The bear sways.
Another energy signature, darting toward us.
“Georg! Oh, Georg!”
A woman’s panicked shouts ripple through the stillness. She bursts through the underbrush, wearing a long skirt and a tear-stained expression, her eyes haunted with an anguished fear that can only belong to a mother. She kneels beside Mayah.
“I told you not to wander off alone,” she says to the unconscious boy through tears.
Thud.
The bear hits the ground, dark blood seeping into the earth.
“Help me bring him back to my cottage,” the woman pleads.
“Wait,” Mayah says, placing a hand on her arm. “He’ll lose too much blood.”
Lightning blind me—I see the resolve in her eyes. What she means to do.
“Mayah.” It’s a warning.
Her blue eyes meet mine, determined and beautiful. And I justknowshe’s not going to listen, and Skies damn me, it makes me fall harder for her. I can admit it to myself now, in this moment.
I’m in love with her. Every part of her.
Her defiance. Her fearlessness. Hergoodness.
Mayah’s hands glow with gentle light, and the woman gasps. I don’t blame her. I would’ve gasped, too, the first time I saw this magnificent woman heal a wound into nothingness, if I hadn’t been surrounded by my enemies.
Within minutes, the boy is healed. Mayah looks at me, eyes filled with wariness.
Does she see the admiration in mine? The love and respect and adoration and utteryearning? Does she see that I’d willingly impale myself on my sword to keep her safe? That I can scarcely take a breath without her pretty blue eyes haunting me?
She must, because she can’t hold my gaze. Turning to the woman, she murmurs, “He’ll sleep for a while. But your Georg will be just fine.” The woman’s eyes are wide, riveted to her son’s healed belly. Slowly, she turns to Mayah.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. Then she pulls the princess of Tundrayn into a tight embrace.
I carry Georg to their small cottage, his weight almost nothing in my arms, and tuck him into his mother’s bed. Mayah gently blotsthe sweat from his forehead with a washcloth, while his mother, Georgaina, lingers in the doorway.
Skies help me, I can’t tear my gaze from Mayah. She saved that boy’s life without a second thought—without concern for who she is.Whereshe is.
And I know, I just fucking know, if she had been there on that awful, skiescursed night, she would’ve healed Lev—enemy or not. Crown princess or not.
But Mayah doesn’t look at me. I ignore the sharp pang in my chest as she walks past me toward Georgaina.
“Stay and eat. Please,” the woman insists.
Mayah finally gifts me with her attention, shooting me a questioning glance.
I want to say no. It’s risky. We’re in Rebellion territory. If they knew the princess of Tundrayn and the Commander of Arbinj were here in this cottage…
But I know Mayah wants to stay—it’s evident in the hopeful slant of her lips—and I find myself nodding. My greedy hand finds her lower back as we follow Georgaina to her modest kitchen. Mayah doesn’t flinch or pull away and, for this fleeting moment, for the short distance from bedroom to kitchen, I pretend she’s mine.
Mine to care for.
Mine to protect.
Mine to love.
