Epilogue

Aesylt still couldn't believe the observatory was finished.

Rahn and Drazhan had conspired to have it completed for her twenty-first nameday, months ahead of the original timeline, which would have pushed the grand opening into the last throes of autumnwhile—and they all knew that really meant another year. Any construction in the north was subject to the precariousness of the weather, and the autumnwhile season was as ephemeral as springtide.

Rustan and Pieter Dereham had donated fifty workers to the effort. They'd also sent a lovely bouquet from the Wintergarden for her nameday, with a note declaring their intention to donate half their first thaw hunt to the Cross again.

In a separate basket, Pieter had sent her and Rahn a dozen citron.

Rahn whisked her through the arched doorway. "I know you're not thrilled about wearing a gown, but I'm already a little jealous of all the men who will see you in it for the first time."

"I'll enjoy it more when you're taking it off me later tonight," she replied, taunting him. It was tradition for Vjestik women to wear the ceremonial gowns of their ancestresses on their twenty-first, but the plumes alone had her wondering how many people she would smack in the face before the night ended. Then Rahn had dared her to wear the hat too, and she could never pass up a challenge.

Aesylt's haughtiness was short-lived though, cut short by her immediate overwhelm.

There were at least a hundred Vjestik inside, all dressed in the finest they had available to them. Most sat at or on the ten tables hauled up and decorated with cutout stars and carafes of Valerian's special wine he'd crafted for the occasion.

A violinist played a lively chorale that had some dancing between the tables, creating magic under the stars. The auroras—a rarity in springtide—dusted the sky with swashes of emerald and violet, reflecting off the shards and squares of perfectly polished glass.

"What do you think, Squish?" Rahn asked, leaning close to be heard over the music and conversation.

"You must enjoy me speechless, because..." She laughed, exhaling. Everyone she loved was there. Drazhan. Valerian. Niklaus and other Petrovashes. The whole Castel clan and the Voronovs. Maia. Tasmin had just returned as well, later than she'd first said, and Aesylt couldn't wait to catch up with her and hear all her stories about Whitechurch and Lord Quintus.

The only one missing was Imryll, who had given birth to her second son, Torian, two nights earlier. Drazhan would only stay long enough to give a speech and then would hurry back to her side. "Thank you, Rahn. I can't imagine a better present."

"Oh, this?" Rahn glanced around with a contrived look of startle. "This isn't your present."

She laughed, delighted to see his playful side on display. He had slowly been getting more comfortable with it, but he was still a serious man. "No? And how will you top an entire observatory?"

"You'll find out. Tomorrow." Rahn winked, his mouth lifting. Aesylt wanted to climb him like a tree and drive them both against a wall, but Drazhan wouldn't appreciate her lack of restraint. "Tonight, let's enjoy what is evidently the fanciest fete the Cross has ever thrown."

"By a mile," she said, scanning the room in wonder.

"Just think of all we'll learn here. Together." Rahn squeezed her hand and gently nudged her to the center of the room, where others were dancing. "How much we'll teach others."

Aesylt squinted one eye. "I thought you were opposed to dance, Scholar?"

"It's your nameday. Seemed a fair reason to make an exception." He folded one of her hands in his and slid his arm around her waist, falling into suspiciously near-perfect time with the music.

"You're better at this than you wanted me to know," she said, undecided on whether to be impressed or suspicious.

"I learned very little of use on Duncarrow, but damned if they ever let us miss an opportunity to dance."

Aesylt laughed. "You didn't dance so smoothly with Nyssa."

"I was making a point."

"To me or her?"

"Her." Rahn grinned and spun her. "But it seems you received one too."

Aesylt tilted her head back, her eyes blurring as she watched his dimples form and soften. He seemed on the verge of either smiling or speaking, but something changed his mind, and his head shook gently instead as he watched her. "And what was the point you were making?"

Rahn's hand firmed against her back. "I can see you really want to know."

"Can see that, can you?"

"I've read you more and longer than any book on any shelf." He pulled her closer, more than was socially acceptable for a courting couple, sending her heart hammering against her chest. She'd never seen him so bold. "I wanted Nyssa Dereham to know that Rahn Tindahl was a man acquainted with civility, who couldn't refuse the offer of a turn with a lady of her station. But he only dances with the ones he can't bear to keep from his arms."

Aesylt recoiled playfully. "Seeing as I'm witnessing an expert at work here, that does not make me feel special."

"In Duncarrow, I danced with women who were like kin to me. I have never..." Rahn became suddenly serious. "Never danced with someone I was in love with. Tonight is the first."

"I was wrong," she said softly, melting to the floor. "I do feel special."

