Page 28

“Already bored of Renya and looking for your old lover?” Selenia quipped, unable to resist one last jab.

“Selenia!” Grayden's patience was wearing thin.

She held up her hands in surrender. “Last I saw, he was heading to Almory's workshop. Though for someone who just found their fated mate—and it happens to be the girl you were already mooning over—you're surprisingly grumpy.”

Ignoring her, Grayden made his way towards the back staircase. The fact that Tumwalt was in Almory's workshop puzzled him. With the rest of the prophecy revealed by Renya's aunt, what could they be working on? He hoped they had made progress on combating the dragons, though the thought of Renya anywhere near such creatures made his stomach churn.

Reaching the workshop door, Grayden knocked perfunctorily before entering without waiting for a response. The scene that greeted him was familiar—Tumwalt and Almory hunched over a massive, dusty tome—but the atmosphere was charged with tension.

Almory's eyes, calm as ever, met Grayden's with a hint of concern. Tumwalt's, in stark contrast, flashed with barely contained anger.

“So, you've decided to return,” Tumwalt said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he folded his arms across his chest.

Grayden's confusion at Tumwalt's hostility quickly gave way to irritation. “Of course I came back. Why wouldn't I?”

“Perhaps because you've now abandoned your people and your lands twice to chase after a girl?” Tumwalt's words were sharp, cutting.

“Tumwalt,” Almory cautioned, “let's hear him out.”

“I am not a child to be scolded,” Grayden growled, already regretting his decision to leave Renya's side.

“Then stop acting like a spoiled child,” Tumwalt shot back. “You don't have the luxury of abandoning your kingdom for a woman.”

As Almory tried to intervene, Grayden's gaze swept the room, landing on something that made his blood run cold. There, on Almory's desk, sat a hairbrush with an aspen handle. Strands of golden hair—Renya's hair—were caught in its bristles.

Fury unlike anything Grayden had ever known surged through him. “What is the meaning of this?” he thundered, every muscle in his body coiled tight. “Why do you have her hairbrush?”

Almory looked guilty, but it was Tumwalt who answered, his voice hard. “We had to do something. It was obvious that girl bewitched you somehow. I tasked Almory with tracking down whatever magic she used.”

“That girl is my mate!” Grayden roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

The silence that followed was deafening. Almory's face lit up with sudden understanding, while Tumwalt stood slack-jawed, his face flushing crimson.

Grayden strode forward, snatching the brush from the desk. “How dare you accuse Renya of bewitching me,” he snarled, turning to leave.

Tumwalt's voice, now hesitant, stopped him at the door. “My lord, I...I'm sorry. It wasn't like you to abandon your duties for some human girl—”

“Her name is Renya,” Grayden cut him off, his voice dangerously low. “And she will be your queen. I suggest you start addressing her with the respect she deserves.”

As Tumwalt gaped at him, Grayden continued, his anger giving way to a cold, regal authority. “For the record, not that I owe you an explanation, Renya is the light bringer. She possesses her full magic now. We need her to defeat the Shadow Queen.”

He watched as the implications of his words sank in, Tumwalt's eyes widening in shock.

“Moreover, she's a descendant of the Sun Realm. A princess in her own right. And she's fae, not human. How else could we be bound?” Grayden's voice softened slightly, a note of wonder creeping in as he spoke of their bond. “But even if she were human, I would demand she be treated with the same respect you show me. Although at this moment, your respect and allegiance are very much in question.”

With that, Grayden turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder as he left, “I'm returning to my mate. Do not disturb us under any circumstances. I don't wish to see you for the rest of the day.”

As he stormed back up the stairs, his mind reeling from the confrontation, Selenia intercepted him once more.

“What happened down there?” she demanded, her face tense with concern.

Grayden recounted the encounter, his anger flaring anew as he spoke. When he finished, Selenia shook her head in disbelief.

“Well, he knows she's your mate now. I'm pretty sure the whole lodge heard that particular declaration.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “No need for formal announcements, I'd wager.”

Despite his lingering frustration, Grayden felt a smile tugging at his lips. “What am I going to do about him, Selenia?”

His sister's expression softened. “It's hard for him, I'm sure. He was always close with Father. But Grayden,” she continued, her voice uncharacteristically serious, “you aren't Father, and that's not a bad thing. Even if I don't say it often because I think you're dreadfully dull and take yourself far too seriously...you are a good ruler.”