She had been forced into a marriage, while Razik had possessed the strength to resist a bond being forced on him.
Now she needed to get him to talk about it with her.
But then another thought struck her.
“Why would that responsibility be placed on Razik and not Tybalt? Wouldn’t his father be better suited?”
Cethin shook his head. “Tybalt is his uncle, and that is a story for him to tell. As for why Tybalt didn’t take on the role, it is because one can only be bonded to one person in such a way.”
“And he already is?”
Cethin nodded. “To my mother.”
“That is why you know so much about the bond. Because Tybalt was bonded to your mother,” she said, sorting through all the information. “Do you blame Razik for not wanting the same?”
He sighed, pulling the band from his hair, the strands falling around his face, and there was something intimate in it. Not like the kissing, but intimate in a different way. He looked disheveledand casual, and he had never once allowed himself to appear this way outside these rooms.
“In a way, yes, but not in the way he thinks,” Cethin answered. “I think we?—”
A knock on the door interrupted them, followed by a gruff, “Cethin?”
“Speaking of Tybalt,” Cethin muttered, getting to his feet and going to answer the door.
The Commander slipped inside, immediately scanning the room and his features tightening when they skimmed over her. “There has been activity in the area we’ve been monitoring. We can’t wait any longer to make a statement.”
“You’re sure?” Cethin asked, his entire demeanor changing.
Gone was the tired and contemplative male from a minute ago, replaced by a king who looked ready to go to war.
“I wouldn’t have come here if I weren’t,” Tybalt replied.
“Yeah. All right,” Cethin said, his magic converging around him as he spoke. It thickened, becoming so dense it obscured him, until it didn’t. Until it receded, leaving Cethin in thick leathers while his dark power clung to him like a second skin. He looked…
Well, he looked like the king that was only whispered about across the sea in the same way the death god, his wife, and their children were only whispered of in most of the realm.
“Razik is on his way to stay with the queen,” Tybalt was saying.
But she was on her feet at that. “I want to go. I can help.”
“I think that would be unwise,” Tybalt replied, scarcely glancing at her before giving Cethin a pointed look.
“If she wants to go, then she comes with us,” Cethin said simply.
She was unprepared for what those words did to her. No hesitation. No debating or arguing or second-guessing. A simple acceptance of her and her capabilities.
“Cethin—” Tybalt started.
“Are you ready, Kailia?” Cethin asked, turning to her and ignoring the Commander’s protest.
“Yes,” she answered, summoning her bow as she approached the king.
He glanced down, noting her bare feet, but he said nothing. He only extended his hand, and when she placed her fingers in his waiting palm, he tugged her a little closer. Smirking at her gasp.
But that second of playfulness was gone a moment later when they stepped onto too-soft grass. She immediately recognized the Shira Forest behind her. If she was correct, they were on the opposite side of the forest from where the hunt had taken place. South, based on the warmer temperatures for the middle of the night and the stretch of river running off to the right.
Razik appeared, stepping from the air seconds behind them, and Wren was with him. She looked nervous, but relief flashed in her eyes when she saw the river. It made sense considering her affinity for water. Kailia could only assume she was here because Razik anticipated needing to draw power from her.
“Where is the threat?” she asked Cethin.