They were still dancing too close. Everyone was watching. Drazhan was already grumbly about Rahn's intentions toward her. They were in love but not betrothed. Marriage hadn't even come up. Aesylt had heard her brother talking to Brita the other day, and Brita had reminded Drazhan that his sister was happy, which was what mattered. Drazhan had diffidently agreed, but she could see he was still bothered by it.

He'd probably be even more cross when she told him she wasn't planning to have children.

The music shifted to a vigorous beat that started a rolling clap around the observatory. Aesylt reluctantly broke away from Rahn, and they joined in.

She squealed when someone goosed her from behind. There was only one man in the Cross brave enough to do it in a room full of people. She spun, feigning exasperation, and said, "Valerian Barynov, remember yourself."

Valerian gripped her face and planted a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "Can I not be affectionate with my ex-wife?"

Niklaus popped out from behind him. "Your union was annulled, wastrel. Do you know what that means? It never happened." He fluttered his hands in a show of magic, and they all laughed.

"Wasn't even annulled. It was never filed," Aesylt replied, still laughing. "Drazhan burned any evidence it happened at all."

Rahn drew closer to her. Since they'd started courting, he hadn't commented on her closeness with Val and Nik, and he never would. But the two of them brought out his subtle possessive side, and the sex after an encounter like that was... exquisite. Almost enough to make her want him jealous all the time.

"Only the Ancestors know how that night went. And me. And Aesylt." Valerian laughed.

Rahn tensed.

"All right, nothing choice happened, but only because I'm a gentleman, who had to pry her off of me?—"

Aesylt blinked at him in warning, and he stopped.

"Aes, we just came over to say we can't stay long," Niklaus said. "I'm reporting under the mountain at midnight for my trials, and Val offered to escort me."

Her heart fell. "Tonight?"

Niklaus smiled. "I've already put them off long enough. It's time."

"I'll give you three time alone. Find me later?" Rahn said.

She tilted up to kiss him. "Volemthe."

His smile brightened his entire face. "Volemthe." Her gaze trailed him as he slipped into the crowd.

"Never saw you two coming," Niklaus quipped.

"Such a stunning turn of events," Valerian said, his eyes rolling.

"So many denials."

Aesylt swatted them both with the backs of her hands. "I never said I wasn't interested in him. He was the one who needed to come around." She tugged on her dress, a little too tight around her hips. She'd gained a few pounds in the past months, since they'd done the fitting. Her appetite hadn't been so healthy since she was a child. "You're going to do wonderful, Nikky. I selfishly wish you wouldn't, because I will miss you so, so much."

Niklaus reached for her hand with a quick squeeze. "You can always come visit the kyschun for a dose of wisdom into the past."

"Eh. They like to yell."

Niklaus chuckled. "All part of the experience."

Aesylt looked at the two men who were her oldest friends, her first true confidants, and on one terrible winter night, had been witness to her greatest suffering while still reeling from their own. It was with love they'd withheld the full truth, but their watch was over.

She slid one arm around Niklaus, the other Valerian, and gathered them close. They wrapped her tight, squeezing the air out of her, and she laughed, sputtering melodramatically.

"You are my truest friends." Aesylt choked up. "And the most magnificent pains in my ass."

Valerian snickered. Niklaus grinned.

"And I love you both so dearly. Nikky, you have always supported my dangerous ideas, always kept me safe when I wasn't nearly concerned enough with consequences. And Val, my champion. I know..." Her chest shuddered. "I know things didn't turn out between us the way... but losing you would break my heart. I need you to know that."

Valerian's hand shot out and cupped her face. "I'll always be here. And I'll always call you my ex-wife whenever the scholar is nearby,so I can relish the stormy look he wears so well."

Aesylt laughed, glancing back into the crowd to search for the man in question. He was chatting with Jasika and Anton, but he caught her gaze and smiled. "I hope you do, because it gets him so riled, and?—"

"I cry foul, Aes, at hearing about your bedchamber escapades." Niklaus pretended to retch.

She was still laughing when she saw a brief commotion near the door. Guards were whispering to other guards, until one walked swiftly to Drazhan to whisper something in his ear. He startled and said something terse in return, and one of the guards made their way to Tasmin with a message. Her response was far less measured. She looked positively green.

"What?" Niklaus followed where she was looking.

"I don't know," Aesylt said. "Something's happened, maybe."

Drazhan ran his hands against his face with an apprehensive scowl. He nodded, whispered something back, and marched to the raised area of the observatory, followed by Fezzan.

"Aye! Shut it! Your steward has something to say!" Fezzan boomed, and the silence was so immediate, it drew nervous chuckles.

Drazhan shot him a bemused look and waited for everyone to settle. "Tonight is a special night." His voice was strong, carrying all the way to the back of the crowd, where Aesylt was growing increasingly disconcerted. "Tonight, we celebrate the rare and treasured occasion of consuming a Barynov wine and surviving to tell the tale."

