Forging Silver into Stars Forging Silver into Stars #1

“Are you attempting to threaten me?”

“Threaten you!” Rhen laughs. “No. I am attempting to warn you.”

“Please don’t take action at your expense.”

“At my expense? I am the brother to the king. Acting regent in Grey’s stead. If Lord Alek chooses to attack a member of this court, then the expense will be his own.”

I’m staring at him, half in shock, half in wonder.

Harper smiles, then laughs a little wickedly. “Grey might be good with a sword, and he might have the magic, but when it comes to words and strategy, no one beats Rhen.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

He smiles, then traces a finger under her chin. “Certainly not that one. He’s playing a game I perfected ages ago.”

My cheeks warm at their casual affection. I take a step back, intending to excuse myself, to leave them to their own meal, their privacy, their time together.

“A sword isn’t a weapon of warning,” he says. He steps closer, changing the angle of the blade so it remains at my neck. “If you aren’t willing to use it, you may as well put it down.”

I keep my breathing very shallow. "And you’re willing to use it?” I whisper.

“Always.” He’s moved very close, until I can feel the warmth of his body. The blade is a narrow barrier between us.

“Is this going to be our standard greeting?” he says. “Should I always arrive armed?”

“Don’t you anyway?”

...

I shiver, then change the grip on the sword until the blade points down.

I hold it out to him. “You don’t have to leave.” I pause. “I shouldn’t have pointed this at you.”

“On the contrary. I’m rather fond of your greetings.”

“I swore to you,” he says softly. “Yes?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I keep my word.” He pauses, drawing back to look at me. “In truth,” he says, “you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And I’m not confined to the forge.”

My heart skips. I can’t speak.

I want to tell him everything. But now it’s too late. He’s leaving. Again.

Tycho notices immediately, because he rises up, taking my hands, pressing them between his. “It will not be weeks or months or never, Jax. I swear to you.”

I swear to you. I don’t think anyone has ever sworn anything to me. My chest is tight all the same. I know his role, how his schedule is at the mercy of the king.

He lifts a hand to brush a thumb across my cheek. “A week,” he whispers. “At most.”

I nod.

I knew this part would hurt. And he’s not even leaving yet.

...

I look into Tycho’s brown eyes, so much darker than eyes native to Syhl Shallow. I will not make you wait so long.

“Yes, my lord,” I whisper.

His eyes fall closed. “Jax.”

He kisses me lightly, then withdraws to sit back on his heels. His cheeks are a bit flushed, his hair a bit wild. “As I said, far too little practice with courtship.”

...

“Tycho.” I pull my hands down and stare at him in wonder. “You saved my life and served me dinner and kissed me senseless—and now you’re kneeling on the ground at my feet. Somehow you believe you have too little practice with courtship?”

He pulls back just enough to whisper against my lips. “Stop?”

... I have to swallow. He truly is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’m afraid to touch him now, as if he’ll vanish. But he’s so close that I can’t not touch him.

...

Maybe that’s what gives me the courage to shift a little closer so I can whisper along his jaw. “Stop?”

I shouldn’t do this.... I shouldn’t be thinking about his lips or his hands or imagining the taste of his breath.

But I am, and once I have the thought, there’s no room for anything else. I tangle my hand in his hair, then slip out of my chair to press my mouth to his.

Please stop leaving me with memories that will only hurt later.

I turn the words around in my head and examine them from all angles, until I see them from the clearest one: the first three words. Please stop leaving.

...

He gives me a rueful look. “You’re going to make this memory hurt more than the others.”

I draw back, but he catches my hand, his thumb gentle against my palm. “I don’t think I’ll mind the pain of this one.”