13 DAYS
I’m up at dawn.
Dressing quickly, I head down the hallway, and before I can even register where I’m going, I’ve stopped outside Serena’s door.
I stand there staring at the smooth oak finish and give it a tentative knock. My fingers curl into fists at my side, squeezing before slowly flexing open—a tactic we were taught in training to help calm the nervous system.
And nervous is an understatement of what I feel right now.
What am I doing? Hoping reason abandons her and she decides to forgive all the shitty things I’ve said and done?
Yesterday’s reunion was a disaster. As if she needed more reasons to resent me after the way I acted in Vod. I apologized for calling her a whore, only to do it again.
My jealousy is getting the better of me. It’s not just Kylian. It’s Zadyn too. It’s every male she looks at who isn’t me. My insecurities are being transferred to her, and I know it isn’t fair or right.
All I wanted to do yesterday was fall at her feet. Tell her how excruciating these last few weeks without her were. How I never wantto go that long without seeing her face again. I don’t want to go a day, an hour, a gods-damnedminutewithout her.
She’ll probably tell me to go fuck myself, and she has every right to. But I have to try, I have to?—
The door opens, bringing my inner monologue to a screeching halt.
Zadyn stands in her doorway, barefoot and shirtless.
I don’t like that. Not one bit. In fact, I fucking hate that.
A torrent of envy sweeps through me, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to throttle him and beat his face in.
“Are you okay?” Zadyn squints at me, running a hand through his mussed hair.
Am I okay? Hah. No, I’m going to end you.
I set my jaw, tightening my fists again. “I was just looking for Serena.”
Zadyn pushes the door a bit wider, and her scent hits me like bricks. She pops into view beneath his arm, clothed in a nightdress and robe, thank gods.
“Hey,” she says, rubbing her eyes, her voice raspy and sleepy and utterly tempting. She scans my face with concern. “Is everything okay?”
I stare between the two of them, their messy hair, Serena’s rumpled clothes—my mind going to some dark places. The one thing that keeps me from losing it is the fact that their scents haven’t mingled. Which means nothing intimate happened.
Not that it matters. I’m getting married, and Serena has the right to do whatever she wants with whomever she wants.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.
Usually it takes a little more than the sight of them together to rile me this much, but being pent up behind a desk all day with these newfound royal duties has me on edge. My magic has become this incessant itch—one that can only be scratched by letting it out.
While I’ve been contemplating cutting off Zadyn’s air supply to dispel some of that excess energy, the two of them have been waiting for my answer.
“Yes,” I blurt. “I thought you might want to get back to training.”
“I probably should.” Her eyes skirt toward Zadyn as if seeking his permission. Or approval. He nods, and she looks back at me. “Okay. Just let me get dressed.”
I pace the hall until the door swings open to the two of them fully dressed—Serena in those leathers that hug her legs and chest in a way that simply isn’t fair.
“You’re coming too?” I spit, unable to bite my tongue. Zadyn flashes me a smug little smirk.
“She asked me to.”
“She ask you to be shirtless in her room, too, or was that just a fashion choice?”
