Fall of Ruin and Wrath (Awakening, #1)

“You . . . you really aren’t a mortal man then,” I said.

He laughed, the sound light and causing my heart to skip. “If you’re truly just now realizing that, I’m not sure what to tell you.”

I huffed, eyes drifting shut. The silence that fell between us then was warm, companionable, and nothing like I’d experienced before with anyone I’d been with. There was always this need to speak, to fill the quiet either to stave off the inevitable awkwardness that often came or to keep my mind from slipping in another.

But the Prince was nothing like I’d ever experienced.

“I leave in the morning, by the way,” Thorne said eventually.

“I remember.” A pang of unease sliced my chest. Did I not want him to leave? Or was it something else? “When will you return?”

“I believe it will only take a few days.”

I tried to decipher the feelings inside me. Shouldn’t I feel relief that he’d be gone for a few days? I didn’t. There was just unease, and maybe a little . . . sadness. Oh gods, I realized it was likely because I would miss him.

I needed help.

“Then you should be back in time for the Feasts,” I said.

“I should be.”

Some of the pleasant haze faded as the reality of what was to come resurfaced. “How long do you think it will be before the Westlands or the Iron Knights reach Archwood?”

“That I cannot answer for sure, but I suspect it will be before the month’s end.”

My stomach hollowed as I drew the pads of my fingers over the chiseled lines of his chest.

“Leave with me.”

“What?” I blinked open my eyes.

The blue and green of his eyes swirled into the brown. “Come with me when I leave to meet with the armies.”

My breath snagged on the word yes, but I stopped it from escaping. Anticipation swelled at the prospect of traveling with him, of being with him, at his side, but that . . . that felt like more. Dangerously so. I swallowed, closing my eyes. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Probably not,” he said, then fell quiet for several moments. “Will you have dinner with me then, when I return?”

“You’re actually asking if I will?” A tired smile tugged at my lips as I struggled to ignore the disappointment with myself— with him for not pushing that I go with him, which was entirely messed up.

“Is that not what you want from me?”

I shouldn’t want anything from him. “Yes.”

His thumb swept over the peak of my breast. “Then will you?” “Yes.”

Thorne was quiet for a moment, and then I felt his lips against my cheek. “Thank you.”

A tripping motion went through my chest. Any Hyhborn, let alone a prince, expressing gratitude was, well, unheard of, and I didn’t know what to do with that as I lay there, the Prince eventually slipping into sleep.

But I stayed awake, my fingers resting against his chest. I didn’t know why in those quiet, dark moments I thought of the premonition I had in the Great Chamber when Ramsey Ellis had come to the Baron with news of the Westlands.

He’s coming.

I knew that premonition had been about Thorne.

That he came for what is his.

That was what Maven had said, and I knew that when Thorne had been here before, he had been searching for something.

Or someone.



A light touch to my cheek woke me. I opened my eyes to the faint rays of dawn glancing off the cut of Thorne’s jaw and the golden hilt of the dagger strapped to his chest. It was morning, and that meant . . .

“You’re leaving?” I whispered, voice heavy with sleep.

Thorne nodded. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, thick lashes lowered as he drew his fingers along my chin.

“It’s okay.” I started to sit up.

“No, stay. I like the idea of you being here, in the bed I’ve slept in,” he told me, his brows furrowing. A moment passed, and those lashes lifted. His gaze slipped over my face, lingering on my . . . my lips.

Though I was only half awake, my pulse started to pound. I thought he looked at me like he . . . like he wanted to kiss me.

I wanted him to kiss me.

I wanted to kiss him.

Neither of us moved, though. Not for several moments. Then he lowered his head. My eyes drifted shut. His lips didn’t touch mine. They brushed over my brow, and for some reason, that sweet, chaste kiss . . . it undid me.

“I’ll return to you as soon as I can,” Prince Thorne said. “I promise.”

Eyes remaining closed, because I was afraid that if they opened they would start watering, I nodded.

“Go back to sleep, na’laa.” He tugged the sheet up over my arm. His touch lingered at my shoulder. “Till later.”

“Till later,” I whispered hoarsely.

Prince Thorne stood, and though he moved so quietly, I knew the exact moment he’d left the chamber. I opened damp eyes.

Do you like him?

That was what Grady had asked.

Gods.

I thought I did.



I found Claude in his study that afternoon, alone as he sat behind his desk. He looked up as I entered, his smile a little off.

“Do you have a moment?” I asked.

“Always for you.” He folded a piece of parchment and set it aside. I glanced at the ever-increasing stack of letters. “I’m glad you’ve come by. I’ve been wondering if the arrangement between you and the Prince has fared well or if you’re glad for the momentary reprieve.”

My cheeks warmed as I thought of last night. “Surprisingly well.”

“I can see,” he chuckled, leaning back as he crossed one leg over the other. “So, you’re not so against this arrangement now?”

I lifted a shoulder, having not come to talk about the Prince. I sat in one of the chairs before his desk. “He told me that you were with the people of Archwood yesterday.”

“I was.” He brushed a lock of dark hair back from his face, his pale cheeks turning pink. “I thought it would be wise that I see what is being done. That I be seen.” He cleared his throat. “I was there this morning for a little bit.”

“I think it’s a good idea.” I smiled at him. “Hopefully it will inspire others to take part.”

“Hopefully,” he murmured, lowering a hand to the arm of his chair. “We shall see, I suppose.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about.” I twisted my fingers together, unsure of why I was so nervous. Actually, that wasn’t true. I was worried I was going to prove myself a naive fool today. “It’s about your other cousin.”

“Is it?” He glanced at the closed door.

I opened my senses, letting that connection forge between us. I saw the gray wall. “Does he . . . does he have abilities like me?”

His brows knitted as his head tilted. “Are you trying to read me, Lis?”

I stiffened. “Can you tell?”

He laughed roughly. “Only because I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re reading someone. Your stare becomes rather intense and you don’t blink.”

“Oh.” I squirmed a little in my chair.

“He does,” he answered.

I stopped fidgeting. Everything stopped.

“That’s how I knew what you said when we first met could be true. He had the same knack for knowing. He had other . . . knacks.” His shoulders rose with a deep breath. “And if you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you, it was because by the time I met you, Vayne was already committing acts of treason. I thought that if I told you that there was another like you, you would want to meet them, and meeting him would endanger you.”

I was still connected to him, and his thoughts reflected what he said, but he knew I was in his mind. Hearing thoughts didn’t mean I couldn’t be fooled. “Then you know what I . . . I am?” I whispered.

He stared at me, brow furrowing. “Did the Prince tell you something?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t understand— ”

“Am I a caelestia?” I interrupted.

He blinked rapidly. A moment passed. “I don’t know.”

“Claude.” I leaned forward, fingers pressing into the knees of my tights. “Have you known this whole time that I wasn’t really mortal?”

“Caelestias are mortal too, Lis. We just have stronger blood. That is all,” he said.