“Sylaira,” I growled, too exhausted to temper the rage that came with speaking her name.
Maelsar took a half-step forward, brows dipping together at the sight of her unconscious, broken form.
A scream tore my attention back to the defiant female. Her sky-blue eyes stormed. “Look what you have done to her!” She gestured toward the Seer, bronze shackles rattling against the metal of her confinement.
The others scrambled to their feet, lightning cracking the sky just in time to highlight my sins. Maelsar gripped my arm and dragged me away from our crew and the group he’d managed to capture in my absence. Their jeers and taunts assaulted our back as we found shelter under a tavern’s overhang.
“Vaeron,” Maelsar said my name again, his voice low and wrapped in warning. “What did you do?”
A muscle jumped in my jaw as I shifted the little fugitive in my arms. “It’s not important. She’s here, that’s what matters.”
“Tell me. You know I won’t tell anyone if you lost control. Especially not Iaoth. She’s punished you enough, even if you committed a crime?—”
I whipped my head to the side and glared at him. “Do you think I forced myself on her?” I hissed through clenched teeth. “You think I would–”
The rest caught in my throat, and I cursed my exhaustion for fracturing my mind.
Maelsar raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t know what the fuck to think. Just tell me what happened.”
Thunder rumbled overhead, mirroring my ominous mood. I opened my mouth to say the words, to admit aloud what had occurred. Because Maelsar didn’t know. How could he, when even I hadn’t?
No, Sylaira had kept that information all to herself.
My lips thinned at the reminder. I tried to force them apart again. Once. Twice. A third time. I blew out a breath, and with it, my confession.
“She’s my fated mate.”
Maelsar’s jaw dropped. His mist-gray eyebrows shot up his forehead. “This isn’t fucking funny, Vaeron.”
“I’m not joking.” I returned my attention to the Seer, still passed out in my arms, for the briefest of moments. “I wish I was.” The words came out quiet, barely audible over the tempest. “Because there’s no way she’ll ever love me now.”
Resentment, hot and sludgy, boiled in my veins. Days of flying, alone with my thoughts, had only made me angrier about the whole situation.
Maelsar’s throat bobbed. He flicked his attention toward the caged Angels before meeting my gaze again. “We canprotect her from Iaoth. From what she’s making you do. We’ll find a way forward, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Shame curled inside me. In all the madness, I hadn’t even fully considered what would happen when we returned to Sivy. “We’ll solve that problem another time. As for now, I need to get her inside, dry, and healed.”
“She’s injured?” my second-in-command clarified.
“Aye, something with her knee. It happened when our bond snapped into place,” I sighed, weariness tugging on every fiber of my being. And my emotions too. The past few days—fuck, the past few weeks—had frayed my nerves. Ever since I spotted Sylaira everything had been unraveling.
I wasn’t ready to admit that they’d never be as they were before either.
“Had to see the healers myself,” he grumbled, tugging at the collar of his jacket and revealing angry red welts. “Apparently not all Elessarum are above defending themselves with their nails if necessary. Caught whispers of this group and Iaoth wanted me to grab them while Calrien took the others to Sivy.”
I grunted, recalling how Sylaira had bit me, and followed his attention back to theotherdefiant female. “She seems feisty.”
“That’s one way to describe her,” he sighed, and there was something I couldn’t quite name woven into his words. “The Korona is expecting me back in the capital, like yesterday. Should I tell her you’ll be a few days behind me?”
I exhaled, long and low, through my nose. I needed more than a few days to replenish this massive outpouring of magic. And Sylaira likely needed more than that to heal enough to travel again.
“Tell her I’m two weeks behind. That way she can be pleasantly surprised if I arrive early.”
Maelsar snorted and shook his head. “You are cutting it awfully close to–”
My heated glare cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “We are not talking about that. And you arenotto tell my sister anything other than I have the Seer in my possession.”
A low, rueful laugh escaped him. “Do you think I have a death wish? Oh, no, Vaeron, you have to tell Iaoth about your new–” he looked around us to ensure his next word wouldn’t be overhead “–bond. But I’ll make some excuses so I can stay behind until you arrive if she tries to send me out again.”
