A Breath of Sunlight Read online

  Only a few minutes later, Calle turned the corner. He stopped when he noticed her on the bench, and his worried expression melted into relief. He approached and sat beside her. She didn’t stop him.

  “Sorry,” he murmured, giving her a guilty grimace. “It was supposed to be a joke. Unfortunately, I have a higher opinion of my wit than you do.”

  “Saying you wanted to marry me was a joke?”

  “No, that’s very real.”

  She recalled the golden rose she’d unintentionally smashed to the ground. “I thought you only wanted to court me.”

  “True, I do want to do that too. But I want more with you.” He reached out to touch her but hesitated as if giving her the opportunity to pull away. She didn’t. His hand cradled her face, and she couldn’t help but lean into the warmth his palm offered. His amber eyes gazed at her with kindness and admiration. “I love you, Skaja.”

  Her heart rolled in a pile of emotions ranging from excitement to nervousness to uncertainty. “Even if I threatened to rip your head off?” she joked, though her cracking voice betrayed the tears rising to the surface.

  “Even then.” He kissed her cheek. Heat climbed into her face, but perhaps it had never left. He kissed the corner of her mouth. A sigh of contentment escaped. And then his lips claimed hers. Gentle. Sweet. When he pulled away, he left her breathless and longing for more.

  Her voice trembled. “Am I supposed to say it back?”

  “Only if you feel it.”

  “I don’t know what I feel.”

  “That’s fine.” The back of his fingers trailed across her cheek, then her jaw as his gaze flitted over her face. “I wanted you to know I would never marry any of those women. It’s a tradition for those in Heulwen to choose their own brides, and the council gave me such an opportunity, but even I can recognize when something feels unnatural and forced.”

  Avonia’s words rushed to her mind. He mustn’t know our reasoning behind it. Betraying Calle’s trust was much worse than betraying her mother’s.

  “There’s something you should know.” She captured his hand to force his gaze on her. “My mother doesn’t want you to be aware of why they want you to marry. They think it would center your focus to battle your brother if you had something you needed to protect. While her words might be true, I can’t help but feel like she’s hiding something else.” She squeezed his fingers. “She may be my mother but...be careful, Calle.”

  He frowned. It certainly didn’t suit him. “I have reason enough to fight. I already said I would lead.”

  “Then lead.” She gripped his arms and gazed earnestly into his eyes. “Don’t wait for them to tell you what to do. Don’t be a puppet who bows to their whims. You are a prince! And someday, you will be a king. A good king. I cannot help but notice you doubt yourself. Don’t. March in there. Command the room. Make plans. Execute the plans.”

  “But...” He bit his lip. “I don’t know enough about the situation.”

  “Then learn. We’ll spend today interviewing people, counting stock and heads, and I will learn the layout of the castle. We can do this, Calle. You can do this.”

  “I’m not sure I can. Everyone expects me to...kill my brother. When the time comes, what if I can’t?”

  Softly, she pointed her finger to his chest, right over his heart. “You do what is best for you and your kingdom. Don’t let anyone else tell you what that is. This recent meeting is a prime example of their flowery words and secrets and control. They think they control you. Show them they don’t.” She absently stroked his chest and lowered her voice. “Take initiative. Make plans. Execute the plans. Things don’t happen when people sit around arguing.”

  His fingers grazed her hips. “You are very good at this. A natural leader. You have a lot of talents.” The melancholy in his voice betrayed him. He must think he possessed no talents at all.

  She tipped his chin up so they once again maintained eye contact. “You may not be the best with the sword or with leadership, but you are charismatic. People are drawn to you. You can charm an entire room with a few words.”

  He smiled and trapped her hand in both of his. “Then let’s try to put one of my only talents to good use, and then hope I can learn the rest.”

  A laugh escaped her, and she couldn’t help but pinch his side teasingly, which earned her an even larger smile from him. “You will. Starting now.”

