Page 24

T he flight back to Ridge’s is excruciatingly silent.

The angelic woman had mounted a Phoenix with vibrant yellow and amber feathers and flown off before we had even made it to our birds.

Not before she sneered at me and noted that she knows where Ridge’s home is.

Of course she fucking does.

On the final approach to Ridge’s estate, I push Artemis to fly closer to Orion. “You’re going to have to open up about this eventually. How is it that you and I can communicate without words?”

His jaw ticks, Orion tosses his head at Ridge’s tension. “Loose threads. It’s true that she and I can communicate the same way we do.”

I’d hoped I was special, honestly.

“Treia didn’t explain it fully,” he continues, one look at whatever lies in my face has him flinching. “I can’t communicate back and forth with Laz and the others. I can share commands, but it's one way. They can’t speak back to me through it like you can. A tether is required for us to be able to communicate. Whereas my ability to give commands to others is part of my power of manipulation.”

“Treia.” I let the name roll off my tongue. It feels like sandpaper.

Running a hand through that thick hair of his, he watches the flight path in front of us, in lieu of meeting my stare.

“Not all Fae have them, but it’s possible to have loose threads,” he continues, still finding something off in the distance interesting, apparently. “They are holding places for tethers that are not set. The tie you share with Artemis is a fixed tether. The tether is fully present; no one can sever it.”

I process the information, fidgeting on Artemis’s back. Ridge’s estate is coming to view, dark and imposing at the water’s edge. The grass dances from the wind off the birds’ mighty wings as we descend. “What does it mean that you and I have a loose thread?”

Artemis and Orion land with grace in the field, standing uncharacteristically close to one another so Ridge and I can continue our conversation.

“That we’re compatible,” Ridge states, stroking Orion’s neck, who dances on his feet as if nervous. I think he’s done sharing, but he quickly presses on before I can prod. “We could be tethered if we both accept the tie.”

I stamp out the wave of happiness bubbling in my chest. “Then why do you have a loose thread with Treia?”

Artemis shakes her head, dancing foot to foot uncomfortably.

“Because we are also compatible.” He exhales forcibly, displeasure evident on his face. “Our gods are gods of fertility and choices. They give us options. It’s at our discretion to actually secure the tether. Tethering to another Fae is considered a gift from the gods, since not everyone will have a loose thread to act on. It can make the male incredibly…territorial. Likely, what you felt with Lamond was a loose thread, too.”

Jealousy is coursing through my bloodstream at a rate that makes my head whirl. What I felt for Lamond was a footnote compared to the burning and all-consuming desire I have for Ridge.

“So, there could be many loose threads, and it’s anyone’s guess how many there could be?”

He offers a nod, jaw set. “You don’t know it exists until you meet the other person.”

That feels like a cruel element thrown in by the gods. “You have a history with Treia, then?”

His lips press into a hard line. “Before I met you, Aledrya. ”

My heart sinks, that jealousy somehow morphing into something uglier. It’s coating my senses like a tacky oil.

I want to scream, but you’re mine!

Instead, I ask, “Just because you act on a loose thread, doesn’t mean you’re tethered?”

“No, you cannot sever a tether once it is in place and accepted. Nothing can separate two tethered individuals.” He scans my face, his still etched in worry. “But we were once involved. Not in anything that I’m interested in repeating. However, I do understand if you would like to…explore your own options.”

I pause at his words. I had not considered that there might be others. “I need to process this,” I tell him, clearing my throat so my voice doesn’t give away my emotion. “We haven’t even scratched the surface on your secrets, King .”

Slinging my leg over Artemis’s back, I try to ignore the way he’d winced at my words.

Artemis cocks her head to the side, nudging her beak at my side. Are you all right?

I idly stroke her shoulder area. No.

She takes up a defensive stance, arching her head at me. He told you exactly what you were seeking.

I can’t help my sardonic snort. He still hid things from me.

