A Breath of Sunlight Read online

  “So you can break your promise and touch me in my unconscious state? I’m not swallowing whatever it is. I will sooner cut off your hand.”

  He and Calle exchanged another look. The old man raised his eyebrow as if they conversed silently.

  Finally, Calle crouched down to her level. The kindness in his eyes remained, along with anxious fear. “I don’t think my heart can handle this job if you are screaming. Take it for my sake. And I swear I will not let anyone touch you except me. Not Cian. Not Avonia. Not Inari. No one.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise. And when you wake up, you will be much closer to flying again than ever before.”

  Hesitancy gave her pause. She wanted to fly again. She feared her injury made it impossible. But being healed by men went against her valkyrie ways.

  Then again, so did her entire association with Calle.

  At last, she nodded, took the vial, and downed its contents in one swallow. In only a few moments, a heaviness pressed on her head, a fog of dizziness clouding her eyes. Panic fumbled around in her mind at losing control of herself, of her body, her mind, her consciousness.

  She stumbled to her feet, but only managed to knock over several unfamiliar instruments on the table.

  The old man reached for her. She snapped open her daggers instinctively and took a swipe. She missed. Or at least she thought as much. Her world swayed, so she couldn’t tell. Her movements were sluggish as if she moved through water. Her throat constricted and the air in her lungs felt heavy.

  First her arms drooped, and then her knees collapsed. A pair of hands caught her.

  And then darkness.

  ****

  “What’s wrong with her?” a voice cried behind Calle, and he spun to find both Avonia and Typheal in the doorway—almost as if they couldn’t stay away from their daughter for more than a few minutes.

  “She’s receiving medical treatment,” Cian reassured as he pulled out a white handkerchief. The tip of his nose dripped blood from the scratch Skaja had delivered with her blade. He was lucky to be alive. The moment he pressed the handkerchief to his face, he turned on Calle. “How are you still alive? She tried to kill me within five minutes of meeting me.”

  “Me too.” He chuckled, now laying her down carefully on the cot. Avonia rushed forward as if to help, but he held up a quick hand to stop her. “I promised I wouldn’t let anyone touch her. I intend to keep my promise.”

  “There must be something I can do.”

  “Perhaps you can assist Cian. But you mustn’t touch her.”

  Cian nodded while he still held his bleeding nose. “We must hurry. The elixir won’t last long.”

  Calle rolled up his sleeves and placed his hands on her bare back just below her right wing. “Tell me what to do.”

  When Skaja woke, everything hurt...less. The arch of her wings pulsed lightly with pain, but not much. Her shoulder blade obeyed her when she tried to move it, and her wing no longer hung at a precarious angle.

  She bolted upright and found herself in a dark room, lying on a bed with soft sheets. Her hand instinctively reached for the other side of the bed, expecting to touch a sleeping Calle’s shoulder. Only...he wasn’t there.

  She nearly laughed at herself, but she didn’t refrain from rolling her eyes. How was it possible a valkyrie like herself had come to depend on his constant, comforting presence?

  Slowly, she edged off the bed and lifted her wings. They obeyed her. The muscles in her back pulled in protest when she spread them on either side of her. She flapped them once, twice, before pulling them back to her body.

  Tears of gratitude pricked her eyes. Calle had done this for her. She was indebted to him.

  The last place she remembered was the healing quarters. If Calle had kept his promise, he must have carried her back to this room himself.

  Noticing her dagger harness on the bedside table, she picked it up, along with both daggers, and slipped out the door wearing only her dress and bare feet. A part of her wished to find herself wearing Calle’s clothes again.

  Darkness slithered on all sides of her like crawling shadows. They followed her as she crept through the hallways, blindingly trailing the faint tether that connected hers and Calle’s heartbeats.

  She frowned as she crept down one hallway, and then another, her feet silent against the cold stone floor. Wherever Calle was, it was far from her room. Not being near enough to protect him concerned her.

  The light from two torches flickered on the wall further down the corridor, moving closer and closer.

  By instinct, she ducked behind the corner and tucked herself as close to the wall as possible. She held her breath as two guards passed by with swords clinking against metal armor. Only when the light disappeared around the bend did she roll her eyes.

  “What am I doing?” she whispered into the darkness. “I’m allowed to be here.”

  Still, she continued forward silently and avoided notice until she stood in front of a plain wooden door. The golden handle appeared to be rusted, even in the pitch-black corridor. She grasped the handle...

  And paused.

  Shaking her head, she murmured again, “What am I doing?”

  Her gratitude could wait until morning rather than her waking Calle up just to say thank you.

  She slid against the wall until she sat on the ground. Her feathers ruffled around her, getting comfortable to pass a night’s sleep in the hallway when the door opened suddenly, and Calle’s head poked out.

  “Why are you in the hallway?” Even in the darkness, his eyes twinkled with amusement.

  With a shrug, she played off her confusing attachment to the fae prince. “Didn’t want Inari to make good on her threats. Your hair looks better on your head.”

  “I agree.” He paused. “You know, the stone looks awfully cold. It’s warmer in my bed.”

  “Is that an observation or an invitation?”

