The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,169

no malice in her voice, just directness. "One good reason why I should defy the king I've spent most of my life working for, the king we've all sacrificed for, the king with the fate of our entire world on his shoulders."

Brighty met her icy eyes. "Because Rafe's one of us."

"And in any other circumstance, that would be enough. But not this one."

They stared, neither backing down. After a few tense seconds, Captain arched her brow. Brighty broke, tearing herself away with a curse. Her thoughts fled back to the warehouse and the fight, but most of all, to that moment between Rafe and the queen that she still couldn't quite erase—their wings spread and their eyes locked as flames and flurries lit the skies around them. They'd looked like…like…

"What if there's another reason?" she offered slowly, lifting her head.

"What?" Captain narrowed her eyes, studying Brighty. "Spit it out."

The idea was ludicrous.

To even think it—to even imagine it—

"What if…" Brighty took a deep breath, picturing Malek's stone-cold face as he offered her a choice all those years ago, no passion in his gaze and no pain, nothing but steel. Then she thought of Rafe, the fear and worry and caring in his eyes right before he took that idiotic leap off the main mast to single-handedly slay a dragon. Maybe she wanted to believe a king was someone who would risk everything to save a life rather than callously send one away. Maybe she simply yearned for a leader she actually wanted to follow. Or maybe, just maybe, it was true. "What if he's the King Born in Fire?"

"Are you drunk?"

"I know it sounds like I've had one dragon's breath too many, but what if it's true, Captain? I saw him with the queen tonight. They're connected somehow. Their spirits are tied. I know it, and I think King Malek knows it too. The way he looked at them—it was the look of a man whose world was falling out from under him. And if there's even a chance this might be true, don’t we need to take it? If not for ourselves, then for the world?"

Captain lifted her fingers to her temples, features pinching as though in pain. Then in one swift motion, she knelt and hooked her elbows beneath Rafe's shoulders. "Well, are you going to help me or not?"

Brighty grabbed his feet and tossed the metal blanket over her shoulder. "Where are we taking him?"

Captain glanced to her right toward the gangplank, then to her left toward the door. With a sigh, she said, "To his room. And by the time we get there, I want to know every detail of what happened tonight. Understood?"

Brighty grinned. "Aye, aye, Captain."

While they carried him below deck, she described Rafe's moment with the queen, his fight with the king, and his not-so-graceful fall from the skies. As Brighty's story ran out, silence descended—unreadable, impenetrable silence. Not saying a word, they settled Rafe on the bed, making sure his fiery wings were carefully wrapped in the mesh before stepping back into the hall. Brighty almost flinched when the door clicked shut, unable to stand the quiet. But Captain just lifted her palm to the wood grains, staring as though she could see through them to the man sleeping on the other side.

"Do you—"

"Tomorrow, Brighty." Captain dropped her arm from the door and walked toward her cabin, her voice as heavy as her thudding steps, trailing behind her like a weight. "When we're in the open seas, far away from the city, with some distance between us and the king's mages, we'll figure out the rest. Just give me until tomorrow."

Tomorrow, Brighty thought, her mood far lighter. She took the steps two at a time and burst through the door with a bang, weary and exhausted, yet somehow more alive than she'd felt in ages, as though seeing Effie had sealed a leaking wound and saving Rafe had closed another. Turning him into a king would be no easy job. Hell, he hardly passed for a sailor. But they'd find a way. If it was meant to be, the way she somehow knew it was, they'd find a way—tomorrow.

56

Lyana

As they flew to the House of Song, Lyana and Xander tightened their story. If anyone asked, they would say she disappeared during their mating ceremony as they pressed their palms to the god stone to murmur their vows. Xander had thought it was a trick played by Vesevios, some sort of magic he'd