A River of Golden Bones (Golden Court, #1)

by A.K. Mulford

My father has sent me to Valta for schooling. I will be unable to visit for the foreseeable future, but I’m sure I’ll have even more stories to share when I do. This is a protection stone. Wear it always. I’m sorry, little fox. Don’t forget me. G

She was strong and soft, masculine and feminine, threatening and enticing, all at once. Briar knew how to be a princess, but this . . . whatever this was . . . I could be.

The tips of my ears tingled as I looked up at him. His storming eyes met mine, and I had to wring my hands together to not reach out and touch him. I couldn’t handle being this close to him as his bonfire scent wrapped around me. That golden wine hummed in my veins.

I pinned him in place with my knife.

I curled my lip at the word “girl.” I had always hated being called girl, even when I’d been the right age for the word, though I resented being called lady just as much now. Why call me such trivial things when I could be called a warrior, a Wolf, a royal?

had always taken my cue from Briar. Whatever she was, I was the opposite—if she liked sweets, I only wanted savory. If she wore pastels, I wore earth tones. If she wanted to be the center of attention, I wanted to be a shadow. I always knew how to be by looking at her. Who would I be if I had to decide on my own? I couldn’t put my finger on why, there were no words to describe it, but none of my options felt right.

gut clenched, thinking of what they had said, because I couldn’t even pick a color, let alone an object that symbolized me—mostly because I didn’t know any of those things about myself. Briar would have a badge in mind in a heartbeat, but me? How do you depict a shadow? Would they even let someone have a blank black badge?

The sound called to the most primal part of me, and the shift took me by surprise. With a sweet pain and sharp release, I fell onto all fours. I whirled in a circle, looking at my swishing red tail. Never had something triggered the shift in me like that. It had come on so fast I couldn’t even think, the Wolf in me instantly reacting to his howl. I loved and hated it all at once, that my body could react to him so acutely. I felt out of control and a strange belonging all at the same time. All those contradictory feelings battled within me, trying to make sense of this white-hot burning in my gut.

“You’d let me do it, wouldn’t you? You’d let me fuck you right here?” His fingers dug into my fleshy thigh and he let out a deep chuckle. “You want me that badly?”

“But when I have you, I’m going to make you moan my name so loud even the moon will hear.” My breath hitched as heat pooled in my core. “And then the Goddess will know for certain that she was right for giving me to you.”

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh😍

I wasn’t sure if he was jealous of my attention or if they’d ever been something more, but that betrayal in his eyes was as clear as the twinkling stars overhead.

My words unleashed him. He prowled toward me, his hand wrapping under my jaw as he shoved me against the wall. Before I could gasp, his lips crashed into mine, his chest pinning me in place. My groaning yes was muffled against his lips as his tongue dipped into my mouth in a hot, feverish kiss. His mouth was craving and wild as he plundered my own, his body molding into mine from shoulders to knees so tightly I didn’t know where he ended and I began. The muscles in my core fluttered, desperate, as I ground into him, aching for more friction, for more of him.

Why was this so hard for me? Why couldn’t I just pick one? These answers shouldn’t feel like a knife twisting in my gut, forcing me to reflect on everything that I am.

“I-I just don’t know that woman is the right word for what I am. I’ve always had one foot outside of it, felt further away from that name than others somehow. It’s not who I am, nor who I want to be.” I felt lighter and lighter as the words tumbled out, speaking my deepest confession aloud for the first time. “I like my body better when I don’t have to be her. I like my voice, my clothing, my personality . . . I like me better. It feels like the most honest thing I could be—both a part of and outside of—and moving through everything in between, and yet, I don’t have a word for it . . .”

I am going to cry

was merem. It meant “with the river.” I loved that. With the river—flowing, carving its own path. That river was taking me further away from all the things I was told I should be. It was the language of my people, and yet, not my word. Wolves spoke in only black and white, but I was now filled with every color.

And with one simple word, merem, Ora mended a broken part of me, too.

They had left a flowing garnet ensemble for me hanging on a tack hook. Fawn trousers hugged my legs, the hem of the dress cut short at the front and trailing in a train of bloodred feathers at the back. Feathers created epaulettes on the shoulders, matching the feathers in my mask, and the front of the dress was double-breasted with carved golden buttons. Black-heeled boots completed the outfit, making me look both carnival-like and military in styling, an odd combination that made me feel strange yet powerful.

His cheeks dimpled as he pulled out of me, licking his thumb and circling my throbbing clit again. I moaned louder, the warm press of his thumb enough to make my muscles ease and my pussy even wetter. He pushed back inside me, that slow, delicious friction setting me on fire. His lips devoured mine as he repeated the movement. Over and over, that slow tortuous movement lit up every inch of my body until I couldn’t take that relentless building anymore. I needed my release and I needed him to give it to me. My fingers clawed down his back as my heels dug into his ass, spurring him to move faster, letting him know with my body that I needed more. His hips moved in rolling thrusts, a little faster and deeper each time, testing me as his dark hair fell into his eyes. His arm muscles strained beside my head as he looked down at me.

I had no name, no body, no history beyond this moment. I was a symphony of pure pleasure.

But even if I didn’t remember her, Olmdere City remembered me.