Page 109 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
Mal gave a small shrug. ‘Perhaps.’
Ash reached for her hand beneath the table and squeezed, grounding and warm. ‘Mal and I will s-spend the mor-morning with the wy-wyverns.’
‘I wish to fly,’ she added.
Morthos’ dark stare drifted, almost instinctively, to the gentle curve of her stomach. ‘Is it wise, in your condition?’
Mal snorted softly. ‘Uncle. Wyverian queens have flown with child since the dawn of time. I believe I shall survive a short flight.’
He inclined his head and returned his attention to his plate, long strands of hair falling forward to shield his expression.
‘I could cut your hair for you,’ she offered suddenly.
The words surprised even her. She did not quite understand why she felt compelled to extend such kindness. Perhaps some small, inconvenient part of her did not hate him entirely. Perhaps she recognised in him, what it meant to be shaped and twisted by their mother’s will.
Morthos looked up sharply. Surprise flashed in his eyes, followed by something warier. As though he could not decide whether her offer concealed a blade.
‘It must be difficult to cut your own,’ Mal continued lightly, tilting her head, a crooked smile ghosting over her lips. ‘I’m not planning to slit your throat, Morthos. If that is what troubles you.’
She ignored the subtle warning tug Ash gave her hand.
‘I know,’ Morthos said, clearing his throat.
‘Are you certain?’
Ash cleared his own throat more firmly and rose, gently pulling Mal to her feet. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck before turning to Morthos. ‘We will go to the wy-wyverns now. Ignore my wi-wife. She likes to tease.’ His smile was almost painfully sincere as he regarded the wyverian, who looked both mournful and uncertain beneath the curtain of his hair. ‘Trust me. It’s a good sign if she t-teases you. It means she li-likes you.’
Mal reached for one of Ash’s dragon horns, but he ducked away with a laugh. She followed him out of the keep and down the narrow path that wound towards the beach. The wyverns had gathered there at dawn—Morthos’ wild beasts and her own—vast silhouettes against the restless sea.
Ash lingered only long enough to ensure Mal was securely seated upon Nyx before making his way to Daku. Mal stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her purple eyes in theatrical exasperation at his concern.
‘I’m a wyverian,’ she reminded him. ‘Perfectly capable of mounting a wyvern. Pregnant or not.’
‘I know,’ he replied, swinging up onto Daku’s back. ‘But I like fussing over you.’
Her eyes narrowed with dangerous amusement. ‘Is that so?’ A teasing smile curved her lips. ‘Let’s see if you can keep up.’
‘Don’t—’
She was already laughing as Nyx unfurled her vast, shadow-dark wings and hurled herself into the sky. Mal did not grant him a heartbeat more. The wind tore at her hair as the wyvern surged forward, and she heard Ash swear behind her, urging Daku into pursuit.
Mal’s laughter scattered across the beach like gull cries as she skimmed low over the sand before directing Nyx out above the storm-lashed sea. The air tasted of salt and freedom. It had been so long since she had felt this unbound that the sensation bordered on pain.
Ash caught up with her over the water, laughter still clinging to his lips as he twisted to ensure the rest of the wyverns followed in a loose, living constellation behind them. She watched him, watched the way his golden eyes shone, bright with unguarded joy, and tried to carve the image into her very soul, so that even when she was gone, it would remain.
‘I love you,’ she mouthed when he glanced back at her.
It was both beautiful and unbearable to witness the way his entire face illuminated at those silent words. Such a small confession, and yet it transformed him utterly. In that suspended moment, she longed for the power to still time itself, to stretch this fragile joy thin and endless, so that the future could never reach forward and prise them apart.
They drifted back towards the beach at an unhurried pace, the wyverns descending in wide, graceful arcs before settlingupon the dark sands. Ash was at her side within moments of leaping from Daku, his hand already reaching for hers, as if afraid she might vanish should he delay.
‘What if we stayed here?’ Mal asked when his arms wrapped around her. She pressed her forehead lightly against his chest. ‘When Medea is born… we could remain. The three of us.’
For a fleeting breath she saw it reflected in his golden eyes—a quiet life carved from storm and ruin, a fragile sanctuary untouched by prophecy. But the light in him dimmed almost at once, shadowed by something heavier. He shook his head.
‘Promise me you won’t ha-hate me,’ he murmured, his lips hovering so close to hers that his words brushed her skin. ‘For everything that is to co-come our way.’
Mal squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers tightening around his arms as though anchoring herself against a rising tide.
