“No,” she murmurs, eyes gleaming. “Something is different. I’m sure of it.”
Before I can stop her, she scrambles around the fire, settling beside me. Her hands shoot out, grasping either side of my face.
“Zema,” I groan, turning away, but as always, she ignores my protests.
She pulls me back, squeezing my cheeks like I’m some petulant child. Then she stills. A slow, wicked grin spreads across her face.
“Oh my,” she laughs, dark and delighted. “Maybe you should have brought wine instead of apples. It seems we have reason to celebrate.”
I sigh. “What nonsense are you spouting now?”
Her grin widens.
“You found her, didn’t you?” she breathes.
My stomach knots.
“You found your mate.”
My throat tightens, words stumbling over themselves before I manage, “How… how did you…”
Zema gives me a pointed look, as if the question itself is absurd, but then the excitement on her face wilts. Her grip on my face slackens.
“Oh, my. The fates didn’t tell me she was…” Her voice is quieter now. Softer. “I’m sorry, Daedalus.”
I place my hands over hers, gently peeling them away. “We are not here to talk about me, Zema.”
But she doesn’t let me go so easily. Even as I avoid her eyes, I can feel her watching me.
“Will they make you kill her?” she asks. The words are sharp, cutting through the space between us. She lets out a forced laugh, brittle and hollow. “Like they wanted you to kill me?”
My jaw clenches. “But I didn’t kill you, did I? Iwould neverhave killed you.”
She nods, her expression unreadable as she gestures around. “Yes, the perks of being the sister of a lord and the companion of a prince. A lovely little cave in the middle of nowhere, but I get to keep my head.” A humorless smile tugs at her lips, but her eyes are dark. “I fear your human mate does not have the same privileges.”
I lurch to my feet, desperate to put distance between us, to end this conversation before it burrows any deeper into me. But in my haste, I slam my head against the low ceiling with a dull thud.
“What is a human Awakened like?” she muses as I rub my head, her curiosity undeterred. “Does she look any different? She must smell different.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Zema,” I groan, staggering away from the humble fire, which suddenly feels like a raging inferno.
“You knew, didn’t you?” Zema presses, her voice a soft but persistent challenge. “That she was your mate. Just like I told you.”
I don’t answer immediately, my hand still rubbing the dull ache on my head as I turn to look down at her, surrendering to the weight of her gaze. It’s the least I can do. Admit the truth, at least in this moment.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “It was like lightning struck me.”
Her shoulders relax, and the tension that clung to her melts away, replaced by something lighter. A smile stretches across her face, as if my simple admission was a gift greater than my visit, greater than the apples I brought.
“Is she beautiful?”
The question feels heavier than it should. My chest tightens as I exhale, the breath burning in my lungs. “She is. Just as beautiful as you said she would be and just as fiery. Just as fierce.” The memory of her stirs in me. Amara Tyne, with her wild eyes and unbroken spirit. “Just as tormented.”
Zema’s lips tighten as she nods in understanding. “Good. What will you do now?”
“Nothing,” I say, my voice flat, resolute. “I’ll forget I ever met her and never think of her again.”
Zema frowns. “And then what, Daedalus? Will you stop the sun from rising? The moon from shining?”
