Page 214 of Keldori By Daybreak

“I didn’t make any oaths or promises, and I didn’t choose to be a Saergrim. I didn’t ask you to swear yourself to me and the Rift, so no. Your oaths don’t mean anything to me.”

He wanted to stay. It was his dogma that was in the way.

“But I did choose this,” he said. “My parents were the last Grimguards. Someone needed to pick up the mantle to keep the Saergrim safe and protect the worlds from each other.”

“But Skalterra isn’t a threat. Ferrin is. If we have to separate our worlds to keep Ferrin from seizing unlimited power, then fine. But I don’t care about the Rift, or Saergrims, or Grimguards beyond that, and once the Rift is safe again, I don’t see why your oaths have to matter anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you should live for you first, and your title of Grimguard second.”

“And if I want to live for you first?”

“I don’t want that.” I frowned at his lips rather than meet his eyes.

“What do you want?” His face was closer now, and I was lost in the orange haze of his irises.

I swallowed hard. There were a lot of answers to that question.

“I want you to break the rules.”

“Would you really ask that of me?”

“Yes. Your Lady demands it.”

“Break all the rules?” His forehead pressed against mine, and his reluctant grin was inches from my face.

“Of course not.” I felt the heat of my blush rising in my cheeks, but our faces were so close now that I doubt he noticed. “Only break the rules you want to.”

“Do you know which rule I’d like to break first, my Lady?” His hand cupped the back of my neck while the other played with the hem of my shirt.

That new hunger reared, but I didn’t know if it was from my end of the tether or his.

“No,” I lied.

Ciarán leaned in, slow and gentle, as if to give me every opportunity to reconsider, and locked his lips over mine. I gasped against his mouth.

“That’s a good rule to break,” I breathed.

“Would you like me to keep breaking them?” he whispered into my lips.

“I—I think so.”

He hesitated, pulling back an inch. “That’s not good enough. I need you to know, Wren. I need you to be sure.”

“I told you I don’t care about your oaths.”

“It’s not my oaths I’m worried about.” His brow furrowed in gentle concern. “It’s you. I want to break every rule with you, but if you don’t want to—”

“I’m sure,” I said.

It was both of us, I realized, that was desperate for the other. It was a shared need that vibrated along the tether, especially with the unknown looming ahead. This might be our last chance to be together.

The thought broke my heart, and it made me want to be that much nearer to him.

His brow, however, remained knit in uncertainty, so I opened the bond between us and let him feel every thought I’d ever had about him.

Every time he’d annoyed me, my reluctant gratitude when he’d saved me, my desperation to keep him alive, the way I’d turned Ergoth’s strath inside out to save not me and not the worlds, but him.