Page 163 of Of Masks and Fury

“Anything else?” Derren asked quickly, glancing toward the door.

We all shook our heads.

Lexie hoisted her pack, testing the weight.

“We still don’t know what this bond between us and Pherin and Gavelle means,” I whispered to Trew. “What we’re supposed to accomplish with it, if anything at all.”

“Does it matter? I’d choose you a thousand times over, with or without anyone telling me it’s significant.”

There it was again, the kind of declaration that made my heart stutter and my knees weak.

“You can’t just say things like that,” I said.

“Why not? It’s true.” He kissed my forehead. “Though I suppose I could add more flourishes. Compose poetry about your eyes. Compare you to celestial bodies.”

“Please don’t.”

Pure mischief filled his grin. “The moon pales in comparison to your beauty, my radiant?—”

I pressed my hand over his mouth, fighting laughter. “Stop.”

He kissed my palm, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Lexie snorted, shaking her head at our antics.

I pulled my hand back, my face burning. “We should focus on packing.”

“Of course.” But Trew’s smile lingered as he returned to his bag, adding the last of his supplies.

I forced myself to concentrate on my own pack, though my thoughts kept circling back to those words. Twin flames bond twice. The weave strengthens.

What did it mean for us and the magic we carried?

“I’m set,” Lexie said. “We’ll go raid the kitchen and wait by the back door for you.”

“Trying not to look conspicuous,” Derren said.

“Us?” She snorted as she left.

Kerralyn followed her and Derren out into the corridor.

I grabbed my pack, and we left as well. We didn’t speak as we hurried toward my room.

At my door, I pushed inside and went straight to where I’d left the journal on the small desk by the window. While Trew warded the room, I opened the book to the marked section.

Trew came over to stand beside me.

The symbol took up only a small part of the page. Circular, it had lines that intersected in a pattern that seemed almost deliberate in its complexity. Notes surrounded it in the margins, but they were written in a language I didn’t recognize.

Trew went absolutely still.

“What?” I looked up at him, catching the way his jaw had clenched.

“I’ve seen this before, in my father’s papers.”

My heart kicked against my ribs. “You’re certain?”

“Yes.” He reached toward the page, then hesitated. “May I?”