I smacked his chest. “Because he’s a good man or because I only have eyes for you?”
Kaelric winked at me, not answering, and I shook my head.
“Cassian won’t be able to help us for a while. There’s political drama back in Aerlyn. He can’t go home.”
Kaelric nodded. His expression tightened slightly, a storm cloud of frustration passing behind his eyes.
“Then we will think of something else.”
I chewed on a fingernail, thinking deeply. Summoning metal magic was a good idea. The thought settled in my mind like a spark seeking tinder, refusing to be ignored.
‘Val?’
‘Yes, dear.’
‘Do you have magic capable of lifting yourself up and out of that well if you were able to draw from a stronger, non-human body?’
She was quiet, and I felt a quiver of fear rush through her. The emotion threaded down my spine, subtle yet unmistakable, like distant thunder warning of an approaching storm. Did she know what I was thinking? I hoped not. I tried to conceal it, but it felt sometimes as if we shared the same mind, our thoughts brushing against one another like pages pressed together in a book.
‘Brynn, my life was a unique one, and my attack and subsequent wolfkin transformation were one in a million.’
Her voice trembled at the edges, as though remembering that distant night pained her still.
‘But if I were wolfkin, or Elite, could you get yourself out of that well and defeat Mind Render without killing me?’
She didn’t answer, and in that glaring silence her answer was known. The quiet felt thick, almost audible, pressing heavy against my ribs.
“Are you talking to her?” Kaelric asked, tracing the line of my jaw with his fingers, still holding me tightly in his lap as we sat on the floor of the drafty cabin in the middle of the woods. His touch steadied me, grounding me against the whirlwind in my mind. The only sound was Godric’s steady whittling outside the door, each quiet scrape a reminder of his protection and watchfulness.
I nodded. “She is a wise counselor. Stubborn, too.”
He smiled. “That’s how I remember her.” His voice warmed, carrying a flicker of boyish affection that softened the edges of his grief.
I wanted to right all of the wrongs that had been done to Kaelric and his people, and Elia, too. I wanted to be the one to save Lunaria. That conviction settled in my bones, a quiet, steady burn beneath my skin. I felt destined for it, like it was the reason I was born. I knew that sounded so outlandish, I would never say it out loud, but I truly felt this was what I was meant todo. The Creator had to have made me for something more than the Dregs.
“Let’s head back to camp. I feel well rested, and you’re probably getting tired,” I told him.
He nodded. “We will keep working on a plan to get my mother out of that well. The intel you got about Mind Render and how it works is priceless.”
I nodded, standing and helping pull him up. His fingers lingered around mine for a moment, reluctant to let go, as if afraid I might slip away again.
As we stepped outside, I peered up at the moon. It was almost full. Another night and it would be.
Perfect.
It was only about a two-hour walk from the cabin back to camp inside of Loroc. Kaelric held my hand the entire time, stroking my palm and smiling sweetly at me. His thumb traced small circles over the heel of my hand, a soothing repetition that almost distracted me from the ache sitting low in my ribs. I wondered if we had met under different circumstances, if he would have courted me, asked me to go out on a date in Aerlyn at the finest tavern, and then a few weeks later, to be his girlfriend…
But no, from day one, I was just his mate. Which was better. It felt like we had always been this way, fingers intertwined, batting eyelashes at each other, my stomach flipping over every time I thought of kissing him. The forest seemed softer around us, leaves brushing overhead in gentle whispers as though the world approved of our closeness.
Not falling in love with Kaelric was never an option. I felt born to love him, and so I knew that the Creator had made us to fully be together. I knew in this moment I was born to be a wolfkin. Just like Valkaryn. The thought settled warm and heavy beneath my ribs, not frightening but inevitable.
‘Brynn, darling?—’
‘You can’t talk me out of it.’
She was quiet. Her silence made the world feel strangely hollow.
‘I was attacked. You can’t plan something like this. I know you love him. I loved?—’
