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Maxar’s head bobbed thoughtfully, and a flush of color filled his cheeks. Hefelt the way I felt. Jealous of Zandren and Omaera’s bond. Envious of their connection and how truly enmeshed they were. Him being with her right now was no doubt healing her in ways that Maxar and I couldn’t, because she hadn’t mate-bonded with us yet.

“You ever have a mate?” Maxar asked Kenvin, tipping his gaze up to the old demon.

Kenvin swallowed what was in his mouth and nodded. “Estrid. A demon. We lived in Poland during the mid-1700s. Unfortunately, she was tried as a witch.”

I swallowed and stared at him, as did Maxar.

“The man at the helm of her persecution was a demon himself. A hateful man named Hellio. He had her beheaded because he knew burning her wouldn’t work.” Kenvin took a deep breath, working his jaw back and forth a few times.

We waited patiently.

No matter how much time passed, I’m sure it never got easier speaking about the death of a mate. I hoped to never experience such a thing. Eventually, he spoke again. “He hated me because I had human friends. I didn’t care if you were human, demon, mage, vampire, or shifter, so long as you were agoodperson. Akindperson. There was so much unnecessary war and hate in the world. Why hate someone simply because ofwhatthey were? Estrid taught me that. She was kind to everyone. She gave starving people bread, cold people blankets, and sick people compassion and care. But Hellio thought she shouldn’t be wasting her time or energy on humans. He told her to stop or suffer the consequences. I went to him, threatened him myself if he didn’t leave Estrid alone. So he gathered an army of demons one night. They overpowered me and took Estrid. He tried her in the town square as a witch and she was beheaded the next day.”

My mouth hung open. So did Maxar’s.

“Oh my god,” came a soft, breathy voice from the bedroom. Omaera stood in the doorway to the room she shared with Zandren. The big bear was behind her like an angry shadow, glaring at me. Then she rushed across the courtyard and wrapped her arms around Kenvin from behind, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, burying her face in his neck. “So sorry.”

The old demon didn’t know how to react. It was like it’d been over twohundred years since he’d been hugged. His blue eyes went wide, and his mouth hung open.

But she just kept hugging him.

Eventually, he softened a little and patted her hand. “It’s all right. Enough of this.” His words came out choked and gritty like he was attempting to steel long trapped, dust-covered emotions that wanted desperately to break through.

I knew what that was like.

Omaera gave him a final squeeze, followed by a kiss on the cheek that made the old demon blush, and stood up again, wiping tears from her eyes.

Kenvin cleared his throat and refused to make eye contact with any of us. How long had it been since he told anybody about his mate? Did they have any children?

“How are you feeling, My Queen?” Maxar asked changing the subject, which I’m sure our host appreciated.

“Better,” she said, blinking away the last of her unshed tears. “I was just drained.”

Zandren growled and glared at me as he stalked over to the grill.

She swatted his back. “Not of blood. Just mentally and emotionally.” Her gaze softened when it landed on me. “Maybe the blood loss didn’t help, but I’m fine now. Honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured.

Her smile eased the ache in my chest. “It’s okay. Are you feeling better?”

Nodding, I glanced down at my plate. “I am, thank you.”

“That’s all that matters.”

Zandren came over and handed her a plate. “Here, Little One. You need to eat.” He glanced at me again and growled, baring his teeth this time.

“Ignore him,” she said to me, accepting the plate and thanking the bear.

Zandren returned to the grill to load himself up a plate.

“What is this?” Omaera asked, taking the seat I offered her.

“Magsith,” Kenvin replied. “Magsith and night leeks.”

“Make sure you add the sauce,” Maxar said, standing up to go back for seconds. I didn’t like it enough to put myself through that again. “But don’task what it’s made of.”

With momentary terror in her eyes, Omaera squirted some of the brown sauce onto her plate. She speared a leek with her fork. “So, what’d I miss?”