A Breath of Sunlight Page 27

  “Please,” he whispered, eyes wide.

  With his continued smirk, Liam said, “What will kill her faster? Her defiance? Or my blade?”

  Calle threw down his sword, even as his chest heaved with agony. The weapon clattered against the cobblestone with an air of finality. “You may take my life instead, Liam. That’s what you’ve wanted all along.”

  “Call off your valkyries, and then I will give you a swift execution. If you don’t give me any trouble, I will make sure Scarlett’s head doesn’t fill the same basket.”

  Skaja’s body trembled even more violently than before as she fought his command. Her own blood soaked her clothing. Color drained from her face. Her eyes begged him to finish Liam no matter what happened to her.

  In no life would he take that risk.

  He started to raise his hand to give the signal for a ceasefire. But before he managed the feat, an arrow whizzed inches past his ear and embedded itself in Liam’s forehead.

  Shock slowed time as Liam fell backward, taking his weapon with him. The moment he hit the ground in a deafening crash of armor, silence followed. Harpies stopped fighting. Soldiers stared in confusion. And dawn drew back the curtains, allowing the sunlight to introduce the start of a new day.

  Calle inhaled a breath of sunlight and snapped his attention to the one who had fired the arrow. Paula sat on top of her griffin, her expression grave as she lowered her now-empty bow.

  People began moving again, murmuring words and sheathing weapons when no longer obligated to fight through Liam’s blood oath. Calle rushed toward Skaja and cradled her face in his hands. He gently turned her head one way, and then the other. The bleeding had stopped, and the cut on her neck was shallow.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered as he leaned slowly toward her until their foreheads rested together.

  She nodded. “You didn’t kill him.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. “No. I’m sorry. I should have.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  But then she moved so quickly, he struggled to follow her movements as she stepped in front of him and stood in a defensive stance, both daggers drawn. The harpies who had rushed toward them stopped hesitantly at the sight of her. Liam lay lifeless on the ground, and with it, his hold on the harpies had died with him.

  They answered to him now.

  “Forgive us,” one of them said as she dropped to her knee, followed by the others. They bowed their heads in submission. “We owe you a great debt. We are at your mercy, Your Highness.”

  Hurt and anger bled through his veins. These very same harpies had helped Liam send him to the Pits. Whether or not under oath, they had doomed him to great suffering for six miserable years.

  But without it, he wouldn’t have met Skaja. He wouldn’t have changed what happened for the world.

  “I will deal with the lot of you later,” he said in as commanding of a tone as he could muster after the painful ordeal with the garguaran, a long ride to Heulwen, and very little sleep. “Except you, Avonia. Rise and come with me.”

  Avonia followed closely at his side, and Typheal quickly caught up from his position at the steps.

  Calle gripped Skaja’s hand tightly, pouring every flicker of love and gratitude through their bond until her knees nearly buckled and a sheen of moisture lined her eyes. But it was the only thing he could do before he released her and took charge like the king he was never supposed to be.

  He commanded his soldiers to take the weapons from the losing side. The dungeon was going to be filled to the brim for a few days. Perhaps even a few weeks. At least until he gave everyone a fair trial. And when more sunlight bathed the battlefield in the warm caress of renewal, the world had bowed for a few moments to peace.

  Finally, he approached Paula where she tended to her griffin and gave a bow of his own. “Thank you. I am in your debt.”

  The valkyrie leader shook her head and regarded him with a curious stare. “I was in Skaja’s debt, and that debt has been repaid. I will hold you to your promise, princeling. I expect not to be bothered anymore.”

  “Like I said, you have my word.”

  Paula’s mouth twitched in amusement moments before she mounted her griffin and raised her hand in the air. The beast leaped into the skies, and one by one, valkyries followed, leaving hardly a remnant of themselves behind other than the deaths they had dealt on the battlefield.

  Slowly, Skaja approached with a look of regret in her eyes, and the look alone punched a hole through his stomach. Heartache quickly filled the hole as she pulled one of her daggers free from its holster. Her heartache echoed back at him when she gazed into his eyes for only seconds, but the goodbye in them shattered the control in his knees. They began shaking, but by some miracle, he remained standing.

  Without a word, she tucked the dagger into his belt before flying after her sisters. His gaze followed her long after she rejoined them in the skies.

  “Why is she leaving?” Typheal murmured, his gaze following his daughter as well, his expression stricken with grief. “She’s supposed to stay.”

  Despite his aching heart, Calle smiled as he pulled the dagger from his belt and inspected it beneath the sunlight. “This is her way of saying she’ll be back soon.”

  Surprisingly, Avonia laughed and shook her head bemusedly. “She really is awkward with men.”

  His smile grew wider. “And I love her for it.”

  She turned to him and squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for bringing her home.”

  The heat in his heart softened to a sweet, loving warmth as he returned his gaze to the small specks in the sky. “She was the one who brought me home.”