  He grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness. “Obviously, an invitation. I would have stayed with you in your room, but people were watching. Your father put your room way on the other side of the fortress. I don’t quite appreciate it.”

  Laughter escaped her, but she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and glanced back and forth down each end of the hallway. Silence.

  Flickering torchlight steadily moved back in her direction like the first time. Before the guards could catch her outside the prince’s room, she slipped inside, and he softly closed the door behind her.

  “It better be warm,” she said as she climbed onto the bed and snuggled beneath the covers, “because my feet are cold.”

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “I’m not sure. My room was dark.”

  His smile gleamed again as he joined her beneath the covers. “Always, always have a weapon on you, you said. I thought the same rule applied to having shoes in case you need to run or something.”

  “I can fly. I don’t need shoes.”

  Her heart tumbled in her chest as he moved closer to her, his arm draped around her waist and his warm feet covering her cold ones. His warmth seeped into her. Beckoning. Inviting. She felt safe and comfortable in his arms, but something else lay beneath the surface of her skin. Searing heat. A desire for more snuggles and laughter and kisses.

  “I can feel your heart,” he murmured as he gently trailed a finger across her eyebrow, down her cheek, and caressed her jaw. “I think you might actually like me.”

  “That’s your own heart you’re feeling.” Though the way her pulse pounded in her ears betrayed her.

  “Most definitely a bit of both.” His mouth quirked with disappointment. “The soul bond is already starting to fade between us. I rather enjoy this connection with you.”

  “Why?” she dared to whisper.

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he gazed into her eyes as he trailed his fingers through her hair, over her shoulder, and caressed the tips of her wings. The intimate touch of her feathers spurred a fast-paced, irregular rhythm in her chest. She tipped her face up to level it with his. An invitation.

  One he didn’t hesitate at.

  He kissed her lips softly as if they were two rose petals brushing together in a gentle breeze. Although she wasn’t very good at this, she tried to mimic what he’d done. Her hand trailed up his back and her fingers tangled in his hair.

  He released a groan against her mouth and deepened the kiss. Her insides quaked in response to his touch. To his kiss. A foreign desire erupted within her. To touch him everywhere. To be touched everywhere.

  Her hands slipped under his shirt, feeling his toned muscles and chest hair beneath her fingers. His skin burned with a desire to match her own, their hearts beating in sync. Their tongues danced in a passionate frenzy. Their bodies fit together like midnight skies and starlight. He stroked her wings and her hair, and when he grabbed her arse, she inhaled sharply in surprise and broke the kiss, stopping them from going any further.

  “Sorry, too much?” he whispered beneath her. His dark amber eyes pooled with desire, and she felt as if a single wrong word from her would snuff the light all too easily.

  “No.” She bit her lip, but a smile broke through anyway as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I am simply not accustomed to being touched by a man.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “By women?”

  “No,” she laughed, falling onto her elbow, her head resting against her hand as she gazed down at him. “Not by women either. Though Inari...”

  “You don’t need to tell me about her romantic pursuits,” he chuckled, and she closed her eyes and sighed when his fingers brushed her cheek. His voice turned into a raspy whisper. “You are so beautiful, Skaja.”

  She flicked him in the shoulder. “You most definitely ar
e a cat if you can see me in the dark.” As she placed her hand over his heart, she sobered. “Thank you for healing me. My wings hardly hurt anymore. You...aren’t like any man I’ve been led to believe was evil. You are good and kind. And...I’m sorry for trying to kill you in the Pits.” A surprising sadness washed over her, and her chin trembled when she thought of a life without Calle in it. Why did it hurt so much? “It would have been a horrible mistake.”

  Taking a few moments to reply, Calle reached for the covers pooled at their ankles, and she spotted the gray and white tattoo of a snowy mountain range before he tucked her in beside him and held her close to his body.

  He kissed her forehead, her nose, and lightly kissed her lips. “I can’t be too upset when you rescued me and are with me now like this. I’m happy. I haven’t been this happy in a very long time.”

  “Me neither.” Comfort and joy charged the following silence in the room. Calle’s body heat enveloped her, lulling her into relaxation. She thought he might have fallen asleep when his breathing deepened, but she ventured to ask, “I saw the tattoo on your ankle. What does it mean? And where are the other bad boy tattoos?”

  “Bad boy?” he laughed. Seconds later, a magical golden orb floated in the air with a gesture of his hand, casting a yellow light over his face. He sighed. “I’m not proud of them, but no one is perfect. They are reminders of my past and how I can do better in my future.” He gestured to the foot of the bed. “I left my friend stranded in the mountains to save myself. It was a selfish thing to do. When I got back to the castle, they sent out a search party. My friend lived. For a few years, at least. And then he got killed by a valkyrie.”

  She grimaced. “I hope more than anything it wasn’t me.”

  With a shake of his head, he replied, “It wasn’t. She had lighter skin. I only wish I had done something to stop it.” He sighed, but then pulled his waistband down a few inches to reveal the tattoo below his left hip bone—a gray rose with drops of red on the petals. “Confessing to an elder who is also your tattoo artist is like confessing to a priest. My friends dared me to try to seduce the daughter of a visiting foreigner. Things went poorly when I took her to the falls. She...fell in and the falls swept her over the cliff. She was gravely injured, but she survived. Our visitors left quickly after that. I am ashamed of myself to this day.”

