ETAN

When he swung into the saddle outside the stable, it felt like the first time he’d taken a full breath in over a day.

It was early afternoon, and he and Borsche were travelling ahead of Falek and Ayleth and the few guards Falek was allowing to accompany them—to a point.

That morning at training—which Etan had taken very carefully as his temper was still simmering—Falek had described his conversation with the King about invoking the Old Rite.

“… when I told him it would take all the fighting heirs and their coaches out of the Castle for two nights, he seemed very quick to agree that it was a good idea. I think he’s sick of sitting in the ballroom and at dinner every night. I think he also hadn’t remembered that his own daughter was covered by the Rite.

“When I mentioned Ayleth and where I would take her, he insisted Ayleth had no need to invoke the Rite—she was female.”

Etan had glanced at Ayleth then and seen her jaw tighten.

“But I was able to make him see that with her position in the fighting, she was now seen as a warrior. To exclude her would imply she wasn’t as strong as they all thought. The last thing Zenithra wanted was to weaken our position immediately prior to the Peace Accord.

“He couldn’t argue with that. So, instead he insisted I take her somewhere not far away, and under guard,” Falek said. “And I assured him, of course I would.”

“But… how will we be together with the guards?” Etan had asked, trying not to let his tension show. Ayleth had taken his hand.

Falek grinned. “I plan to have a conversation with each of the guards personally, asking them to be the one who is, in fact, a decoy—actually along to go find an enemy faction that I suspect of crooked dealings before the Peace Accord. They will each slip away to their task, unaware that all of the others are also assigned a different target—because each is vowed to hold my instructions in confidence,” the Defender chuckled. “They’ll be guarding our enemies and ensuring they don’t approach us—while leaving us completely alone.”

Etan had to admit it was a tricky plan that might work. “But if there is a problem—”

“I have a signal that they’ll call on their approach. No one will reach us without first warning us of their coming. Trust me, Etan, I have no desire for any man to be near Ayleth who would harm her, or reveal her secrets.”

Borsche had nodded slowly and Etan knew that was a good sign.

So, here they were, on the road to their retreat—two days for the fighters and coaches to retreat from Castle life and pursue humility in time of Peace.

In truth, most would use the time to sleep or train without observation. But Etan’s heart thrilled.

Two days with only Ayleth and their men.

Two days to avoid the machinations of Court.

Two days closer to their goal.

They would return little more than a day before the actual signing of the Peace Accord. And have plenty of time to plan and strategize before they did—with less chance of being overheard when Etan sought Borsche’s opinion on the best way to approach his father. And Falek’s experience dealing with Ayleth’s.

It seemed a little too good to be true. And with the tension and electricity of whatever spell they’d used on him the night before still crackling up his spine, he couldn’t deny that it was also a useful distraction. That, this wonderful knack Ayleth had found for sending him her feelings. It was a marvel, the beauty of her heart. The complete abandon she had in sending him a jolt of her love.

Or her desire.

He’d managed to keep himself under control that morning, but sleep had been difficult, and he was still finding his patience decidedly on edge. Feeling her love was like cool hands on a hot brow. It soothed him. It also made him want her even more.

Being out, away from people was exactly what he needed.

And so, as he and Borsche rode together into the forest and the Castle disappeared behind them, and Borsche led him on a merry chase to ensure they lost any potential followers, Etan found his breath coming easier and easier.

And his heart thrilling. He did his best to send that to her along the bond, to let her feel his pure excitement to be closer to her. But he wasn’t sure he was successful. Yet, even that couldn’t dampen his eagerness.

He was going to see his love. Alone. Without having to count the minutes. Without having to look over their shoulders every second.

Without their parents threat looming.

Finally.

*****

AYLETH

She’d struggled to sit still all day. Whenever they weren’t riding, she’d had to stifle the urge to pace. She could feel Etan more clearly today, it seemed. He was calmer than last night—a lot calmer—but still not quiet himself. Still even more tense than usual. But also… excited?

She felt the same. She practiced sending her feelings along the bond, and now he was under control enough to send them back, though not always.

She sat next to the fire, chewing on the dried meat and fruit they’d brought for the evening meal. While she would have preferred a plump pheasant, in truth, she could barely taste anything anyway. She could feel Etan getting close and with night descending, she would feel much better when he was under her eyes.

Falek had warned her Etan and Borsche would be taking a long route—circling back and going off trails to ensure they weren’t followed. But she hadn’t expected to have to wait until almost nightfall to see him.

She’d just dropped a new piece of wood on the small fire Falek had made when Etan bloomed to life in her head and she straightened with a jolt.

“What is it?” Falek asked.

But the growing darkness seemed to part, and suddenly Etan was there, climbing from his horse and stalking across the space toward her.

She’d expected him smiling and eager. She’d expected him more open than usual without the audience.

But she hadn’t expected the descent of this dark angel—eyes aglow under the hair falling over them, prowling towards her like a one of the big cats.

“You made it,” Falek said from the other side of the fire as Borsche called a greeting.

But Etan merely whispered her name and pulled her into his arms, his fingers sliding into her hair, and his tongue sliding into her mouth. “Finally,” he breathed against her lips.

Taken by surprise, Ayleth gasped, but then she fell into his searing kiss and it wasn’t until Falek cleared his throat and said, “If you do not unhand the Heir, I will return you to the castle dungeons,” that Etan finally pulled away, still staring into her eyes, his own fierce and possessive.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, leaning into his chest.

“I am now,” he whispered back.

“This is excellent news, Highness, but if you do not take your hands off of her, I swear on my vows to her life, I will cut them off.”

Etan’s eyes flashed—still not free of the anger and violence the Adepts had tried to use to infect him.

But he swallowed and stepped back, his hand trailing down Ayleths arm, so his fingers caught on hers for just a moment before they dropped.

“Thank you, Falek,” Etan said without taking his eyes off of her. “Thank you.”