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August 14 - August 15, 2025
To every woman who was told to make herself smaller and chose to burn brighter instead. Your fire can light up the world. This one’s for you.
But this is not your forever. This is not the day to base all other days on.”
He’d done it for her. To save her. But it ached no less for that fact. He knew in his bones that, bond or no, it would never end. He would be cursed to want the poisoner until the end of his days.
“Gold will turn to silver in a blaze of iron and embers, giving rise to ancient power long forgotten…”
For a whisper of time, home had smelled of black cedar and oakmoss, had tasted of dark promises and desire… had sounded like a husky laugh dancing along her skin.
Truth be told, Wren would have attended with or without orders—never again did she want to feel helpless or rely upon the strength of a man.
“But Audra doesn’t like the idea of us together for extended periods—she says that two magic wielders together, one of them a Warsword, is too much of a prize for the enemy to resist.”
“You loved her then as you love her today, and will for all the days that come after. You will always love her. That is the only thing that matters, Bear Slayer.”
“I didn’t fight in the fucking shadow war so a man could tell me where my place is.” Had they already lost the very thing they’d been fighting for?
“You…” The word slipped from Wren’s lips while her fingernails cut half-moons into her palms. As he reached them, Torj Elderbrock blocked out the sun. “Me.”
“Then I suppose you were right,” Wren quipped, not missing a beat. “It would never have worked between us, Warsword.” He blinked at her for a moment, not knowing whether to laugh or be offended. He nudged the cat away and returned his attention to the assembly.
“What was it like? Living there after the war?” “Peaceful,” she lied. “A strange description for a kingdom with a reputation dark enough to keep even the bravest folk away,” Torj said dryly.
“Fuck me like you hate me, Embers.”
“Are you telling me that while Wren and I were nearly fucking burned alive, nearly run down by a mob of fanatics… you were off somewhere stealing a leg of ham?” Kipp tore off a strip of meat and offered it to Torj. “It’s really good ham.”
“If you were my wife,” Torj said, his voice low and rough, “I wouldn’t let you go. So that’s what I’m doing.”
“That man burns for you, Wren. The sooner you both catch alight the better, lest you set the whole world ablaze.”
“No matter what happened between us…” Torj had to get the words out, had to let her know. “You’ll always be mine to protect.”
“You know,” Dessa said thoughtfully, “it just struck me that I’m rather unimportant next to two guarded royals all the time.”
“I don’t want a replacement,” Wren blurted, pushing the list back. Audra’s brow furrowed. “You don’t?” It was as though Wren were watching herself from a distance, a stranger to her own actions, her own words, even as they threatened to carve her open anew. “I’m his to protect,” she said. “And he’s mine.”
“I said, have a drink with me, Bear Slayer. Must I always promise not to poison it first?”
“A bodyguard threatening his charge? That must break the handbook rules…” “You’re unbelievable,” he said between gritted teeth. “I am indeed.”
“A true hero of the midrealms. Though he may prefer monsters to a cheering crowd, let’s hear it for him anyway! To Torj Elderbrock—”
“—may your ale never run dry, may your enemies always cower, and may you never run out of bears to slay!” Kipp shouted. “To the Bear Slayer! The man, the myth, the legend!”
“I did warn you that you were overindulging,” Kipp said with an infuriating smirk. “Horseshit. You practically poured the fire extract down my throat.” Kipp scoffed. “Let’s be realistic, Bear Slayer. Could I, with my mere average mortal strength, actually force you to do anything?”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a touch dramatic when you’re hungover?” Wren asked, her lips quirking to the side. “It’s not dramatic if you’re dying, Embers,” he replied gruffly, eyeing the offered drink suspiciously. Wren pushed it closer to him. “Who knew Warswords were such babies? It’s a rehydration tonic,” she added.
“I suspect any water in your poor body turned to sour mead long ago. You don’t need one.”
“For all the prophecies floating around the midrealms, you’d think one would come in handy every now and then.” “You’d think,” Wren agreed, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
“The feeling is mutual, Bear Slayer.” He smiled into her hair. “Why do I suddenly like that name again?” “Because it makes you feel like a king when I’m screaming it as I come on your cock,” she quipped.
“I never said I needed easy,” he told her. “I needed you.”
“That is a prophecy from the past, Your Majesty. It has already happened…” But Queen Reyna placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting it with a knowing smile. “Has it?”
“You don’t pass the Great Rite by being humble, Embers,”
“Prove it, Bear Slayer. Fuck me like I’m yours. Fuck me so I feel you for days.”
“His name was Andor Terling,” he answered, each word falling like a stone into still water. “But he goes by Silas the Kingsbane now.”
