Page 47 of Realms of Shadow and Sun
She whirled around, her heart leaping into her throat. Grayden stood there, one hand gripping her bedpost as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His eyes, those deep pools of green she had dreamed of for weeks, locked onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath.
“Grayden!” His name escaped her lips in a choked sob as she flung herself into his arms.
He crushed her against his chest, his muscular frame enveloping her completely. “My Little Fawn!” His voice was rough with emotion, muffled against her hair.
Grayden's embrace was almost painfully tight, but Renya reveled in it. She couldn't see his face, pressed as she was against him, but she felt the dampness of his tears on her scalp. Her own sobs wracked her body, weeks of pent-up emotion pouring out of her. Her legs buckled, and they sank to the floor together, neither willing to loosen their grip.
Grayden cupped her cheek with one calloused hand, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “Don't cry, my love,” he murmured, his voice thick. “It's okay. We're okay.”
“I know this reunion is long overdue, but sadly, we don't have time for it.”
Renya lifted her head from Grayden's chest, her gaze falling on her father's face. Cyrus's blue eyes sparkled with barely contained emotion, a telltale glimmer of moisture at their corners.
“You came back for me,” she breathed, her eyes darting between the two men. As her gaze shifted, she noticed another figure hovering in the background.
“Phillippe!” She made to move towards him, but Grayden's arms tightened around her, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
Phillippe's lips quirked in a half-smile. “I'll give you a hug later, Renya. Once my brother finally releases you.”
“I'll never release her,” Grayden murmured, burying his face in Renya's hair. She felt his breath, hot against her neck, as he inhaled deeply, as if reacquainting himself with her scent.
“Grayden, you need to let my daughter go,” Cyrus said gently, his tone tinged with urgency. “We don't have much time, and this rescue needs to go perfectly.”
Renya twisted in Grayden's embrace, reluctant to break contact but needing to face her father. “What do you mean?”
Cyrus's expression grew serious. “Do you know where Cressida's chambers are?”
Renya shook her head. “No, we've only met in the throne room and sometimes in her study.”
Her father nodded, a flicker of concern crossing his features. “Sion told me where they are. They're across the sky bridge, to the right. You're going to have to run for it and act like you're trying to get to her for help. It's the only way to maintain the illusion that you're loyal to her and that your mating bond is broken. Phillippe and Grayden will take out any guards that come to your aid, and I'll deal with Cressida. My magic isn't strong enough to defeat her after breaking the blood promises, but I can hopefully hold her off.”
Renya's stomach churned with anxiety. “Won't that be dangerous?” Her eyes flicked between the three men, worry etching itself across her face.
“It's the only way,” Cyrus replied, his jaw set with determination. “Let us catch up, and we'll grab you. Then I'll transport us to the edge of the forest. My magic won't allow me to get us all the way back to the Snow Lands, so we'll have to run for it.”
“She'll catch us,” Renya warned, her voice tight with fear. “Her dragon will hunt us down.”
“Don't worry about that. I can cloak us until we get to the Spring Lands. They'll give us shelter.” Despite the confidence in Cyrus's voice, Renya couldn't shake the dread that settled in her gut. The plan seemed reckless, fraught with potential disaster. If anything went wrong, Cressida could hurt or kill Grayden now that the blood promise was broken. And once she saw Renya vanish with Cyrus, she would know that the magic binding her to Cressida had long since dissipated.
“Don't worry, Little Fawn. I won't let anything happen to you.” Grayden's lips brushed her hairline in a tender kiss, sending a shiver down her spine. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the flood of emotions his touch evoked.
“I'm not worried about myself,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It's you three I'm concerned about. Cressida really thinks that I'm loyal to her. I don't think she would hurt me at this point.”
Grayden's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of pride and concern flickering across his features. “That's...amazing, Renya. We could definitely use that to our advantage.”
“We can plan all this out later. Let's get going,” Phillippe interjected, his hand moving to the hilt of his broadsword.
Renya opened the pillowcase and handed Grayden her journal. He tucked it swiftly into his tunic, the movement betraying a hint of nervousness. “It won't make sense if I'm running with that in my hands,” she explained.
He pressed another kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if to memorize the feel of her skin. Then he turned to face Cyrus and Phillippe, his posture straightening as he slipped into the role of leader. “Are you ready?”
The men nodded, their faces set with grim determination. Renya took a deep breath, steadying herself for what was to come. She slipped out the door, her bare feet silent on the cold stone floor.
The hall stretched before her, deserted and foreboding. The servants had long since retired, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake. “Let me get past the throne room, and then I'll start screaming,” Renya whispered, her voice barely audible.
They moved like shadows through the empty corridors, pausing at the slightest sound. Occasionally, they ducked into alcoves or vacant rooms to avoid the night guards on their rounds. The journey to the throne room seemed to stretch on endlessly, each step fraught with the possibility of discovery.
Finally, they reached the throne room. Renya's heart pounded in her chest, the sound deafening in her own ears. “Ready, Renya?” Cyrus asked, his voice low and tense.