  Exhaustion hung over Calle’s head by the end of the day as he headed back to his chambers. He’d talked to many people and counted supplies, weapons, and food. They had a shortage of everything, especially soldiers. A concentrated, small-scale attack would work best on the outside, and if they managed to get Avonia and Typheal on the inside, they might be able to pull this off without fighting Heulwen soldiers.

  He jumped when someone brushed his hand, and he glanced down to find himself holding a piece of paper between his fingers. When his gaze darted up again, the hallway was empty. Most people had gone to sleep by now.

  His heart pounded a fearful rhythm against his ribcage as he spun in a circle and glanced up at the ceiling in case a dark-skinned valkyrie waited to jump on him and cut the hair from his head.

  Inari was nowhere to be seen.

  Inviting Skaja into the fortress was one thing. But having Inari wandering about made his skin crawl with discomfort. So far, no one had been killed. Inari had pulled a few pranks but mostly kept to herself and groomed her griffin.

  His eyebrows furrowed as he returned his attention to his hands and smoothed the crumpled paper.

  Meet me in my room.

  The rhythm of his heart transitioned from fearful to excited. He’d never seen Skaja’s handwriting, but who else could it be?

  He hastened back down the hallway and to the other end of the fortress. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but when he glanced over his shoulder, no one followed. With wary steps, he continued forward until he stood in front of Skaja’s door. It opened suddenly, and two hands grabbed his shirt, pulled him inside, and slammed him against the wall just as the door closed behind him.

  “Are you asking to be followed?” Skaja snarled only inches from his face. “Keep to the shadows. Be aware of your surroundings. Listen to both your surroundings and your gut. Be cautious.”

  “I had no idea you were following me. I didn’t even see you. Was this...a test?” He shrugged sheepishly. “I suppose I failed, eager as I was.”

  “No.” She smoothed his shirt with the brush of her hands while her lips twitched with amusement. “We got caught in your room last time. We’re less likely to be caught in mine.”

  “To be fair, I forgot to bolt the door. Not a mistake I’ll repeat again.” He slid the bolt into place and gave the door a firm tug. It held steady.

  “I don’t know any man brave enough to lock themselves in a room with a valkyrie.”

  “Probably just pure stupidity,” he joked as he slipped off his shoes. “I’m not sure how much bravery plays a part.”

  When he glanced up, he froze, and his heart stuttered. Skaja stood only feet away with one of her daggers open, her expression unreadable in the flickering candlelight. She stood still for a long few moments, simply gazing back at him. But then her expression softened when she lifted her dagger.

  Bells of warning pealed in his mind, telling him to move, to defend himself. But he remained rooted to the spot. He trusted Skaja. She would not harm him.

  A new bell of alarm banged loudly against his skull when she lifted her dagger to her own hand. His eyes widened, and he jumped forward to try to stop her, but she moved too fast. The blade sliced her palm. Red rivulets of blood streamed from the wound and coated her hand and fingers.

  “Will you bind your soul to mine?” she asked quietly, almost reverently. “Not temporary this time. But permanently.”

  He swallowed as he watched a couple drops of blood hit the stone floor, but then his gaze moved to her face. Earnestness sparkled in her eyes. And immense warmth.

  “Why?” his voice escaped as a hoarse whisper.

  Her wings folded closer to her body as if vulnerability caused her discomfort. “Because when I think about losing you, it hurts. Because I look forward to seeing you every day. Because I would do absolutely anything to keep you safe. Because I need to be closer to you.”

  She loves me, he realized with a start. She just doesn’t know how to say it.

  He took a step closer. And then another. “You might hate it—being so connected to me.”

  “I liked it a little too much when the bond was temporary.”

  Shadows flickered across her hopeful face as he stopped beside her, gazing into her eyes. Silently, he took the dagger from her and inhaled sharply as he sliced his palm opposite her. Pain pulsed through his hand like an eager, living thing.