Everyone tittered at the joke. Aesylt wanted to laugh at her brother's uncharacteristic humor, but it was only putting her further on edge. She exchanged a glance with Valerian, who seemed as apprehensive as she was.

"And my sister's nameday, of course."

More laughter.

"Something's happening with Tas," Niklaus said distantly and slipped off, following Tasmin on her swift exit from the observatory.

"What is going on right now?" Valerian muttered.

"Wish I knew." Aesylt saw Rahn standing with Jasika Voronov, his arms crossed and his brows joined.

"Aesylt is... Well, you all know her. She's more fiery than any flame. More cool than any glacier." Drazhan shifted, looking down. He folded his hands over his torso. "And when she was eight years old, she became the ruling leader of Witchwood Cross, a role she wasn't supposed to have—never asked for—and was forced to take on because her surviving brother had only vengeance on his mind. Yet she was a natural, one of the best stewards the Cross has ever had. Tonight, when you offer her your felicitations, don't forget to thank the girl who became a woman overnight so our village, our people, could rise once more from the ashes of another's war." He accepted a mug from Fezzan and raised it. "Hvala, Aesylt. And Blessed Nameday, cub."

"Hvala!" the crowd cheered. "Blessed Nameday!"

Aesylt wiped a tear on her arm and turned away. Valerian put a hand on her shoulder, sighing. She'd had no inkling Drazhan was going to make his speech so raw and personal. Their bond had never been more solid than after they'd talked about that night, but he'd not acknowledged any of it publicly.

"Cub."

Aesylt turned toward Drazhan. "Are you unwell or something? Feverish?"

"I meant what I said. No reason our people shouldn't hear it." He tugged on her ear but was looking past her, toward the door. "I have to go."

"Of course, Imryll?—"

"No." His throat moved. "We have unexpected visitors."

"Who?"

"Do you remember me telling you about Owen Strong and Farradyn Blackfen, my fellow Knights of Duncarrow?"

"The only ones you liked, as I recall."

"My friends. Farradyn took my place protecting the queen after I was gone, but Owen left the service all together... went back to the Southerlands. I haven't seen them since they helped me find Imryll." He pulled at his stubble, still watching the door.

"What's it got to do with Tas? She left in a pretty damn big hurry," Valerian said.

"Tasmin seems to have a history with one of them. I—it's not my place, even if I knew, and I don't."

"Then how did you know to warn her?" Aesylt asked.

"Owen told the guards it would be prudent." Drazhan kissed the top of her head. "Don't waste another thought about it. They're good men, some of the best, and there's no reason to worry. Enjoy your night, cub." He narrowed his eyes with a sweeping glance. "Doubtful we'll have another like it."

Filled with questions, she watched him leave.

"Go dance with your lover," Valerian said. "He's watching me lean in close, whisper in your ear, and he's about to lose his mind. Wait... Wait, no, give it another moment. There we are. You can thank me later."

Imryll tappedher foot to keep the chair rocking. Aleksy was curled up on their bed, asleep.

Drazhan paced the length of the room. Little Torian almost disappeared in his broad arms. His thumb brushed his son's head, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"How long will they be staying?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Owen and Farradyn? They are staying, aren't they?"

"Yes. Couldn't say."

"Which is it?"

"I don't know, Imryll."

"Why did they come?"

"I don't know."

"You seem far too worried not to know—or at least have a guess."

"It's not worry." He pressed his mouth to Torian's soft head. "They're our friends."

She stopped rocking and leaned in, but the soreness had her curling back into the soft cushion. "Then what?"

"What can you tell me about Tas and Owen?"

"Oh." Imryll puffed out. She'd almost forgotten. It seemed so long ago. "They had a brief dalliance on Duncarrow."

"What?"

"Wasn't much of a secret. According to Tas, he was completely different the morning after. Pretended like nothing happened and wouldn't even meet her eyes in the halls."

"They had an affair?" Drazhan's frown was full of doubt.

"It was one night. She was hurt by his rejection, but no more was said. She seemed fine after a couple of days. Never mentioned it again."

"Owen never said a word."

"I don't suppose he would have, seeing as he behaved like a scoundrel."

"You mean like Rahn with our Aesylt?"

Imryll stifled a laugh. Drazhan didn't mean it. He treated Rahn like a brother, but he would never stop fussing over Aesylt. "So what if they're not betrothed? The Vjestik are known for courting before formalities are involved."

"But why is what I want to know. He has my blessing, Imryll. Does he not want to wed her? How could he not want that?"

"Does he seem like a man who would ever be parted from her?"

He stopped pacing and shot her a pointed look. "You see my confusion."

"Draz, if she were unhappy, you'd know." Imryll grimaced as she stood, wobbly, and headed toward the bed, waving away his concern. "You've never troubled yourself with the rules of propriety. Let them... be what they are. Oh, are you still telling her all of tonight's details were my idea?"

