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She took one look at me and rolled her eyes. “It’s the mating bond.”
I blinked. Was everyone able to read my mind—
“I can smell it on you—Arran. I can smellhimon you.” She said it so casually, not even pausing as she went to prepare tea.
My gaze dropped to my chest. I tried to take a covert sniff.
More eye rolling. “Not like that.”
“It is your essence. It is not just you anymore.” She lifted one copper brow. “You’ve accepted the mating bond.”
“Arran and I have been mated since the Joining,” I said, adjusting my seat. The seam of my leggings ran straight between my legs and was rubbing against my…
“Yes, but that is physical. Your blood mixed. This is different. Deeper,” Cyara explained, flicking her wrist and lighting the hearth so she could set the tea to steep.
“How do you know so much about the bond?”
She shrugged, her wings moving with her shoulders before she seated herself on the bench near the hearth and tucked them in tighter against her body. “I asked my father before I left.”
I tipped my head to the side. “I remember that.”
“The rest of it is intuition and observation. It is difficult not to draw conclusions when I spend so much time in close proximity to the two of you—rutting like stags.”
I cringed. “Sorry.”
Cyara rested her head back against the wall, letting her eyes drift closed. “Don’t be. Mates are rare and special. You deserve to be happy, Veyka.”
I let those words wash over me.
We sat in silence for a few minutes while the tea steeped. When the kettle whistled, I shooed Cyara away and fetched it myself, pouring two cups.
We sipped in silence for a few more minutes. There was precious little of it in these tiny quarters. Despite all they’d done to make us comfortable, the faerie city was not built for fae. Even the more petite ones, like Cyara and Maisri.
But even still, I found myself breaking it.
“I told Arran that I love him.”
Cyara’s eyes popped open. A flutter of wings and wafting steam from our tea, and she was upon me. Somehow, she managed to get the hot tea out of the way while she threw her arms around my shoulders.
I blinked several times. Quickly, then more slowly. I let my arms come up from my sides and embrace my friend in return.
When she sat back, her turquoise eyes were glimmering.
“That was… more than I was expecting,” I said, reaching for my tea—desperate to cover my awkwardness.
Cyara settled back on her part of the bench, taking a long sip of her own drink. Her lips curved into a smile. “Lyrena and Osheen owe me a week of dishes each.”
I didn’t know what surprised me more—her effusive show of affection or the fact that my quiet, observant handmaiden had wagered on me. The other two didn’t shock me at all.
“I should be the one who doesn’t have to do dishes,” I grumbled.
Cyara chuckled soundlessly. “Does this mean we will be leaving soon?”
I frowned. “What does one have to do with the other?”
“Arran has wanted to leave since we arrived. He’s only lingering here for you.”
“What?” I nearly spilled my tea. Ancestors below. “Did he say that?”
