Page 244 of Blade of the Nightking

I didn't need to turn.

The bond cinched unbearably tight, robbing me of breath as his presence unfurled at my back like a gathering storm, dark and inescapable. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve hated the feeling, would’ve despised the tether that refused to let either of us forget the other.

But with the Ambrosia singing through my veins, everything was different. He felt impossibly solid, the one fixed point in a world that had begun to drift, until the tether became an anchor cast into a turbulent sea, grounding me. The urge to lean into it was overwhelming.

Then, for the briefest instant, I thought I felt something.

Rage. Fierce enough to draw blood. Beneath it, a frustration so profound it bordered on desperation. And beneath even that…

Something else.

It was gone before I could make sense of it.

I blinked. The Ambrosia was playing tricks on my mind.

"Am I interrupting?"

His voice rolled over me from behind, thunder wrapped in silk, as steady and unwavering as ever. Yet this time I caught something I'd never heard before—a roughness beneath the silk that made me question if I hadn't been imagining things after all.

It was such a tiny imperfection. And yet somehow, it was utterly devastating.

Too bad it belonged to him.

I turned, fully intending to greet him with my customary scowl.

Instead, I found myself looking up. And up. My head kept tipping back until I finally found his face.

Was it the Ambrosia making everything feel so absurdly exaggerated, or had he always been this imposing? He was a mountain, eclipsing the room behind him.

He wasn't looking at me.

He was locked on Thalassis. His eyes pulsed faintly, fixed on the High Lord with such terrible intensity that, for one fleeting moment, I wondered if he was considering simply reaching into his mind and crushing it where he stood.

I cleared my throat.

The sound was enough. His attention shifted to me, and the moment those inhuman silver eyes settled on mine, something inside me hummed to life.

Godsdamned Ambrosia.

I planted my hands on my hips, silently cursing the slight sway in my stance. Looking up at him felt almost like standing beneath an ancient tree, its canopy stretching so impossibly high overhead that it threatened my balance.

"Yes," I said, lifting my chin another fraction to glare properly at him. "Actually, you are interrupting."

His jaw locked, his clenched teeth a cage for whatever savage impulse threatened to break free.

"Too. Fucking. Bad." The words sent a pulse of heat straight to my core.

Thalassis took a step backward and dipped his head in Rìan's direction. “I didn't mean to keep you, Elowen,” he said, retreating another pace. “How gracious of you, Aedric, to lend your mate to me for so long.”

Rìan smiled, but it promised a slow, painful death. “Anytime.”

Judging by the way Thalassis averted his gaze, the warning had landed—even if he believed it had come from Aedric.

“Wait,” I called.

He paused and glanced back over his shoulder.

“I wouldn't mind a proper tour of Pelaga. Tomorrow, perhaps?”