“Yes, but it wasn’t an internal feeling. It was as if Lumnara herself was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.”
“Like a plate shift?” he asked.
I nodded. Growing up in the Nettorian Mountains, I was no stranger to quakes. “Yes, albeit magnitudes stronger than I’ve ever experienced before.”
His brows furrowed, scrutiny sharpening.
“What is it?” I asked.
A flicker of something unreadable passed over his features before he said, “Is it better now?”
Not missing him deftly avoid the question, I narrowed my eyes.
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He stood and held his hand out. “Best we get to dinner before Artton comes to collect us.”
Despite myself, a ghost of a smile played on my lips picturing the fae stumbling in on us—me on the ground, Endymion towering over me, arm outstretched. I could only imagine what ridiculous comment he’d undoubtedly throw Endymion’s way.
Even though dinner was an intimate affair, I’d excused myself as soon as I could without causing a fuss. It was all too much—the low thrum of conversation, the scented spices mingling with wine, a thousand notes of Summer’s presence singing in dissonance. It was overwhelming, and I needed air, space, solitude—or possibly something I couldn’t name.
Endymion had stood offering to walk me back to my residence, but I was craving solitude, so I politely declined. I also wanted to testmy boundaries. The Summer Court was a promised safe haven, but at what cost? There was always someone by my side, other than when I slept, and even then, it was possible someone was stationed at the doors.
Finally finding my way to the gardens, I walked down a half-moon, milky-white staircase that seemed to glitter from the last vestiges of dusk’s light. I wondered then if the exterior staircases had always held that detail, one lost on human sight.
In the distance to my right, a high whinny split the night, and my heart fluttered a fraction before I bolted toward the stables.
The instant I saw Luca in a stall, a soft sob escaped me as an overwhelming relief washed over me.
“Luca,” I breathed. Releasing the latch, I stepped in, rose to my tiptoes, and wrapped my arms as far as they could reach around his sturdy neck.
He nuzzled in for a long moment before lifting his head and snorting. Wiping tears from my eyes, I stepped in front of him and rubbed his muzzle.
“Hey you,” I said, my words broken.
He closed his eyes and pressed harder against my hand.
“I’m here.” I soothed.
His nostrils flared, and he breathed the scent of me in deeply as if sensing something was different. I blew lightly in his direction, and he breathed it in before letting out a few short puffs, then settled again as if to say, “Yes, it’s still you.”
“Shall we go for a ride?” I said, and he gave me alike you have to askchuff in a mixture of indignant approval only Luca could achieve.
Chuckling, I poked my head out of the stall looking for his tack and found it neatly hung to the side—along with my rucksack. Three strides later, I clumsily unfastened it and peeked in to find it untouched. I wrapped my arms around the rough canvas and bowed my head, allowing a moment to feel its realness against my chest.
In a life where I’d had little, I’d somehow managed to lose it all.Even Eithan’s dagger was gone, lost in my futile defense against the na’li. So, I clutched onto what remained.
Luca’s clopping hooves echoed as he came to check in on me. Realizing I was fine, he nudged me hard enough that I had to step forward to catch my balance.
Chuckling, I slipped the rucksack on as I faced him, then tapped him on the nose. “That’s enough out of you.”
He snorted and looked toward his tack—and the container of treats next to it.
“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
He huffed and gave me his most innocent look.
“Yes, you,” I said, stepping past him. I grabbed a handful of treats, shoving most of them in my pocket, then held one up as ransom. “And don’t even pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
His ears shifted back as he stubbornly stared me down. Putting one hand on my hip, I drew the treat back a fraction, letting him know that he wasn’t the only stubborn one in this barn, and I currently held the power.
