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  “Of course, Vasera.” The lines that marred Fawkes’ brow lightened, but they didn’t disappear completely. “Will there be anything else?”

  Rya thought it over for a moment and smiled. “Yes, go away.” She giggled when he gaped at her. “Take the day off, Fawkes. Go explore the city.”

  “My lady—”

  “No,” she interrupted sternly. “Go. There’s an adorable bakery in the square. Have you been there?”

  Fawkes spent every waking moment caring for her needs, and he never took time for himself. In fact, in all her life, she’d never seen him in the company of a female, and with his seventh millennia quickly approaching, Rya couldn’t stand the thought of him being alone for even one more year.

  “Bakery?” Fawkes blinked several times before looking to Garrik. “I don’t understand.”

  Holding his hands out to the side, Garrik shrugged. “I wouldn’t fight it. You know she always gets her way.” With a deep chuckle, he clapped Fawkes on the shoulder and pushed him toward the winding street that led toward the square. “I’ll watch over her. You have my word.”

  “Hmm, perhaps I was a bit hasty,” Rya mused as she watched Fawkes walk away, his head bent and his shoulders rounded. “Maybe I should call him back. He looks more like he’s marching to his death than taking the day off to explore.”

  Leaning sideways, Garrik kissed the top of her head and snorted. “To Fawkes, I don’t think there’s much of a difference between the two, but he’ll be fine.” With his arm around her shoulders, he led her toward the arched doors of the citadel. “Come inside, sister mine. The rains have arrived.”

  Indeed, it appeared the rains had followed them from the Eastern Isle. Clouds heavy with moisture churned overhead, and the dull roar of approaching thunder rumbled in the distance. Fat raindrops plinked against the stone walkway and splattered over her skin. Rya just laughed. It had been a long time since she’d found herself caught in the rain, and it reminded her of happier times as a youngling.

  Before she and Garrik could reach the recessed entryway of the citadel, the sky unleashed, pouring a deluge of rain on top of them that soaked Rya’s hair and dress. The fabric clung to her thin frame, and the skirt hung lifelessly around her legs as they hurried through the double doors, but still, she laughed. Her voice rang throughout the entrance hall, reverberating off the walls and bouncing back to her, the sound genuinely cheerful. It had been so long since she’d heard the sound of her own laughter, she’d almost forgotten what it was like to be happy.

  “Vasera, my goodness, forgive me for not coming sooner.” Lorcan Graystone, Kai’s personal attendant, rushed down a wide staircase and hurried to her. “You are absolutely soaked. Please, let me help you with that.”

  “Lorcan, stop.” Still smiling, Rya touched his forearm to stop him from fluttering around her. “You’re as bad as Fawkes, but a little water never hurt anyone.” She held her hands out to the side and took a step back for his inspection. “See?”

  With a roll of his eyes, Garrik muttered under his breath and snapped his fingers. Instantly, Rya’s dress was dry, the dampness vanished from her hair, and a warm breeze surrounded her, chasing away any lingering chill.

  “You are always so stubborn.”

  “You’re one to talk,” Rya countered.

  “I’m not the one who was dripping all over the floor and pretending like it was a good idea.”

  Before Rya could respond, a jolt of energy shot through her, and she jerked her head toward the top of the stairs, her mouth open and gaping as she watched a gorgeous male with fiery hair descend the steps two at a time.

  “Now, now, children.” Dressed in a silver tunic that showed off his muscular frame, Sion Jabari strolled toward them with a feral grin. “Play nice.”

  “You,” Rya spat, her shock morphing into a burning anger that seared her from the inside out. “You’re…you’re here.”

  “Where would I go, princess?” He circled her, leaning in closer to sniff at her. His gait seemed easy, casual, but when he spoke again, his tone bled with concern. “What happened to you?”

  “Stop that!” Rya batted his hand away when he reached toward her face. She felt crazed, out of control, and she couldn’t pinpoint the reason for her sudden anger—except that he looked like a god while she had spent their time apart wasting away. “You look well.”

  “What happened to you?” he asked again. “You look like shit.”