  “How old were you?” she murmured, tracing the buttons of his shirt.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Fifteen...” Flashes of red streaked across her vision as memories assaulted her mind. “When I was fifteen, I killed my first man. It was awful. He’d been a lone traveler. Hadn’t done anything wrong, necessarily. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She swallowed while trying to push the horrid images from her mind. “I like to think I’d have been a better person if Paula had never taken me. Perhaps we would have grown up as friends. Perhaps I would have protected instead of killed.”

  “There is still time to change.” He stroked his fingers up and down her spine. “The past is not there to haunt us, but to help us. To learn from it. To become better.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you truly believe that?”

  His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I try my best to. It’s not always easy.”

  Those words ran through her mind as she lay her head on his shoulder. “Then I will try as well. To move forward. To become better.”

  He kissed her head. “It’s all we can do.”

  “Get up! You have a lot to do today,” a woman said in a sing-song voice moments before a bright light blinded Skaja. Her eyes flew open right as Calle groaned and turned away.

  Light entered the room from what looked to be windows, likely an illusion in the underground fortress. Her mother, Avonia, turned but then froze. “Oh!” Her eyes widened in shock as she looked from her, to Calle, and back to her where they cuddled on the bed.

  “Five more minutes,” Calle groaned again. He reached for Skaja’s wing and spread it so her feathers bathed his face in shadow to block out the bright intrusion.

  Avonia’s mouth moved, but no sound escaped. Although Skaja’s daggers lay on the bed side table only a foot away, she knew her mother was no threat. So instead, she rested her head back on the pillow beside Calle while watching her mother warily. Embarrassment heated her cheeks, though she felt like she had done nothing wrong.

  “What...?” her mother finally breathed. “What are you two doing? Together? In here?”

  He yawned, exposing all his teeth to her. “Obviously, she was scared of the dark. Came in here to bother me. Didn’t get much sleep because she snores.”

  Skaja laughed and kicked him in the foot. “I do not. You slept like a valkyrie after midnight watch. Why are you so tired?”

  He yawned again. “Other than you chatting my ear off all night? I’m making up for six years’ worth of bad sleep.” He started drifting off, but she kicked him in the shin. “Ow!”

  “Fall asleep again and it will be my knee to your groin.”

  He opened his eyes to glare at her. “Coming from you, I know you’re serious.”

  At last, he shifted in the bed until he sat up and his bare feet smacked the floor. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them all night, similar to hers. “Brr! This place is cold. Brings back some rather unpleasant memories.” His hair stuck out in all directions, his eyelids halfway closed.

  Avonia cleared her throat. “Prince Calle, you’re needed in the council room. I’ll just...” She blinked a couple times in confusion as if she didn’t know what to do. “I’ll step outside for a minute.”

  The moment the door closed behind her, Calle said, “Your poor mother. Can’t chastise a prince for sleeping in the same bed with her daughter. Can’t chastise her daughter because there is no motherly relationship there.”

  Guilt swam like piranhas through her blood. Though, it wasn’t her fault they had no relationship. It was Paula’s fault. She didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know if she wanted to.

  “I’m glad it wasn’t your father,” he continued as he rifled through his drawers. “Or another male servant.”

  “I already promised I wouldn’t harm anyone while I’m here.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes still squinting through the haze of bright light. It seemed even after a few months of being above ground, he wasn’t quite used to it. “I know you will intentionally keep that promise. But what about unintentionally? Your first instinct is to protect yourself by killing.”

  She frowned because he was right. “It will take some time, Calle.”

  “I know.” Despite his squinting eyes, his expression softened. “I never thought any of this would be easy. But I’m glad you are here.”

  “Me too.” Nervous? Yes. Uncertain? Yes. Uncomfortable? Also, yes. But still glad. And she was grateful to him for making this transition easier. “Where do I fit in here?” she asked as she slid off the bed and stretched her wings. A smirk grew across her mouth when she caught him watching with wide, mystified eyes.

  After several blinks, he said, “I don’t know how to answer that for you. In another life, you would have been a personal guard to the royal family. But we’re in this life instead. I don’t want you as my guard.”

  Her wings ruffled as she took his comment as an insult. “Why? You don’t think I can protect you?”

  He chuckled and leaned one shoulder against the wardrobe as he gazed across the room at her. “I warned you about the blood oath. Harpies are prideful when it comes to their duties. A harpy must ask to be released from a blood oath because it is an insult to suggest otherwise. I should have given you a choice when I released you from the oath.”

  “Yes, you should have. A choice would have been nice.”

  With a sigh, he shook his head and gave her a look sad enough to twist her gut. “You tried to give your life to save mine. I absolutely will not let it happen again.”

  “I would have done it even without the oath.”

  Shocked silence.

  But it was true. Just the thought of him coming to any harm created an ache inside her heart.

  With a start, she realized it was her own heart she felt, and not Calle’s. She couldn’t feel his heart at all. The temporary soul bond had vanished.