I met her eyes and let my dragon stare her down. "I’ll handle it. My way."
She held my gaze a moment longer, then shrugged, almost disappointed. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
She slipped back into the house, leaving me alone on the terrace.
I stood there a long time, the cold air burning my lungs, the words replaying over and over in my head. A block. A spell. A deliberate act to keep Krystal safe, or alone.
I thought of her inside, the way she watched the exits, the careful distance she kept from everyone, even me.
I knew what I had to do.
I went back inside, the din of the party crashing over me in a wave. Krystal stood by the window, alone, staring into the night. I made my way to her, and when she turned, I saw it, the longing, the confusion, the need.
She glanced up and smiled. "I’m glad I came. It’s been a nice evening."
"Good. I liked having you here." I threaded a hand through my hair. "Can we talk for a minute alone?"
When she nodded, I led her through the main hall, past the library, and into one of the lesser-used sitting rooms with books lining the walls and two ancient leather couches arranged in front of a stone hearth.
I left space between us, maybe two feet, though it felt like a chasm. The old leather groaned under my weight.
Krystal perched on the edge of the opposite couch, hands clasped so tight the knuckles whitened. She scanned the room, then settled on me with a force that pinned me in place. "You said you had something to tell me," she prompted, her tone flat but not rude.
I took a breath, trying to order the thoughts into something she’d understand. "There are two things, actually. I’m not sure how to start."
She let out a short laugh. "Try the beginning."
I nodded, unable to look away from her. "You know how wolves have fated mates? Dragons do too."
Krystal’s face didn’t move, but her eyes narrowed a fraction. "You’re saying I’m yours?"
I nodded again, the truth of it ringing through my bones. "I felt it the moment I saw you after waking up. I thought you might feel it too, but from what I can tell… nothing. At first, I figured maybe you were somehow immune. But that’s not it. There’s something blocking you. A spell."
She blinked, once, slowly. "You’re blaming this on magic?"
"Not blaming, exactly," I said, fighting the urge to reach out. "Just explaining. I talked to Vivienne. She’s an expert in this stuff. She thinks your mother put a block on you. Probably to keep you safe, or maybe to keep you from getting hurt."
Krystal stared at her hands, the set of her shoulders growing even more rigid. "I don’t understand. Why would my mother put a spell over me?"
"I don’t know."
After a few beats of silence, I said, "There’s more. The second thing I wanted to tell you. We’ve met before."
Chapter 10
Krystal
"We’ve met before.In Knoxville. Ten years ago." I stared at Zaden, and the world went very small.
I reached for anything, logic, denial, air, but my hands found only empty space and the scuffed edge of the study’s old sofa. The room was all carved wood and burnished light, grand enough to stage a funeral, and for a second I thought maybe I was dead, or dreaming, or halfway to both.
He’d said it so simply, as if it were just a fact to drop into the middle of the world. Then he added, "When we reconnected after I woke, I just thought you didn’t want to talk about Nashville, but I soon realized that you don’t remember, but I do. Do you remember it at all?"
I didn’t remember awholelot about that night, and definitely not the face of my one-night stand ten years ago who'd called himself Bob. But now, looking at Zaden, it came flooding back. As I studied him closer, I saw it. How Bryce had some of Zaden’s features.
Bryce. Holy fucking shit, how did I not see this?
I couldn't stand. My lungs misfired. I coughed once, twice, then steadied out. The whole time, Zaden watched me. He didn’t move as if any shift might collapse the rest of my scaffolding.
