“Will there be anything else?”
“Get in touch with your usual supplier. We can’t have people going hungry longer than they need to.”
“I will,” she said. “And…thank you.”
He scraped a hand over his beard, suddenly self-conscious. “For what?”
“Thinking of us, of course. Old Lord Talfayen never stepped foot in a kitchen, and he lived well over five hundred years.”
Mumbling a response he hoped made sense, Raff made his escape and drank all his tea in solitude. It felt like he had been waiting for Thalia for a thousand years.
At dawn, she finally came, in a vehicle painted in Gilbraith colors. When she stepped out into the courtyard, Raff went to her at a run, ignoring the dirt and the bloodstains. He picked her up and twirled her. In his arms, she felt warm and perfect, but he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t hold onto her because she might melt into seafoam or shimmer into a sunbeam that disappeared when he blinked.
“I’m taking her,” he said to Ferith, currently climbing out of the Rover.
“Please do.”
Thalia didn’t fight as he carried her bridal-style toward their quarters. “We need to talk,” she said.
In a way, that was worse than kicking and screaming. Those words weighed as much as four huge stones, but he kept moving. Past the cheering throng, onward to the dim corridor that led to their room. The fire in the hearth was nearly burned down, just ashes from tending it the night before.
“About what?”
“Our future.”
Frantically, he tried to remember exactly what the fucking contract said. Now that she’d secured her crown, did that she mean she wanted him to go? I’m supposed to stay for three months, I think. Hell, he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong—that she’d leave with such an ice-cold note.
Raff folded his arms across his chest, knowing he looked defensive, but he was starting to get pissed. No greeting, no apology? She’s the one who left.
“Go ahead,” he said.
“I want to strike the no-fidelity clause from our agreement.”
That startled him so much he almost fell over, and he clutched the wall in a vain attempt to recover the composure he was trying to project. “What?”
“I’ve thought about it, and I’m an only child. I can’t help that. It means I’m completely opposed to sharing.”
“Sharing…me?”
“That’s what I said,” she snapped.
“Do you think I’m sleeping around or something?”
She lifted her pointed chin, and that look was pure adorable spite. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Sky, and I don’t care. It stops now. I’m claiming you.”
What the—oh.
Realization filtered down slowly, and he put the pieces together of what she must have seen—and how wrong her conclusions had been. Amusement and tenderness vied for dominance, and he savored both those feelings, because her aggravation meant she cared. A lot. That note hadn’t been cold. She’d written it while she was pissed as hell.
Damn, I love this woman.
“Like a tract of land?” he suggested.
“Exactly. I’m planting my flag.”
“What about the agreement?”
“We’ll renegotiate.”
“What if we just burn it and be together? We’ll be here when we need to be, and in Pine Ridge when that’s right.”
“I want to meet your father,” she said softly. “And Catrin, of course.”
“You’ll hate him. He’s awful. He’ll probably insult you. A lot.”
Thalia smiled. “I can take it. If you hadn’t noticed, I’m pretty damn tough.”
“That you are. You’re also brilliant, beyond lovely, and you’ve become every bright star in the night sky of my life.”
He moved to pull her into his arms, but she stopped him with a look. “Really? You actually said that?”
“Too much?”
The sparkle in her eyes said she thought he was charming but would die before admitting that she liked his flavor of cheese. “Just a bit.”
“Then how about…I love you. And…please don’t walk out on me again.”
“Better.”
There was a lot more to say, but Raff wanted to fuck. She smelled like blood and violence, and it shouldn’t have been so hot. “Looks like you saw some action. Are you hurt?”
“Nothing major. I’ll be fine.”
“Anything you want to say before I put your mouth to better use?” That was so filthy he couldn’t believe he’d said it, but her eyes glittered even more with sheer, delicious lust.
“Mm, just this.”
He listened as she explained that she had been wrong about her gift—that it was luck after all. She told him everything that he’d missed and how she’d activated her power, and that the bombing saved her at exactly the right moment. Possible, he supposed, but it might be coincidence, too.
Raff cocked his head. “How can you be sure?”
“Because,” Thalia whispered. “I married you.”
Since he remembered saying that to her before, it was the perfect answer.
30.
Thalia tried to lead Raff toward the bathroom, but he pulled back on her arm, so she spun into his arms. It was a slick move, practiced, but she wouldn’t think about all the times he must’ve used it to perfect the maneuver. Instead, she’d focus on how well she fit against him and how delicious he smelled, soap and clean air with just a hint of wood smoke.
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll forget what I needed to say,” Raff warned.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m guessing you saw me comforting Sky and took off in a snit. Without letting me explain. That shit stops now. We’re going to have a relationship built on mutual trust and excellent communication.”
“Such lofty aspirations,” she teased.
“I’m serious, woman.”
She couldn’t believe that she even liked hearing that from him. “Such a wonder when I have it on excellent authority that you rarely are.”
“Well, I’m dead set on this…and you.” While she watched, he searched until he found their marriage contract and fed it to the dying fire, page by page. “Now that’s done, you should understand that Sky is like family, a pup who comes to me when she’s scared.”
“Something happened?” Thalia asked.
“Seems like the stress awakened her as a seer. She had a vision where…” He hesitated, but