Drazhan snorted.

"So that's a yes."

"Does it matter?"

"She knows the truth." Imryll climbed into bed beside Aleksy, moving him only enough to make space for herself. "I'll go see Tasmin first thing. She's already unsettled from something that happened with Lord Quintus. If I know her, she'll bury it all deep if she doesn't speak of it now."

"I think he's asleep," Drazhan said, tilting down for a careful look at Torian.

"He's been asleep for some time." Imryll's eyes closed. "Set him in his cradle and then you can tell me all about Aesylt's special night."

Tasmin wasoblivious to the wind. To the cold. Duncarrow had been perpetually cold, though rarely icy. Never frozen. Though she'd been born on the cursed isle, she hadn't been conditioned for the briny, chill winds, but she had inured herself to them, like all other injustices.

Foreign was the word that stuck in her chest, and it was how she felt, standing without shivers as she stood upon the battlements and lost herself to the passionate swirl of springtide flurries melting through the fog.

"My lady, it's not fit for you out here, the weather in such a state as it is," one of the guards said, a pleasant older gentleman she liked and who had no business being out in said cold at his advanced age. "Should've been a nicer eve, but they say the next few days will be warm enough."

"It suits me fine, Kilgore," she lied, offering the precise smile she knew would work. It was her famous smile, and it had worked on so many, in a diversity of ways. That same smile had caught Owen Strong's eyes from across the ballroom. Had invited him into her bed. And had given him the impression that he was not the first she'd lured with it, though he was. The first and only. An experienced woman wouldn't have thought twice or looked back.

Why he was in the Cross was almost too dark a mystery for her, especially on the heels of her visit with Lord Quintus, which had begun with a plea for alliance and ended with a demand for marriage. The events paralleled Imryll's visit to Whitechurch, almost three years earlier.

Imryll had abjectly refused the demand, then had fled, in the dead of night, in fear for her life.

"Can I at least fetch you another fur? A cover?"

"I won't be out here long," she said, extending her smile, which she'd refined to the point it nearly felt natural. Only her mother and Imryll recognized the difference between practiced joy and the genuine kind. "I saw your son tonight at the celebration for Aesylt. He'll be married soon, I understand?"

"Oh." Kilgore seemed to swell with pride in her recognizing such a thing. "Cassius is marrying up, and his mother and I are so pleased."

"A Voronov, I hear?"

"That's right. Baroness Brita's adopted daughter, Tessa. The one she rescued from ahen vodah after the mother drowned?"

Tasmin didn't know the story or the Vjestik word he'd used, but she nodded as if she did. It was better than stealing even a sliver of his delight with a question. "A sad tale with a joyful ending."

"Indeed. Indeed, and now the steward has offered the keep for—" Kilgore swiftly spun away. "Ah, sir, this isn't... I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Donnae ken if yer askin' about my family name or my intent, but ye can call me Owen, and I'm here for a word with Lady Tasmin."

"Don't know the name," Kilgore said hotly. "Don't know the man."

"Aye? Ask Steward Wynter. We're mates. Go way back."

The tension began in her toes, but it shot to her shoulders like a combustible. She'd chosen the battlements because it was the one place no one in the keep ever went if they didn't have to. The one place she'd figured Owen Strong, a salt and sand Southerlander, would not venture.

Only Imryll and her mother knew about the strange night she'd spent with Owen, but neither of them knew the full story. The worst of it.

"If Syr Strong wishes to enjoy the storm, he's welcome to it," Tasmin said, her head down, and started for the metal door leading back into the keep. Owen's thick fist curled around her arm and pulled her to a jarring stop. She looked down, in disgust, but he relented only a little.

"We're overdue for a palaver, you and me," Owen said. His breath warmed her neck, rocking her with a shiver.

"Lady Tasmin?" Kilgore's hand readied to draw his sword.

"You needn't stab him, Kilgore," she said, wincing in pain as she tore out of Owen's thick grasp. "Unless he follows me."

"Tasmina."

Her shoulders pinched back. That nickname. How it had awakened her once. How she hated it now. "You shouldn't have come here," she said and pushed through the door.

Once safely ensconced on the other side, Tasmin lifted her arm and screamed into it.

Rahn could hardly sit still,watching Aesylt enjoy the bread-and-fig pudding he'd spent hours learning to make in the kitchens. But it wasn't the food he was nervous about; it was everything he had planned after.

She was only faintly dubious that he'd borrowed use of a Petrovash cabin at the forest's edge for what he'd sold as a romantic nameday dinner, but she had accepted his thin explanation about privacy.

"Well, Adrahn. You continue to be an unraveling mystery to me," she said, holding her belly with a stuffed look. "Now you're a chef? What will you reveal next, that you're secretly a gilded blacksmith? A ravener?"

