She knows.
"One of these days," she says quietly, "you're going to realize you're worth more than this. And when you do, I'll be ready."
I don't answer. Just keep brushing Ash's coat until my arms ache and the sun climbs higher in the sky.
Until the tightness in my chest becomes unbearable.
Until all I can think about is storm-blue eyes and a voice that made me feel alive and the way freedom tasted when I was in his arms.
9
LORENTH
The temple district sits at the heart of New Solas, all white marble and soaring columns that catch the afternoon light. I've always hated coming here—too many people, too much incense smoke, too many gods staring down from their alcoves like they're waiting for me to fuck up.
But Lora's right.
If anyone can help me find Senna, it's Serai.
I push through the carved wooden doors of the main temple, and the cool air inside hits my face like a reprieve. The interior stretches high above me, vaulted ceilings painted with scenes of the gods' descent, and the whole place smells like myrrh and candle wax. A few worshippers kneel at the various shrines lining the walls, their whispers echoing in the vast space.
I ignore them and head straight for the eastern wing where the Nashai keep their private chambers.
"Lorenth Varyon."
The voice comes from my left, melodic and amused, and I turn to find Serai standing in one of the arched doorways. She's dressed in white robes that flow around her like water, her pale gold skin practically glowing in the filtered sunlight. Her braidsare woven with prayer beads today—tiny crystal orbs that click softly when she moves—and those strange white eyes of hers fix on me with an intensity that makes my wings twitch.
She's always unnerved me, if I'm being honest. Too knowing. Too perceptive. Like she can see straight through skin and bone into whatever wreckage lives underneath.
But she's also blessed Lora's marriage to Varos nine years ago. Blessed both Kova and Kaelan when they were born. She's been part of our family long enough that I trust her—even if I don't particularly enjoy being under her scrutiny.
"Serai." I incline my head in greeting.
She smiles, crossing the space between us with that ethereal grace all Nashai seem to possess. Her wings—massive and white as fresh snow—fold neatly against her back, and she tilts her head as she studies me.
"It's been too long," she says. "How have your weeks been since the Masquerade?"
Straight to the point, then.
I should've expected that.
"Fine," I lie, and her smile widens.
"Liar."
"I need your help."
"Obviously." She gestures toward a side chamber, and I follow her into a smaller room lined with shelves of scrolls and books. A low table sits in the center, surrounded by cushions, and she settles onto one with fluid ease. "Sit."
I don't. Can't. My wings are too restless, my chest too tight, and standing feels like the only thing keeping me from crawling out of my own skin.
Serai watches me for a long moment, her expression shifting from amusement to something sharper. Then she frowns.
"Why isn't your bond complete?"
The question hits like a fist to the gut.
I freeze, staring at her. "What?"
