Page 22 of A Thread of Breath and Bone

“Interesting,” Boyce muses, boredom lacing his tone.

I cross my arms over my chest and look back at the unBonded prince.

“What is?”

He jerks his chin to Ryker, who hasn’t taken his eyes off us. I glare at Ryker in warning before he finally looks away. Boyce shakes his head with a dark chuckle. “So the rumors are true.”

When I shoot Boyce a glare, he leans back in his chair, legs spread wide.

“The prince and princess, how cute, if not a bit predictable. You both seem like the type to break the rules despite your “perfect heir” reputations.”

I huff out a disbelieving laugh, attempting to hide my nervousness. “Don’t be daft. It doesn’t suit you.”

He sighs but doesn’t continue, leaving us both to sit in silence as the opening Ceremony begins. I cheer for Trysten and the rest of the team, making sure to keep my cheering for Ryker to a minimum, though it’s pointless with his number on my face.

By the third period, I'm ready to get away from Boyce, who is set on watching my every move in silence. I think I'd rather be sitting in the stands above with Ryker’s little cheer team instead of here.

“What?” I snap when I can’t take it anymore.

Boyce steeples his fingers, his clear blue eyes studying me. “You’ve changed.”

I groan and sink further into my seat. “I’m not a child anymore.” I cross my arms and focus on Trysten, wrapping an ankle injury.

We’re up eight points, and our team is doing well aside from the few cuts and bruises they all sport, but that’s only typical AerBall injuries.

Boyce hums delightedly beside me before leaning in closer. “So I can see.” When I swing my head in his direction, I have to lean back because his face is so close. “If you and the prince aren’t a sure thing, allow me to treat you to dinner this evening. We can fly wherever you want. I promise to have you back before morning.”

Is he serious? He should be married by now with a wife and little heirs running around. Also…ewww.

“I’m good.” I offer him a grimace and turn to see Ryker and Trysten watching me again. Annoyed with all of them, I stand and walk to the divider of the pit and royal box as Ryker and Trysten move to meet me.

“You okay?” Ryker asks, trying hard to keep his eyes on me instead of Boyce.

I grasp the railing, brushing his hand with the tip of my finger. “All good.” I look to Trysten, asking him about his ankle. He says he’ll be fine, but Ryker wants him to sit out the third period. Trysten’s eyes land on my jersey, and he covers his smile with his hand.

When I had asked Trysten to get Ryker’s dead languages book for me, he looked at me like I had grown a third head, but didn’t ask questions. It only took me a few minutes to find the alphabet and numbers glossary and translate what I needed.

That was weeks ago.

“How about you let him play? It’s the last game of the season. Plus, you trust him enough to tell you if he’s hurt, right?” I ask.

Trysten jumps up to the railing, throwing an arm around me in solidarity and grinning at Ryker. He gestures to me. “What she said.”

Ryker sighs and runs a hand through his hair, nodding.

“Nice jersey.” Trysten winks, slapping Ryker on the shoulder before walking away.

They have one minute before they need to head back out to the arena.

Ryker studies my jersey, narrowing his eyes. “Turn around,” he orders.

I grin and spin, pulling the material tight. He curses behind me, so I spin back to face him, noticing his heated gaze as it travels around me.

“Fuck,” he growls. “Do you know what seeing my name on you does to me?” The bells sound, alerting the teams, it’s time to get back out there. I wink at Ryker before I head back to my seat beside Boyce. Before Boyce can get out whatever comment is on the tip of his tongue, I say, “Save it.”

He works his jaw and faces forward, and we don’t talk for the rest of the game.

“Let’s go!” Kamden cheers, exciting the crowd around us as we exit the arena. There’s a palpable high in the air after our win that has everyone cheering as music thumps out from speakers.