Rahn grinned and, for a moment, forgot how fast his heart was racing. "I may have turned on some charm with the kitchen staff." He chuckled at her narrowing eyes. "Or they took pity on me."

Aesylt's cheeks were flushed from the aftermath of an enormous meal. The fullness might slow her in the hour ahead, but it would give her energy too. Stamina. She'd need it. "They're a hardened bunch, so if they took pity on you, you musthave really left an impression."

"Tears often work in a pinch." He grinned.

She grinned back. Would she still be smiling if she knew what was moments ahead?

She asked for it.

It was time to find out if she meant it.

Aesylt groaned in contentment, sliding back in her chair. "Thank you. It was surprisingly so delicious. I hope you enjoy cooking, because you may be doing more of it."

"Don't get too comfortable." Rahn blotted his face with his napkin and pushed to his feet. Now. Or never. "Listen closely. I'm going to give you a head start, Aesylt. Ten minutes, not a second more. I wouldn't squander a single one of them, because I've had months to think about my strategy."

She corrected her posture. "What?"

"A ten-minute head start. You can go anywhere in the woods. You just can't leave them."

A slow, sly grin spread across her face as she caught up. Her eyes twitched. "And then what?"

"You have one hour to evade me." He meticulously undid each button on his vest, waiting until he was done to finish speaking.

She followed his every move, her eyes slowly dilating with interest.

"If I catch you before the hour is up, I decide your punishment. Nothing is off-limits."

"And when I evade you for the full hour?"

"You decide mine. Same rules—that is... There are none." He pulled an hourglass out of his pocket. It dangled on a chain he'd had made, and he slipped it around his neck but kept the glass steady. "You asked for intensity. You asked for violence. Once you leave this cabin, your consent to everything thereafter is implied and will not again be sought. Unless your life is at risk, I won't stop until I'm done with you, and I've had months to think about everything I want from this night." He tilted the hourglass. "Decide."

She slowly stood, watching him closely. With her eyes still following him, she went to the rack and skimmed her hands along the cloaks, choosing an economical one. One that would keep her warm enough but wouldn't slow her nearly as much as the others. Smart.

The rain outside would complicate things, but predators could hunt in any weather.

Rahn lifted the hourglass. Her eyes turned to saucers. She angled herself toward the door, her breaths short and choppy.

I want you to be my wulf again, but this time I want you to catch me.

When he tipped it, something shifted inside of him. "Better run."

Aesylt racedthrough the forest like she was running for her life.

Not only was the ground clear of snow for once, but the rain was obscuring every step she made, neatly covering her tracks. The advantage stoked her competitiveness, but winning wouldn't satiate her motivation. Rahn had more he was holding back, even from himself. She'd never wanted anything more than to see the dark side of him come out to play. The only way to entice it out of him was to give him a stage where he made all the rules, and she had no choice but to follow them.

The harder I make him work for it, the harder he'll be on me. The realization added flight to her step. She dipped left, snaking through trees, and then right, creating an illogical path he'd never think to follow.

Aesylt paused to catch her breath and listen for any signs he'd caught up. Nothing. He hadn't given her an hourglass of her own, but in her head, she'd been intermittently counting. The first ten minutes had come and gone; she was closer to twenty. A third of the way there.

She pushed on, elation carrying her faster and truer than she'd run in years. Her boots sailed off the ground with every stride, and before long, she was moving like a wulf herself, smooth and elegant and one with the forest.

Aesylt launched into a clearing that was familiar, though it took a moment of orientation to place it without all the snow. It was the tree that surfaced her recognition—the same one she'd sailed into. The one that had offered an illuminating evening with the man now giving her the chase she'd really wanted that night.

She glanced behind her, but there was still no sign he'd gained any ground. The quarry's edge was less perilous when she could actually see where she was stepping, and it gave her the nerve to inch closer to the edge.

The sight was distressing. For as terrified as she'd been clinging to that tree, had she sailed past it instead, the way to the bottom was far enough that she'd have had ample time to contemplate the end of her life before meeting it.

And my quiet, unassuming scholar climbed that tree so I didn't have to be alone. He hadn't hesitated.

She backed away and was evaluating her options when something hard and cold clamped over her mouth. Her feet kicked up, catching air, then bouncing off the ground as she was dragged overland back into the forest.

Her screams were muffled by the smell of freshly cured leather. Gloves. He wants you to fight, she thought and peeled her lips back, trying to nip him with her teeth, but he caught on and fastened himself tighter until she calmed.

The forest flew by, blurring. Her boots caught bushes... roots. Stinging pain rocked her when her ankle twisted, but her wulf was oblivious.

