Mate? Kishek.
I chastise myself for not expecting it. Though I hardly understand what a mate means to the feyn.
“Tell her,” she demands, “Tell her or send her away.”
“I agree with Awri, Xey,” Riesh interjects, “She’s strong, stronger than you give her credit for. She can take it, and you can’t protect her from this forever.”
“She’s not ready,” the general says.
“Ready or not, she is weak in her ignorance,” Awri spits, “and if you choose to keep her here that affects us all.”
“I’ve received a letter from Nurai. She will be attending the masque. We will wait until she arrives and see if your gifts combined will be strong enough.” There is a clear ring of finality in the general’s voice when he says it.
“Nurai should be strong enough on her own,” Riesh says hesitantly.
“I’m not so sure anymore,” the general answers.
“You still can’t access her?” Awri asks, some of the heat waning from her voice.
“A little more every day, but it has nothing to do with the strength of my gift. It’s her, she’s changing, trusting…”
A door swings open at the end of the hall and shadows move in the night as a fresh rotation of guards filters into the corridors. I curse under my breath, retreating to the bed before I’m seen, settling in below the duvet just as the door’s hinges creak and the latch clicks shut.
I don’t have to look to know it’s the general. I’ve memorized the sound of his stride, his scent, the way that he moves. I can practically see the scowl plastered on his face with my eyes closed.
The bed dips next to me and the male collects me in his arms, pulling my back against his chest. Taking in a deep lungful of my scent, he nuzzles my hair. I roll over to face him, his form nothing more than a simple silhouette in the dark, and I capture his mouth with my own in tender greeting.
Placing a hand over his heart, he sucks in a gasp when I release his power into him. There is nothing of the whirling storm it summoned before. This transfer is quiet, subtle, the gift gladly departing to its true home.
“Fates,” he gasps, wrapping his arms around my neck and tucking me against his chest. “How?” he mumbles into my hair.
“I made a bargain,” I say, and his arms tense around me.
I expect a scolding, about venturing into the forest, about confronting the naiad who tried to kill me, about the sure idiocy of striking a bargain with a fea, but he only asks, “What did you give up?”
And now I understand the depth of what he said to me when I asked that very question when he first held me in the cabin. So, I answer in kind,meaning every word, still not entirely sure what it is I’ve bargained.
“Nothing I wouldn’t give up a hundred times over.”
He pulls my body against his until there isn’t room for air between us and rests his cheek against my head as he falls asleep.
Dawn breaks the horizon and deep voices murmur in the war room. I splay my hand across the empty sheets beside me longingly. Just once, before I’m forced to leave this place, I’d like to wake with the male by my side. I’m not sure why. Just like the rest of it, it won’t change a thing.
I prepare for training and can’t help but worry about my friend. The painful sight of her crouched beside Kishek, her mate, plagues me. It was my fault, somehow. She blamed me for what happened to him and told the general to send me away.
I’m troubled by the relief I feel at the idea of the male boarding me onto a ship and sending me south before I have a chance to end his king. I would never see him again, but at least then, he would never grow to hate me.
He told her he would wait until after the masque, but by then it will be too late. The king is meant to return to attend his party, and if Awri is pushing the general to send me away for some reason, I can’t afford to hesitate in my task.
There is no way I will come to be anything but a bitter regret in the general’s past by the time this is over. The male might even follow me to La’tari, searching for a vengeance he should rightly obtain. I smile dryly at that. I won’t blame him if he does.
‘Tell her.’ The simple demand Awri leveled at the general is more than intriguing, it’s maddening. I’d never known the female to withhold information from me, though a part of me knows there is only so much she is willing to share. How much of that information I can trust is another matter entirely.
I debate asking the general what she meant by it, what he’s supposedly protecting me from. Of course, then he would know I’d been eavesdropping. If the male doesn’t want to discuss it, my questions will only risk creating a rift between us—right before I need the leverage of his goodwill.
A knock at the door. I answer it as I finish tying off the long braid I’ve woven into my hair.
“Good morning.” Riah smiles warmly.
