Excerpt

Instead of going to her rooms, Taryn asked to walk while she processed everything Lliandra had told her. They strolled through the vast gardens, Rhoane keeping the conversation to a minimum, speaking only to point out a certain flower or plant he thought Taryn might like.

They passed fountains and hedges cut in ornamental shapes. Their steps crunched on crushed seashell paths, echoing in the quiet night. Eventually they made their way through a tall maze at the outer edge of the garden, where they stood beside a low wall overlooking the ocean.

A soft breeze cut through the summer heat, and Taryn shivered. Rhoane moved close behind her, skimming his hands down her bare arms, wrapping them around her waist. It would be too easy to give in to the delicious feel of his embrace, to sink back and drown in the familiar scent of him.

Reluctantly, she pulled away to face him. "Rhoane, don't. You're promised to another."

"Taryn," he whispered, "you are my betrothed."

The words hung between them, Taryn not trusting herself to speak.

"Does this displease you?"

"It pleases me very much." If he could feel the rapid pace of her heart or the tightening of her chest, he wouldn't have had to ask. "I never thought I'd hear those words said to me."

His lips touched hers, gentle, inquisitive. Sound vanished as her blood pulsed in her ears. Taryn surrendered to the kiss, letting go of the control she'd fought to hold on to for so long.

Thrilling sparks of fire blazed through every nerve, pooling in a knot below her belly button. Lliandra's words were a distant memory as Taryn sloughed off her disquiet and allowed herself to be in the moment. Rhoane's kiss deepened, and she opened herself to him. There was no Aelinae, no Earth, nothing but the two of them. They floated in a sphere of their own making, their hands and lips and bodies making up the earth and stars.

A need, deep and low and powerful, tugged at her. Taryn raked her nails up his tunic to bury them in his hair. The silky softness of his curls undid her and she moaned against his mouth.

He pulled back, eyes lidded, and left her breathless, wanting more. Much more. A thousand questions twirled in her thoughts, but one pushed to the forefront. The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "How can I be your betrothed? I'm not Eleri."

"You are much more than either Eleri or Aelan." He traced a finger along her jaw, running his thumb over her lips.

A jag of excitement rippled beneath her skin, alighting her senses, heightening her need. She stared at his eyes, focusing on his words, but not his lips. These emotions were too new, too raw for her to contain. One glance at those lips that made her knees go weak and she'd be lost. Was already lost. The thought terrified her.

"When I was born," Rhoane continued, a shiver echoing in his words, "the Eleri goddess Verdaine prophesied that I would leave my people and live among the Aelans. I would be an exile, a sheanna, among the Eleri. I would live as an outcast in both my land and that of the Aelans, never fully accepted by either, but it was also said that one day a child would be born of the Light and Dark. A very special child who would need my help if she were to succeed in her quest to bring balance back to the world."

"You left your people? That must be awful."

"It is for a purpose greater than my own." He smiled, and it melted her insides as surely as a flame to chocolate. "You, Princess Taryn, are the one Verdaine prophesied when I was born."

"So you believe I'm this anomaly—the Eirielle."

"I do."

"You gave up a kingdom for me…" She spoke more to herself than to him, her words trailed away on the breeze.

"What I gained is worth more than all the crowns in the world."

Everything Lliandra had told her, coupled with Rhoane's revelation, was too much for Taryn to bear. The responsibility settled heavy upon her with crushing permanence. There had been signs—the cavern, Rhoane's cryptic words about his betrothed, Baehlon's insistence she learn to master the sword—all of it threatened to drown her.

Tiny lights blinked on the ocean, a ship sailing into Talaith's harbor most likely, and for one impossible moment Taryn saw herself running from the palace and stowing away. Except, she had never run from a challenge in her life and wasn't about to start now. She needed time. Time to sort through her feelings for Rhoane. Time to understand what it was Lliandra expected of her. Time to accept her fate.

Of everything she'd been given, time was the only luxury she was denied.