When Skaja woke, everything hurt...less. The arch of her wings pulsed lightly with pain, but not much. Her shoulder blade obeyed her when she tried to move it, and her wing no longer hung at a precarious angle.

She bolted upright and found herself in a dark room, lying on a bed with soft sheets. Her hand instinctively reached for the other side of the bed, expecting to touch a sleeping Calle’s shoulder. Only...he wasn’t there.

She nearly laughed at herself, but she didn’t refrain from rolling her eyes. How was it possible a valkyrie like herself had come to depend on his constant, comforting presence? 

Slowly, she edged off the bed and lifted her wings. They obeyed her. The muscles in her back pulled in protest when she spread them on either side of her. She flapped them once, twice, before pulling them back to her body.

Tears of gratitude pricked her eyes. Calle had done this for her. She was indebted to him.

The last place she remembered was the healing quarters. If Calle had kept his promise, he must have carried her back to this room himself. 

Noticing her dagger harness on the bedside table, she picked it up, along with both daggers, and slipped out the door wearing only her dress and bare feet. A part of her wished to find herself wearing Calle’s clothes again.

Darkness slithered on all sides of her like crawling shadows. They followed her as she crept through the hallways, blindingly trailing the faint tether that connected hers and Calle’s heartbeats. 

She frowned as she crept down one hallway, and then another, her feet silent against the cold stone floor. Wherever Calle was, it was far from her room. Not being near enough to protect him concerned her.

The light from two torches flickered on the wall further down the corridor, moving closer and closer.

By instinct, she ducked behind the corner and tucked herself as close to the wall as possible. She held her breath as two guards passed by with swords clinking against metal armor. Only when the light disappeared around the bend did she roll her eyes.

“What am I doing?” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m allowed to be here.”

Still, she continued forward silently and avoided notice until she stood in front of a plain wooden door. The golden handle appeared to be rusted, even in the pitch-black corridor. She grasped the handle... 

And paused.

Shaking her head, she murmured again, “What am I doing?”

Her gratitude could wait until morning rather than her waking Calle up just to say thank you. 

She slid against the wall until she sat on the ground. Her feathers ruffled around her, getting comfortable to pass a night’s sleep in the hallway when the door opened suddenly, and Calle’s head poked out.

“Why are you in the hallway?” Even in the darkness, his eyes twinkled with amusement.

With a shrug, she played off her confusing attachment to the fae prince. “Didn’t want Inari to make good on her threats. Your hair looks better on your head.”

“I agree.” He paused. “You know, the stone looks awfully cold. It’s warmer in my bed.”

“Is that an observation or an invitation?”

He grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “Obviously, an invitation. I would have stayed with you in your room, but people were watching. Your father put your room way on the other side of the fortress. I don’t quite appreciate it.”

Laughter escaped her, but she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and glanced back and forth down each end of the hallway. Silence.

Flickering torchlight steadily moved back in her direction like the first time. Before the guards could catch her outside the prince’s room, she slipped inside, and he softly closed the door behind her.

“It better be warm,” she said as she climbed onto the bed and snuggled beneath the covers, “because my feet are cold.”

“Where are your shoes?”

“I’m not sure. My room was dark.”

His smile gleamed again as he joined her beneath the covers. “Always, always have a weapon on you, you said. I thought the same rule applied to having shoes in case you need to run or something.”

“I can fly. I don’t need shoes.”

Her heart tumbled in her chest as he moved closer to her, his arm draped around her waist and his warm feet covering her cold ones. His warmth seeped into her. Beckoning. Inviting. She felt safe and comfortable in his arms, but something else lay beneath the surface of her skin. Searing heat. A desire for more snuggles and laughter and kisses.

“I can feel your heart,” he murmured as he gently trailed a finger across her eyebrow, down her cheek, and caressed her jaw. “I think you might actually like me.”

“That’s your own heart you’re feeling.” Though the way her pulse pounded in her ears betrayed her.

“Most definitely a bit of both.” His mouth quirked with disappointment. “The soul bond is already starting to fade between us. I rather enjoy this connection with you.”

“Why?” she dared to whisper.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he gazed into her eyes as he trailed his fingers through her hair, over her shoulder, and caressed the tips of her wings. The intimate touch of her feathers spurred a fast-paced, irregular rhythm in her chest. She tipped her face up to level it with his. An invitation.

One he didn’t hesitate at.

