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Sartaq chuckled. “At least they’re a little
more clear about it now.”
Nesryn snorted, brush gliding over Salkhi’s
feathers. “I’m as confused as ever.”
“The riders whose tents lie on either side of
Borte’s aren’t.”
Nesryn’s brows rose, but she smiled.
“Good. Not about the riders, but—about
them.”
“War does strange things to people. Makes
everything more urgent.” He ran a hand down
the back of her head, his fingers twining in her
hair before he murmured in her ear, “Come to
bed.”
Heat flared through her body. “We’ve a
battle to launch tomorrow. Again.”
“And a day of death has made me want to
hold you,” the prince said, giving her that
disarming grin she had no defenses against.
Especially as he added, “And do other things