His focus drops to my mouth. “I would much rather choose our previous option number two, where we head up to my bedchamber and use our time judiciously.”
“Solid plan,” I agree, my body heating at the mere suggestion. “But we are going to have to talk about Viscount Tecarus.”
“Fuck.” He looks away. “I’d almost rather talk about our exes.” His focus shifts back to mine. “Who are your exes? Do I know them?”
“Tecarus.” I arch an eyebrow. “Now. I know you want to keep your secrets, but you told me you’d give me information if it could affect my decisions, and I have a nagging suspicion what’s going on has to do with me.” I trail my fingers down the side of his neck with his relic, simply because I can’t help but touch him. “So I’m asking you: what does Tecarus want for the luminary—the one device that could complete your forge—that you’re unwilling to give?”
His grip tightens around my waist, pulling me even closer. “Besides weaponry and a private army?” He pauses, war waging in his eyes before he sighs. “You’re the first lightning wielder in over a century. He swears he’ll let us take it to Aretia if he can see you wield.”
I blink. “That part seems easy enough.”
“It’s not. Our first deal fell apart when I discovered he was only willing to let us use the luminary, not take it, which would have meant stationing dragons in Cordyn. And secondly, I don’t trust him to stop at seeing you. He’s known for collecting precious things and keeping them against their will.” His thumb grazes my lower lip, sending a shiver of awareness through me. “I won’t risk it. Won’t risk you.”
“Doesn’t seem like it’s your risk to take,” I say softly. He needs that luminary, but maybe if I can get the wards up, that will buy us some time.
“I told you in Aretia—I would rather lose this entire war than live without you.” He skims my jawline with his fingers before dropping his hand.
“I didn’t really think you meant it when you said that.” The ache in my chest damn near explodes. I love this man with every beat of my reckless heart, which would be his if he’d simply stop keeping all his secrets and let me know him.
“You have to trust me again at some point.” His mouth tightens. “Going to Cordyn isn’t up for discussion. Brennan is already negotiating for different terms.”
“But I’m right here. You cannot protect me from every—” I glance over at the weight he slides into the deep sheath at my shoulder, the sheath that’s only there because I’m wearing his flight jacket. “What is that?” But I already know. The alloy in the hilt flashes in the moonlight before it disappears, tucked against my arm.
“I need you to be able to defend yourself no matter what happens. You’re not the only one with bad dreams, you know.”
My lips part. “Xaden,” I whisper, sliding my hands to his face and scratching my palms on the stubble of his cheeks. “I’m a lightning wielder. I’m never defenseless against venin.”
“You’ll have to keep it hidden, of course.” His voice turns gruff. “Sew a deeper sheath into wherever you’re most comfortable.”
I nod. Right now, there’s almost no chance anyone could spot it unless it was facing outward or they knew where to look, anyway.
“Anything else we need to discuss?” he asks.
A grimace wrinkles my nose.
“Other than the battle of Zolya getting leaked in Battle Brief and Markham playing it off as propaganda?” My mouth twists.
He simply stares at me this time.
“Or the fact that Nolon’s spent months saving Jack Barlowe’s life?” I turn out of his arms, and we start walking toward the outpost with its burning torches along the outer battlements. “Oh, and Varrish punched my shoulder out of socket during interrogation after Dain refused to use his signet on me.”
Xaden stops.
“Don’t worry,” I say over my shoulder, tugging him along. “We escaped.
They tried using this new elixir on us that dulls our connections to our dragons and our signets, but I remembered how it smelled from land nav, so we avoided that one.”
“Signet-blocking elixir?” His voice rises.
“It’s fine. If I can get my hands on the solution, I can probably figure out an antidote.” I glance at him. “Or Brennan can.”
His gaze bores into mine. “What happened to us working on that whole communication thing?”
“I could make you ask questions for the information.” I flash a sarcastic smile. “Did I mention that Dain challenged me?” I’m definitely not asking about the ridiculous statement he dropped on me about my mother. Dain doesn’t deserve my headspace. “Shit, I should probably tell you about Aaric, too.”
Xaden sighs. “So much for option number two.”
There’s an odd hope that fills me as Tairn and I land on the flight field at Basgiath the next afternoon. Maybe it’s that I finally feel like Xaden and I are really, honestly trusting each other with more than just our bodies, even if he’s not giving me full access.
And his body is most definitely a perk. I’m deliciously sore from more than just the flight as I dismount Tairn at the edge of the field to avoid the incoming landings as First Wing goes through third-year maneuvers.
Shit, I should have slipped the dagger into my pack before landing. Dragons and their riders are everywhere.
“With all these dragons present, I have no doubt that Varrish and Aetos have been alerted to your return,” Tairn warns me.
“I’ll face my punishment,” I respond, scratching the dull scales of his chin. “You need to hydrate. You’re all dried out from the flight.”
“Our departure was more my fault than yours. I will not stand for you to bear my punishment.”
“Stop being sweet. It’s disturbing.” I pat his scales one more time and heft my bag higher on my shoulder. “It’s been a couple of weeks. Do you think Andarna will wake anytime soon?” I miss her.
“There’s no way to tell,” he says quickly. Too quickly.
