Her eyes glisten, and she shakes her head. “Now is not the time. You don’t understand, Vann,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You’ve doomed our home.”
“Arlet, please.” My braid falls over my shoulder.
I watch as her eyes track the movement and land on my neck. Recognition flashes as she sees my mating marks.
The tears start then, soundless at first, sliding down her cheeks. My hand moves on its own to brush the wetness away with my thumb. She looks at me, startled.
Something inside me breaks. I lean forward before I can stop myself, pressing my lips to hers. For one heartbeat, she doesn’t pull away. Her tear-streaked cheeks are warm against my mouth, and her lips, sweet as berries, are soft against mine. The world narrows to the sound of our joined pulse, the faint hum of the crystal at my chest trying and failing to find its partner in her missing stone.
The world around us spins, and a million memories turn through my head. The quips, the kisses, the trust. This kiss is hot, hot enough to make my bones remember what it is to be near her. To lie with her. To move within her, with the only desire that we be one for the rest of eternity.
Then a crash shatters the moment.
The greenhouse doors burst inward, splintering under force. Light floods the space around us as Arlet flings herself away.
Dozens of soldiers swarm in, blades drawn. The air stinks of iron and smoke. Arlet gasps as I pull her behind me, but there’s nowhere to run.
“What is this?!” Arion demands.
Magic presses against us. I hate elven magic and how it bends to the will of its owner, changing its shape to fit their needs. It’s crushing my lungs. I try to stand, and fail. Arlet is beside me, shaking. Arion steps forward, fury etched into his angular face. His eyes burn when he looks at her.
“You’ve betrayed me,” he says, each word dripping with poison. “And you”—he turns to me—“have defiled a sacred bond.”
“My king, please forgive me,” Arlet begins, still trying to salvage this. To save everyone, including me.
“You didn’t seal your vows. She doesn’t belong to you,” I interject.
The king’s expression twists. He raises his hand, and pain lashes through the air, striking like lightning. Arlet cries out.
“Doesn’t belong to me?” he says, laughing. “She will obey me forever.”
I snarl, fighting against invisible chains that drag me down to the ground.
An explosion like the one I heard the night of the masked ball crashes through the place.
Arion pauses.
The ground shakes.
And then I hear another voice—clear and furious—cutting through the storm.
“ARION!” It’s a female voice I have heard before. Mrath. “This isn’t over!”
Arion’s gaze flickers toward the sound, fury flashing across his features. “Take them,” he snarls to his guards. “Lock them below. I’ll deal with themafterI’ve dealt with her.”
The soldiers surge forward. I twist, swinging my elbow into the first one’s jaw. His bone cracks, and he stumbles back with a cry. I catch another by the throat and slam him into the wall. His helmet hits marble with a dull thud. A blade whistles past my ribs. I pivot, cleaver flashing. The weapon hums with heat, slicing through a guard’s armor like fat on a sizzling pan.
Arlet screams my name as another wave of magic ripples through the air. It hits me square in the chest—a crushing force that throws me backward. I crash into the glass and stone. Several of the shards bite into my arms. My muscles seize.
“Vann, stop!” she cries, but I can’t.
The next spell slams into me like a hammer. The world fractures into light and ringing silence. I hit the ground hard, tasting blood. My cleaver slips from my fingers, dully hitting the floor.
Two soldiers grab my arms. I fight them even as the magic tightens, but my strength bleeds out like sand through my fingers. The chains they throw around my wrists glow red-hot, sealing with a hiss that burns into my skin.
“Bind the beast before he breaks something else,” someone says.
I need to protect Arlet. I need to hide the seed.