  After setting the dagger aside, he threaded his fingers with hers, palms pressed together and blood mingling. “This is different from a blood oath,” he said, maintaining eye contact. “In a blood oath, one person consumes the other’s blood. However, a blood exchange is required for bonding two souls. It’s like...” He swallowed, a flicker of fear passing over him like silent shadows as he placed his whole self on the line. “It’s like the marriage of two souls, not in law or body, but in spirit. Do you still want to do this?”

  Her feathers ruffled in nervousness or excitement, he wasn’t sure. “The real question is, do you? There are many better candidates over me.”

  “No, there are not. And yes, I certainly want this. I’d have all of you, in law and body as well if you would have me.”

  She bit her lip, though she didn’t outright refuse him like he expected. “I make a better valkyrie than I would a queen.”

  “You haven’t had a chance to try.”

 
More uncertainty, and he realized he pushed too much on her at once. It didn’t matter what he wanted. He found it more important to move at her pace.

  He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll ask nothing more from you than the soul bond.”

  Finally, her shoulders relaxed, as did the tension in her wings. “How do we do this?”

  Golden light flickered between their palms as his magic reached out to her. The magic snaked around their wrists like a unity rope. The shimmering light moved fluidly through their merged blood and gently caressed the essence of her spirit. Asking. Waiting.

  “I can feel it,” she whispered. Warm light reflected off her face and filled her eyes as she gazed back at him.

  Swallowing the emotion in his throat, he nodded. “Magic isn’t necessary to bind souls. But I want it to bind ours. I admit I don’t know what the result will be, but I’m looking forward to finding out.” The worst his magic could do in this state was heal her, but he hoped it would help create a stronger bond. A unique one.

  “Me too,” she breathed.

  He took a deep, fortifying breath before speaking words in the Heulwen language, the same language printed on his wrist and back. The words rumbled deep in his chest like a trembling mountain before a rockslide. His very soul shook, quivering with anticipation.

  He then prompted her to speak the same words.

  The moment she uttered the last syllable, their souls stretched toward each other like two boulders rolling down from opposite hills and crashing into each other at the bottom. He gasped. His knees buckled at the same time hers did, and he barely managed to catch himself against the bedpost with an arm around her waist.

  Heat coiled in his blood, burning hotter and hotter as his soul fused with Skaja’s. He felt her everywhere—in their syncing heartbeats, in their rolling emotions, in their spiritual connection.

  The fever of passion inflamed within him. One moment, he held her hand, and the next, his fingers tangled in her hair and his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss. Their hearts beat wildly. Their blood boiled hotter.

  He gasped when Skaja’s hands wandered beneath his shirt. Her touch left a trail of lava in their wake, and when her fingers skimmed the waistline of his pants, he groaned against her mouth.

  All too suddenly, her mouth left his, leaving him famished and wanting for more. She pulled his shirt over his head, shucked it to the side, and unclasped the neck piece of her outfit. Her dress dropped to the floor. The sight of her in her undergarments spurred his heart into a frenzied rhythm.

  He reached out with the intention to pull her against him and feel her soft body against his, but she gave his shoulders a good shove, and he stumbled backward onto the bed. She quickly jumped onto him, straddled him, and leaned down so her hair brushed his face.

  A shiver of desire crawled through him, demanding more.

  A shuddering breath escaped him when she kissed his ear, his neck, his shoulder. His hands traveled up the length of her thighs, but they started to tremble when he forced himself to think clearly for a moment.

  Skaja had never kissed anyone before him. That could only mean she had never done anything more either.

  “Perhaps we should wait until after the bond cools down,” he rasped.

  “No,” she growled as she fisted his hair and pulled him into another kiss.

  He lost himself completely in her touch, in her kiss, in the feel of her warm skin on his. Mindful of her wings, he flipped her over and now straddled her. He breathed heavily as he gazed down at her in the flickering candlelight. “You won’t slap me? Stab me? Rip my head off?”

  The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. “Not unless you ask.”

