Gently, I pulled out of her and used a clean linen on one of the shelves to wipe her up.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Quietly. Too quietly, perhaps.

When I turned her to face me, I felt like a dagger had just lodged itself in my chest when I saw tears in her eyes.

“Raazos. Gemma,” I breathed, setting her up on the crate and standing between her legs, cradling her face in my hands, wiping away the clear tears that ran down her cheeks. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she breathed, shaking her head, trying to hide from me. “N-No, it’s not that.”

“What is it?” I asked. “Tell me, kyrana.”

“I don’t even know,” she told me. Even though her tone was miserable, she smiled, though her brow was still furrowed in bewilderment. “I guess I didn’t expect that I would react like that to the lore and—”

I stiffened.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed,” I growled. “Because you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Not about that. Not with me.”

“I know,” she said softly. “And the sex…it’s always amazing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I hummed. “It is.”

More than amazing, I’d say. The word didn’t feel like enough for what we experienced with one another.

I felt some of the tension in my chest begin to unwind.

At least until she said, “Tonight has been a little overwhelming. With the ball and everything leading up to it. And I was nervous and worried that I’d do something wrong to…to embarrass you or Kalia or…or Laras.”

“Gemma,” I said softly, hearing her sniff, not liking the ache in my chest as she made herself vulnerable over things that she never had to worry about to begin with.

“And what happened with your brothers! With Kythel. And with Kaldur.”

A rough sound left my throat. I wiped at her cheeks again.

“I’ll deal with Kaldur,” I told her. “He won’t be staying. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“No,” she breathed, biting her lip as fresh tears sprung in her eyes, making me scowl in helplessness. “No, please. I want him to stay. This is his home, where you all lived together. And I know you don’t see each other often. I don’t want to come between that.”

“I will not forgive what he did tonight,” I informed her stiffly, feeling my hackles begin to rise. “He knew what he was doing.”

Gemma was looking at me with round, wet, sad eyes. That dagger returned, sinking deep, and my wings twitched and fluttered behind me, restless.

“Ahh, laraya, the way you’re looking at me just makes me ache,” I told her roughly, leaning forward to wrap my arms around her, wishing I could take that look away.

Laraya meant heart’s blood in our language. A meaningful word, spoken among mates and lovers, and it fell from my lips easily, as if the word had always been meant for her.

“We have to talk, Azur,” she told me, her words muffled in my vest.

Pressing my lips into her hair, I murmured, “Please. Tell me what you need. I’ll give you anything you want.”

She took in a deep breath. Her fingers came to my vest, squeezing tight.

“Aina,” she whispered into my chest.

The name was soft. It made me freeze against her.

Slowly, I pulled away, feeling my jaw tighten as I peered down at her.

Gemma dragged in a long, steady breath and wiped her hand across her cheeks, smoothing away the fresh tears.

“I want to know who Aina was,” she said, holding my eyes, “and why you married me. I want to know why you hated me.”

I flinched. “Gemma—”

“Why you wanted me to be afraid of you. Why Kalia was so angry with me when we first met. Why I make your brothers wary. Why Kaldur nearly set you into a rage in a crowded ballroom. It’s what I want, Azur. I just want the truth. Don’t you think I deserve to know why?”

Chapter 40

Gemma

Azur was quiet for a long time.

Every moment that ticked by in silence, my heart sunk deeper and deeper into my belly. I could still smell the lingerings of lore on his clothes, but now the heady, spicy scent just made me want to curl into a ball.

But then, bright hope burst in me when he said quietly, “Very well. But not here.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” I said.

Azur was restless as we cleaned up. But there was no embarrassment in our actions as we tucked and smoothed our clothes back into place. The dizzying hunger of the lore had left me trembling, but I didn’t mind the sensation.

We left the storage room, ventured out into the darkened hallway, where, thankfully, no keepers were lingering. My face burned just thinking about what I’d done to Azur in open view, where anyone could have walked in or strode through the door at the end of the hallway.

Only, I couldn’t find it in me to regret it, even if my jaw ached from the act. I would never forget the look in his eyes as he’d watched me pleasure him. My only regret was not doing it sooner.

I shivered and Azur held me close. When he led me out of the family entrance’s door, out toward the courtyard and the terrace where we took our morning meals, I glanced up at him, feeling a chill in the air.

Kalia had told me that winter was approaching. The lore would be replanted then, mere weeks after it had been harvested, hibernating and preparing under a frost-ridden earth before it would emerge at the end of the cold season.

I could feel it in the air. The warm evenings were gone, giving way to a crisp breeze. I liked the cold though. I didn’t mind it. Especially when my husband’s arms wrapped tight around me to help shield it.

I tightened my hold on him when I found myself swept up in those arms, cradled against his chest, and he launched us up into the air, his wings carrying us easily. He flew up past the third floor of the keep to the roof, where he landed on a flattened, obviously well-worn spot in the stone.

“You come up here often?” I asked softly.

“It was my father’s favorite hiding place,” he told me. “When Mother threw her dinners with nobles he would rather not entertain. He would bring us out here, too, if we asked.”

I loved that. Azur obviously still came out here, judging from the dried flakes of lore I spied tucked into the grooves of the roof.

“You smoke out here?” I guessed, trying to lighten his mood. Because it had turned dark and brooding. It made me nervous, the change in him. Nervous about what I might discover, but this was a conversation that was long overdue. I supposed I just hadn’t expected to have it tonight.

I’m glad we are, I decided, lowering myself beside him as he kept a firm grip on my calf just in case I managed to stumble off the roof. He was slippery like a fish when it came to this conversation. I needed to catch him when I could.

The view was breathtaking, similar to the ones from my rooms—and Azur’s. Only, it felt even wider because we could see the sky above, the stars twinkling out beyond the dark clouds.

“I feel like I need to smoke now,” Azur rumbled, running a hand down his face.

“Is it really so bad?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump lodge itself in my throat.

Now I was worried.

Azur looked over the Silver Sea when he said, “Aina was my aunt. My mother’s only sister. Her beloved sister. Her twin.”

I stilled. So twins ran in his family’s bloodline.

“The pair of them were incredibly close, like Kythel and me. Aina lived here with us in the keep. Back then, we were in a time of peace with the Kaazor and with the Thryki across the seas. A tentative peace. It was quiet in the Kaalium—partly because of Aina. Her strengths laid in negotiations, not war strategy like Laras’s other advisors. She brokered a twenty-year treaty with the Kaazor. We would supply them with lore. They wouldn’t try to breach our borders in the north and they would keep their kyriv away from our villages, even the ones on the outer lands.”