As Matthias neared Adalia’s home, he hoped she would be sleeping. Because what he had to tell her come morning needed an entire night of rehearsing.
Chapter Seventeen
The pushback
Adalia had woken early for work, pleased to find Matthias still lost in what she hoped was a happy dreamland. He’d come in late last night, probably hoping she would be asleep.
She hadn’t been.
How could she be? Their moment of passion changed something in her heart. She wanted to hate him for tearing himself from her, but she was finding it hard to. Maybe he just needed some space? Maybe he wasn’t ready?
Either way, Matthias had made it clear that he didn’t want her. So, she would distance herself. There was no way she was going to put her heart on the line for him . . . not if he didn’t want it.
How to move forward from that while he was currently living in her home, though, was another issue.
After placing a cup of coffee for him beside the lounge, Adalia returned to the kitchen, preparing a light breakfast. Her eyes flicked to the sleeping prince every so often. Once finished, she tidied the kitchen and sat at the table. Adalia quietly stabbed into her fried egg, the golden yolk bursting under her knife blade andtrickling down the side of her toast. She ate in silence, her heart wounded and heavy.
Matthias stirred and rolled over, making eye contact through a sleepy gaze. Adalia looked away after a moment and stood to her feet, clearing her plate and washing it in the sink.
The prince sat up and stretched his arms and wings, casting a large shadow across the lounge room floor. “Ada . . .” he called softly.
“There is some breakfast here, and I made you coffee. I’ll be out all day and I have plans here at home tonight. See you later,” she murmured as she grabbed her bag and walked out the front door, not giving him the opportunity to respond. She didn’t want to hear the excuses right now. He didn’t get to decide when they would talk about it, either.
Patrolling The Grey felt different today. Adalia couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Everything looked normal, but she’d seen more tavern fights and more thieves trying to steal merchants’ goods than usual. Some Shadowkin even seemed more agitated, like they knew something she didn’t.
It was late afternoon as she headed back to the compound.
Shiloh was coming for dinner. Adalia needed some female company and hoped it would help with current tension at home.
Adalia stepped through the gate at the shimmering, milky Veil and handed the reins of her horse to the stable hand. “Thanks, Blue. You should be proud of yourself for always taking such good care of these four-legged creatures.”
Blue grinned widely, his warm brown eyes glinting in the sun.
Adalia took to the skies.
The compound was a flurry of Lightners as she landed, training in the rings, blade against blade. Some were in the archery complex practising their aim and others were practising hand combat. Shewas proud of her people, always striving to be at their best to keep the innocent protected.
Nikolas landed in the distance, and Adalia moved towards him. He did not know about the dynamics at home, and she wondered whether she should tell him. Considering how last time went . . . maybe she should.
“Will you be home for dinner tonight?” she asked Nikolas as he reached her side.
Her brother pulled his wings in close and ran a hand through his tousled chestnut hair. “I think so, but don’t wait for me. I might get a drink with the boys a bit later. I’ll let you know,” he said.
“Have you been training? You seem out of breath?” Adalia rose her brow.
Nikolas nodded, hand on hips. “Yeah, just did a session with Lan. That guy knows how to fight. He had me for a moment there, but I wore him down in the end.” He grinned.
Adalia smiled at her brother. He was such a kind soul. Lightners far and wide respected him. She felt honoured to be his sister. “Well, if you will be around, let me know. I’ll start cooking at about six.”
“Sure thing. Is everything okay?” He cocked his head.
Adalia nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll see you later,” she said as she waved to him.
Her office was a mess. She hadn’t been in here for a couple of days and there were piles of paper scattered all over her desk. A white mug sat close to the edge, needing to be washed. It wasn’t like her to leave a mess lying about. It was proof she needed to stop, slow down, and pay attention to even the small things.
It wasn’t long until she had the space organised, and all her papers were in neat piles.
Home time—where the inevitable awaited.
