“Lex, Ilyas, Fo!” a familiar male voice called, preceding the echoing, hurriedslaps of boots against the stone stairs. Folami’s grip tightened on mine once more, her whole posture radiating uncertainty.
Ellowyn and Peytor returned a few days earlier from Vespera, but the latter had kept his distance at least until this moment. Clearly, based on Folami’s reaction, he’d behaved similarly with my soon-to-be Bonded. I tilted her head with the fingers on my free hand, forcing her to look at me. I searched her eyes, finding pain and a healthy dose of wistfulness.
She misses him. A pang of sadness and longing swept through me as I drowned in the depths of her amber gaze.She needs him.
A small smile quirked my mouth before I brushed her lips tentatively with mine. It wasn’t the first time we’d embraced, but all our previous touches were done within the private sanctuary of my bedroom. The action shocked Folami enough that she was able to turn to Peytor with a look of bewilderment rather than apprehension.
Something told me that Peytor needed to see that, too.
“Fo, can we speak?” Peytor asked, breathless from his run down the stairs. Sweat stuck his curling hair to his brow, and his cheeks were pink with exertion. Despite the situation and tense history between us, I felt arousal pulse through my blood.
Folami glanced at me quickly, as if seeking my approval or judging my reaction. My smile only grew larger as I angled my head toward Peytor.
“Go, Fo. We’ll wait here.”
“It’ll only be a moment. I know . . . I know what today is for you all, and I only wanted to apologize to Folami before you Bond.” Peytor’s voice rang with sincerity, his stunning grey eyes solemn and pleading. Where I expected to see anger or frustration, there was only remorse and longing.
I released Folami’s hand before clapping Peytor lightly on the shoulder.
“Of course. She’s yours just as much as ours.” My words were honest, the deepest truth I could offer, yet Peytor’s reaction felt like I’d just offered him the world. His whole body relaxed, tension bleeding immediately, as he shot a tentative smile my way.
“Thank you,” he said, grasping the top of my hand with his briefly before reaching for Folami. I withdrew, sparks of heat igniting on my skin from his touch, as Folami practically launched herself into Peytor’s arms. The d’Aelius heir’s eyes closed, his nose dipping into the place between her neck and shoulder as they murmured soft, indistinguishable words to each other.
Ilyas and I stepped back to where Fay leaned against a wall.
“You’re okay with that?” she asked, nudging her chin toward the reunion between Peytor and Folami. The former had the latter’s face tucked solidly between his palms as he gazed at her with utter devotion.
My answer was immediate.
“Yes. I’m more than okay with it, actually. He is hers just as much as she is mine. How hypocritical would it be for me to require full devotion from her when I also have Ilyas?”
Faylinn was contemplatively silent, and Ilyas watched me with shrewd eyes.
“I would never give up one love for the other—they both mean as much to me as the other. Why would I ever ask that of her?”
Faylinn hummed softly as we watched Peytor and Folami embrace once more, relief and love etched into every line of their faces.
“You’re a better person than me,” she mumbled as Folami broke away. Her lover hung back as she approached us, but there was none of the jealousy I expected in his watchful gaze.
He nodded once at Ilyas and me, his eyes silently conveying for us to take care of her.
Until the time is right and you can join us,I thought as I acknowledged his request with a tilt of my head.
“Shall we?” Faylinn asked as Folami came to nestle into my side once more. I placed a small kiss on the top of her head, a motion that Ilyas quickly copied.
“Everything okay,ayaba?” he asked in that great rumbling tone that both served to soothe and light my nerves on fire.
Folami smiled, a large, radiant thing that I felt to the very depths of my soul.
“It will be,” she admitted quietly.
Fay smiledat a small girl and waved before opening a random door and ushering Ilyas, Folami, and I inside.
We followed like sheep herded by a shepherd until we reached the threshold of the bedroom. There was a large wooden table with Fay’s tools already set out, ready for our Bonding ceremony. The covers on the bed were tucked back, the deep-blue sheets open and inviting. Ilyas moved to an armchair in the corner of the room, relaxing back and crossing an ankle over his knee.
“I’ll be here for when you want or need me,” he stated.
“But—” Folami started to protest, whirling to face him, panic written in her gaze. Ilyas held up a palm to stay her words.
