Page 74 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

Cera needed a better answer. Craved it, the way she desired a heavy cloak on a cold winter’s day. Something to cut the chill. Something to fight their icy reality.

Maybe this was why she’d taken so long to act.

Don’t fall for him, Tasi had said on the first day.

She didn’t have love to spare – but Raiden had somehow made her wish she did. He wasn’t a partner to her, but over time, she’d wanted him to be a friend. An ally in this fight. Except he was staring at her with remorse, which meant he still didn’t understand.

“Will you try?” Cera asked.

Begged.

Raiden frowned, but he didn’t shy from the conversation or make up lies. “My grandfather tried. Pinske’s ancestor mauled him. He almost died.” Raiden drew a slow breath, putting a hand on the big metal doors of the aviary, peering through the wide gate to watch Pinske settle into a huge tree. “They won’t obey without the ocarina. With it, we’re safe.”

“And she’s trapped.”

Raiden didn’t offer any excuses.

He knew what he was doing.

Cera swallowed hard, pressing against him. “What if I teach you? Our children can do better than this.” That sentence seemed to soften his defenses. He stepped closer, and she continued encouragingly, “I’m proof—”

“Korvi is a raven, not a raptor,” Raiden inserted.

“And my ancestors flew on eagles,” Cera replied.

The weight of that settled over them.

Cera’s fingers feathered along his face, his neck. He leaned into her touch, his eyelids closing. She pressed her lips to his cheek, his nose… his lips. “Raiden,” she whispered against him. He met her touch, hungrily, his arms winding around her waist. Her fingers threaded between the leather string along his neck, her other hand reaching into the folds of her cloak.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

She cut the ocarina from his neck and smashed it to the ground.

It was anticlimactic – but then again, shattering magic older than both of them combined usually was. The spell simply dissipated, and the clay shards lay as penance for the possibilities lost. Raiden inhaled sharply, wheeling away from her, speechless. She stepped back a few paces, readying her knife.

It was always a bit of a question how they’d react, after all this.

“Y-You—” Raiden said, rage tingeing his tone. “You destroyed it.”

“You don’t need it,” she replied simply. “No one does.”

In the aviary, Pinske had perked up, spreading her wings. Her shriek was earth-shattering, a victory cry as the spell was lifted, as she was truly freed from her ancestral curse. Raiden watched it with horror, but the aviary was closed, so he had some time.

He pivoted towards her, his expression fueled by utter betrayal. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie. If Raliana had duchesses, I’d be right up there. My twelfth great-grandfather rode the Shining Eagle itself into battle against the dragons. And in the generations since, we’ve watched its children be massacred for the petty squabbles of humanity.”

Raiden stalked towards her. He hadn’t struck her as the violent type, but then again, his entire region was now vulnerable to attack. She couldn’t blame him for directing that fear into something he could do. “You’ve ruined us.”

“I liked you,” she said. “Think twice about what you’re planning to attempt next.”

“Or what?” he snarled.

“Or I’ll kill you for touching my wife,” Tasi said, emerging from the darkness of the nearby staircase. Her knife made Cera’s tiny blade look comical, and she twirled it in her hands with dark promise.

Raiden balked. “Your wife?”