CHAPTER FORTY

The dream she once thought slaughtered by the morn

Pierced by the dawn’s zealous march toward day

Was a resilient thing, this reverie

It beckoned bright and built for her a way

To find that which she’d long been in search of

A sheltered place to fall, a time to love

—THE BOOK OF UNVEILING

The town house was majestic on the outside; inside it had obviously been targeted by sackers. Once plush, luxurious finishes had been stripped down to nothing.

“Whose house was this?” he asked.

“Someone who made a lot of money placating the True Father until the king grew tired of him.”

The hardness of her voice set off an alarm in Darvyn’s head. “One of your assignments?”

She nodded, her lips pressed into a grim line. He wouldn’t ask any more about it. But she was right, no one would expect to find an escaped prisoner and a rogue soldier in this neighborhood. They hadn’t even seen any search parties since they’d entered Windy Hill.

“We should be safe here,” she said, but uneasiness crept through him.

She moved around the living room, checking the window shutters, but he sensed she was really keeping space between them. She found a half-burned candle in a pile of debris in the corner and set it on an empty shelf. When she searched her pockets for something to light it with and came up empty, Darvyn lit the wick with Earthsong.

Kyara faced away from him, her head hanging. “He was there. In the warehouse.” Her voice was like fluttering dust.

“Who was?”

“The man who killed your mother.”

She turned around slowly, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she stared at the floor while she told of the mass gravesite she’d stumbled onto, and her strange meeting with Raal.

Darvyn’s throat thickened; fear strangled him. What was the physician’s endgame? Darvyn knew as well as Kyara did the man couldn’t be trusted, and now he wielded another new type of magic Darvyn didn’t understand. He felt helpless in his ignorance.

“I should have killed him,” Kyara said. “I’m so sorry, Darvyn.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Her voice hardened. “I should have killed the man who stole your mother’s life and not allowed his words to cause me to stray.”

“Do you believe he could do as he says? Remove your Song?”

Her face crumpled. “It seems so. I’ve never heard of his sort of power before. I don’t know what else it is capable of, but from the little I’ve seen, it’s not to be trifled with. And he wants something from me.”

“Then it’s good you kept him alive until you can learn more.” Her eyes were round with shock when she finally looked up at him.

“You aren’t mad? I made a vow to kill him. I essentially stabbed you in the back.”

An enormous weight was pressing down on him. He gave in to it and stretched out on the floor. “That’s the least backstabbing anyone has done to me today. If the physician’s people are after you, it’s best to know why. If you killed him, they would just send others.”

She sat, leaving a good distance between them, her face marred by a scowl. He wished he could make her understand—his heart was too heavy to hold anger at her. It already carried more sorrow than he could take.

They were each lost in their thoughts for a long time. Darvyn searched his memory for what he could have done differently.

“You’re thinking of her?” Kyara asked. “Meldi.” She answered his questioning look.

He sighed deeply. “I was thirteen when her parents died and she was hurt in that fire. The soldiers came in the middle of the night for me, but I’d been moved the day before. She blames me as she should. If I’d been there, I could have saved them.”

Kyara reached over and grabbed his hand. “Stop it. You saved many, many lives many, many times. What she wants is impossible. She wants perfection. Are you listening to yourself? You were thirteen.”

“And I had a responsibility—”

“One placed on your shoulders long before it was right. Listen to me: this is not your fault. Her betrayal is her burden to bear, not yours.” She squeezed him tighter, forcing him to stay connected. “Nerys is not your burden, either. That’s not why she asked me to find you. And that’s not why she gave you to the Keepers.”

Tears stung his eyes as he remembered his mother.

“You have to forgive yourself, Darvyn. Your mother never blamed you. She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He shut his eyes, but her words penetrated. He wasn’t sure what was true anymore, what was right for him to feel. He was locked in a never-ending whirlwind of guilt and helplessness.

Kyara’s soft voice filled the darkness, singing a familiar lullaby. His lullaby. The one his mother had sung so often about how she loved him more than the sun.

He curled into a ball and cried for all he’d lost. A family. A childhood. But he’d gained much as well. Loyal friends. Purpose in his life. And if he could convince Kyara to let down her walls—maybe more.

She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him as she sang. He sank into her embrace.

After the last notes of the song had faded, he whispered to her. “You have to do it, too. Forgive yourself. You didn’t choose to become the Poison Flame. That day your choice was to save the lives of every innocent person in that town.”

Her body grew rigid. “It isn’t the same.”

“Yes, it is.”

His arms snaked around her until they were holding each other, wrapped up in one another. Little by little, she relaxed.

“I’ve killed ninety-three men,” she whispered. “Eight women. And three children … that I know of. I don’t know the number of animals.” Her voice was a storm of sorrow. “Seventy-one of those kills were done in the service of the True Father.”

He drew in a jagged breath, and this time he pulled her so close he felt her heart beat through his own chest. It was like they were fused together. Heart to heart, beating in time together.

---

Kyara awakened to a cage of safety surrounding her. Darvyn’s arms trapped her in place against him. They’d fallen asleep like this. His breathing was soft and steady; the warmth of his breath heated her ear. No sunlight peeked through the gaps around the shutters, but her internal clock told her that dawn was near.

She held herself still, inhaling him, enjoying the feel of his arms tight around her. Lingering incense mixed with his skin’s unique scent. Goose bumps pebbled her skin, although she was warm. If she could have nothing else but this—exist for all time in his embrace—she would be forever satisfied.

