Finn looked at me sadly. “I don’t think so.”
“But she left him. I think it was years before I was born, and it’s been fifty years here?—”
“And twenty-two for her. If I had to guess, there’s a part of her, and a part of him, that’s drawn together even to this day. They may be choosing to not physically be together and may have chosen to part ways, but there is always going to be a connection between them. And some pain that comes with ignoring that connection.”
“And what happens if you do reject the bond?” I asked.
Finn’s mouth opened and then shut as he stared at me.
“I know people who have delayed the bond,” Freya mused, “but to reject it outright… especially if the other person has accepted it? I can’timaginethe pain that would cause.”
“But what about death?” I asked. “If one mate dies, what happens?”
“Well, the other survives, of course,” Finn answered. “But to live without the other half of your soul… always reaching for something that isn’t there? I imagine most people just wouldn’t want that.”
“So Zachariah is with Andrei?—”
“While still mated to Rose,” he finished simply.
“This mates thing seems like a pain in the ass,” I grumbled as the door opened.
I didn’t need to look up to know it was Griff, to confirm that the sense of rightness I was feeling came from him entering the room. That sense of rightness I didn’t have with anyone else. Not even Finn. I liked and trusted Finn, and there was a comfort with him. But Griff… I’d stopped lying to myself about what I felt, even if I had no idea if he felt even remotely the same. Every time I thought he might, he pulled away—just as he had earlier today—or I would remember how he had told Finn we were just friends. And I still wasn’t willing to risk finding out if he meant it.
I met his eyes as he came through the door, holding a bottle of wine, and saw him pause, eyes flickering over me as he did every time he saw me, as though he needed to reassure himself that his charge was unchanged. A warmth briefly flashed through his eyes, and I offered him a shy smile as he slid into his usual seat beside me. He poured the Aurantian wine and clinked his glass with mine. A rich, deep flavor coated my tongue with notes of cherries.
“So Finn.” Freya turned her attention to him, watching as he took a sip of wine. “Will we be seeing Nuala at the Blathaine ball?”
Finn spluttered the wine all over the table. Without missing a beat, Freya handed him a napkin, an innocent look on her face.
I shoved aside the memories that her casual mention of that night brought up. Griff covered my knee with his hand under thetable and gently squeezed. I bumped his leg with mine, a silent thanks and reassurance that I was alright. He left his hand on my thigh, and I took a large sip in an attempt to ignore the flutters that came with his touch.
“Whyever would you bring her up?” Finn managed to choke out.
Freya shrugged. “She seemed like she wasveryinterested in you when we went to the tavern. And I still remember when you came back for a visit right after you met her.” She turned to me, her eyes twinkling. “He wasinfatuated.” She stressed the last word.
“I was not!” Finn protested.
“She was very pretty,” I added. “And seemed enamored of you. Well,” I amended, “certainly a fewpartsof you.”
Griff and Freya roared with laughter. Finn was turning all sorts of colors and making strangled noises. As much fun as this was, I decided to take pity on him.
“But are you telling me there’s another ball I’m expected to attend?” Everyone heard the dismay in my voice.
“There’s one for every High Day!” Freya exclaimed.
“There are four of those damn things?” The thought was out of my mouth before I could think of better phrasing.
Griff laughed again, finally moving his hand. I’d noticed that he was laughing more these days. As though in here he could relax from the duties the outside world put on him.
Finn chuckled too, clearly glad the attention was no longer on him. “The irony of our queen-to-be hating public events.”
Talk moved on from the next ball with Finn regaling us with various stories from their childhood, probably to keep the attention from going back to whatever was happening with Nuala.
Laughing, I rested my head back and brushed Griff’s muscular arm, stretched out in its usual position along the bench. A decent amount of wine had been consumed, and it was the most natural thing in the world to rest against him, as the now-common jolt flowed through me. I saw him start out of the corner of my eye, as though he felt the same thing. As his hand curved around my shoulder,tilting me into him, I stopped fighting the distance and leaned against him. There was a momentary hitch in his breath, and then he relaxed against me too.
This was nice. Friends. Wine. Whatever Griff was to me. Good food. This was what I’d longed for while I was crawling through mud and practicing the sword in a blacksmith shop.
This was family.