The stop was so abrupt, her stomach twisted. She found footing again, but seconds later, she was tripping and running from the force of him pushing her along. Just as she'd gotten a hang of the pace, she was slammed to a tree, and her breath exploded from her chest.

Her face immediately smarted from the scratchy bark. Blood beaded on her cheeks, and she thought, surely he'd address it, because he was a man who went wild when she had a skinned knee. But then he mashed her face against the wood and pinned it there as he tugged her skirt up over her waist with vicious insistence. She spat at the bark, tasting the damp earthy residue as she tried to make words, sounds, but he tensed his hand in warning, and she stopped.

"You thought you could run from me?" Rahn ripped her undergarments off with a single tear, followed by the sharp hiss of spit hitting a glove. He shoved up and into her. "That I wouldn't catch you?"

She screeched against the wood as he pinned her with the force of his tearing thrusts, and she realized, with a tiny spark of fear, that he was already becoming the wulf. Already shedding the flesh of the sensitive, devoted scholar who had killed the last man who had put hands on her.

He ripped her hair back so her face was aimed at the starry sky. The bowman was out, and she nearly laughed—nearly said it out loud—but then she gulped for air, choking on bark dust. Her groin brushed the tree repeatedly until she was wet, something he noted with a throaty moan.

Rahn bit down on the back of her neck and spilled into her. He held himself there, stilling so the pulsing release was the only sensation... the scorching, ferocious spend of a beast still playing with its kill.

Her clit throbbed in desperation when he ripped her away from the tree and threw her onto the ground.

Aesylt clambered back on her hands and feet, but he was ready for her resistance, stifling it with a bag thrust crudely over her head. She whipped around, sputtering in confusion, but was spun onto her belly with a slam. He yanked her hands up and over her head, thick rope sliding and tightening on her wrists. She tried to catch her breath but then she was off the ground again, thrown over something hard. His shoulder. Bile bubbled up from her throat and dribbled along her face, into her hair. His seed ran down her thighs.

Blind and bound, Aesylt could only watch the world pass by through the threading of the sack. It wasn't enough to even guess where he was taking her, but wherever he had in mind, the savage assault at the tree had only been a taste of the full experience.

With a start, Aesylt realized she was scared. He could do anything at all to her, and no one would ever know. No one was coming for her. As recently as earlier that night, she'd recognized she still knew so little about the man she loved, and what if she'd made a terrible mistake? What if she could unleash the beast but not put him back?

Those fears were the single greatest turn-on of her life.

Rahn slowed. The echo of hollow stone replaced the crunch of the forest. He lowered her to the hard ground, cradling her head on the way down—not as coarsely as he'd handled her at the tree, but far from gentle—and moved away. His steps echoed, getting closer... farther. He seemed to be fiddling with something.

"Where are we, Adrahn?"

No answer came. Her arms were extended back above her head, and she slid several feet as he pulled her, then secured her over a rock. He dug out more rope and tethered her bonds to it. Her hood tore away.

Rahn came around the other side of her and knelt between her legs. Her breath caught when he pulled out a knife and slashed it up her dress. The cold steel of the blunt end traveled her flesh as he sliced up into her bodice, until the final snap at her neckline. He ripped the fabric down both sides, exposing her naked body. She tensed in anticipation of the cold, but it didn't come. She was surprisingly quite warm.

A fire. We're in a cave. He really did plan this out.

Rahn stood over her, looking down. Gone was the scholar, the lover... her Adrahn. The wild spark in his eyes made her clench with dangerous desire. "Just remember, Aesylt, it was your idea not to have a way out." He gripped her ankles and spun her, twisting her arms in pain, until she was on her belly.

Aesylt moaned, spitting out rock and dust as she tried to contort to a more comfortable position. He yanked her back until she screamed, his cock sliding in from behind, and lifted her ass at the hips, ramming her into the ground. His thumbs spread her wider, the hurt exquisite and blinding. She no longer had any interest in the celestial realm, after everything that had happened, so explaining her injuries to her vedhma later would be fun.

"This cunt is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to destroy. Mine to put back together, in whatever way suits me." He pulled out all the way and crashed into her, the piercing collision sending a rush of dark spots into her vision. "You're going to regret asking for this."

"Never," Aesylt croaked, spitting more dust. "Nev—" He silenced her with another vicious slam.

He withdrew his cock with a wet pop, dropping her. She panted, grateful for a moment to catch her breath, but the world moved again, and she was on her back, her arms straight again but so tender, she wondered if they were strained.

She had only enough time to look up before his cock parted her mouth, squelching any objection as he straddled her face, gripped her head, and pumped himself down her throat.

Aesylt thrashed underneath him, choking and trying to catch his eyes. But they were closed, his head thrown back in thrall to the surrender she'd begged for. He abruptly slid out of her mouth, making her wheeze for air, and she noticed a flash of blood on his palm.

