He met her stare, met it and searched for the lie he thought she was telling. But she wasn’t lying. She was fine. She’d felt no panic when his arms had trapped her. No flashbacks or images of Captain Slate Hemming passed through her mind.

No, now she had a different problem.

Marai wanted Ruenen’s hands all over her. She wanted what Thora and Raife had, even if they chose to hide it.

Her nostrils flared as she tried to smother the fire burning in her veins. Marai contorted her face into the steely mask of the Butcher, hoping Ruenen wouldn’t find the cracks in her armor.

Ruenen, unaware of Marai’s trail of thought, turned back to the fence where the soldiers remained, like gold statues.

“Why don’t you all join us?” he asked. The soldiers shifted awkwardly on their feet, glancing at one another. “It must be terribly dull to stand there all day watching.”

Slowly, the six soldiers made their way onto the court. They kept their helmets on and distance from the fae.

Leif had been waiting for this opening. A chance to fight the humans. He might go as far as to actually injure his opponent for revenge. Ruenen merely smiled.

“We need to learn to work together if we’re going to win this war,” Ruenen said, meeting each pair of eyes, glancing between the soldiers and the fae. When no one moved, Ruenen leaned into Marai’s ear. “Help me out.”

Marai groaned, then pointed her sword at the nearest soldier. “You. Come.”

The soldier stammered. Someone shoved him forward. He held up his sword, gathering up his focus and breath. Ruenen paired Leif and Aresti up with soldiers. Marai tried to keep one eye on Leif and Aresti at all times, but despite being more aggressive in their movements than usual, everything seemed to be calm. A ripple of tension pulsated through the air as two sides of a centuries-long animosity trained together. It wasn’t friendly, but it was progress.

Not long after, cool spring rain splashed across Marai’s cheeks. This lasted a moment before the clouds opened up, and a deluge poured down, taking them all by surprise. Keshel, of course, hadn’t been wrong.

Ruenen and Marai dashed inside the storage hut nearby. There wasn’t room for anyone else in the cramped space, so Leif, Aresti, and the soldiers ran further, ducking inside the stables. Rain pelted the clay shingled roof of the hut as Ruenen and Marai stared at each other, chilled, and soaking wet to the bone.

Ruenen let loose a giddy laugh. And another. And soon, he was laughing like a fool in triumph.

“What are you so pleased about?”

“They were sparring, Marai!” Ruenen beamed, swiping wet hair from his eyes. “Fae and humans together. Peace between us is possible.”

Marai shook her head, chuckling, too, and swung her dripping hair behind her back. She leaned against a crate of tools. It took a moment for Marai to realize that none of the soldiers were around. None of Ruenen’s constant shadows.

They were alone.

Their first private moment together since they’d received Nieve’s letter two nights ago.

Ruenen didn’t seem to notice. He spoke animatedly about the soldiers and fae training together, but as Marai listened, she couldn’t stop herself from taking in the sight of the man before her.

The air inside the hut grew closer. Ruenen’s white tunic clung to his chest, revealing all the lean muscle underneath. Marai’s eyes lingered there, then slowly rose to his face, enjoying every glorious inch of him. Heat flooded her cheeks when her gaze landed on his mouth.

Ruenen cocked his head, noticing the sudden hunger in her gaze.

Dangerous territory. Dangerous to be alone with him, yet not at all afraid.

He didn’t blink or breathe.

The need to touch him became too difficult to ignore.

Marai closed the space between them in two strides. She grabbed hold of the collar of his tunic and pulled his mouth to hers.

Ruenen remained stiff as a board as her lips crushed his. His lips remained cautiously soft against her hungry kiss. His hands fisted at his sides, as if he thought his touch would hurt her, would send her reeling back to memories of Slate.

But she was in control. This was her choice.

Nothing else mattered except for the feel of his lips on hers, the firmness of his chest under her fingers. She took one of his hands and guided it to her waist. The minute his fingers curled around her, Marai gasped against his mouth.

Ruenen stopped holding back then.

His tongue glided across hers. She sucked on his bottom lip, something she’d been dreaming of doing for far longer than she wanted to admit. She tasted the sweaty-saltiness of him from training. It was intoxicating.

Ruenen let out a surprised moan; the sound of it reverberated through her bones.

Her whispered name on his lips nearly did her in.

Her fingers stroked across his chest and arms. Marai wanted to touch him everywhere. He pushed her backwards up against the crates of tools and supplies, and nibbled at her earlobe. Marai tilted her head backwards, allowing Ruenen to kiss up the column of her throat. She wrapped both arms around him, but there was too much distance between them. She wanted all of him, enveloping her.

Ruenen shuddered and gripped Marai tighter. His fingertips traveled up and down her spine in tortuous, frenzied strokes. Marai’s hands found the hem of his shirt, inching beneath to graze his abdomen—

“Your Highness?” came a shout from outside.

Ruenen and Marai leapt apart, panting, faces red and lips swollen. Marai searched Ruenen’s face for any sign of regret. There wasn’t an ounce of it. If anything, he looked as if he could barely keep himself standing up straight.

The rain outside had calmed to a drizzle. Voices called for the prince again.

“Here,” Ruenen shouted, although it was a strained sound. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Marai yet. He ran a hand through his wet hair.

Soldiers, including Avilyard, appeared at the hut door. More sloppy feet sounded down the muddy path, and Keshel, Holfast, and Ambassador Goso poked their heads in the door.

“Ah, there you are,” Holfast said. “We were hoping you didn’t get caught in the rain.”

Ruenen hastily adjusted his tunic, turning on his princely swagger. “Briefly. We decided to wait in here until it stopped.” He forced his voice to be level, but Marai heard its breathlessness.

Keshel observed Ruenen then Marai. He knew. The bastard could sense it. Or maybe it was so plainly written on their faces.

“Your Highness, it’s time to prepare for your visit to Grelta. Councilman Goso has discussion points he needs to go over with you,” said Holfast.

Ruenen walked stiffly to his side. Goso chirped advice as he led Ruenen back towards the castle, followed by the retinue of soldiers. Only Keshel remained, staring blankly at Marai.

“Be careful.”

“Of what?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Your heart.”

“My heart is none of your business.” Marai stalked outside past him into the spritzing rain.

“I don’t wish to see you so broken ever again.”