Hysteria. That’s what the healers called this.
What her mother would’ve called this.
The pain hit her like a hammer on an anvil. She pulled herself together, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “No,” she said, chest heavy but still chuckling. “I’m not pregnant.” She glanced up at him. “You’ve lived most of your life in the palace, around a queen and her Armature. Even knowing how my magic works, you genuinely thought I might bepregnant?”
Matheo shrugged nervously, running a hand behind his neck. “I don’t know! Delaynie exists! And I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“What, sick?” She took a shaky step past him. “You’ve known me for less than a year, Matheo. I assure you, queen or not, I’m still human.”
He didn’t answer; he just followed silently after her.
Mariah slipped from her bedroom, again avoiding the mess she’d made with a grimace, her feet carrying her to the balcony.Pushing open the doors, she took in a deep, steadying inhale, the early morning breeze wrapping around her and calming the itch still racing along her skin.
Her nausea slowly ebbed away, and that loosened string of fury grew.
No matter how he’d done it—or if it had even been him—Kol had tried to take something beautiful from her. Tried to twist it up with his poison, to prick her with a thorn of insecurity and doubt.
Kol had already stolen too much. She would not let him take anything else.
And she knew exactly what she had to do to stop him.
Wings fluttered softly, pulling her back to the present.
Perched less than a foot from her on the railing was that same golden eagle, her feathers still rustling as she settled her wings across her back. She had Mariah pinned with a fierce golden eye, and Mariah couldn’t deny the intelligence she saw there.
The eagle dipped her head, wings splaying slightly, and something in the earth settled beneath Mariah’s feet.
The eagle wasbowing.
Mariah lifted a hand, still a little shaky. She ignored Matheo’s quiet word of warning.
The eagle blinked, as if giving her silent consent.
When Mariah’s fingertips brushed the eagle’s cloud-soft feathers, something in her chest sparked and stuttered back to life.
Mariah gasped, almost doubling over. Her free hand landed on the railing, next to the eagle. Her breaths sawed out of her as that dark, cold place in her soul finally sputtered, the first sign of life in a week.
Her magic. It was still there. It hadn’t left her. It was not gone.
It faded as the moments passed, calming back into empty quiet, but Mariah knew what she’d felt. Her magic fell dormant again but the reminder lingered, like a forgotten word just on the tip of the tongue.
“Mariah! Are you all right?” Matheo gripped her shoulder, his voice wrought with concern. His wide hazel eyes flitted between her and their companion. Mariah slowly returned to herself, eyes snapping open to the flood of desert sun. She still clutched the balcony railing with one hand, her other buried in the Attlehon eagle’s feathers.
“I’m fine.” If she had to say that one more time this morning, she’d probably burst. Mariah straightened her spine, shrugging off Matheo’s hand.
The eagle watched her with brilliant, knowing intensity. As if she, too, had felt Mariah’s magic shudder awake.
Despite all the confusion and panic and rage swimming through Mariah, threatening to consume her, there was one emotion that rose above the rest.
Resolve.
Her fingers lifted from the feathers, and she stroked down the eagle’s back. The raptor fluttered her wings as if appreciating the attention, her beak clicking with what seemed like happiness.
Mariah’s lips tipped into a smile.
“I think she deserves a name, don’t you think?”
Matheo stepped closer, grimacing warily. “Not my first choice for a pet, if I’m being completely honest.”
