feeling the rhythm of her breath. After last night, he had not a single doubt in his mind that she was his mate. Even so far from his family at such a bad time, he hadn’t felt angry and panicked and as if he was in the wrong skin.
Because Andromeda was here and because she understood him.
Though she’d only known him for a short time, she’d understood he’d come to her because he needed contact, needed someone to hold on to while he waited for news about Illium. She might play and fight with him in normal life but when it was serious, she was right there, her arms strong and her affection a passionately protective force.
He was going to win her, no matter what.
And he’d find that stupid Grimoire book so he could put his scent all over her, inside her.
Getting out of bed before he rolled her over onto her back, parted her thighs and sank inside her wet tightness, he tugged gently on the braid in which she insisted on taming her pretty hair. “Wake up. It’s time.”
* * *
Andromeda took in Naasir’s expression the instant she woke, was happy to see that he looked more like his usual self. The painful hours since he’d woken her in the night had made it clear he cared deeply for his family . . . would care as deeply for the woman who was his. Andromeda wanted to be that woman so much it hurt.
Shoving down the need lest it paralyze her, she got ready. Isabel had found her some combat leathers that fit, the leather worn-in and the shade a dusty brown perfect for this mission. The pants hugged her legs, while the top—which she’d worn over a tank top modified for wings—left her arms bare but came up to her neck and fit snugly around her wings.
Soon after her meeting with Caliane, Andromeda had started wearing in the boots she’d found in the closet, and though they remained stiff, they were far better than flimsy slippers. As for the scabbard Isabel had given her, it was perfect. “I’m ready,” she said, joining Naasir out on the balcony ten minutes after he’d woken her.
He was dressed in a sand-colored T-shirt and cargo pants of desert camouflage, boots on his feet.
While the two of them ate a quick breakfast, Avi and Isabel went out with a squadron and dealt with the four enemy lurkers. Since Amanat was Caliane’s heart, it hadn’t been built to house prisoners. Avi’s only choice was either to execute the prisoners or send them elsewhere.
“He plans to place them on a prison ship once he’s finished the interrogation,” Isabel told Naasir and Andromeda after flying back to confirm things had gone exactly as planned. “It’s anchored deep in the ocean, so even if Lijuan’s people figure out where they are and mount a prison break, it won’t put Amanat at risk.”
“Thank you for the safe harbor,” Andromeda said, touching both hands to Isabel’s. “Please thank Lady Caliane too.” Raphael’s mother was with her maidens and not to be disturbed. “I hope we’ll spar again one day, Isabel.”
“Of course—I must reclaim my honor.” A quiet smile. “Safe journey, my friends.”
Andromeda and Naasir left quietly, slipping out into the early morning darkness like wraiths. They’d decided she couldn’t afford to fly, not yet. Since this entire country had been part of Lijuan’s territory before Caliane awoke, Lijuan had spies and loyalists throughout. Should Andromeda be spotted, the enemy might decide to shoot her down, or to take her in the air where Naasir couldn’t back her up.
“It’s so peaceful this time of day,” she said as they walked through the forest outside Amanat. “Even the monkeys are asleep.”
“They’re not asleep—they’re just not sure about you.” Reaching out, he ran his hand down her back and over her wings. “Now they know you’re mine.”
She couldn’t restrain her shiver. His eyes seemed to glow. “I’m going to find the Grimoire.”
The low, deep promise sent a surge of pure want through her veins, temptation an ache in her breasts, tension in her abdomen, damp readiness between her thighs. “I’d break my vow for you,” she whispered, heartbroken at the idea that she might never know him as intimately as a woman could know a man.
Fangs flashing, Naasir bent to her throat to breathe deep. But even as her eyes began to close, her blood honey, he pulled back and shook his head, the shaggy silver of his hair glinting in