When their parents died, Darian was just nineteen. The twins were only fifteen. He could’ve walked away, could’ve run away from the weight of it all. But he didn’t. He stayed with them, protected them, looked after them the best he could. And not long after that, he joined the Veilguard.
That’s when I met him. And Ronan.
You like her.
She signs it like it’s the simplest truth in the world.
But it’s not. Not for me.
I nudge her shoulder lightly with mine. “You didn’t tell me you were a Seer.”
Yeah, I’m changing the subject. But it matters. More than she realises.
The Astral Sanctum would come for her if they ever found out what kind of power she’s carrying. And if she’s as strong as Temptress says… that’s not a good thing. Not in this realm.
The constant headaches she used to complain about—it all makes sense now. The way she always seemed to know more than she let on. But if Vespera finds out, or that bastard King Draeven… I don’t even want to finish that thought.
Don’t change the subject.”Her eyes are locked firmly on mine.It is what it is—I can’t change being a Seer. But you… You’re out here hiding from your feelings for Ravena.
I stand, brushing my hands down my pants, jaw tight as I look down at her.
“My feelings don’t matter,” I say flatly. “Whatever they are… she’s with Ronan. And the psychopath.”
She could be with you, too.
I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Yeah, right.”
The idea is ridiculous. Witches and humans, we don’t share. The Veilguard aren’t supposed to have relationships, even if we aren’t a part of it now. I don’t even know if I could share her.
“She could never be with someone like me,” I say under my breath, not wanting to fully admit it.
Daleyza stands, stepping in front of me until I can’t avoid her anymore. She waits for me to focus on her.
You’re too hard on yourself. Just talk to her.
Her hands fall to her sides, and she glances toward the house. My gaze follows, and there she is—Temptress—standing in the doorway like she felt the shift in me a mile away. There’s worry on her face, not the kind that demands answers but the kind that aches for the truth.
My heart is beating hard in my chest, loud enough that I swear I can feel it echo in my ears. Images flash behind my eyes—her body bare in the sunlight, the way her smile curves when she’s truly happy. And now, as she steps slowly down the stairs, I notice something different. Her eyes. They don’t carry the same shadow they used to. That bone-deep loneliness I used to catch when she thought no one was watching… It’s not there tonight.
Even when I was drunk, I noticed it. I noticed her.
Daleyza winks at me as she turns, subtle as ever. On her way to the house, she quickly squeezes Ravena’s hand. That silent encouragement on the way only she can give. And then she disappears, leaving the two of us standing in the quiet.
“How much did you hear?” I ask, my voice comes out rougher than I meant it to be. But she’s close. Too close. Close enough that I can see the purple flecks in her silver eyes.
She shrugs her shoulders, casual—but her gaze never leaves mine. “Not much,” she says quietly. “Just that you think you don’t deserve me.”
Because I don’t. I never will
I look away. “I don’t.”
She moves in my line of vision, her brows pulled together, something soft settling in her expression.“You don’t get to decide that for me, Kieran.”
I finally let myself look at her properly.
She’s wearing a soft, pale pink sweater—too innocent, too sweet for someone like her—but it hangs off her shoulder, slipping low enough to reveal the faded imprint of an old vampire bite. Just below it, there’s another fresh one. Malriks, no doubt. It pisses me off more than anything, knowing that she's his.
Her collarbones catch the light that’s starting to set, and now that I know what she looks like under that sweater, it's goddamn torture. I shouldn’t be thinking about it, but I can’t stop.
