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The thought of the Raeth sovereign made her chest constrict. Rukia had only been with him a handful of days, but their time together had made her realize that his absence was like losing a vital piece of herself.
The sweet scent of bubbling water welcomed her home, but she didn’t stop until she was within the clutches of her collection room. The miniature sailboats, once a hobby she’d happily kept, seemed now to only be collecting dust.
While several reminded her of the earthy tones of Gideon or the wild blues of Jeremiah, far too many reminded her of Isaiah. The stark white sails against a hull of black or dark navy, or the cream sails against a chocolate brown hull: she missed the Raeth so deeply it hurt.
Lost in thought, she hadn’t even noticed the sound of footfalls approaching, nor Jeremiah’s frame filling the doorway. The redhead watched her solemnly.
Rukia froze when she caught sight of him. The potent streak of anger that’d been his constant since Gideon’s death had suddenly drained away. She watched him, guarded, trying to distance herself from what might be brewing behind his stony gaze.
He blinked and the heat disappeared. “I thought you might be running again.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
Then, silence. Jeremiah remained, staring at her, and she stared back. No hint of his joyful personality flickered behind his shadowed eyes, and it was only then that she realized she hadn’t just lost one friend—she’d lost two.
Jeremiah seemed to realize the same thing in the same moment. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He shifted on his feet. “I didn’t mean what I said. About you betraying him.”
The raw emotion of the comment fueled the burning sensation behind her eyes, but Rukia didn’t allow them to fall. “Are you saying this because you actually don’t believe it, or because you don’t want me to run again?”
“Both.”
It wasn’t good enough. “You hurt me, Jeremiah, when I was already hurting. You accused me of betraying Gideon when he hadn’t even been in the ground twenty-four hours. What kind of a friend does that?”
Shame made him drop his head. “A bad one.”
Jeremiah turned away, and the bleakness on his face made her gut clench. She reached out toward him, her hand on his forearm, to stop him from disengaging.
“We need to stick together, Jeremiah,” she offered. “With Tyee, we’re never sure how long he’ll stay, but know that I’ll be here. I’m not giving up, and I don’t want you to, either.”
A shiver went through him. “He’s really gone, isn’t he?”
“I don’t think he’s coming back.”
His shaky gasp laid bare the struggle within him, and Rukia realized that right now, she needed to be the strong one. That she needed to be the rock upon which the ocean crashed, holding Jeremiah up when he was being swept out to sea.
Moving as if on autopilot, she linked her arms around Jeremiah’s waist, the two comforting each other in a way they never had before. Rukia’s soundless sobs were muffled against his chest, exposing her emotions to the world.
Except it wasn’t only Gideon she’d lost.
Here, in the comforting familiarity of Jeremiah’s warmth, in the intimate confines of her home, her soul yearned for Isaiah with such need that it hurt.
Chapter Thirty
EverythingIsaiahhadtakenfor granted was suddenly in question. His treaty with the four other sovereigns would be called into question today. They had called a meeting after discovering what’d happened with Jacob.
If the treaty was found to be breached, war could be upon them. The people of his clan would need his strength to hold them together as they walked into the uncertainty of the future.
Bonds would be tested, tempers would flare, and alliances would be forged.
And all of it depended on him.
Isaiah had been sovereign of the Sylth for five centuries, and he’d been strong for all of them. Now, when he’d lost his mentor—the man who was his father for all intents and purposes—he faltered.
