Page 94 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

“I’m sure my family won’t mind. After all, we’re friends, right?” Raiden leant back into the booth, his stare pinned on Skylar then snapping to Cassidy. The two went quiet, exchanging nervous glances. He gestured to the booth and Sirona glanced at Kora.

There were two spaces left. One next to Raiden, the other beside Cassidy, where Kora had been sitting.

“You can sit on my lap if you’re stuck for choice.” Raiden stroked Kora’s mind, and she immediately sat beside Cassidy, surprise flickering across her face. Sirona smiled, her stare flickering between them as she perched next to Raiden.

He bristled, leaning towards Aerion who nuzzled Aryn’s neck in the shadows of the booth. Kora bit her bottom lip, tuning into Cassidy and Skylar’s discussion around their shared love of . . . horse riding? She didn’t expect that from Cassidy, a formidable lord and sailor.

“I had a mare once,” Kora added. “Cadence. She was a beauty.” She hoped Cadence was well. That she was safe from the darkness of the empire that still lurked outside of this tavern.

“Love that name!” Cassidy’s ringlets bounced as her head whipped from Skylar to Kora. “I prefer a stallion. My dream is to have an all-white one named Marshmallow.”

Kora blinked.

Skylar laughed, her hand slamming down on the table. “She’s messing with you, K.C. Cass once had this auburn mare with a fierce temper, but she passed in the early stages of the Mist.”

“Aye. I’ve not really settled on another horse since. They’re the best way to get around this side of the island if you can’t fly.”

As Kora relaxed into her first-ever female dominated conversation, her heart tripped over the sheer pandemonium of joy this group exuded. She brought her glass to her lips, her cheeks flaming as Raiden’s darkened stare never left her face.

40

Raiden

Kora’s beauty was captivating. Her waves of moonlight hair swished around her shoulders as she laughed. And fuck, wasn’t that a delightful sound. So delightful, Raiden fidgeted across the booth, his restraint thinning every passing second. Every smile, every twinkle in her lapis lazuli eyes, every lilt of her voice brightened the longer she rejoiced with Skylar and Cassidy.

Raiden’s mouth thinned at his sister and her closest companion. He’d taken them to the side recently after Sirona’s revelation. He’d never been more furious with Skylar, and a surprise art stencil set had appeared outside his door the following day, wrapped in a yellow patchwork ribbon. He’d noticed the book in Kora’s full satchel—a book Raiden had recommended to Skylar if she wished to start anew with Kora. It warmed him to see his sister take that first step.

Kora belonged here. She had to stay here. In that very moment, he knew he couldn’t let her leave. Couldn’t let her vengeance consume her. The fiery passion driving her to destroy Barron would consume her soon, like it had once before. And that could never happen again. He would find a way to break her deal with Zephyr.

Night had settled in, the white sconces lighting up the tavern like stars filtering through the ocean’s surface. Sirona had talked his ear off the past hour, warbling about gods-knew-what. All Raiden could do was watch Kora. The way the navy corset hugged her muscled frame, swirls of silver glistening in the light. The shirt had fallen just off her shoulders, exposing planes of freckled and scarred skin. He ached to touch it. To kiss it.

She deserved the world bowing at her feet. She was a goddess, her power mighty, her gifts beyond comprehension of this realm.

“You’re not listening to me,” Sirona sighed, leaning back.

Raiden glanced at her, aware that Aerion had slipped Aryn a few more drinks, loosening his usual tense demeanour. Their hands were now entwined under the table, their foreheads pressed together as Aerion whispered sweet nothings to Aryn.

“Sorry, Sirona. I’m just . . . distracted.”

“I understand that now. You’ve been staring at her all night.” Sirona gently placed her hand on Raiden’s forearm. “War will be upon us at some point, Rai. Don’t let the good times pass you by. I certainly wished I hadn’t.” Her dark eyes dipped to Raiden’s mouth, blinking before turning away.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt people.”

“I’m fine.” Her strained smile said otherwise. “Recent events have made me . . . reevaluate a few things. I need to focus on my studies. I want to become Altha someday. If we win this war, I can travel far and wide, spreading my gift to all. I can heal as many as I can, and share my wisdom.”

Raiden smiled, but a punch slammed into his gut. He’d never considered a life after the war. It’d always been train, fight, survive. And never . . . win. Even during the Mist, it’d been one, dark, cold day after another.

With a sharp inhale, light bloomed to his mind. After the war he wanted . . . love. He wanted family. He wanted freedom. He wanted to expand his tavern, maybe even curate art on the island. Embrace Galen’s cultures and lost artistry. After all, before the Devanian Conquest, Galenites had been the philosophers of the world. The scholars. The dancers and the painters.

Sirona’s smiled widened, noticing the shift in his expression, her fingers pressing into his forearm. “Sehwani, Raiden Windward.”

He jolted, Sirona’s rare sincerity bleeding through, the coldness in her dark eyes clearing and for once, a wise, fierce healer stared back at him. “Sehwani, Sirona Silvermaid.”

“Skylar, stop scratching it!” Aerion half-heartedly lifted his arm to swat Skylar as she continuously rubbed the scar across her forehead. His heavy-lidded stare blinked as Aryn wrapped his arms around Aerion’s torso, pulling him back down into their shadowy love pit.

“It fucking hurts!” she hissed. “It’s all this grog.”

“Oh, I have a salve that works wonders,” Kora replied, a finger running down her neck. Everyone had shuffled away from the males, Raiden too, teetering on the edge. Sirona had fled the tavern, hustling to return to the castle and check on Erick. Kora had even taken her hand briefly, thanking Sirona.