The woman's bright blue eyes narrowed as she dipped her head slightly. “Serenya of House Kareth. I’ve been appointed your caretaker during your stay here in Calanthe.”
The name hit like a slap.
Calanthe.
“Stay?” Maris echoed, voice gone sharp. “I didn’t agree to stay anywhere.”
Before Serenya could reply, the massive carved doors to the chamber groaned open.
In stepped a figure, amusement shown in his face. A slight smirk painted across his perfect lips, sea-wind catching on his silver-blond hair, violet-blue eyes locked only on her.
With the sight of him her dreams stepped into the waking world.
The Nightbound male gave her a patient smile, “ I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I am King Alarik, of Calanthe. Welcome to my palace and capital city of Nerium.”
He gave her a slight bow and his eyes flicked up to meet hers.
She suddenly became well aware of her lack of proper clothing, pulling the sheets closer to her frame, clutching it with a firm grasp.
Tall and regal in the gleam of sea-glass light, the King of Calanthe wore a white tunic barely laced, as if he dressed quickly, tucked into deep blue leather trousers. His hair was tousled, and his violet-blue eyes, gods, they were the same from her dreams.
Only colder. Only real.
“You,” Maris whispered.
Alarik paused at the foot of the bed, his gaze steady. “I see recognition has come quickly.”
“You’ve been in my head,” she hissed. “The dreams, I knew they weren’t fully mine.”
Maris swung her legs over the side of the bed, rising despite the dizzying weakness that still curled in her spine. Her skin was faintly glowing again, no longer dull but something kissed by divinity, altered by power.
“You watched me,” she said, stepping toward him. “Why?”
Alarik’s jaw flexed. “Because I had to be sure.”
“Sure of what?” Her voice cracked like breaking ice. “That I wasn’t insane? That the man haunting my dreams was real?”
“That you were the Veil Breaker.”
Silence stretched like a blade between them.
Maris staggered back a step, breathing like she’d been struck.
“You pulled me away from his side like a villain in the night, you arrogant bastard!” She threw a book from the nightstand at him.
The female Serenya rose quickly, looking to Alarik —an offer of assistance.
“You were about to bind yourself to him,” Alarik snapped, suddenly less composed. “I didn’t have time. The bond once completed on your wedding night would make it impossible to get to you. I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” she growled. “Kael will burn kingdoms for me.”
Alarik’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, the air between them pulsed with something ancient and seething.
“Exactly,” he said slowly. “He’s already began. And you think that’s love? That’s obsession. You are more than his hunger.”
Maris’s heart slammed against her ribs. She launched another book aimed at his head this time.
Alarik narrowly dodged the assault, but took one step closer anyway. “You have questions. I have answers. Stay. Just long enough to hear them.”
