His lips quirk as his eyes drop to the untouched food, then lift again, slow and deliberate. “I don’t eat real food.”
I try not to squirm under the weight of his stare. “Then why did you sit through the entire meal?”
He leans forward slightly, enough to make mybreath falter. “Because I’ve been busy looking at the meal I want to eat.”
The heat in my cheeks scorches its way down my throat. It should scare me–the thought of him drinking my blood–but all it does is cause flutters to erupt in my core.
I’m not sure what that says about me, or my survival instincts in this world.
Torryn is on his feet before I can speak and levels a glare across the fire. “Be respectful to her.”
Riven’s eyes slide toward him without losing their amusement. “I meant the pie that’s next to her.”
“You didn’t even glance at the pie.” Torryn crosses his arms, making his biceps and chest muscles flex beneath his tight shirt. “You were too busy eyeing her like the only course you’d want.”
Sylvin sighs dramatically from his seat, dabbing at his mouth with a cloth. “Must we always spiral into threats with you two? I’d like to digest this meal in peace. Arguments are bad for my tummy.”
“Then stay out of it,” Torryn growls.
“I tried,” Sylvin says with a shrug, “but my stomach is already twinging with pains.”
The tension sharpens until I lift my hand, palm up between them. “Enough, everyone. Please.”
I keep my voice soft, but the command lingers, curling into the quiet like smoke.
Torryn’s jaw ticks as he sits again. Riven leansback, unbothered and still slightly amused with a smirk that refuses to fade. Sylvin, to his credit, simply raises his brows and keeps his mouth closed.
There are still too many things I don’t understand. Too many pieces I need to gather before any of this makes sense.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say, fingers idly brushing the worn fabric of my pants, “that I need to travel. To see more of the other territories.”
Three pairs of eyes find me, fully focused.
“I’m grateful for everything here,” I add quickly, turning to Torryn. “You’ve made me feel…safe. The shifters’ reverence for nature, the way they live in harmony with the land–it’s beautiful. It feels right.”
The crinkle around his eyes that seems to remain present whenever the other kings are around, earning constant glares, fades.
“But I need to understand the rest of the world too,” I continue. “You gave me a rundown of the other factions while I was trying to piece things together these past days–the vampire hierarchy, fae courts, the way wraiths harness shadows, but I can’t just learn from stories. I have to see it. I need to meet the people and walk their lands. Feel what pulls me there, if anything does.”
The moment the words leave my lips, the ground beneath me shifts. Just a subtle tremble, but I feel it. A hum of agreement.
None of the others seem to notice.
Torryn offers a nod of understanding, but I see the wistful glint that enters his eyes with the deep breath that raises his chest.
A part of me wishes I could stay here too. The same way part of me knew I could forge a life with the wraiths.
I push the ache from Azyric’s absence deeper into my chest and drag my focus back to the present.
Sylvin is the first to break the silence, lacing his fingers together as he leans forward. “If you’re seeking answers with your tie to the earth, I can assure you there’s no place more potent than my court. We are tied to the elements.”
Riven exhales slowly, the sound sharp enough to cut. “Of course the fae thinks he’s the answer.”
“I don’t think it,” Sylvin corrects, expression bright and sharp behind his smile. “I know it. We all saw the ground crack open around her. That’s not a vampire thing, my dear bloodsucker–it’s a fae thing.”
“I didn’t realize your ego had grown this big,” Riven mutters, crossing one boot over the other. “Maybe you’re hoping it’ll have its own gravitational pull with the size of it, to drag her to you.”
Sylvin’s eyes glitter. “Deflection for the inferiority you feel right now. It’s to be expected.”
