeezed back.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No.”
He grinned. Cora had healed since her little splish-splash in the ocean, but he knew what she meant. “Me, neither.”
“Maybe we should stay? I think I’m going to miss that cow horse.”
“No, you won’t.”
“You’re right. I won’t. But maybe we should stay anyway.”
“That would be irresponsible.” The Eyrie had impending problems that wouldn’t solve themselves.
“But a lot more satisfying.”
He looked down at her. If he had his way, he’d pick her up, stomp back to the keep, rip off her makeshift flying gear and show her just how satisfying it could be.
“Oh, would you two just leave?” Karla barked from a few feet away. “I want to go home.”
“And you have fucked enough these last couple of weeks. You can wait a couple of days until you get home,” Phil added.
“Debatable,” Ronin grumbled.
Cora snorted and dove off the cliff. Before hitting the water, she spread her wings, caught the wind, and rose into the skies.
Phil whistled.
“See you soon,” Ronin said.
“Hope not,” Phil said. “Send Cora on her own next time, eh?”
Ronin flipped him off and followed Cora. The wind streamed by, pressing his face, pushing on the humerus bones of his wings. The mended one still felt weaker than the other—not quite one hundred percent, but it held. The last two weeks had been training, fucking and fighting.
Best. Time. Ever.
“I’ll actually miss those two.” Cora hovered above, waiting. She waved to the two king’s hunters watching from the cliff’s edge. When he drew closer, she let her hand fall and turned to him.
“Ready?” she repeated his earlier question.
“No.”
She smirked and turned northward, setting an easy pace.
“So what abominations do I have to look forward to on this trip?”
“The Sea Beast.”
“And?”
“Just the Sea Beast.”
That sounded ominous. When he was in court, reports constantly came back from the cormorant and albatross patrols on the eastern opening of the channel with sightings of the sciper. They theorized it had a lair in the northern area of the bay.
What a nice pleasant thought for a morning flight.
“It will take us all day to get to Outpost Island,” Cora called out over her shoulder.
They’d already spoken about this. Why was she bringing it up now?
“The Sea Beast doesn’t usually patrol this far south. Tomorrow’s trip is when we’ll have to be more cautious.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
“What?”
He repeated his question, yelling over the wind.
She looked over her shoulder, tendrils of hair already escaping her braid to slap her face. “I can sense him.”
What? “What?”
“I sense him.”
“Right now?” Though warm from flying, a chill spread through his body. He scanned the water below. Where was the fucker?
“He’s north of here and distant. When he gets closer, I’ll feel it.”
First the ocean healing, now this? All sapavians retained some birdlike behavioural ticks from the DNA used to genetically enhance and alter their ancestors. Eagles tended to be monogamists, the urge to cartwheel with their chosen mate strong and instinctual. He’d never felt the drive to free fall to his possible death while making out until he kissed Cora.
Seagulls craved to buy, trade and endlessly searched for better deals and more profits. Most Seagull Clan members found themselves in merchant trades, market vendors and store owners.
Pigeons excelled at short distance communication. Often acting as messengers within the kingdom’s walls. Technically, they delivered messages to Iom as well, travelling the route through the waystations, but anyone with money and means went through Kane.
Hawks were driven to protect and gravitated to enforcement roles, making up the bulk of the police force and the royal guard.
And cormorants? Officially known for ocean scouting and fishing, their clan had an unofficial reputation as spies and long-distance cross-water messengers.
What other traits did the Cormorant Clan retain from their avian DNA?
“Is that a cormorant thing?”
She shook her head. “Neither is the ocean healing. It’s a Cora thing. Something…Something’s different with me.”
He drew up beside her and they hovered in the air, aided by a strong wind. “Do you think something happened to you after you escaped the outpost? You don’t really remember that time.”
She bit her lip and looked away.
No, that wasn’t it. Had she always sensed sea monsters? Was that how she evaded the beast? Is that why she didn’t want it to be killed? What exactly was the connection between her and the monster?
“Something definitely happened during the time I can’t remember.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But I think I’ve always sensed the sea monster. I’ve always had this…awareness. This tingling at the base of my neck that would intensify and fade like the ebb and flow of the tide. The first time I really sensed the sea monster was when my family made the trip to Hadren’s Keep and then it stayed. No longer a faint feeling, a strong awareness remained in my head as if the Sea Beast stalked the shores of the Oap waiting for me.” She shivered and ran her hands over her arms. “Hell, maybe he did.”
“You keep saying he.”
She nodded.
&nbs
p; “What aren’t you telling me?”
A gust of wind pushed them up, bringing with it salt and little puffs of sea foam.
They both looked up at the sky, the clouds more gray than white closing in.
“Rain,” Cora said.
He nodded. “We need to move.”
Without speaking, they turned north and flew. This time Cora set a harder pace. Fast, but steady, aiming for Outpost Island. The odd rock formation that reached up from the ocean might provide them with safety from the elements, the approaching storm and allow them to rest for the night, but Cora wouldn’t be safe from his questions. With each wingbeat, he added another to his list.
41
“Be alone with the sea for it is there you will find answers to questions you didn’t realize exist.”
Khang Kijarro Nguyen
In the middle of Carrion Bay, a jagged rock jutted from the ocean. The ruins of an ancient outpost perched on a ledge above the crashing waves. The water was always turbulent here. Strong currents from Carrion Channel, the bay and the Eyrie Ocean seemed to collide in this one despondent spot. As she didn’t carry a death wish, Cora never ventured beneath the surface of the angry ocean at this particular location. There didn’t appear to be a ledge under the water. No shoreline. The slice of mountain rose straight from the deep depths of the bay.
Cora led Ronin to the shelter within the ruins. It wasn’t much. A hastily erected roof constructed from the building’s remains and extra survival material stashed away, safe from the elements. Messengers travelled light and rarely travelled this route.
She paused.
Never travelled this route.
She sorted through the old supplies and set up the bedding while Ronin made a fire. Everything smelled of mould.
“You’re quiet,” she said.
“I have a lot of questions. I’m trying to sort out which ones I should ask first.”
She nodded, waiting for regret or disgust to flash across his expression. Instead, he sat down and patted the spot on his right. He splayed his wings behind him and leaned back on his arms.
She sat down and spread her wings to block the wind. “Hit me with them.”
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