  A light wind whispered across Skaja’s wings as she landed on the castle wall and crouched low in the shadows. Long stretches of clouds blocked out the moonlight, and she took advantage to creep along the wall on silent feet. One flicker of moonlight on her feathers would cause them to shimmer like large crystals of snow in the dead of night and give away her position.

  Two guards walked along the parapet, the orange and yellow flames flickering from their torches as they strode in the opposite direction.

  She pulled the hood of her cloak more securely around her head as she crouched low and followed the parapet around the castle until she spotted torchlight flickering within the castle walls. Her dagger warmed her hand, eager to reunite with its pair after three long months of being away.

  The flashing firelight against the stone walls up ahead alerted her to someone’s approach. Quickly, she ducked into a stairwell and descended slowly enough for her footsteps to make nary a sound.

  Mere seconds rested between the two parties on this side of the wall, so she held her breath and glided across the courtyard, heaved herself onto a windowsill with the shutters open, and slipped inside the castle.

  Only to find herself in a large, empty corridor.

  Judging by the faint scent of lingering candlelight, someone had passed through recently.

  The dagger in her hand grew warmer against her skin as she kept to the shadows. Months ago, she had memorized the layout of the castle, but her eyebrows still furrowed when she couldn’t remember if the right hallway led to the dining quarters or the throne room.

  So instead, she allowed the dagger to guide her.

  Two courtiers dressed in fine clothing alerted her to their presence with their loud laughter and noisy footsteps. She tucked herself smaller between a table against the wall and drapes brushing the floor. They passed right on by, not noticing her in the shadows.

  The hilt of her weapon grew even warmer, which signaled the close proximity to its pair. But when she glanced around the corner, she cursed her luck. Two harpies stood guard at one door, while another two harpies guarded a door just around the corner.

  Calle must be inside.

  Her blood stirred excitedly, with a hint of nervousness, but she forced it to calm when she had no doubt he could feel every emotion passing through their bond.

  For a moment, she listened to their bond without alerting him to her presence. Weariness. Pain. Loneliness.

  She frowned. He was not as happy as she had expected him to be now that he had gained the throne. Liam’s death must have been hard on him, and she knew how much she had hurt him after leaving without a word.

  Not wanting to dwell on it for long, she spotted a servant heading down another hallway and followed her as silently as possible. The woman slipped into what appeared to be a servants’ passageway.

  Naturally, Skaja followed.

  But instead of stalking the woman through the narrow maze within the heart of the castle, she followed the dagger’s silent instruction until she stopped in front of a door. It was unguarded.

  Too easy? Or was this door usually unguarded?

  As quietly as possible, she opened the door, slipped inside the room, and closed it behind her. The magnificence of the large room stole the breath from her lungs. Ceilings stretched high in an array of different shades of gold. Tapestries hung on the walls from floor to ceiling, depicting anything from gentle woodland scenery to the fury of battle. Pillars of gold lined the room. A table of gold and silver stretched across the area, and at the very head of the table buried in a pile of papers?

  Her heart stuttered moments before it exploded with immense happiness.

  Calle sat alone at the table, his appearance changed since she’d last seen him. Instead of shabby borrowed clothes, he wore fine clothing befitting a king. His dark blue tunic dipped low enough for her to catch a glimpse of the top of his chest, covered in a green-blue silky vest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his brown pants were tucked into black boots, her dagger sheathed at his belt. He’d gained more muscle, but ev
erything else remained the same. His auburn hair with plaits on either side of his face. His warm amber eyes. His sweet mouth ready for a smile at any moment.

  However, it didn’t smile. Instead, he lifted a hand to his heart and rubbed his chest as if an ache lived there.

  And suddenly she realized he’d felt her joy moments before.

  And she felt how much he missed her.

  Impatience got the best of her as she glanced around the large room. No guards in sight. She crept up behind him on silent feet until she stood behind his chair. Her heart thrummed faster and faster, and if it beat any quicker, she feared it would give away her ruse and he’d turn around to find her.

  “You should take more care,” she murmured in his ear, causing him to shriek and jump a foot in the air. She grinned and continued, “Otherwise, a valkyrie could sneak in and assassinate you.”

  Now on his feet, their gazes locked, and she felt a range of emotions flood through their bond. Shock. Disbelief. Happiness. Relief. Her own emotions reflected his as the amber in his eyes captivated her, and just the sight of him caused her heart to tumble with overbearing joy.

  “Skaja,” he gasped moments before his hands reached for her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Two harpies opened the door on the other side of the room, concerned expressions, but they quickly shut the door again to give them privacy.

  She clutched onto the back of his shirt as if even the faintest of breezes could snatch him away. “By the towers of oblivion,” she sobbed into his chest. “I missed you so much.”

  His body trembled against her, his tongue seeming to find difficulty forming words. Instead of a reply, he held her even tighter against him, his fingers pulling off the hood of her cloak and tangling in her hair.

