7

I burned with envy—not from Kodan’s extensive travel, but just from the chance Fina had to pick her brain in private. It made climbing back into the carriage with Elias even more frustrating. As we made our way back onto the road, Elias looked just as irritated as me as he reviewed the documents.

By sunset, we had made it out of the forest and back onto the bald streets of Frasia, then to the inn we were staying at for the night. It was a large timber and brick building with a thatched roof, and a lamp burning over the sign that declared its unfortunate name: the Bloody Nightingale. It was the largest structure for miles, with the others around it mostly small subsistence farms.

Elias climbed out of the coach first and stretched his arms luxuriously overhead. His spine popped, and he groaned with pleasure. “Gods, I hate those carriages,” he grumbled. “I have half a mind to run the rest of the way.”

“I don’t know if that’d make a great first impression,” I teased.

“Oh, gods,” he said again. “Don’t make me think about all the pomp and circumstance we’ll have to go through. Let’s at least get a good meal first.”

“Good gods in the highest heavens, I need a drink,” Kodan said as she clambered out of her carriage. Fina and Adora were on her tail, laughing. Kodan waved us all toward the inn. “This place has the finest braised lamb you’ll ever taste. Let’s go, I need a brandy.”

My mood lifted over our boisterous, laughter-filled dinner, with the five of us crowded around a table in the corner of the busy inn. It was clearly doing double duty as the only good tavern around for miles. The braised lamb was delicious, and Kodan ordered a round of brandy for all of us as the rich soup and crackling fire soothed the aches I’d received from the long day of travel. She ran the table like a professional, sharing stories of bar fights and drunken mishaps. Here, briefly, I remembered the moments I’d had with Elias in private, during the Choice, before we were king and queen. When all of us had a moment to step out of our required roles, it was easy. Elias was generous and insightful and let Kodan tell jokes at his expense. I loved spending time with Elias the man, and Elias the wolf. It was the king that caused problems. But when his knee pressed against mine under the table, I didn’t move away either.

After dinner, the elderly but quick-moving innkeeper led us upstairs and showed us to our rooms. Kodan, Fina, and Adora were in one room, with two single beds and some space on the floor, while Elias and I would share a bigger bed. Elias thanked the innkeeper with a hefty sack of coin—the inn was crowded, and it was a miracle we got rooms at all.

“I know this isn’t ideal.” He closed the door behind us, softening the noise of the tavern downstairs to a low murmur.

The space was small, occupied mostly by the bed and the tiled mosaic hearth with a low fire burning. There was a sheepskin rug on the hardwood floor in front of the hearth. Elias nodded at it. “I’ll sleep there.”

“On the floor?” I asked.

“It’s quite comfortable in my wolf form,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to invade your privacy.”

I swallowed. We hadn’t shared a bed since the wedding—I always chose to stay in my own quarters. His deference surprised me.

“That’s not necessary,” I said. “I think we’re capable of sharing a bed like adults.”

“Or wolves,” Elias said with a careful smile.

I nodded and busied myself pulling my toiletries from my rucksack, willing the flush to leave my cheeks. “Sharing is fine. I won’t make the King of Frasia sleep on the floor.”

“But you know I would do it,” he said. “If you asked.”

I looked up. Elias pulled off his cloak and hung it on the hook by the hearth, then rubbed the back of his neck, his dark eyes watching me carefully. His gaze was warm, like a physical touch, making my wolf whine with desire I felt in my chest. Being away from the manor was already making the icy barrier I’d built against him start to melt.

“I’m stiff from the travel,” he said. “Go on a run with me?”

I balked, defenses snapping back up, even as my wolf leapt to attention. “A run?”

“Sure,” he said. “Just a quick jaunt through the fields. It’ll loosen me up, get some energy out. And the moonlight always helps with the aches.”

“You can’t be serious,” I said. “Someone might see us.”

“That’s no problem.” Elias undid the top few buttons of his plain shirt, then rolled the sleeves up to his forearms. It was a casually handsome motion, one that made my gut clench with the desire to step closer, and feel those hands on me again. I pushed that inclination deep down inside. “We’re still in Frasia,” he continued, “and most of the folks out here are wolves, or familiar with them. Seeing wolves on a run isn’t anything strange.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Why does it make you so nervous?”

I undid the plait in my hair, just for something to do with my hands. “It’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. I’m still getting used to it.”

“To what?” he asked.

“Shifting,” I said. “In Nightfall, everyone shifts so… so carelessly.”

“It’s not careless,” he said gently. “It’s natural.”

“It was different in Daybreak,” I said. “From the moment I could walk, my father ingrained in me that I needed to control my wolf. That shifting too often was a sign of weakness.”

“Our wolves are our strength,” Elias said. “It doesn’t serve us to keep them locked down—to pretend that they aren’t part of us.”

“I don’t deny that,” I said, even though a twinge in my chest suggested that might not be completely true. “It’s just a different relationship than the ones the Nightfall wolves have.”