  His bluntness pushed her teetering mood over the edge, and she surprised everyone, including herself, when she let loose and slapped him right across the face. The crack of it echoed in the silence that followed, but of course, Sion didn’t even have the decency to pretend her slap had fazed him.

  She regretted her actions immediately, but she couldn’t seem to leash her whirling emotions. “You,” she snapped, answering his original question. “You happened to me.”

  “Me?” His brow furrowed, and he reached for her again. “What did I do?” Ignoring her when she swatted at his hand, he continued reaching for her. “Rya, talk to me. What’s going on? You look…unwell.”

  He looked genuinely confused, but Rya didn’t care. As her body had deteriorated, so had her powers, but with Sion’s sudden appearance, and fueled by her chaotic shifts in mood, her magic returned, slamming into her like a bolt of lightning.

  “Unwell?” Oh, he had some nerve. “Unwell? Let me tell you about not being well, you…you…nadirhon.”

  Sion blinked several times. “A what?”

  “Nadirhon,” Lorcan supplied. “It means coward, only worse. It’s a terrible insult.” He seemed quite pleased by it, too.

  Understanding dawned, and Sion turned toward her, his mouth open, clearly prepared to defend himself, but Rya didn’t give him the chance. Summoning every bit of her magic, she produced a sphere of blue flame in her right palm, narrowed her gaze, and hurled the fireball at the shifter.

  The ends of his hair singed, the smell awful in the confined space, and his pale tunic burst into flames. Sion yelled and growled, turning in a circle as he tried to extinguish the fire by beating himself senseless. While it did feel good to watch him experience even a fraction of the fear and uncertainty she’d had during their separation, she couldn’t allow him to truly be hurt.

  Ry was already preparing to douse the flames when Vasera Ivy Blackthorn rushed into the entrance hall, her face pale and her eyes wide.

  “Shit. Okay, okay, let me help you. Sion, stop moving,” she ordered. “Just hold on.” With a few muttered words, she produced a stream of water from her fingertips, soaking Sion with the spray. “Damn, that’s not what I meant to do, but at least you’re not on fire anymore.”

  Sion glared at her, his hair and what remained of his clothes dripping water into a puddle at his feet. “Thanks, Ivy,” he growled.

  “My lady.” Lorcan bowed his head before rushing to her side. “You shouldn’t be wandering the citadel unattended.”

  “But you’re here,” Ivy cooed as she patted his cheek affectionately. “See? I’m not unattended after all, am I?”

  Rya had only met the human female briefly on her last visit, but she liked the new Vasera, admired her strength and courage. They’d gotten along well, which was why Rya didn’t understand the stiff set of Ivy’s mouth when she turned toward her and Garrik.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Dressed in a pale-gold tunic with shimmering black swirls that showed off her growing belly, Ivy stood tall and proud, looking every bit the ruler she was. “Well?” she demanded. “Someone start talking.”

  Rya cleared her throat and stepped forward. “It was my doing, and I apologize.”

  Technically, Sion hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d asked for time, nothing more. As an outsider, he couldn’t have known how much that time would cost her, what it would do to her, but in that moment, logic didn’t stop her from blaming him. As her body had deteriorated, so had her mental faculties. It had started with bouts of forgetfulness and anxiety. T
hen had come the nightmares and wild mood swings. Now, seeing him again after weeks apart, she felt anything but stable.

  Ivy frowned, and her eyebrows drew together as she tilted her head to the side, studying Rya from the crown of her head to the toes of her woven sandals. “You look like hell. What the happened to you?”

  “As diplomatic as ever,” Lorcan mumbled, but ducked his head quickly when Ivy turned her icy stare on him.

  “That’s what I want to know.” Sion’s chest constricted, his heart beating violently up into his throat as he stepped forward, placing himself between the two Vaseras. “Rya, tell me what’s happening.”

  He’d caught her scent—the lovely, intoxicating fragrance of pure sunshine—as he’d been making his way to the kitchens after leaving Ivy with the king. He didn’t remember changing directions, or how he’d come to be standing at the top of the stairs in the entrance hall, but the moment he’d seen Rya, he couldn’t turn away. Everything about her called to him, lured him closer. Her scent beckoned him, her beauty enchanted him, and the musical quality of her voice hypnotized him.