  “Why were you gone so long?” he finally asked, though his voice trembled in sync with his body.

  She rested her head against his solid chest and listened to his heartbeat within. It beat in sync with hers, filled with love, hope, and immense relief.

  “Valkyries are honorable. It’s why we don’t run even from our deaths.” She pulled away, enough to look into his eyes but not enough to break free from the comfort of his arms. “I broke at least a dozen valkyrie rules. I returned for my punishment.”

  He stiffened against her, and slowly, his eyes widened as he looked her over. “What did they do to you?”

  “Nothing I expected. My tongue is still intact. They didn’t take my wings. And strangely enough, they didn’t banish me. I’m free to come and go as I please as long as I never bring another man to the island.”

  “Then what happened? What was your punishment?”

  “Cleaning. It was dreadful. I reeked of garguaran guts for weeks, and then I nearly sneezed my brains out as I washed the towers. It took me months to finish it all.”

  A sigh escaped her as she finally broke away from him and sat on top of the table, her hands braced behind her, both legs crossed. New purple tattoos peeked out from beneath her long brown boots, and Calle’s careful gaze didn’t miss them.

  He captured one of her boots in his hands and slowly slid it off her foot to reveal swirls of silvery purple ink covering the ribbons of scars on her legs. Heat blossomed on her skin as his hand slid from her ankle to the back of her knee.

  “These tattoos are new,” he croaked, reiterating the words she’d said to him upon first discovering the golden tattoos on his back.

  “I was ashamed of my scars before because they showed my weakness. You have taught me to accept and honor them.”

  “Who gave them to you?”

  She knew why he asked. They were Heulwen tattoos. “A friend of Cian’s. A female elder who lives on the edge of the city. I fully expected black. But...this purple is beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is,” he murmured. His finger traced the swirling pattern all the way back down to her ankle. And when he gently lowered her leg, he leaned closer until both palms lay flat on the table beside hers. He hovered over her, his lips a breath away from hers. “Marry me, Skaja.”

  Heat burst like a bubble inside her, which rippled outward to every inch of her body as if the smooth, glassy surface of her emotions were disturbed in the most beautiful way. His eyes blazed with a passionate intensity, a determination that told her he’d never give up if she refused him.

  Overly aware of her bright red cheeks, she murmured, “There have only been a handful of times in my life where I imagined what it must be like for someone to propose to me, and most of those times were in the past three months. Not a single one of those fantasies included me sitting on a table with one boot on the floor.”

  Finally, his mouth twitched in amusement, but he didn’t give an inch. Neither did she. “Our relationship has been strange from the start. Can’t start putting it into a perfect box now.”

  She noticed one of his hands hovering the slightest bit off the table, and she couldn’t help but grin when she realized he was preparing himself in case she tried to slap him.

  “Would I become Queen?” she asked, trying hard to hide her trepidation. But she knew he sensed it in their bond.

  “Yes.”

  “Would our children be Sun Fae or harpies?”

  His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “Will my freedom be stripped away?”

  Now, the very tips of his fingers brushed hers like a careful whisper. “Never.”

  Despite having had the last three months to prepare for this moment, she found it much more terrifying to take the leap than she expected. But she knew she would take a hundred leaps to be with Calle. No matter what responsibilities she must shoulder. No matter what she must give up. She knew what she wanted.

  Her hands softly trailed up his arms, to his shoulders, until she ensnared him in her embrace. “I will take that leap with you, even if you are too heavy for me to carry.”

  A relieved exhale escaped his mouth moments before his lips captured hers. She returned his kiss with equal fervor as the distance of the past several months snapped them back together.

  They broke the kiss to press their foreheads together. Sweet, warm happiness beat in sync between them, and she knew this was what she wanted for as long as she lived. Calle by her side. Always. No matter what.

  “I want my dagger back,” she said suddenly as she leaned back a few inches and held out her hand.

  He didn’t return it to her. “How else would you find me if we are separated?”

  She laughed and slipped it out of his belt despite his reluctance. “I will always find you, with or without it.”

  “Then in that case...” He shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose I can part with it.”

  A wide smile broke out on his face, and the sight of it melted her to the core. This man had changed her so completely. She owed everything to him. Absolutely everything. And she refused to take a single moment for granted.

  Gazing into his amber eyes, she whispered one last time, “Always.”

  THANK YOU

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  BOOKS BY SYDNEY WINWARD

  The Bloodborn Series

  Bloodborn

  Bloodbond

  Bloodscourge

  Root Brew Float

  Yours, Sterling

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sydney Winward is a fantasy and paranormal romance author who dabbles in the occasional historical fiction. She loves building complex worlds filled with magic, strong characters, and emotional stories that can make you laugh and cry.

  Sydney is the author of The Bloodborn Series, and when she’s not writing, she’s reading, thinking about stories, or going on adventures with her children. She lives in Utah with her husband, two amazing kids, and one stubborn fish.

  www.sydneywinward.com