Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
They aren’t forces. They’re cadets in need of the protection of the wards.
The duke scratches his neck. “We’ll think on it. The fliers handling themselves in the quadrant would go a long way toward smoothing that negotiation point.”
My thoughts exactly.
“You’re dismissed, cadet,” Melgren orders.
“I’ll walk you out,” Lewellen says, pushing away from the table and rising to his feet.
I slip the mangled list into my pocket and cross the cobblestones to the door, trying to pick up the pieces of my shattered expectations. There’s no telling if we’ll be able to trust whoever Grady selects for the squad.
“I’ll work on these,” Lewellen says quietly, raising the list of Andarna’s demands. “And in the meantime”—he reaches into his tunic and retrieves a palm-size missive—“I was asked to give you this privately.”
“Thank you,” I respond out of habit, taking the parchment.
He knocks twice on the door, and I depart through the one the guard gestures me through on the left.
Opening the missive, I walk into the hall, recognizing Tecarus’s sprawling handwriting.
You have three days to hold up your end of our bargain.
Fuck. That’s not an option. I look up and find every member of my squad waiting, a wall of black and brown holding back a sea of colorful tunics and gowns.
“How did it go?” Imogen asks.
“Give her a second,” Rhi lectures.
My gaze sweeps over them as the door shuts behind me, and then I lock eyes with Xaden, who is crossing the distance between us. “The plan went to shit.”
Which means the one I’m holding in my hand can’t fail.
• • •
Morning light pours in through my window, and I slowly blink awake to the sound of the campus bells chiming eight times. Snow sits stacked on the sill, but the skies beyond are blue for the first time since solstice.
Holy shit, I didn’t just sleep, I slept in. Maybe it was hitting the gym last night with Imogen, or the emotional letdown after I’d vented with Rhi and Tara about why Grady was the worst possible choice to lead Andarna’s mission, but I didn’t wake once, thank gods. I must have drifted off after settling into bed with the book on Navarrian imports predating the Trade Agreement of Resson that Jesinia had tossed at me when I’d shown up to visit Sawyer, still seething. Lifting my head from the pillow, I spot the closed book on my nightstand, my page marked by one of Xaden’s daggers.
A slow smile curves my mouth at his thoughtfulness. Guess I’d been asleep by the time he made it to bed after his daily meeting with Brennan, Lewellen, and, as of yesterday afternoon, Duke Lindell, who fostered Xaden and Liam.
I turn under the warmth of the blankets, fully expecting to find Xaden wide awake given the hour, but he’s fast asleep with one arm curled around his pillow and the other with its freshly pink scar lying on the blanket between us. My heart clenches, and staring seems the only logical action, if only for just a few moments. Gods, is he beautiful. His face is softened in sleep, and all the tension he usually carries in his jaw, his shoulders, is strikingly absent. The last week has been hard on him, being constantly torn between his duties as a rider and navigating the responsibility he carries for Aretia in a space that doesn’t recognize it. I fight the urge to touch him. He’s slept like shit since the battle, too, and if he can get even just another few minutes, he should have it.
As slowly and silently as possible, I scoot toward my side of the bed and sit up, letting my feet dangle just above the floor. My hair is still partly damp from braiding it right after my bath last night, and I make quick, quiet work of running my brush through it so it has a prayer of drying before it’s time to head out into the cold. Once I set the brush back on the nightstand, I stretch with a speed a sloth would be proud of—
A band of shadow wraps around my waist a second before my hair is swept to the side and Xaden sets his lips to the juncture of my neck and shoulder in an open-mouthed kiss.
Oh, yes.
I gasp as an immediate flare of heat races down my spine at the lash of his tongue, the scrape of his teeth, and my head falls back against his shoulder. He moves straight to the hypersensitive spot at the side of my neck like my body is a map only he has the key to, and I spear my fingers into his hair as my back arches. Damn, he knows exactly how to take me from the ground to sky-fucking-high in less than a handful of heartbeats.
“Mine,” he growls against my skin, and his hand skims the hemline of my nightdress before dragging it up my thigh.