There was no forethought at all, just a wave of impetuous desire as she nipped up off the ground and latched her mouth onto it. She suckled, lapping his blood away and locking her eyes on his.

He tore his hand back and nursed it against the other, watching her in astonishment. His eyes skimmed her body, and she followed his gaze and saw she was covered in similar scratches. Her face had to be worse, for all the fire pulsing in her cheeks.

Rahn burrowed his face along her torso, licking and suckling. Aesylt arched her back, but he shoved her down, moving to the next wound, and the next. The suction drove her into a spiral she couldn't unwind from, and a sudden explosion between her legs made her let go and she slipped away, convulsing through the first orgasm of her life that hadn't required direct touch.

His hand seized her at the neck, shearing the pleasure. "I didn't give you permission to come."

Aesylt froze. It was Marek's face staring back at her.

"You're scared," he said, sounding more like Rahn. His hand constricted. "Another man touched you like this, and he died for it. I can still see my sword sliding through his heart from behind, feel it exploding under my blade. I can taste his surrender. Do you want to taste it for yourself? The power?"

She went limp, terrified to move at all. Even her thoughts disappeared.

"Only I can touch you like this. Me. And when you think of a hand at your neck, it will be my face you see. My cock impaling you until the darkness comes." Rahn unbound one of her hands and forced it between her legs. "Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me. No, don't look away from me, Aesylt. I want your eyes. On. Mine. Now."

Tears trickled from her eyes as she opened them and moved her gaze to his.

"Show me, Aesylt."

Her hand twitched. She shook her head.

"Show me."

She slid a finger down her length. A whimper stuttered in her throat, crushed by his hand.

Rahn nudged her legs wider with his thighs and lined himself up. He pitched his head back and slid slowly into her, then stopped when he reached the end.

Aesylt's eyes fluttered downward and became paralyzed by the sight of his cock holding her open while he choked her. Tremors passed down her shoulders and into her hand, which was still moving, still twisting and flicking the way she always did when she fantasized of him, just as the monster had commanded.

But he wasn't Marek.

The hand at her neck belonged to the one who had ended that fear once and for all.

The one who would deliver no hurt she hadn't asked for.

Rahn's lips peeled back and he rocked forward, finding his pace. Aesylt's shallow breaths came faster as the horrors melted away, as the hand at her neck became not a noose but a means of release. She worked her fingers faster, whining, tears rolling down her cheeks in waves, darkness pulling at the edges of her dimming vision.

His fingers pinched her windpipe. A scream was trapped in her throat, never to be released as she convulsed against the dusty ground. She'd never been pushed so far toward ecstasy. Never been so in love with her wulf as she was then.

He released her neck, and a second orgasm took hold, and she whispered, hoarse, "No. More. Please."

Rahn fastened both hands at her neck and pumped faster, baring his teeth with a threaded howl that bounced off the cave walls. His thrusts were so frenzied, she lost whatever breath she'd gained, and the world slipped into darkness. Warmth surged inside of her, and she came again, her contractions pulling him deeper, solidifying the bond they were always meant to have.

Distantly, she felt him slide out of her. She blinked the world away, but it came back. All she knew was the buzz spreading along her flesh, the utterly stunning awareness she was alive—not just alive but elevated to a higher plane of existence. Another world within her own. One that, unlike the celestial realm, was entirely hers and wholly safe.

Rahn slid a finger between her legs and brought it to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around his finger and sucked, tasting him... tasting herself. She was almost sad when he removed it again, but not for long, for soon his tongue was lapping the same place he'd dipped his finger, and the resulting crash was so much gentler, a soft, palpitating release that nearly put her to sleep.

Her mind registered the pain spreading over her, nearly every inch, but she was beyond that now, in a place where pain had no power unless fueled by love. She had nothing left to give, but he had nothing more to take either. She'd asked him to bare his true self, to trust she could handle it. He'd delivered her of a memory nearly as haunting as the Nok Mora, and she wanted more.

But not tonight.

Tonight she wanted to watch her lover through the haze of her dreamy lucidity and know she was safe.

Rahn was relievedthe water wasn't too hot. He'd left it warming over the fire but had removed it when he'd brought Aesylt to the cave, to give it a chance to cool. He wanted the perfect temperature for her tender flesh, which would need healing the moment they returned to the keep. After everything that had happened in Voyager's Rest, they'd agreed the celestial realm was best left to itself.

He hoped there was a vedhma with enough discretion to keep the matter private, but he was beyond such concerns. Shame had no place in their love, however they expressed it.

She was curled up on the furs he'd left ahead of time, sipping from the thermos of cider he'd packed in the bag he thought of as "needs of the aftermath." Until the chase had begun, he couldn't know how far he'd take things. Really, until he'd actually placed his hands on her neck, he hadn't believed himself capable of it—no matter how loving his intentions. There was always a chance she'd react horribly and never trust him again. But Marek haunted his nightmares too. No dead man should have that much power.

