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She stalked out of the room and past her own guest chambers. There was no way she could sleep right now. Not after all the things he’d just filled her head with. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on reading either. She would love to go into a sparring ring, but Rayner wouldn’t spar with her. That would require leaving Tula alone. And they weren’t at home, so it wasn’t as if she could find an off-duty warrior to spar with either.

Which left sword meditation. She hadn’t done it since Nakoa had died, mainly because he had been the one to teach it to her. A series of precise movements with a sword, specific body positions held for an extended period of time, and a concentration on breathing, the practice demanded all of her attention. It left no room for her focus to stray or she would lose her balance, which wasn’t ideal while holding a sword.

Nakoa had taken over her training when she’d surpassed all those in the Fire Court armies. Most of the soldiers in Sorin’s armies had come to accept her as one of their own. She’d more than earned their respect, but there were a few—some top commanders—who were still passive aggressive with her to this day. More than once, she’d had to put them in their place. The first few times, Sorin had been pissed, and she’d had to stop him from going down there himself. Cyrus had been the one to finally convince him she needed to handle it herself. That they would never truly respect her if Sorin stepped in and did this for her. But that had always been Sorin’s nature. Fiercely protective of his people, and overprotective of his family. Just like Scarlett. They were the perfect rulers for the Fire Court. Not her.

Eliza crossed a stone patio, nodding at the small lynx that sat up at her approach. The shifter’s luminous eyes watched her, but it made no movement of acknowledgement. She was sure there was an avian shifter flying around as well that would report her movements to Stellan.

She walked until she was at least half a mile out into the desert before she slipped her socks off. The sand was freezing beneath her bare feet, and she tossed some flames to the side, creating a good-sized fire that radiated with heat. She pulled her spirit sword from another burst of flames and planted her feet, inhaling deeply. The cool, night air filled her lungs, the stars looking on from above. She tightened her grip on her sword, and her eyes fell closed as she slid one foot out and raised her arms, controlling her exhale, forcing everything from her mind but her movement and her breathing.

She didn’t know how long she had been going through the various poses when she felt him land softly. Irritation prickled at the same time her flames flickered under her skin, reaching for him. She opened her eyes just in time to see his wings disappear. He was shirtless—because of course he was—but his pupils were still vertical, irises glowing faintly.

“I can see better in the dark when my eyes are shifted,” he said by way of explanation. She didn’t need to ask how he knew what she’d been thinking. She already knew. This damn bond was trying to settle into place.

“By the gods,” she gritted out, any semblance of calm she’d found obliterated when he’d literally dropped out of the godsdamn sky. “Can I not have one night of peace?”

“Your night hasn’t been peaceful since Ashtine returned,” he replied. Then she heard him grumble under his breath, “And mine haven’t been peaceful since you stepped foot in Avonleya.”

“You are the one who seeks me out,” she shot at him.

“I am well aware, Eliza.”

“Then stop.”

“I can only ignore the sudden intensity of your emotions for so long.”

“You can…feel that already?”

He gave a sharp nod. “The male usually feels the bond stronger in the beginning. It’s a primal protectiveness.”

“Great,” she muttered, resuming her movements. She went through another few stances before he spoke again.

“Do you want to spar?”

“No,” she bit out.

“Do you want to talk about what caused the spike in your emotions?”

“No.” She began to move into her next position.

“Do you want to fuck?”

She tripped on her own feet, her foot landing in the wrong position in the sand, and she flung her arm out to keep her balance. Her eyes flew to Razik. He was staring back at her, arms crossed, that unimpressed look he gave everyone else on his face. The flickering flames of her fire cast shadows that danced across his features, and she saw his lips twitch the smallest amount.

“I want you to fuck off,” she spat.

She heard his low laugh as she spun away from him, starting her routine over from the beginning. Refusing to look at him, she began going through all her stances again. She fell into the lull of the movements, and it was nearly an hour later when she finished. A faint sheen of sweat coated her skin, but she felt calmer. More settled. But more importantly, she was so exhausted, she should be able to fall asleep without her endless thoughts keeping her awake. She hoped that would be the case anyway, because she could still hear Rayner’s words rattling around in the back of her mind, screaming for attention.

There is a very good chance you will need to challenge for the Fire Court throne.

No. That was exactly the life her “father” had wanted for her. Marry her off to the Earth Prince, rule a Court at his side. She had worked too hard at becoming the exact opposite to have to do that.

Turning to trudge back to the palace, she paused mid-step when she found Razik sitting next to the fire. His knee was bent, arm resting atop it while he leaned back on his other hand. Had he sat here this entire time?

“What are you doing?” she asked dryly, her sword hanging loosely at her side.

“Thinking about my cave at home.”

She blinked, unsure of what to say to that. “Are you…talking about your study?”