“Thank you, Prince Anders, for rescuing my daughter,” my father says genuinely. “But if you wouldn’t mind carrying her back to her bed, her mother would be extremely grateful for her return.”
I can hardly believe my ears. Did my father just say that? The man who should be storming in, demanding that Anders release me, is instead suggesting he carry me? My jaw drops in disbelief.
“Yes, your majesty.” Anders’ grin widens as he bows before effortlessly scooping me into his arms in one fluid motion. His audacity renders me both impressed and flustered.
My father holds the door open, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, while I sit stiffly and awkwardly in Anders’ arms.
“Relax,” Anders whispers, his breath warm against my ear.
But I can’t let go of my tension; instead, I press my lips into a tight line. If I had been caught in that position with anyone else, I’m not sure they would have survived my father’s wrath.
Anders chuckles softly at my discomfort, and for a moment, the atmosphere softens with amusement. That moment dissipates faster than my next heartbeat when the door swings open. Kellan sits at my bedside, his face pale, his eyes wide, as his gaze shifts from Anders’ arms around me to where my palm is flat on Anders’ chest.
The silence that follows is far worse than any shout.
thirty-two
. . .
raea
It has beenthree days since we returned to school, and the bruises covering our bodies have turned dark shades of blue and purple. I didn’t realize how much we had been hurt in the crash.
For the past two nights, my sleep has been plagued by nightmares that replay fragments of Sgya. My memories blend our time there into blurry bits. It’s always flashes of glowing trees and the sound of the drums. Then, as if my mind can’t fully grasp all the trauma, I only remember segments of that clearing.
I can hear that soft, feminine voice saying, “This is your path…he’ll be here soon.” Although I never saw her, I can’t shake the feeling that it was Calia who touched me and alleviated some of my pain. I relive the power surging through me, burning me from the inside out all over again. In the depths of my nightmares, I hear those whispers weaving through the mist and the deep claws sinking into my flesh all over again.
It took an hour of negotiating, but my parents reluctantly agreed to let me remain in school, albeit with the stipulation that I would forgo any off-planet missions for the remainder of the year unless accompanied by Kuron. Speaking of Kuron, he had the hardest time leaving myside despite my dancing and spinning around the room to show off how alive I was.
That night, I returned to my room and discovered Kellan waiting for me in the living space. He told me his version of events, which lined up with Anders’, though Kellan had a lot more to say about Anders and me. Then we talked about the Bond and our magic late into the night.
A sense of resignation settled over him when I mentioned the prophecy Anders and I found. I’ve never seen Kellan like that, but he held me and didn’t let go, even when we had both fallen asleep on the sofa, until Aolyn woke us.
I haven’t talked to Anders since the day in the greenhouse. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me or if it was something else. I found myself dwelling too much on whether I said or did something wrong until he messaged me that we would talk soon and that he’s been pulled into palace meetings every morning—and that he misses me.
Every morning since, I have opened my door hoping to see my assigned escort, but it’s been Trysten every time, with a tea in hand ‘from Anders.’ I’ve attempted not to dwell on why my heart aches, though it’s impossible.
The bright side? It’s allowed his best friend to become an unexpected anchor in my life, grounding me each morning and reassuring me I’ll be okay.
He has insisted he’s alright and begged me to let it go, yet this does little to quell my endless apologies. Each apology feels inadequate, so I keep saying it…every morning.
Trysten meets me at my door again, ready to lead me to the Executive Hall for Bonding class. I offer him a bright smile and follow him out.
“How’s your day so far?”
“Fine.”
“Hey Trysten,” I halt, making him pause as we near the stairs. “I’m sor?—”
He groans, rolling his eyes with a smile and keeps walking, makingme giggle. I’d be lying if I said he hasn’t become a good friend to me. It won’t just be Anders I miss when the school year is over.
We meet Ciara and Tate by the door, interrupting their hushed conversation. As we step into the hall, a wave of gasps washes over the four of us. I cringe, suddenly remembering that the other dorms haven’t seen us in a while, primarily because we’ve been dodging the dining hall in favor of someone’s rooms to eat in. The last thing any of us has wanted is a room full of whispers and prying eyes.
“It’s getting old,” Ciara grumbles at my side as she finds an empty row near the top.
“Speak for yourself,” Tate chimes in with a cheeky grin. “The ladies love it.”
Ciara and I roll our eyes at him, but I can’t help but smile at his unwavering optimism. We make our way up, sliding into empty seats and inching toward the center. My eyes lock with Anders at the end of the row, talking with Trysten.
