Page 65 of How to Claim A Shadow King

Rested.

Protected… and cherished.

How bad would it truly be if I just... went ahead and married him?

The thought slides into my mind, unbidden. I stop walking, my fingers tangling in Sandwich’s white mane.

If I strip away my stubborn pride… the fear that’s driven me away from expectations my whole life… what am I actually fighting?

Malakai doesn’t treat me like property.

He’s heavy handed, sure, but has never once forced me. He listens to me. Takes care of me.

My throat gets tight.

He looks at me with a mixture of fierce desire and possessiveness that makes my pulse hammer in my neck. Compared to the petty lords I grew up tolerating, an ancient Shadow King with a soft heart and a rugged laugh is starting to look like… a miracle.

A very good-looking miracle.

With strong shoulders.

And calloused hands.

And a hard, warm body…

"If you sigh any louder, you are going to blow the remaining petals off these roses," a sharp, familiar voice croaks from above.

I nearly screech as Ter launches himself from a stone gargoyle and lands awkwardly atop Sandwich’s head. If the horse cares, he doesn’t show it, placidly walking alongside me like he’s always had a raven for a hat.

The raven cocks his head, watching me with one unimpressed black eye.

"I am not sighing," I tell him primly, adjusting the collar of my blue-green cloak. "I am thinking."

"You are mooning," Ter corrects, clicking his beak in annoyance. "The Shadow King has been out of your sight for less than an hour, and already you are standing in the weeds looking like a sad fishwife.”

“A fishwife?” I ask, amused.

“Yes, and not a very good one at that, seeing as how you have no fish.”

“Do you know what a fishwife is?” I ask Ter, narrowing my eyes up at him. Sandwich flicks his ears, and Ter ruffles his feathers. “I’m not sure they⁠—”

“We have work to do, Aveline,” Ter interrupts. “The Shadow King’s realm’s defenses are still weak, and your little display at breakfast did not magically mend anything but your pride."

I roll my eyes, though the reminder of this morning makes me smirk.

"Cern and Valen needed to be taught a lesson. In fact, I’m fairly sure they should be taught a few more." I pat Sandwich for good measure.

"And they are currently upstairs repairing a heavy oak door with their bare hands because they are terrified of you," Ter mutters, shuffling his wings. "But maybe hold onto that idea. We need to find that kernel of power again. Raise your hand and pretend like you’re going to smite the god of wild things."

I let out a heavy breath, stepping away from Sandwhich. I face the frozen rosebushes, planting my boots firmly on the stone. I close my eyes, trying to reach deep inside myself.

I search for that strange place inside me, where that golden magic hides.

"Don’t force it," Ter guides, his tone surprisingly focused. "Let it flow. Feel it."

I bite back a bitchy response and remember how I summoned it last time.

How Malakai’s hands were on me, his chest pressed against my back.