25. Danica

Danica

25

M y lips still tingle fromRhyland's fiery kisses, the memory of his seductive words lingering like a heady perfume. How could I forget the intensity of that moment? AsLucianfed on me,Rhyland's embrace and whispered obscenities drove me wild—a sensory overload that threatened to consume me entirely.

My thoughts wander into unfamiliar and potentially risqué territory, my barely-there attire doing nothing to conceal my arousal. It's a good thing vampires can't read minds, orRhylandwould be getting an eyeful of the X-rated movie playing in my head right now.

We slip back into camp as stealthy as shadows, our secret little rendezvous going undetected by the clueless crew. And here I am, cozily ensconced betweenRhyland's legs—my personal throne—basking in the heat he's giving off more than the fire itself.

EnterLucian, plonking himself down with that eagle-eyed gaze that's too perceptive for my liking. It's like he's got a sixth sense for sexual tension, and right now, he's picking up on it like a bloodhound on a scent trail.

I look at him in exasperation, letting out a practically audible eye roll. "What's with the hawk eyes,Lucian?" I fire back, my tone as sharp as a razor's edge.

He leans in, elbows propped on his knees in a casual slouch as that trademark panty-dropping smirk plays across his lips. "Not a thing, sweet cheeks," he purrs, his tone equal parts smooth and smart-ass. "Just wondering if maybe you got a little too into the whole 'vampiric lifeforce happy hour' back there." He arches one brow salaciously. "Not that I'm bitching, mind you. Having a bodacious babe like yourself offer herself to me like that?" He lets out an exaggerated chef's kiss. "Fucking. Dream. Come. True."

Rhylandlets out a primal, growly rumble from the depths of his Viking-vampire ways, a hint of fang on display.

My glare atLuciancould slice through steel; my eyes narrow to slits. "Asshole," I hiss under my breath, because subtlety? Who needs it?

Lucianthrows his head back with a rich, rumbling laugh, shaking it slowly as if savoring the moment. "That's rich coming from you, Princess," he shoots back. Fixing me with a look through hooded eyes, he smirks. "The holier-than-thou routine is cute and all, but we both know you've got a deliciously wicked streak under those pristine feathers."

But then his playful demeanor shifts, his gaze sweeping over us and grounding into something more solemn. He tosses me a softer look, the smart-ass fa?ade momentarily shelved. "Thanks," he murmurs, the weight of his sincerity hanging between us like a tangible thing. "For helping me."

I feel a pang of something in my chest at his words, a flicker of warmth that has nothing to do with the fire orRhyland's body heat. Because beneath all the snark and sass,Lucian's a good guy. A loyal friend. And hearing him express his gratitude so openly and honestly means more than I can say.

So I nod, my lips curving into a small smile. "Anytime," I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Lucian's answering grin is blinding, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. "Friends who let friends drink their blood?" he quips, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. "Sounds like a pretty exclusive club." He leans back, draping an arm over the back of the tree trunk as that trademark smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. "Count me in as a charter member if it means indulging in delicacies like you more often,AngelCakes."

I roll my eyes again but can't quite keep the laughter out of my voice. "Shut up," I mutter, tossing a twig at his head. "Before I change my mind and rescind your membership."

Rhyland's growl rumbles from behind me, "Not on my fucking watch,Lucian. You got that? Not ever again."

Lucianholds his hands up in surrender. "Loud and clear, boss," he says toRhyland, his usual sarcastic lilt replaced with sincere compliance. "Though you know I never could resist pushing a few buttons here and there." He shootsRhylanda conspiratorial wink, the brotherly affection clear despite his smartass tendencies shining through.

Needing to change the subject before things get too heavy, I quickly state, "So, big brains on deck—let's hash out our master plan."

Rhylandnods in agreement, pulling me closer in a protective embrace. "What do you suggest?" he asks, his voice low and serious.

"We're taking a field trip tothe Sun Court," I declare like I'm announcing the next big road trip destination.

The guys freeze, doing a classic double-take.Rhyland's the first to reboot, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Whythe Sun Court?" he asks, his tone curious and cautious.

Snuggling intoRhyland's muscle-bound embrace is like being cuddled by a living, breathing fortress."The first time we entered fae-land, something inside me went all 'Jack Sparrow's compass' straight towardthe Sun Court," I explain, my voice tinged with excitement.

Rhylandtightens his grip, part protective, part 'tell me more.' "And our good buddyFaderyn? He spun a yarn aboutthe Sun Court's shiny origins and their knack for keeping big shiny things."

Fingers dance along my arm in classicRhylandstyle, half soothing, half Morse code. It's like he's trying to decipher the universe's secrets through the language of touch.

"And you think this Faerite Stone's part of their fancy stash?"Rhylandmurmurs in my ear, sparking a shiver that snakes down my back like a lightning bolt.

"It's worth a shot!" I say, my voice bright and determined. "It's our one and only breadcrumb on this wild goose chase."

Luciansnorts softly, though not out of disbelief. "And you're just planning to waltz intothe Sun Courtand find this thing?" He arches an eyebrow skeptically, shootingRhylanda look of pure incredulity. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that place supposed to be heavily guarded and damn near impenetrable? Not exactly a casual stroll through the park we're talking about here."

The corner of my mouth twitches upward, a smirk playing at my lips. "Something like that," I reply, my tone dripping with mischief.

Rhyland's chuckle resonates from behind me, deep and comforting. "She doesn't 'waltz,'Lucian," he quips, a teasing lilt in his voice. "She storms in like a force of nature."

