The First Crown

The Festival Night

Lilliana

“I couldn’t stay away.” My throat was dry, my voice little more than a whisper.

His eyes flicked to mine, storm-blue catching the firelight, and the look in them was enough to steal the breath from my lungs.

“I read your letter,” he said quietly, every word weighted, as though it had been turned over in his mouth a hundred times.

My heart thudded so hard it hurt. “And?”

Something passed over his face then, sharp as a blade longing, hunger, something he had been holding back for far too long. His hand twitched at his side, then slowly, as though against his better judgment, he reached out and caught my wrist. The warmth of his palm bled through the silk at once, grounding me, setting my pulse racing all at once.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he said again, but softer this time, hoarse, like the words were tearing something loose inside him.

“I do,” I said, though my voice shook. “I know I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the snow. I know I would rather risk my father’s wrath than spend another day pretending I don’t see you.”

His thumb brushed against my wrist, an absent motion, and it made my whole body tighten. He stepped closer until I could feel the heat radiating off him, until there was no space left that wasn’t charged with the memory of everything we hadn’t said.

“Lilliana.” My name sounded like a prayer in his mouth, like something half-sworn.

I thought he would let me go. I thought he would tell me to leave again. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in.

It was not a courtly kiss, not the kind sung about in ballads. It was fierce and unguarded, his mouth hot against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. I gasped shocked by the heat of it, by the way my whole body seemed to spark where we touched and that was all the invitation he needed.

His tongue slid against mine, slow and searching, and the taste of him was smoke and winter and something darker, something that made my knees weaken. My fingers curled into his shirt without my permission, clinging, trying to pull him closer though there was hardly space left between us.

His free hand cupped the back of my neck, thumb stroking along my hairline, keeping me where he wanted me as though he couldn’t bear to let me go.

The world fell away the torches, the voices, the music beyond the hedge. There was only him, only the heat of his mouth and the pounding of my heart, so loud I was sure he could feel it.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressed against mine.

“This is madness,” he said, but there was no conviction left in it.

“Then let me be mad,” I whispered. My hands were on his shirt now, clutching the coarse fabric like it might anchor me.

He closed his eyes, and for a long moment we just stood there, breathing the same air, our foreheads touching.

“If I keep you here, I won’t be able to stop,” he said finally.

“Then don’t stop.”

A sound escaped him then half laugh, half groan and he kissed me again, harder this time, until my knees nearly gave out.

Somewhere beyond the hedge, voices passed laughter, boots crunching on gravel, Reade broke away as though doused in cold water. His chest rose and fell, his face still close to mine, but his grip loosened on my wrist.

“Go,” he said, hoarse and urgent.

“I don’t want to.”

His mouth curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “If you stay, I will take you somewhere no one can find us. And I won’t bring you back until dawn.”

Heat shot through me at the words, but before I could answer, the voices came closer.

“Go,” he said again, stepping back into the shadow. His face was shuttered now, but the storm in his eyes was still there, blazing.

I obeyed, though my legs trembled as I slipped back toward the torchlight. The festival roared back into focus, the music loud, the torches bright but I felt none of it. My lips still tingled, my wrist still burned where he had touched me.

And for the first time, I was certain of one thing I would never be able to stop wanting him.

Reade

Her lips were softer than anything I’d ever touched.

I had meant to only look at her, to remind her of the distance between us. But when she tilted her chin up, when those pale eyes begged without a word, something inside me snapped.

I kissed her.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss boys give in haylofts. It was a brand. A vow. The world narrowed to the warmth of her mouth and the taste of summer she carried even in spring.

When I tore myself back, it was because I had to. Because if I didn’t, I’d lay her against the cold stone wall and give the Moon everything she’d ever asked of me.

She looked up at me like I had just handed her the stars. And for a moment one long, dangerous moment I believed I had.

“Go,” I rasped, forcing my hands to drop from her arms before I forgot myself again.

Her skirts brushed my boots as she obeyed, slipping back toward the light. I waited until her figure vanished among the torches before I drew a shaking breath. My heart was hammering, my blood singing like I’d just run the length of the valley.

There was no sight in all of Lenweil fairer than her eyes so bright they could have guided a man through the dark. She stood before me like something the Moon herself had carved, too fine, too perfect for my hands, and yet mine all the same. I rejoined the guard line at the far end of the yard, my jaw set, but I couldn’t stop my gaze from following her.

I was the luckiest man alive.

She had rejoined the crowd, cheeks flushed, laughing at something her youngest sister said. The torchlight turned her hair to molten gold, and she shone so brightly I half-wondered if everyone could see the bond now, burning between us like a tether of fire. She danced once more, again with Corwin Ferin. I wanted to hate him, but he was careful, polite, his hand never wandering too far. She smiled as she spun, her laughter ringing clear over the music.

Every time her gaze swept the crowd, she found me. Just for a heartbeat. Just enough to make my chest ache.

“Goddess save me,” Aedan muttered, finally breaking the long silence he’d kept all night.

His hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Walk with me,” he said, too casually to be casual at all.

He steered me away from the firelight, out past the circle of laughter and music until the sound of the festival dulled to a faint roar behind us. Only then did he release me, folding his arms across his chest.

“You’ve forgotten yourself,” he said, his grin gone now, his tone sharp as a blade. “Forgotten the wolf that lives under your skin. Forgotten you were born to be alpha.”

I felt my hackles rise. “Careful,” I said softly.

“No,” Aedan snapped. “Careful is what you’ve been for months, pretending you can stand here in Lockwood’s yard and look at her like that and not have every man see it. Careful is letting them think you’re just another guard, when you were born to lead.”

Anger flared hot and sudden. “Lead what? Aedan, look around you.” I gestured at the dark horizon, at the distant lights of the keep. “The last alpha was my grandfather. And look where that ended us hunted to near extinction, our line scattered, living in secret just to survive. That crown you’re so eager to remind me of got half our kin slaughtered.”

Aedan’s mouth twisted. “So you’d rather live half a life? Pretend you’re not what you are?”

“What I am,” I said through clenched teeth, “is a guard of her fathers estate, I know what I am.”

Aedan hesitated but pressed on. “You can’t hide her forever. If she’s your mate—”

I cut in, my voice like iron. “You need to learn when to be quiet.”

His brows drew together, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“If the Duke hears even a whisper about the old ways, it won’t just be me with a rope around my neck. It’ll be you too and your head will be the first one they put on a pike. Do you understand me?”

I looked back toward the festival fires, just as her figure crossed the edge of the light, golden and bright as if the Moon herself had set her there. The world stilled for a breath, the bond pulling tight between us like a bowstring.

He whistled low under his breath. “You must care for her more than I thought.”

The music swelled behind us, the festival spinning on without me, but my mind was already elsewhere on the kiss, on the warmth of her mouth, on the promise I hadn’t made out loud but already knew I would keep.