Because fine. Yes. The thought of Varyth’s hands on someone else. His mouth, his attention, that devastating focus he turned on me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, going to someone else?
It made me want to set things on fire.
Which was absolutely ridiculous. Absurd. Completely unhinged behaviour from someone who had zero claim on himand had spent the better part of our acquaintance oscillating between wanting to murder him and wanting to?—
Nope. Not finishing that thought.
“Oh my gods.” Brynelle’s face split into a grin so wide it should’ve been illegal. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not.”
“You are.” She sat up straighter in Shaelith’s lap, delighted. “You’re jealous of hypothetical past lovers you didn’t even know existed until thirty seconds ago.”
“I’m not jealous,” I said, which would’ve been more convincing if my voice hadn’t gone up half an octave. “I’m just—it’s just?—”
“Wildfire.”Kaelen’s voice was absolutely drenched in amusement. “You’re jealous.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“I’m simply observing.”His satisfaction was palpable through the bond. “You spent months insisting you wanted nothing to do with him, and now your heart rate is doing something fascinating because other people may have touched him centuries before you existed.”
“I hate all of you.”
Shaelith’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think there’s been anyone in quite some time. Not since—” She paused, exchanging a glance with Brynelle. “Well. Not for a long while.”
Which somehow made it worse. Made the jealousy twist deeper, because if there hadn’t been anyone, then what did that mean about the way he touched me? About waking up in his arms, about his hands mapping my body like he was trying to memorise every curve and hollow?
I buried my face in my hands again. “I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re falling for him,”Kaelen corrected, far too smug for my liking.“There’s a difference.”
“I’m not—I can’t—” The words tangled in my throat. Because falling implied something gentle, something gradual. And there was nothing gentle about this. It felt like being dragged underwater, like drowning in waters I couldn’t name while simultaneously never wanting to surface.
“It’s alright to want him, Isara.” Shaelith’s smile was soft. Understanding. “Even if it’s terrifying.”
“Terrifying doesn’t even begin to cover it.” I dragged my hands down my face, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Can we please talk about anything else? Like the diplomatic nightmare I’ve volunteered myself for?”
Brynelle’s grin turned knowing, but she let me have the redirect. “Right. The meeting with Nyxaria’s High Lord.” She leaned back against Shaelith, her expression sobering. “You said Varyth wants you there?”
“Apparently.” I picked at a loose thread on my sleeve. “He thinks my presence will throw them off. That they won’t be expecting it.”
“He’s right.” Shaelith’s tone had gone thoughtful, strategic. “Ashterion will absolutely expect Varyth to hide you. To keep you locked away and protected like you’re something fragile that needs guarding.”
“Showing up with you at his side, showing that you’re strong, that you’re part of his court—” Brynelle’s eyes gleamed with approval. “It’s a power move. It says we’re not afraid. It says you’re not a weakness to be exploited.”
“Even though I kind of am?” The words came out more bitter than I’d intended. “I don’t know anything about court politics. I barely understand half of what’s happening. And apparently I have a gift that no one wants to talk about.”
“Which makes you unpredictable,” Shaelith countered. “And unpredictability is its own kind of weapon. Ashterion thriveson control, on knowing exactly what cards everyone’s holding. You’re a variable he can’t account for.”
“Lucky me.”
“It is, actually.” Brynelle sat forward, her expression fierce. “Because it means he’ll be too busy trying to figure you out to focus entirely on whatever game he’s actually playing. You’re a distraction. A very effective one.”
I thought about that. About walking into a room with a High Lord known for cruelty and darkness, about being used as a tactical piece in a game I didn’t fully understand.
About Varyth saying I was clever. About Fenric agreeing to train me. About being part of something larger than my own survival for the first time since I’d stumbled into this realm covered in blood and ash.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I admitted quietly.