Is that really why you’re angry? Or is it out of jealousy? He cannot control the whims of gods, she questions, yellow eyes sharp as she waits for my response.

I clench my hands into fists, driving my nails into my palms. I’m angry about all of it. He could have mentioned his title.

Ridge is dismounting and looking at something on Orion, so I turn back to Artemis as she replies. It would have been difficult to not treat him differently if you’d known, she reasons, nudging my arm with her beak. I don’t agree with his methods, but I do understand his motivations.

My throat is dry as I attempt to swallow. Did you know ?

It’s not my place to get involved, Artemis replies smoothly. The only reason I knew who Ridge truly is, was because of Orion. You will notice that the others did not know the truth, either. Save for Lamond, Laz, and Nalin.

I knew that to be true. Deah had mentioned on my first day here that she wasn’t sure what Ridge’s title was.

She tosses her head in the direction Orion is now walking off to. Orion and I will be in the Keep Ridge has behind the estate. Talk to him.

I let my fingers lightly brush her neck as she passes. My stomach drops as Ridge approaches me with hesitant strides. Each step seems more and more reluctant, as if fearful he’ll encounter a snare.

“Why is your title a secret to so many?” The voice that leaves me feels detached, like it doesn’t belong to me.

He knits his brows together, stopping a few feet away. His arms hang loosely at his sides, flexing his hands in and out of fists. “I don’t care for how people treat me once they know what I am.” Lines form on his brow, his eyes growing wary.

“How could you possibly keep this kind of thing a secret? Who do the Fae think their king is?” I question, trying to grasp how any of this could be true.

Ridge shrugs, sliding a hand into his pocket. “When you live in peace for decades, there isn’t truly a need for the king to be visible. The information is there in all the history books, but there’s not a reason for anyone to go looking. Most don’t care enough to do so, since there is no unrest. Each one of the provinces has their own court, so aside from the lords and ladies who hold positions, I keep out of the public eye.”

“But others must know— Treia knows. Rathian must know,” I counter defensively.

“Yes, the Human King knows, as his family knew mine.” A look of frustration crosses Ridge’s face, but he quickly softens his gaze. “Treia’s father is the Lord of Fradell,” he says, naming the province to the northeast of Xecelsion. “That is the only reason she knows. She isn’t special to me like she portrays herself to be. ”

“Apparently, neither am I,” I return quietly.

Ridge closes the distance between us, his eyes flaring with heat. “Never say that.” He swallows, breathing deeply before continuing. “What I feel for you is so much more than what I ever felt for Treia. What I’ve felt for anyone .”

Heavy silence falls between us as I stare back at him. I hear his words, but my response is stuck in my throat.

“I warned you before that I was not worthy of you,” Ridge says in a low voice. “I wish I could say this is the last of my secrets, but it’s not.” His hand comes up, cupping my cheek gently. “I want to share all those secrets with you, Aledrya. Let me prove that—show you that I want to be worthy of you.”

Fireworks are exploding under my skin, ripping and gnashing against me to escape. “I need a minute. Alone.”

“Take however long you need.” He looks past me, towards the estate, exhaustion lacing his features. “I have to go inside. To deal with all this shit.” He retreats a step, dropping his hold on me. “I meant what I said. I’m not letting you go. So before you come into this estate, decide what I have to do to make this right. I’m not above groveling; but only for you.”

He starts back up the pathway, large, determined strides taking him to the threshold of the estate.

When he steps through the door of the estate, emotion crashes over me. My hands tremble, the birds floating overhead scatter in all directions, as if sensing what’s coming.

My power fractures, rumbling through my veins to emerge in the form of an ember inferno at my fingertips. The strain of keeping it leashed in the aftermath of my heightened emotions is unbearable.

The only company I have is the flame at my fingers. I let it blaze, the fire feeling like an old friend. Pulling my hands together, I push the power through my fingers and will it to build into a ball in front of my face.

