All that mattered was that Maris stayed by his side — her finger baring his ring and her lips tasting faintly of him.
He tugged her close during a lull in the well-wishing, his voice brushing her ear like silk-wrapped steel.
“You haven’t run,” he murmured. “That’s —unexpected.”
Her breath hitched. “Yet.”
He chuckled, low and dark and kissed the shell of her ear. “Try. I dare you.”
She smiled. Small. Real. His chest thudded at the sight.
He turned toward the dais, guiding her gently with him. The court still buzzed —drunk on celebration —but Kael barely heard them. For once, he wasn’t performing for them. Wasn’t smiling to manipulate or growl to threaten.
This night was his.
Not forced by duty. Not wrapped in blood-soaked tradition.
But chosen and maybe that made all the difference.
Laughter echoed against the vaulted stone. Gilded goblets clinked. Court musicians played with an almost unholy frenzy, coaxed by magic and the wine-drunken delight of the nobility. And still, Kael could not stop watching her.
Maris.
His betrothed.
She leaned into his side slightly now, maybe because of the wine, maybe because of the warmth that had begun pooling between them like a current. He’d felt it shift the moment she accepted.
A tether. The beginning of it.
It coiled like a slow-burning thread of silver between their chests. Not fully formed but it would solidify before dawn. The old magic was ancient law in Nythra. One he hadn’t dared invoke with another and now here it was. A bond awakened.
He tilted his head toward her, his voice low, reserved just for her ear despite the revelry roaring around them.
“There’s something you should know,” he said, brushing a hand down her spine. She leaned into it.
“Tonight,” he continued, “a temporary bond will settle between us. It's a tradition.”
Her gaze flicked to his, sharp but unreadable. “What kind of bond?”
Kael studied her expression carefully, his tone still velvet but edged.
“It’s protective. Ancient. It allows betrothed pairs to sense each other’s emotional states: pain, fear, sometimes pleasure. Strong enough magic passes through it. You may hear me in your mind if I don’t wall you out. You may speak to me the same, if you choose.”
Her brows rose, a hundred thoughts sparking in those starlit eyes of hers.
“Arranged marriages often require it,” Kael added, gaze tightening. “To keep strangers from killing each other in their sleep.”
She blinked. “And us?”
He met her stare directly. “Ours is not arranged.”
Maris flushed beautifully under the candlelight, the words hitting harder than he’d intended.
“I’ll feel your emotions?”
He nodded. “Not sharply, not unless the feelings are, potent.”
Maris bit her lower lip, which was swiftly becoming one of his favorite sights.
