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“It is time for bed,” Cyara said—too sharply. She was on her feet in a second, brushing dust from her soft gray trousers and reaching for Maisri.
The child was technically Osheen’s ward, but she was willful enough to take an entire group of adults to mind her.
Maisri’s eyes darted to Osheen.
He was already shaking his head. “Agreed. It has been a long day—”
“Every day is a long day!” She slid adroitly from Cyara’s grasp, dodged around Osheen, and curled her hand into mine. Ancestors, I was such a fool for the girl. “Veyka, let me guess for you.”
I sighed. “Just a quick—”
“Ooooh no, I want you to guess for Arran!” she squealed in delight at her own idea.
My stomach tightened.
I’d been avoiding this pairing all day. I knew Arran… how could I not? His soul was quite literally entwined with my own. Which was precisely why I did not want to play this game with him. To know someone on that level… it was too vulnerable. I would be too exposed. Before all of my friends.
I bit down hard on my lower lip, trying to summon some response. It was so much harder with Maisri. I couldn’t just spit a sassy retort or pull my dagger to get what I wanted. She was achild. And she trusted me.
“Let me start.”
Arran sat across the campfire. Usually he sat right beside me, crowding into my space, silencing the demand of the mating bond in our chests through constant physical contact. But tonight he’d made a different, very pointed choice—scaring the shit out of Percival.
The clever imp was trying not to show it, but I’d caught the flash of fear in his eyes when he looked in Arran’s direction.
But Arran wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to our captive-prisoner-guide. His dark eyes were on me.
Was that the reflection of the campfire or a glimmer of desire?
Lyrena took a swallow from her canteen, allowing a wobbly smile to rise. She started with an easy one. “What is Veyka’s favorite food?”
Arran answered immediately. “Chocolate croissants.”
The tension eased slightly. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Lyrena hadn’t been asking about everyone’s hopes, dreams, and deepest fears. Surely, I could manage this.
“What side of the bed does she sleep on?”
His stoic glare faltered, just slightly. A subtle tick beneath the stubble. “The left.”
I bit down even harder on my tortured lower lip.
Lyrena tipped her head to the side as she considered her next question. “Would she prefer an evening of sneaking out of the goldstone palace and running with your beast through the mountains or eating a meal of all her favorite foods while watching you snarl at Parys?”
Thatwas a good question.
Lyrena knew I loved freedom. When had she realized about the sneaking out, I wondered. When didn’t really matter. She’d realized, and hadn’t stopped me. Even pledged as my Goldstone Guard. She would have had to keep it a secret from Gawayn.
A newfound warmth for my friend kindled in my chest.
Arran didn’t take time to consider. His answer was already on the tip of his tongue, a slight smile lifting the corner of his mouth. Ancestors, his mouth. The stubble on his chin and cheeks was longer than ever—soon it would actually qualify as a beard.What would Arran’s beard feel like between my…
“She hates running and she loves it when I’m possessive of her.”
Ancestors below.
He was so fucking right.
Osheen coughed into his hand, Cyara rolled her eyes so emphatically I practically heard it, and Maisri made a very high-pitched sound that was half laughter, half squeal.
