“No,” I said, and I left it at that. The natural assumption would be that Carmine must die. But then there would be another king. Another king would kill Owu anyway.
Except Adeuto would not. I could not tell how or why—if being part magus was the key. Or whether Adeuto would just choose not to.
Either way, I had felt that their friendship lasted all of their days.
The yellow grunted in surprise, and though I couldn’t tell him my plans, I did hope he was able to imagine that the king who’d killed his mate might one day be dead by my hand.
“Say your goodbyes now,” I said to the family. “We must go.”
Athira would have a huge job getting these boys to sleep tonight. I enjoyed imagining that as the small family cried together and held each other close.
His mother pushed a necklace into Owu’s hands. “I will see you again, my son,” she said fiercely.
“Will you be okay?” he asked her.
“I will watch over your mother when I can, Owu,” I said softly. “You will hear far more of your mother than she will hear of you.”
She kissed his cheeks. “I will be just fine. There is nothing I can’t do for you.”
And that was the truth.
Owu straightened his shoulders and joined me. “I’m ready, Mate-Intended.”
He’d been coached in royal etiquette.
“Call me Syera.”
I took his hand, and once he’d waved to his parents—to his father for the last time—I opened a portal.
The red was smiling and managing to cover his devastation far better than his mate, who was struggling to remain upright. I waited until they both managed to force a smile, and then whisked Owu through.
That would be his last image of his mother and father together. How I wished that this could end another way for him.
Owu moved from my side to spin in a circle. “This is the hideout?”
“Mother’s back!” Thudding footsteps sounded before Adeuto appeared in the small doorway.
He stared at Owu.
Owu stared at him.
Adeuto dragged his gaze from the boy to me. “Mother, who is this?”
I joined him. “Adeuto, this is Owu. Owu will stay with you and your grandmother from now on.” I beckoned to the demon behind me. “Owu, this is my son, Adeuto.”
“Another boy,” murmured the demon, padding closer. “You didn’t say.”
“I couldn’t say,” I replied.
Adeuto piped up. “Mother’s still handling my father.”
My son had never seen another child. Perhaps Owu watched them out of his window from time to time.
“You have scales already,” Adeuto told the boy.
The boy scowled. “I was sick. Your mama healed me.”
“Mother,” my son corrected him.