  Then, once the dazedness had worn off, and he’d really looked at her, he’d nearly fallen to his knees. Her normally glossy hair hung limply around her face, the strands dull and brittle. Those pale pink eyes that had drawn him in during their first meeting were just as beautiful as he remembered, but now, they were ringed by dark, heavy circles.

  Her entire being seemed to be sunken, fragile…breakable.

  “You happened to her,” the male standing beside Rya answered frigidly, speaking for the first time since the confrontation began. “This is all your fault.”

  While they stood nearly equal in height, Sion guessed he had a good sixty pounds on the male. He didn’t know the guy, didn’t want to know him, but he didn’t appreciate how closely he stood to Rya, or how he pushed her behind him protectively. Sion might not subscribe to fate or a higher power to choose his mate for him, but he’d never hurt her.

  Never.

  “How the hell is this my fault?” He hadn’t even seen Rya in weeks, and their previous encounters hadn’t lacked in brevity. “What’s he saying, princess?”

  “Xenons can’t be without their soulmates,” Lorcan answered when it seemed no one else would, his tone and demeanor unusually subdued. “Whether you believe in such things or not, Sentry Jabari, it is a magical connection that can’t be broken. To severe such a bond will ultimately destroy the vessel.”

  The “vessel” in this case, being Rya.

  Sion still didn’t understand. If he had this so-called magical connection with the female, then it stood to reason that he’d be just as ill, just as frail as Rya. Physically, however, he felt fine. Well, other than the nervous energy he couldn’t seem to rid himself of, or the volatile mood swings.

  Even still, in the darkest depths of his heart, he believed the attendant. He knew without question he had caused Rya’s pain. Hell, from the looks of her, he’d almost killed her. The guilt clawed at him, pierced him like a dagger, and he spoke without thinking.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ivy screeched. “That’s all you have to say? Look at her, Si!” She jabbed a finger in Rya’s direction as her emerald green eyes sparked with unmitigated fury. “She’s your soulmate, and you never thought to tell me?”

  “It’s not really any of your—”

  “How could you let this happen?” Ivy’s tone reached octaves most humanoid races couldn’t hear as she punched him in the chest. “Fix this! Now!”

  Sion didn’t have a clue how to fix anything. Rya appeared just as pissed off as Ivy. Lorcan looked disappointed with him. The sentry he didn’t know was ready to go to battle. With all that animosity turned in his direction, Sion couldn’t think, couldn’t reason out what he should do next.

  “Rya, can we talk?” He held his hand out to her. “Somewhere private? Please?”

  “Stay away from my sister,” the guard snarled at him, stepping between him and Rya. “The only reason you’re still breathing is because of her connection to you.”

  “Look, asshole, I don’t know who you—” Sion cut off when the male drove a fist into his face, snapping his head back with enough force to make him stumble. Once he’d regained his bearings, he turned back to the group with a snarl. “Will everyone stop fucking hitting me!”

  The guard yelled and started toward him again, but stopped when Rya tugged on his arm. “Garrik, don’t. Please.”

  “He deserves to suffer,” Garrik answered, his gaze pinned on Sion.

  Rya had never seen her brother so furious, and worse, she didn’t know how to calm him. Chaotic and tumultuous, her own emotions didn’t lend to rational thinking. Part of her wanted Sion to hurt the way she’d hurt. Another part of her wanted to accept his offer to speak somewhere privately. She wanted to be with him, yet she wished she’d never met him.

  Confused and disoriented, she could do nothing more than place herself between the males and hope that would at least stop them from killing each other.

  “Enough!” a loud, masculine voice boomed through the entrance hall. Appearing from thin air at the bottom of the stairs, Vasili Kai Blackthorn marched toward their loosely formed circle, the hem of his midnight black tunic billowing behind him. “Does someone want to explain what’s happening here?”

  Everyone began talking at once, and at some point during the commotion, Garrik managed to clip Sion in the nose with a well-placed right hook. Rya winced when her mate’s head whipped to the side, splattering blood across his handsome face. On instinct, she took a step toward him, but stumbled to a stop when both Sion and Garrik disappeared from the room.

