I do love when you call me that.
He raised a brow.And here I thought you objected to being seen as small.
That isn't what you mean when you say it.
She turned to him.
When you say it like that, I feel…treasured.
The Bond glowed between them, but his worry remained beneath the joy of her confession.
“And you’ll go without Reskala?" he asked aloud. "Can you not wait? I’ve chosen replacements for you. I’m going for the inspection in a few days.”
“I’ll be careful,” she replied, stepping free of Lu’ma’s hands.
The alley tugged at her the way stale magic did when it threatened to slough into nothing. If she waited, the city would eat its own tracks. She would lose the trail. Kailorien knew this too. He just didn’t want to admit that the answers they sought were important enough to risk her safety.
Her commoner’s robes hung loose, the faded hem brushing the thin dress beneath. She crossed the room toward him, the rustle of cloth a quiet rebellion. Kailorien turned in his chair, and she stepped between his knees without hesitation. His arm curved around her waist, tugging her closer until the edge of his desk pressed into her hip. She wrapped her arms around his neck; he leaned into her, pressing his ear to her chest as if the cadence of her heart could steady him.
“I cannot wait even another day,” she murmured. “The magic won’t remember forever. It’s already been too long.”
He let out a low breath, warming the silk over her sternum. “You’re looking for clues about the Gliders,” he said, “but Auryn—” his voice deepened, “they’re dangerous. Unpredictable. Volatile.”
“No one will see me,” she promised. “I’ll arrive around the hour of Curfew, when Reskala are posted at every corner looking for excitement to brighten their dull patrols. If needed, I will call them for support.”
Her reassurance didn’t have the intended effect. Instead of looking hopeful, the line between his brows intensified. “The Solutus don’t care about Curfew. They’ve been more active lately. More daring.”
She nodded, pressing her cheek against his temple. “I’ve felt the tremors from their bombs. I’ve seen you come home covered in ash and blood. Even the Council can’t avoid motions on Reskala deployment now.”
He agreed. Every new vote meant another round of briefings, another District to pacify before nightfall. And with the Cycle of Dark encroaching, Riftwatch would be added to that list.
Kail…this is why we can’t stop. If the Gliders are moving through the Cataclyss, that means the Solutus are as well. How else are they moving between Districts if not through hidden tunnels?
But why must you be the one to seek those answers? Am I not enough?
You are.
She kissed his temple. Then the line between his brows.
But you carry too much already. You disappear for days sometimes, lost between training new recruits, searching for the Solutus, supporting when they set another market or temple ablaze.
Too many fronts. Too many fires. The city is always burning somewhere.
You cannot be everywhere at once, Kailorien.
He didn’t move for a long moment, his head resting against her chest, his arms heavy with reluctance. He released her only enough to meet her gaze.
I won’t stop you. But I will worry until you return.
Don’t. I promise, all will be well. I won’t go for long. Just enough to scan the area with my Weave. After we are finished, we will take a portal straight back here.
Auryn smoothed her hands over his shoulders, feeling the taut lines of muscle beneath his tunic.
“I’ve been wondering,” she said, “how the Gliders have come to the city. Had they entered through the Veinroads, the Council would have known about them as a diplomatic envoy. These attackers, however…” her eyes narrowed, “did not have diplomacy in mind.”
Kailorien was silent for a moment, his gaze drifting past her shoulder as though weighing how much truth to give her. “Gliders have come and gone from the city without diplomatic sanction for centuries,” he said at last. “They’ve never been hostile—at least not to those of holy blood.”
“We have a treaty withthem—”
