“I was imagining it as I painted the wall.”

“Again, you premeditated!” I slapped his chest, and he chuckled. “If you give me the name of the contraceptive shot you had, I will source for more of them. I am keen that nothing interrupts our enjoyment of each other.” His tone indicated the understatement of the millennium.

“It’s called Depo-Provera. It’s supposed to last three months or so, and Paul has a few more doses.” When he’d injected me, I’d said, “The idea of living another three months feels far-fetched right now.” He’d replied, “Better safe than sorry, huh?”

Aric nodded. “I will be on the lookout for it.”

“You are not going anywhere without me, Reaper. The sooner you accept this as fact, the easier your life will be.” Husband training a two-millennia-old man was going to be a challenge.

Aric raised a brow at that. Then, seeming to make a decision, he eased me aside to get out of the bed. “I have something for you.” As he strode to our closet, I gawked at the sight of his flawless body.

The return view was even more rewarding.

He sat beside me and handed me a small jewelry box. “I want you to have this.”

I opened the box, finding a gorgeous gold ring, engraved with runes that called to mind his tattoos. An oval of amber adorned the band. Beautiful. The warm color reminded me of his eyes whenever he was pleased.

“It was my mother’s.” He took the ring out. “I never gave this to you in the past. But would you honor me by wearing it now?”

I nodded breathlessly. “Yes.”

“My homeland was famous for amber—from pine.” He slipped the ring on my finger, and it fit perfectly. Holding my gaze, he said, “We are wed now.”

First priest I find, I’m goan to marry you. Jack’s words. I recalled the love blazing from his gray gaze before I stifled the memory. “Aric, th-this is so beautiful. Thank you.”

“I’m pleased you like it.” He lay down again, pulling me against him.

I laid my palm over his heart, gazing at my wedding ring. “Of all the stones . . .” The symbol of his parents’ marriage had been derived from trees. Another waypoint.

“The amber’s significance wasn’t lost on me.” He grazed his fingertips up and down my back.

I bit my bottom lip. “I don’t have a ring for you yet.” However, I did have an idea where to get one. . . .

“I would wear yarn tied around my finger if it told the world I was taken by you.”

“If I’m your lawfully wedded wife, shouldn’t you call me by my name?” He parted his lips to speak, but I cut him off: “You’re about to tell me that my ever-changing names don’t matter, and maybe they didn’t in the past. But Evie is the Empress who was smart enough to give you a shot. E-V. Just toss the idea around and get back to me.”

He grinned. “I will toss the idea around.”

“And one more thing,” I told him. “I want you to read my chronicles.”

His hand stilled. “You mean that.”

“Of course. Even though I’m worried they’ll make you hate me again.”

“Impossible.”

Then I recalled some of Aric’s recent barbs. “On second thought, I should probably hold them back—since I’m not in your alliance and all.”

“What are you talking about?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “With Circe.”

“I was wondering if I could get a rise out of you.”

Rise and walk.

“For the record, you and I are not allies,” he said. “We are one entity now. Everything that is mine is yours.”

In a quiet tone, I asked, “Is my need for revenge yours as well?”

“Yes, I vow to you we will kill the Emperor. Which means training for you. Be careful what you wish for, sievā.”

42

Day 485 A.F.

“Strike with both,” Aric snapped, swatting my ass with the flat of his sword.

I was pouring sweat, exhausted, and in no mood.

“The oak and the vines—at the same time. Come now, wife, I’ve seen you do this before. I’ve felt you do this before.”

I put my hands on my knees, gazing at the oak I’d barely managed to grow, much less control. Between breaths, I said, “I think this is . . . one of those situations . . . where actions look easier . . . than they are.”

He expected me to practice on him. And he was too freaking quick. That hadn’t been the first time he’d swatted me.

The man hadn’t been kidding when he’d promised training. Every day for the last month, drizzle or downpour, he would escort me to the yard and then push me to the limit.

He pointed his sword toward the river. “Circe is brimming, and Fauna builds her army. If you want the Emperor dead, you must become stronger as well.”

The Priestess’s moat grew broader and deeper by the day, overflowing more of the countryside, creeping up the mountain. We were officially an island.

Lark continued breeding her creatures, our island population swelling.

Aric and I helped with them whenever she searched for Richter and Finn. She still hadn’t lost hope that she’d find him. He might have died, but without the Arcana calls, we couldn’t know.

Aric and I had recently delivered Maneater’s litter of six war-wolves. Lark said Scarface was the father, but I refused to believe it. I’d told Cyclops, “You old dog, you’ve still got it going on, don’t you?”