Before I can reply,Meadowappears at the edge of our circle, her delicate frame barely disturbing the grass as she settles beside us. Her large, doe-like eyes meet mine momentarily before she speaks, her voice as soft as a whisper. "Darkness has many faces," she murmurs, her tone heavy with warning. "Some are closer than we realize."

Lucian's voice slices through the air, "Yeah, likeAdrian's epic douchebag move? Turning to the goddamn dark side on us?" He shakes his head in disbelief, jaw clenched. "Seriously, I mean, I know the kid always marched to the beat of his own drum, but I didn't see that monumental betrayal coming at all."

I find myself nodding, the sting of betrayal still fresh, like a wound refusing to heal. "It blindsided all of us," I admit, feeling a hollow ache at the mention ofAdrian's name. "One moment he was our ally, the next... it's like we never really knew him."

Rhyland's response is primal, a deep, visceral growl vibrating from his chest, the sound of an animal wounded, his trust shattered. I feel the undercurrents of his pain, the throes of his anger resonating within my own chest. Instinctively, my hand reaches for his, a silent offer of comfort.

Cutting through the thick silence,Rhylandlays bare the gnawing doubt clawing at him. "I'm going to fucking kill him when I see him—the one question haunting me is whether he can break back into the realm using your powers."

A frown takes up residence between my brows, and a sigh whispers out, a silent flag of truce in our war against the unknown. "Got a crystal ball? 'Cause that's about what I'd need to tell you when his power-leeching holiday ends," I admit, feeling the weight of our shared anxiety. "Navigating this power of mine is like reading a map with half the landmarks missing."

Lucianleans forward, elbows resting casually on his knees as he fixes me with that steady, piercing gaze. "Alright, so what's the grand plan here, Angle Cake?" He arches one eyebrow skeptically. "We just gonna stormthe Sun Court, lay on some thick charm to dazzle the Fae royalty, and hope they feel generous enough to point us in the right direction?"

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Because something tells me those pretentious fairy dust snobs aren't exactly gonna be lining up to lend a helping hand out of the goodness of their hearts." He lets the sarcasm linger a beat before adding dryly, "Call it a hunch."

"Amara mentioned they're not what they seem," Rhyland says, his skepticism echoing through me.

"That hag would say anything to make you believe otherwise,"Lucianscoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I mean, come on. She's got 'lying sack of shit' written all over her in big, sparkly letters."

He leans in closer, his eyes narrowing conspiratorially. "Seriously, though. I wouldn't trust that bitch as far as I could throw her. And considering she probably weighs about as much as a small hippopotamus, that ain't very far."

I can't help but snort out a laugh.

DespiteLucian's colorful assessment, I can still feelRhyland's hesitation aboutthe Sun Court. It's palpable, a tension in the air that sets my teeth on edge.

I come to life slowly, cocooned inRhyland's secure hold. His presence is like a hearth, radiating a deep, bone-deep comfort that seeps into my soul. For a heartbeat, the daunting journey ahead blurs into nothingness, fading away like a half-remembered dream. His thumb gently strokes my cheek, and I press my face into his hand, inhaling the grounding blend of his earthly, salty sea scent that is uniquely his. Our limbs intertwine beneath a canopy of furs, his lips kissing my forehead softly like a whispered prayer.

"Time to stir, sweetheart," he murmurs, the sound breaking the morning's stillness like a spell.

With hesitation, I exit his embrace. The morning's chill is a startling contrast to the snug shelter of our shared warmth. Around us, the camp hums with energy,Axilya's people orchestrating the trek back to the serene refuge ofWhispervale.

Axilya's voice cuts through the air, crisp like the morning itself. "Lucian,Dani, andRhyland, you will take the carriage.Faderynand I will accompany you and the crew on horseback."

With the carriage now repaired, the trek toWhispervalelooms like a day-long marathon of sitting, and I cringe inwardly, flashing back to the last time we rocked 'n' rolled in that rickety carriage and the souvenir buttache I scored for my troubles.

Encore? Hard pass. Nevertheless, it's not likeRhylandcan swoop me off to safety with his vampiric speed—not with him in hiding and Cruella De Mean on the warpath. So 'safe' is my middle name for now, even if it means dealing with a case of sore buttcheeks!

We scoop up our gear, our quest hanging heavy around us like a cloak. Hoisting myself into the carriage, that all-too-familiar queasiness somersaults inside me, but whining hours have been slashed from our day planner, so I guess I can't complain too much.

Lucian's the eternal poster boy for 'cool as a cucumber,' flaunting his chill factor like he's daring the universe to mess with him. I shoot him a side-eye special as I plop down, mentally strapping in for the bumpy ride ahead.

Beside me,Rhyland's deep voice booms out toMeadow. "Mouse, grab your shit and saddle up. You've earned your spot with us."

Meadow's eyes are like twin flickers of candlelight in a drafty room—shy, somehow still daring to shine. She nods, barely louder than a breath, "Yes, I'd like that very much."

You can practically hear the boulder of worry tumbling off her shoulders—relief isn't just a word for her; it's a life raft.

Meadowteams up withFaderynon his horse, giving me a reassuring smile just as the carriage doors swing shut with a resounding thud.

As our carriage kicks off, shaking like a martini in the hands of an overzealous bartender, I take in a lungful of resolve, grippingRhyland's hand with silent thanks for his vibe of sturdy calm.

We're en route toWhispervale, each rattle and shake drumming in the reality of our choice. It isn't just about putting miles behind us—it's the prologue to a saga we're writing together, a story just beginning to unfold.