He kissed her lips softly as if they were two rose petals brushing together in a gentle breeze. Although she wasn’t very good at this, she tried to mimic what he’d done. Her hand trailed up his back and her fingers tangled in his hair.

He released a groan against her mouth and deepened the kiss. Her insides quaked in response to his touch. To his kiss. A foreign desire erupted within her. To touch him everywhere. To be touched everywhere.

Her hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his toned muscles and chest hair beneath her fingers. His skin burned with a desire to match her own, their hearts beating in sync. Their tongues danced in a passionate frenzy. Their bodies fit together like midnight skies and starlight. He stroked her wings and her hair, and when he grabbed her arse, she inhaled sharply in surprise and broke the kiss, stopping them from going any further.

“Sorry, too much?” he whispered beneath her. His dark amber eyes pooled with desire, and she felt as if a single wrong word from her would snuff the light all too easily.

“No.” She bit her lip, but a smile broke through anyway as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I am simply not accustomed to being touched by a man.”

He raised an eyebrow. “By women?”

“No,” she laughed, falling onto her elbow, her head resting against her hand as she gazed down at him. “Not by women either. Though Inari...”

“You don’t need to tell me about her romantic pursuits,” he chuckled, and she closed her eyes and sighed when his fingers brushed her cheek. His voice turned into a raspy whisper. “You are so beautiful, Skaja.”

She flicked him in the shoulder. “You most definitely are a cat if you can see me in the dark.” As she placed her hand over his heart, she sobered. “Thank you for healing me. My wings hardly hurt anymore. You...aren’t like any man I’ve been led to believe was evil. You are good and kind. And...I’m sorry for trying to kill you in the Pits.” A surprising sadness washed over her, and her chin trembled when she thought of a life without Calle in it. Why did it hurt so much? “It would have been a horrible mistake.”

Taking a few moments to reply, Calle reached for the covers pooled at their ankles, and she spotted the gray and white tattoo of a snowy mountain range before he tucked her in beside him and held her close to his body.

He kissed her forehead, her nose, and lightly kissed her lips. “I can’t be too upset when you rescued me and are with me now like this. I’m happy. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time.”

“Me neither.” Comfort and joy charged the following silence in the room. Calle’s body heat enveloped her, lulling her into relaxation. She thought he might have fallen asleep when his breathing deepened, but she ventured to ask, “I saw the tattoo on your ankle. What does it mean? And where are the other bad boy tattoos?”

“Bad boy?” he laughed. Seconds later, a magical golden orb floated in the air with a gesture of his hand, casting a yellow light over his face. He sighed. “I’m not proud of them, but no one is perfect. They are reminders of my past and how I can do better in my future.” He gestured to the foot of the bed. “I left my friend stranded in the mountains to save myself. It was a selfish thing to do. When I got back to the castle, they sent out a search party. My friend lived. For a few years, at least. And then he got killed by a valkyrie.”

She grimaced. “I hope more than anything it wasn’t me.”

With a shake of his head, he replied, “It wasn’t. She had lighter skin. I only wish I had done something to stop it.” He sighed, but then pulled his waistband down a few inches to reveal the tattoo below his left hip bone—a gray rose with drops of red on the petals. “Confessing to an elder who is also your tattoo artist is like confessing to a priest. My friends dared me to try to seduce the daughter of a visiting foreigner. Things went poorly when I took her to the falls. She...fell in and the falls swept her over the cliff. She was gravely injured, but she survived. Our visitors left quickly after that. I am ashamed of myself to this day.”

“How old were you?” she murmured, tracing the buttons of his shirt. 

“Fifteen.”

“Fifteen...” Flashes of red streaked across her vision as memories assaulted her mind. “When I was fifteen, I killed my first man. It was awful. He’d been a lone traveler. Hadn’t done anything wrong, necessarily. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She swallowed while trying to push the horrid images from her mind. “I like to think I’d have been a better person if Paula had never taken me. Perhaps we would have grown up as friends. Perhaps I would have protected instead of killed.”   

“There is still time to change.” He stroked his fingers up and down her spine. “The past is not there to haunt us, but to help us. To learn from it. To become better.”

She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you truly believe that?”

His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I try my best to. It’s not always easy.”

Those words ran through her mind as she lay her head on his shoulder. “Then I will try as well. To move forward. To become better.”

He kissed her head. “It’s all we can do.”