  Not able to resist the pull of her for long, he kissed her again and dissolved into her fiery passion. He loved Skaja, and he planned to make her his queen if it was the last thing he ever did.

  Calle.

  At the sound of his name, his eyes flew open, and he bolted upright. His eyebrows furrowed, and he rubbed his bleary eyes to glance around. Darkness filled the room, dawn likely still hours away.

  He blinked back confusion when he turned his head to find Skaja sleeping soundly beside him, her wings stretched out on either side of her where she lay on her stomach. Her bare back peeked out from beneath the sheets. He wanted to kiss her smooth skin again. He wanted to run his hands over her soft feathers.

  Slowly, he grazed his fingers over her lower back. He smiled softly as he recalled their passionate night together and the promise of more to come. The tips of his fingers trailed across the arch of her wing. She didn’t stir.

  Calle, the voice said again, causing him to jump.

  His gaze darted about, but he soon realized the voice echoed in his mind, and not inside the room.

  Who’s there? he answered back with caution.

  No reply.

  Had he imagined the voice?

  Just as he settled back onto the bed, the voice penetrated his mind, louder this time. A child’s voice. He bolted upright.

  Uncle Calle. I know you are out there somewhere. Mama needs help.

  His eyes widened. Uncle Calle... Mama...

  You are my niece? How are you speaking to me?

  Through the strange mind-link, her teeth chattered as if in fear. Magic. Don’t tell Papa. He doesn’t know.

  I won’t. Are you frightened? What happened?

  I heard Papa say he will kill Mama if you don’t show yourself by tomorrow.

  The blood drained from his face.

  When? How? He mentally did the math. If this was his older niece, she was less than six years old. She sounded far too grown up for her age, and the reason why caused anger to clench in his fists. I have heard nothing of this ultimatum.

  A sniff. His heart ached at her tears. Papa threatens the rebels once a week. When you don’t show your face, he kills someone. This time it will be Mama. Another sniff. Please, I don’t want to lose my mama.

  Shock and anger drove him to his feet. In the heat of his fury, his feet felt warm on the cold floor. Skaja had been right. Avonia...Typheal...the council...they were hiding information from him. People were dying because he hadn’t taken action against his brother.

  Well, no more.

  He refused to lose his sister-in-law because he was waiting around on others to make the decisions, to make the first move. This was his move.

  He swallowed as he glanced toward Skaja’s restful, sleeping form. He felt her heartbeat, slow and peaceful, reminding him how precious she was to him. He wanted to do this alone. No one else had to die because of him. He refused to put his dear Skaja in harm’s way again. He could not bear the thought of losing her.

  Slowly and quietly, he dressed, pulled on his shoes, grabbed his weapons, and slipped out the door. Only then did he dare speak through the magical bond in his mind as if Skaja might hear his thoughts and wake. Or even detect the tension in his heartbeat.

  Where are you?

  In the castle, the girl replied. In Mama’s room.

  Mama’s room... His mind raced as he tried to make sense of her words and recall where she indicated. Were she and Liam sleeping apart?

  The queen’s chambers? he asked, dodging quickly around a corner and keeping to the shadows just as Skaja had chastised him to do only hours earlier.

  Yes. Mama is in pain.

  He clenched and unclenched his fists as he attempted to calm his anger and maintain a cool head. Is she awake?

  A pause. Then, Yes.

  Tell her I’m coming. Tonight.

  Another pause, and only when Calle reached the entrance of the fortress did the girl answer. Mama says don’t come. But she’s scared. I want you to come. I’m afraid of Papa.

  I will come. I promise. I don’t care what your mama says. Tell her to be ready in an hour.

  Could this be a trap? Absolutely. But the fear in his niece’s voice punched a hole in his gut. He couldn’t allow Liam to kill his wife nor hurt his children. What a sick, evil bastard. But his brother had killed Nyana and doomed him to a life of slavery. He had no doubts about him being capable of such a horrendous act.