  “Kai.” Ivy sighed, scrubbing both hands over her face before meeting her mate’s gaze. “We talked about this. You can’t just transport people out of the room because they piss you off.”

  “Actually, I can.” Pulling Ivy to him, he rubbed her belly as he kissed her tenderly on the temple. “However, this time, it was a safety precaution, nothing more.”

  Watching them, Rya felt a pang of longing, a twinge of jealousy, and she had to turn away from the sight. Kai and Ivy were stunning together, and anyone could see how much they loved one another. Rya didn’t begrudge them their happiness. Quite the contrary, but it did throw into sharp relief what she herself lacked—a mate who wanted her. She’d give anything to have Sion look at her the way Kai looked at Ivy.

  “Understood,” Ivy agreed, “but you have to bring Sion back. They can’t be apart.”

  Pushing away her uncharitable thoughts, Rya turned back to face the couple. “Thank you, Vasera, but I’m well.” She didn’t know where the king had transported her brother or her mate, but she could feel Sion close by. “Garrik will be furious,” she added under her breath.

  “Let me deal with Garrik.” With his arm still around Ivy, Kai approached her, his expression full of what could only be described as pity. “I’m sorry this has happened to you, Rya.”

  “I didn’t know,” Ivy blurted, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I swear, if I knew you two were soulmates, I would have kicked his ass a long time ago. I was just trying to take care of my friend.” Turning her head into the crook of Kai’s neck, she began sobbing, her shoulders shaking with the force of her cries.

  “Oh, Vasera Blackthorn, please, it’s okay.” Rya panicked when Ivy’s wails increased in volume and strength, and she shuffled forward to touch the Vasera’s arm in comfort. “I understand. You were only being a good friend.”

  Kai patted his mate’s back while he shook his head at Rya. “It’s the baby,” he explained. “I’ve asked the medics on numerous occasions, but they assure me, it’s perfectly normal.”

  “Stupid hormones.” Ivy sniffled and lifted her head to wipe roughly at her eyes. Then she jabbed her index finger into Kai’s chest hard enough to make him wince. “This is your fault. Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this? Didn’t you think I’d maybe need to know that
I might die if we’re separated for too long?”

  Kai shrugged, entirely unaffected by her outburst. “Wherever you go, I will follow. It wasn’t an issue, and it won’t be in the future. I saw no reason to worry you.”

  “No reason to worry me? You’re joking, right?” The air around the human female crackled, and her eyes flashed with barely contained rage. After a long, tense pause, she plastered a clearly fabricated smile on her face and turned toward Rya. “Don’t worry, Vasera, we’re going to make this right.”

  Rya nodded silently, but on the inside, she wanted to scream. Truly, she appreciated everyone’s concern, but she didn’t need them trying to fix her problems, especially when it seemed Ivy and Kai had issues of their own to sort. What she needed was five uninterrupted minutes alone with her mate.

  “If you could, Kai, I’d like to—”

  “Vasili, I’m sorry, but they’re starting early.” Lorcan tapped the transponder attached to his ear and nodded several times at whatever was being said on the other end of the communication. “We must hurry, Vasili…Vaseras. The summit is beginning.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sion didn’t care if it was treason. He didn’t care if he’d die for the crime. As soon as he found Kai, he was going to murder the king.

  His stomach still rolled uncomfortably from the sudden dismissal, and his head ached at the base of his skull. Fuck, he truly hated transporting, and he hated it even more when he had no choice in the matter. Landing in the rainy courtyard just outside the heavy doors of the citadel had been the real icing on the cake.

  Water dripped from the ends of his hair, the icy droplets rolling down his back to the waistband of his tights. What remained of his singed tunic clung to him wetly, almost obscenely, and his sodden boots left muddy footprints in his wake as he jogged toward the great hall. He wondered idly if Garrik had received the same treatment, then decided it didn’t matter. If he was being honest with himself, his bad mood and rising temper had little to do with Rya’s brother or the Vasili.