Yours,
Amos
Clover stared at the letter in her hand, frowning.He didn’t say I love you.
It had taken her two years to finally read Amos’ letters. She’d been so hurt and prideful that she couldn’t bring herself to, but one day, she’d broke and read them all.
She cried at some and laughed at others’ ridiculousness. There were dozens, and with every page, she never knew which Amos she would get. His mind swung between a heartbrokenboy and an unhinged man, but not long after she’d given in, he’d evened out.
Amos wasn’t heartbroken anymore—he was deranged. She found herself looking forward to each letter, and thrived on their game of cat and mouse through the bond.
He thought she’d cut Eddy off, but she would never. The fox did nothing wrong. She could tell when he connected with Amos and avoided him during those times. Amos would see her onherterms, not his.
She glanced back down at the letter.What does he mean he’ll see me soon?
A tingle slid down her spine at the thought. It wasn’t like he could come to the Human Kingdom, and she hadn’t planned to go home yet, but now…
She’d thought she couldn’t still love Amos because neither of them were the same people they were when they were sixteen, but after reading his letters, her heart fell right back into his hands.
Clover sighed. Her birthday was in a few months, and that would give her plenty of time to make arrangements to leave for a week. She’d tell Amelia her boss at the bakery wanted to send her to a baking class in the Human Kingdom capital or something.
The more Clover thought about it, the more excited she became. It would be nice to surprise her family—and her mate.
14
Amos watched Amelia disappear up the stairs of the boarding house she and Clover had moved into when they turned eighteen. Clover lingered at the bottom of the stairs, then looked straight at Roland and smirked, wiggling her fingers in a smartass wave.
Little minx.
“Follow her.”
Roland trotted to his bed beneath the sofa.“No. If she doesn’t want you to see her, I’m not helping you.”
“Whose side are you on?”Amos grumbled.“And take off that stupid sweater.”
Amelia had started putting knitted sweaters on Roland, convinced he was too cold, saying they were from her friend Nick. From what Callum told Amos, Rennick had been writing her anonymous letters and sending gifts.
Amos wanted to punch the Mountain Prince.
“I like them,”Roland replied, a smugness seeping down their bond.“It’s cold here.”
“Your magic keeps you warm,”Amos deadpanned.“You won’t die.”Roland ignored him and closed his eyes.“Fine.”Amos exhaled sharply.“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Amos.”
Amos cut the connection and blinked back into his surroundings. Familiar faces stared back at him from around the table in one of the many caves carved into the Dragon Village mountains.
They used it as a meeting point between those in the den and those living on the surface. They met more often now that Amos was set to take the throne in a little under five years.
It required meticulous strategy to kill as many highborns as necessary without gaining the king’s attention. The women were their greatest asset. None of these men believed women could be trained assassins. A fatal mistake.
Amos knocked on the table. “Is everyone ready to begin?”
“I’m here,” Isabella, the first woman Amos had sacrificed, blurted as she hurried into the room. She slid into a chair beside Rainer and batted her lashes at him. He winked back, and Amos fought a surge of jealousy.
Two years ago, Rainer had felt his mate bond break. Amos had offered to ask Charlotte to check the kingdoms’ registries for his mate, but Rainer didn’t want to subject her to his life of secrecy.
They assumed—hoped—his mate had married another. Marriage to another or death were the only two ways to break a bond. When Rainer turned twenty-five last month, the gods whispered Isabella’s name to him. It didn’t take long to realize it was their Isabella.
