Alora sighed, then huffed a reluctant laugh. “Odd, isn’t it? Not long ago I was desperate to escape him, and now that he’s pushed me away…”
“You want nothing more than to be near him,” Theia finished softly, her gaze drifting toward the kitchen where Zuma clattered softly with mugs and kettles.
Alora narrowed her eyes, then grinned. “You haven’t asked about Caelum once since you arrived. Nor has he come to see you. Is the engagement still in place?”
Theia pulled a face, a strange blend of embarrassment and relief. “The engagement was never truly ours. Our fathers arranged it long ago, but when they both passed during the siege, Caelum and I agreed it was best to end it. Neither of us wanted it to begin with.” She folded her hands in her lap, then added with a small frown, “Though I did wonder why Caelum didn’t come my rescue himself…”
Alora smirked and glanced toward the kitchen. “Are you really complaining?”
Theia bit her lip, failing to hold back a smile. “Not in the slightest.”
Alora leaned in close, lowering her voice in mock conspiracy. “Am I to understand that my best friend is in love with a Minotaur?”
Theia turned crimson but didn’t deny it. “Is that so awful?” She peeked toward the kitchen. “Most would call him a beast. But he’s gentle. Protective. Kind. And, well. there’s a certain... vigor to him. And those horns...”
Alora clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a squeal. Her mind drifted, unbidden, to Rune. His horns. His strength. The way his presence once overwhelmed her, and how now, in his absence, she missed him like air.
She felt lost and unmoored without him.
“How does Lord Zuma feel?” Alora asked quietly.
“I think he knows our places,” Theia sighed. “Society would balk at the thought. I’m a noble daughter. And he’s…” She smiled wistfully. “But none of that truly matters. I simply need to find the courage to go after what I want.”
Alora stared at her, thoughtful. “You’re braver than you know, Theia.”
“And so are you.” She looked at her meaningfully.
Alora glanced away, the shadows on her skin pulsing faintly. If she could claim her magic, even when it frightened her, then that shouldn’t stop her from claiming her mate, too.
But… what if he didn’t want the same?
Lord Zuma returned, setting two mugs on the side table, Alora rose. Her expression shifted, resolute and calm. “Perhaps it’s best that Theia returns to Argyle.”
Theia sat up, clutching her bleeding shirt. “But Alora?—”
She shook her head. “I cannot risk hurting you again. To fully submerge myself in this power, I need to not be distracted or put you at risk. Besides, I need someone to be my eyes in Argyle. Rihan will need more friends to watch over him.”
Sighing, Theia nodded.
Zuma’s shoulders slumped with visible relief. He didn’t want another repeat of today either. “I will escort her myself.”
Alora smiled. “And stay with her.”
He blinked, surprised.
“Keep her close, Lord Zuma,” she said warmly. “Do not allow any harm to befall my dearest friend.”
Zuma dropped to one knee and clanked a fist to his chest. “On my life, my lady.”
Alora went to sleep that night restless and sore.
Her dreams were fragmented nightmares of voices in mirrors and running in fear through the dark woods. The red sky loomed above her, rumbling with thunder. But then she ran through a pair of trees and entered a glade where a spindle waited.
The sharp crimson spindle glinted in the moonlight.
It shone like a beacon, calling to her.
She reached out, her fingertip hovering above the sharp point.