She closed her eyes, committing the feel of him to memory. The heaviness of his arm. The solid wall of his chest against her back. Scared even to move, lest the moment be taken from her.

His even breaths made her think he was asleep, but his arms tightened, drawing her closer. Behind her, his head shifted and then lips grazed her neck, light as the tip of a paintbrush. She shivered.

Tingles flickered to life along the path his mouth took. Kyara closed her eyes to focus on the sensation and everything his gentle touch did to her body.

Darvyn’s hand was splayed across her abdomen. He dipped his fingers underneath the hem of her tunic, which had ridden up during the night. She gasped at the shock that rippled through her. Electricity raced across her skin, chasing his fingers. Vibrations from the small touch sank into her bones and radiated outward.

His lips firmed to press a kiss where her neck met her shoulder at the same time as his fingertips swept up to brush the underside of her breast. Her body quaked with each stroke.

Last night, she had wanted to keep a healthy distance between them. It would be better for him to stay away from her—she was poison, after all. But seeing as he had no intention of doing so, she allowed herself the indulgence of desire.

So few things were within her grasp, but here they were, not a sliver of daylight between them and him seeking more, gently, as was his way.

All the reasons they couldn’t be together flew from her mind. She covered his hand with hers and shifted it higher, boldly inviting him to caress her breast.

When he froze, his body rigid, she thought that he’d finally come to his senses. Of course she would ruin this with her eagerness. She had no regrets though, even if he was preparing to retreat. Instead, he rolled her to her back and moved over her, hovering, one hand on her breast, the other grabbing her braids. His lips descended, soft at first, then eager, consuming, bruising. He drank her in as if dying of thirst.

She was ravenous for him, as well. They collided, desperation erasing any hesitancy or doubt. A flurry of movement ensued—arms, legs, teeth. Fabric tore as he rushed to pull off her tunic. His fully healed chest was bared to her. She ran her hands across him, dipping into the ridges, skating across the coiled hair of his lower abdomen.

He tugged at the tie to his trousers, then slid hers down her legs in a fluid motion. She was bare, bathed in the early morning glow now filtering around the shutters. Darvyn’s eyes glittered with promise and admiration.

Kyara was not even self-conscious about her bandages, or of him possibly seeing the raw flesh on her mangled chest. His fingers grazed her breasts but were soon replaced by his mouth, first on one rigid peak and then the other. He licked a trail across them and back again. Her skin was so sensitive out in the open.

She shivered and clamped her legs together. Need, urgent and unfamiliar, beat a rhythm within. As though he knew exactly what she needed, Darvyn skimmed her side to grip her hip. He kneaded it gently as he suckled her breast and then slid his fingers between her thighs. She unclenched her muscles, allowing her legs to fall apart. He teased her there, not dipping in, just skirting her edges.

She ground her teeth together to keep from begging and then released all pride. “Please,” she said on a gasp, arching into his mouth, trying to urge his fingers inside her.

Very slowly, he complied, sliding into her. The anticipation was excruciating, too much and yet not nearly enough.

“More,” she said, rocking against his hand.

His chuckle was muffled by the presence of her breast in his mouth, but he did not draw back. Another finger joined the first, and the two worked together, building the tension to greater heights. She moaned, then bit her lip, trying to contain the pleasure.

His mouth traced up her neck to suck at her jaw. She tilted her head down until her lips found his and kissed him with explosive longing. His fingers worked furiously, manipulating the coiled tension within her, changing its direction, bunching it up and then releasing. She came against his hand, her cries smothered by his mouth on hers, his tongue delving deep inside.

As the potency of her orgasm waned, she still felt achy and needy. Her hands grazed the muscles of his backside, then went around to stroke him. Feeling his hardness magnified her desire.

Part of her wanted to take her time and feel the entire silken length, but the larger part was far more impatient. She positioned him, wrapped her legs around his back, and pushed.

He hissed as he sunk into her. The slight burn of the invasion eased quickly, and Kyara threw her head back, lost in the motion of their bodies. His mouth roamed across her jaw to nip at her ear. He tilted her, then lifted her with hands firmly gripping the globes of her ass. The position left only her shoulders on the mat, and Darvyn controlled her motions completely, picking up speed. She surrendered. Letting him take control was no hardship.

Sweat dripped from both of them as they came together. He shifted positions yet again, which triggered a wave of bliss to roll through her. It expanded, then lingered, lasting longer than her first orgasm. Darvyn sank back on his heels and, to her surprise, flipped her over so she was on her hands and knees. Then he was inside her again, taking and giving, forcing the breath from her body as she gasped with pleasure.

Every motion was like a flame singeing her, and her sweat did nothing to cool the inferno beneath her skin. Her fingers scrabbled on the floorboards, searching for something to hold onto as the world rocked around her. Her body was a bundle of nerves, and she could feel Darvyn on every part of her skin. He squeezed her waist hard enough to bruise, and then he tensed, nearly collapsing onto her back. His release sparked another from her. Bright spots laced her vision as she collapsed, too, his weight on top of her.

Her body hummed with the aftershocks. She could not have moved if one hundred venomous serpents had been chasing her. He lifted off her, and dragged her close to his side. Their breaths mingled as they panted for air. Tucking her against his chest, he wrapped her in his loving embrace. She closed her eyes, letting the memory sink into every part of her being.