The Raven and the Dove by Kaitlyn Davis

Author:Kaitlyn Davis [Davis, Kaitlyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-09T04:00:00+00:00

31

Xander

“You should go talk to her,” Rafe whispered, jolting Xander from his reverie.

“Huh? What?” He shook his head and pulled his gaze from where it had been lingering—on the princess. They’d arrived at the outpost an hour ago, a small set of crystal buildings right on the edge of the House of Peace, a place for a little rest before the long flight home tomorrow.

As soon as they’d landed, his mate had walked right up to the spot where land gave way to air and plopped on the cold stone, staring out at empty space. Her friend had been by her side for a while but must have gotten cold. All the ravens had come inside to escape the chill, but the princess remained outside, as though the ice of her home lived in her veins and didn’t bother her in the slightest.

“You’ve been staring out the wall for ten minutes. Just go say hello,” Rafe prodded.

“I don’t think she wants to talk.”

“I don’t think she knows what she wants.”

Xander snorted, gaping at Rafe in amazement. “Oh, and you do? You know what a princess who’s been lied to, matched with a foreign prince, and practically tossed from her homeland wants? You know that?”

"Fine," Rafe relented, half growling the word. “Maybe I don’t know what she wants, but I know she’s your mate. And I know you need to start somewhere, Xander. The longer you two go without talking, the worse it will get. So…” He let the words trail off as his gaze darted around the sitting room, searching for inspiration. In a flash of motion, he grabbed a fur throw from a nearby chair. “Take this. Tell her you thought she might be cold. See what she says. If nothing else, she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

“I don’t know, Rafe,” Xander murmured, ignoring the blanket as he glanced at Lyana's solitary figure once more.

“Just go, Xander.”

Rafe pushed him, but Xander held his ground, digging his feet in. If he was going to talk to his mate, it would be on his terms. He squared his shoulders, shook the tension from his wings, and turned toward the door of his own accord. Of course, he didn’t take a step forward, because, well, his feet were frozen with fear, his heart thrummed wildly, and his tongue felt fat and idle, with nothing to say. Instead, he stood there for a minute, gathering his courage, trying to take deep, even breaths.

Finally, he gave in and turned around to snatch the blanket—the gods if Rafe’s idea wasn’t a good one—but when he looked at his brother, he paused.

Rafe stared out the window, the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Something in his eyes took Xander back to a different time, years ago, when he’d found his brother in much the same position, standing in the rubble of a scorched room, staring at the sun burning in the morning sky. It had been the day of the king’s funeral, but Rafe had been more interested in paying his respects to his mother, a woman no one else bothered to remember.

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