He smiled and laid his forehead against hers. “Say it again,” she heard him whisper.
Her hands wrapped around his neck beneath his hair, and she pulled back just slightly so she could see his eyes.
And then she pressed her lips to his.
Ancient enemy races, the Queen of Promise and Venari King of the South, kissing before every race in Haerland.
She felt him smile against her lips, and he grasped her tightly in his arms before picking her up off the ground.
Aydra didn’t care that everyone in the room was staring at them. She didn’t care that the music had stopped playing, that a bewildered intensity had filled the air. All, except for the Blackhands, who’s noises of cat-calls and whistles were echoing around the room, were silent.
Kissing him in front of every being in Haerland was the best way she knew how to express how much she loved him.
Her feet hit the ground, and he wrapped a hand in her cheek as he pulled back, a grin spread over his features. “So much for restraint,” he mumbled.
She huffed amusedly under her breath. “You should know by now, restraint has little place in my core.”
He pulled her flush against him again, and his nose nudged hers. “My Queen.”
The words once more sent chills down her spine as she inhaled the forest scent of him. “My King.”
“Ahem.”
The deliberate clearing of someone’s throat brought her back to the reality of the room. Every couple around them was staring. Aydra caught Nadir’s gaze, knowing he was the one that had cleared his throat, and he gave her an amused wink from where he stood. Calls from the Blackhands of ‘Get a room!’ and whistling continued. But it was the silence of her own people that made Aydra’s stomach knot.
Aydra caught Lex’s eyes towards the door, and she gave her a large grin. Aydra fought the returning smile and stepped back from Draven to look around at her own people, who looked as though they were frozen to the spot on which they stood.
“Why have we stopped dancing? Has the band suddenly died or is that what they are asking for with this silence?” Her eyes cut to the corner where the band was sitting, and at an instant, they started back up.
A few of the Blackhands started trying to dance again, but the Dreamers they stood with were rooted to the floor. They continued to stare at the pair.
Aydra’s eyes wandered around them, meeting every Dreamer’s gaze. Her jaw clenched. “If you value breath, you’ll dance,” she warned.
Slowly, the people took each others hands, and once more the room filled with moving bodies all around them.
Draven’s brows were raised when she turned back to him. She heard a growl emit from his throat as he wrapped his arms full around her waist and bent his head. “I love when you talk like that,” he muttered into her hair.
She smiled and nudged his nose. “Wait until tonight,” she whispered.
And so they danced. They danced until it was only they and the Blackhands left in the room.
And when they retired for the evening, her body surrendered to a restless ache that she swore made her heart pump faster, her body more sensitive to his touch. A night different from other nights, one where they allowed their love to live in their bodies together, not simply a lust-filled passion, but more.
Because she couldn’t stop kissing him. She couldn’t stop touching him. Her sitting on his lap on the lounger as he caressed her body, moving to the bed and to every surface. As long as she was touching him, she was free. His skin felt of a radiant heat on hers she couldn’t explain. It was an overwhelming feeling she never wanted to be rid of, a race of her heart that made her feel alive. An out of body alive that she had to remind herself was real more than once.
This was the home she’d been missing her entire life.
Wherever he was.
And she swore it was the happiest day she would ever know.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
AYDRA AND DRAVEN met with the staff early before the sun so that they could instruct them on how to set up the room for the meeting that afternoon.
It was the largest gathering of minds Magnice had ever seen.
The four royals of Magnice. The Venari King and his Second. The Nitesh and her army commander. Nadir and Lovi Piathos. The seven Blackhand Elders. The Bedrani Council. And finally, every Dreamer Noble and company commander of the Dreamer army.
A table set for thirty-four was not an easy feat.
Aydra and Draven were the only ones who knew where to sit everyone so that a war did not break out over the last roasted turkey leg.
They helped the servants create a great rectangle with the tables. Ten persons each on the longest sides, seven on the other two. She made a point to have the Blackhand Elders on one side, opposite the Nitesh and Honest.
But when she sat her own chair beside Draven’s facing opposite where Rhaif was to be sat, Draven raised his brows.
“I thought we were keen on not starting a war,” he said.
Her lips pressed together, and she fought a smile. “I like to look my enemies in the eye when bringing them to their knees.”
A low growl emitted from his throat. “It is entirely too early in the day for you to be speaking like that.”
She almost laughed, and she continued instructing the servants where to put chairs. “My sister will be beside me, Dorian beside Rhaif on the opposite side with the Council surrounding on both sides. We’ll have the Nobles on either side of my sister and Balandria.”
“You’re giving Balandria a spot at the table?” he asked.
“She’s your next King,” Aydra confirmed. “She deserves it.”
A sleepy Dorian strode into the room then, apparently unaware that they were prepping the room for the meeting. He stopped mid-yawn and frowned around him.
“What’s happening…” he managed.
“Good
