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Her cheeks flushed a deep pink again, but for the first time, she didn’t look away or move the conversation to something else. Despite myself, I traced her jaw and then the translation mark, wanting to feel her skin. The column of her throat moved with a swallow and then her lips parted, her intake of breath so soft it was nearly unnoticeable. Anticipation welled inside me. My gaze sharpened, and arousal pulsed low in my stomach.

Phillip’s voice cut through the building moment.

“Shall we?”

Amethyst looked toward him, abandoning whatever choice she’d been about to make. I held back a sigh and focused on the guard. His hand was held toward the street where many of those who had attended the invocation were now walking, clearly heading to the Central Market and the larger celebration that would be happening all day there. With a nod, we joined the throng of people.

Amethyst walked beside me, nearer than typical, her hair brushing my arm and shoulder every couple steps. With each, my heart climbed my throat. It was almost impossible to breathe around its presence. The desire to pull her into me, run my nose over her throat until it was only my scent clinging to her clothes and her skin, was an ache in my very bones. Wisteria pulsed from me in soft waves I had no hope of hiding.

And this was with her scent hidden by the enchanted pendant.

Praise Persynthia that Arden was still in the basilica tending to Monique’s first heat. With him absent, no one with us was an alpha or omega and as such wouldn’t realize what was happening with me. After Amethyst’s unease and subsequent loss of control during the invocation, I didn’t have the ability to maintain any kind of decorum if someone mentioned my physical need right now.

Phillip and Heath kept a few paces behind us while Amaria, Shelby, and Vincent led the group deeper into the city and toward the Central Plaza. Amethyst seemed to pull herself out of some deep thought, looking around a bit confused.

“Are we not going back to the estate?”

I circled her wrist to appease that growing need to claim her, feel her, knot her. Another pulse of wisteria, and I almost groaned. Holy Yasmin, I was in some special kind of torment right now. It was Amaria who glanced back with a smile.

“We’re going to the Central Square to join some of the other festivities for a while.”

Amethyst stilled for a heartbeat, and I tightened my hold on her before dropping my touch entirely.

“Nothing so formal,” I assured her, quietly enough those also walking with us wouldn’t overhear. “Much like when we had lunch a few days ago.”

Though that was in one of the many parks scattered throughout the city. The Central Square was much larger and, especially this morning, would be much more crowded than that picnic lunch. There was no reason to set her even more on edge, though, so I kept the differences behind my lips.

She took a long breath and held it for several seconds. On the exhale, she nodded and rolled her shoulders. The group was a relaxed contentment that mirrored those who walked with us, their smiles and happy laughter a slam to my soul. Kids ran between some of the groups, chasing each other even as their parents called for a bit of caution. The sight seemed to relax Amethyst more than any of my words. Her shoulders dropped from her shoulders and that stiff gait eased into something much easier and softer.

As we turned onto the final street that led to the Central Square, I asked, “What made you so nervous during the end of the invocation?”

Amethyst glanced at me with a heavy frown. “I wasn’t nervous.”

“Your magic lashed out. It was very similar to when we were in the Forest and you were anxious about its feel.”

Her frown grew even more pronounced, her eyebrows furrowing. “My magic?”

Did she not know about her magic?

“Yes,” I said. “Your magic responded to some unease or anxiety you felt. It’s what caused the herbs to spin in the air.”

She pursed her lips. “I didn’t know I had magic,” she admitted eventually. “There isn’t any there.”

There. Her Arizona.

Before I could decide just what to say to that revelation, the group reached the Central Square. Amethyst’s attention diverted to the various stalls that had been erected over the last few days in preparation of the celebration. Vendors selling ribbon wands and kites and flower crowns sat along one edge while across from them were other carts full of the same herbs from the invocation. Bundles of rosemary and cinnamon sticks sat beside basil plants grown in greenhouses the last several weeks to be ready for the equinox. Still others sold bouquets of flowers—snowdrops and daffodils and various fruit tree blossoms—and small figurines of rabbits and hares and robins. A few of them also had acora feathers on display, the gray feathers catching in the sunlight, sold for much higher cost than any of the other wares.

The fountain in the center of the square was flowing, the water falling over the edges of the central basin and falling into the larger one. On its sides, every foot or so, was the kingdom’s crest painted in a deep indigo. Around its edges, the three siblings stood carved in full regalia. Siriena’s gown was draped across her, the laurels in her hair and adorning the gown painted with gold for the equinox. Sora’s wings were tucked in tight, each feather carved with detail that they seemed real in truth. Her dress was more simple than her sister’s, the fabric falling to the ground in a sheath of fabric tied around her waist. The leaves that were carved into the gown to mimic embroidery were gold today. Xaden’s regalia was more rigid, similar to what the royal guard wore. A half-cape fell to his waist and covered his left arm while the sleeveless tunic revealed a metal band that encircled his right bicep, also painted gold for the equinox. The laurel crown he wore was larger than Siriena’s, a marker of his being Persynthia’s consort. On his right hip, his sword hung sheathed, the hilt also gold for the occasion.

In the grass all around, kids played and adults talked and ate, sipping bits of wine or tea and laughing with each other. Some lounged on blankets like we had a few days ago, their faces turned toward the morning sun. Nearly everyone had herbs and flowers woven into their hair or their garments. From every cart and tree and fencing surround the square were ribbons, draped across the space in the same colors as the ribbon wands: green and pink and some purple, too.

Amethyst soaked in the scene, her gaze continually drifting back to the fountain. Phillip and Heath walked across the square with ease, their gazes sharp but their bodies relaxed. Some hesitated as they noticed the guards, the full regalia that signaled I was present. Shelby looped her arm with Amethyst’s, whispering something into her ear, and then guided her to one of the stalls selling flower crowns. Vincent walked with me as I followed the guard to the sprawling pavilion situated along the northern edge of the square looking out toward the lake. Phoebe and Simeon both stood from the places they lounged under the semi-transparent canopy, dipping their heads in formal bows. Their obsidian gems shone in the light as did the silver embroidery of their own tunics.

“Happy equinox,” Simeon offered as I stepped over the threshold of the pavilion and onto its red stones. Phoebe echoed the sentiment a heartbeat later.

I gave them both a warm smile. “Happy equinox.”

Simeon’s gaze caught on the mourning ribbon woven through my hair, and his mouth tightened. I knew he would disagree with my choice to continue marking my mother’s death. It was customary to mark the death for the first decade. After that, it was thought that Oltia and Rytar understood your grief and you were welcome to part with it as much as you desired.