Shock.
Guilt.
Confusion.
He didn’t know what stung more—seeing her in someone else’s arms…
or realizing she might have wanted to be there.
Twenty minutes later, Bálint sat alone on a broad, sun-warmed slab of stone nestled at the edge of the glade. The moss beneath his feet was springy and damp, and the light filtering through the leafy canopy above bathed everything in shifting hues of gold and green. Birdsong echoed faintly through the trees. Somewhere in the distance, a creek sang its endless lullaby, but he barely heard it.
He was too focused on the bruises blooming across his knuckles.
He flexed his left hand, watching the angry red skin stretch over the swollen joints. His dragon grumbled low in his chest, the rumble vibrating through his bones.
Should’ve toasted the boy.
Bálint exhaled and shook his head. “Yeah? And that would’ve gone over real well with Alice.”
His dragon huffed. She not like punch either. But she kiss boy who not her mate. She confuse.
“She’s scared,” Bálint murmured, rubbing his hand. “And I didn’t help.”
He winced—not from the pain, but the truth of it.
The air stirred. Shadows shifted. And then… a familiar presence blocked the patch of sunlight warming his shoulders.
He didn’t need to look up to know it was her.
He did anyway.
Alice stood in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, hip cocked slightly. Her expression was unreadable—but her eyes, goddess help him, they were full of things he couldn’t name. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Something like longing. Something like regret.
His shoulders stiffened as guilt washed through him. He dropped his gaze and looked away.
She released a soft sigh and her arms fell to her sides. She flicked her fingers, motioning for him to scoot over so she could sit down.
He slid across the uneven stone with a mumbled apology.
She sank down beside him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating from her skin, close enough for the familiar scent of her—wild rain and charged particles that buzzed against his flesh—to wrap around him like a whisper of home.
They sat in silence, the kind that wasn’t awkward… but wasn’t quite easy either.
Then she sighed again, quieter this time. “You want to know what happened.”
He didn’t answer. Just waited.
Alice rubbed her hands together, her voice dropping to a hush. “After I fell through the hole in the portal—” She released a shuddering breath and shook her head, staring at Geoff. “I landed on the Isle of Magic. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Enchanted. Alive. But I couldn’t feel the energy. Not like I used to. It was… like someone had shut off a part of me. Like breathing without air. There was no one else there. I was… alone.”
He turned toward her, frowning. Her hands trembled slightly, her fingers still rubbing together as if trying to conjure something that wouldn’t come.
“I was scared, Bálint. I didn’t know who I was without my ability to harness the surrounding energy. It’s always been a part of me. Suddenly… it was… gone. All gone,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “Then I met Elder. He’s… a tree. A really old, talking tree. He helped me. So did Geoff.”
He liked hearing his name on her lips. It had always felt… right. He didn’t like the way she said Geoff’s name. It rubbed both him and his dragon the wrong way.
Bálint’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt.
Alice kept speaking. “We stayed in the tree that night. There was a storm. Night Howlers came through, and—” Her voice broke, just a little. “Geoff protected me. He made me laugh when I thought I’d never laugh again.”