Rahn sopped the warm rags atop her flesh, wincing on her behalf when she twitched at his touch. Perhaps he had gone too far.

She placed a hand on his arm, with a look that said I'm fine, but her eyes told another story.

"This is worse than I meant for it to be." He dug into his satchel for the pot of ointment he'd stolen from the infirmary and spread it over her abrasions. "I should have asked more questions of you, to know what you were looking for."

"This." She scratched her throat, passing over the red rings his hands had left. They'd turn purple soon. He couldn't decide whether to be excited or horrified about that. "This is what I wanted."

Rahn dug out a soft tunic and linen trousers he'd found in her bureau. They were more suitable for lounging indoors than convalescing in a cave, but her skin needed to breathe. At least he'd had the foresight for that. "Here, let's get you dressed."

"Aww," she said and he laughed, relieved he hadn't crushed her humor. She patiently let him dress her and then curled up, nestling her head on his lap, just as she had that fateful night almost a year ago. "So, same time tomorrow?"

Rahn tried to smile. Everything about her tickled his impulse for joy. But if he'd been nervous about releasing his inner wulf, he was petrified to approach the next part.

"What's wrong?" She looked up at him with so much concern gathering in her eyes, he knew he couldn't drag it out a moment longer.

Rahn cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her, just as he'd wanted to do that night in the tree. He'd denied himself so many of life's pleasures, for reasons that made little sense now, if they ever had. "That was the most sensual thing I've ever done. But now my heart is so full of the need to just love you."

Aesylt smiled, kissing him back, but he shook his head.

"No, Aesylt. Not just now. Forever." He peeled back to see her expression, but she was guarding it. Waiting for him to finish. "I know you don't want children, and I can appreciate that, for I know nothing of being a son, let alone a father. But how... How do you feel about marriage?"

Aesylt slowly sat up. "Has Drazhan gotten to you?"

"No." He reached for her face and rolled his forehead against hers. "You have. In only the best ways. And if marriage isn't for you, it will change nothing. We can go on as we have, and I'll be perfectly content. I am perfectly content. All I want is you. All I need is you." He kissed her, breathing her in. "But if you might consider becoming the wife of a lowly scholar, he could never know a greater honor."

She pursed her mouth and looked at her lap. "Well, I'll have to break the bad news to Pieter."

Rahn chuckled in immediate relief. "Oh, please, let me."

"You don't have your heart set on a lavish wedding, do you?"

"Gods, no. Unless it's what you want?"

"Ancestors, no!"

"Something private then?"

"Just a hundred of our closest friends?" Aesylt slowly grinned. "You know Drazhan will just keep adding names and adding names and adding names, blaming Imryll..."

"We've certainly learned the man knows how to throw a party."

"Who would've guessed?" She snuggled against him with a contended sigh. "If you're serious about this level of commitment, you're also accepting that you've truly set the bar high with this nameday. An observatory, a delicious meal, a dramatic chase, and a proposal of marriage? Impossible to top."

He wrapped his arm around her and gave her a gentle, careful squeeze, mindful they still hadn't properly tended her injuries. "I've signed up for worse challenges."

"Well, I accept, on one very sensitive condition."

"Which is?"

"Forget the nameday challenge. I know what I want every year."

Rahn kissed her scalp. "I can guess."

"Save your creativity for the variety you'll need to keep me on my toes. You won this year, but now that I know your game, don't expect to win ever again."

"So you are issuing a challenge."

"What do you mean, Scholar? I am the challenge."

Rahn grinned. "Accepted."

She snuggled back into his lap. "Thank you for tonight, Rahn. All of it."

"Thank you, Aesylt." He curled down over her. "Volemthe auvjek, my industrious, resourceful little squirrel."

He felt her chuckle on his leg. "Volemthe auvjek, my sexy, wulfy scholar."

Rahn glanced into the rainy night, his eyes bleary, his heart full. He brushed her hair back and let it slip through his fingers, drinking in the skip in his pulse and the peace in his soul. "Happy Nameday, Squish."

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There'splenty more of the Kingdom-verse to explore! If you want more of the frozen north, you'll love The Raven and the Rush. Want another sensitive hero? Corin in the The Sylvan and the Sand will steal your heart. If you want more of Rahn's possessive side, Asterin is all that and more in The Altruist and the Assassin. After another sheltered heroine and strong found family? The Melody and the Master has this and more. You can also move on to the The Kingless Crown, the beginning of the Kingdom of the White Sea Trilogy, the epic saga that started it all.

Learn more about all these stories (including bonus content, guides, art, content advisories, and more) on www.sarahmcradit.com

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