SKYE'S POV
The rain lasted until dawn.
I woke to the soft drumming of water against the tall windows of our chambers and the distant rumble of thunder retreating into the western mountains. The storm had washed the valley clean. When I stepped onto the balcony wrapped in one of Eryx’s heavy wool cloaks, the air smelled of wet pine, cold stone, and fresh earth.
Below, Nighthaven was slowly waking.
Servants crossed the courtyards carrying baskets of bread. Guards changed shifts beneath the dripping archways. Smoke rose from the kitchens in pale silver ribbons, and the river beyond the walls flashed bright and swollen beneath the morning light.
Strong arms circled my waist from behind.
“You escaped,” Eryx murmured against my hair.
“Only temporarily.”
“I was promised a race to