Once I’m satisfied with the massive size of the burning ember ball, I square my shoulders and look toward the Tridonic Sea, past Ridge’s sprawling fortress. I draw back and launch it as hard as my body allows toward the deep blue water .

The steam that ripples off the water as the fireball dissipates brings me a strange solace. Heavy, rolling vapor carries the brunt of my outrage with it. Power still pulsates through my blood, but it brings me a brief reprieve to remind myself what I’m capable of.

Rolling my shoulders, I force my feet to move down the walkway, feeling raw and exposed in more ways than one.

Opening the door Ridge went through, I follow the cacophony of voices from the back of the house. Through the din, I pick up on Laz’s rolling timbre.

“They’ve depleted our numbers. They breached our defenses.” Laz’s normally calming voice is filled with urgency; hoarse and panicked.

I cross the hall where the voices are coming from. The positive side of the marble flooring throughout the estate is how well voices carry. Peeking into a room in passing, I see it’s an unoccupied guest room. I can hear a soft tapping, like fingers drumming in thought. I must be getting closer to wherever they are.

“I told you we are pledging our forces.” That feline purring voice definitely belongs to Treia. I hate myself for loathing her. “I apologize they do not bear your beloved Ravels insignia, but I assure you they are well trained, regardless.”

I hesitate in the hall, fairly certain this next door is where they are gathered. I hear Ridge’s deep exhale. “You are quite ignorant to speak ill of the institution that has kept our realm safe for generations.”

Grimacing at my timing of arrival, I force myself to round the corner and cross the threshold of the open wooden door.

I’m stunned to find Ridge sitting at an ornate desk, looking like he belongs there. The wood reminds me of the Ravels’s library, polished and gleaming. It’s decorated with gold figurines tarnished with age, golden paperweights glittering in the natural light. I’m equally flabbergasted to see the hordes of paperwork stacked beneath said paperweights.

Keeping the theme with the rest of the estate, this room has a gothic feel. There are dark, floor to ceiling wooden bookshelves behind Ridge’s desk, housing more books than I could ever dream of reading. The thick velvet curtains are a rich green color, and they sway in the breeze from the open window .

I break my gaze from the tantalizing rows of books behind Ridge, to look at the group gathered. Lamond, Nalin, and Laz are scattered around the room. Laz, standing near the desk, leaned over to Ridge, who sits in a massive leather chair. Lamond, taking up residence in one of the deep leather chairs in the corner. And Nalin, who halted his pacing in front of the desk when I had arrived.

Treia’s perched on the edge of Ridge’s desk, and I suppress the burning urge to ignite my flames and end her. I can see now I had severely underestimated her beauty in the dull lighting of the Ravels. She possesses an otherworldly beauty that men likely dream of. Her sleek hair, now free from its braid, cascades down her back, ending just above her hips. Her full, red lips twist upward, watching me, and I know beneath them are gleamingly, white teeth. Her green eyes are so striking compared to her dark hair. I hate that at one point she had Ridge. But I mostly loathe myself for the animosity I feel for her.

She hasn’t taken her eyes off me, watching me like a cat stalking a mouse.

Treia crosses her slender legs and rolls her shoulders back. Her eyes scan me as if sizing me up. I say nothing, but silently mark her every move.

“Aledrya.” Lamond stands from the chair he’d been lounging in, daring a step toward me. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s with me,” Ridge says, one of his hands forming a fist on the desk. He gives Lamond a look that promises death should he dispute. “Aledrya, come join us.”

I square my shoulders and aim for the open chair in the corner. Sinking into it, I finally allow myself to make eye contact with Ridge. Hurt remains there; for a brief moment, I think he might say something. Instead, he drags his gaze from me, nodding toward Laz.

“Right,” Laz starts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sentries will recover what they can from the Ravels, and check for survivors. We’ll place one encampment in the Pass for the time being. Ridge, we’ll need you to assess if it’s possible to rebuild our Blocks before we move the legions back in. Until then, they remain hidden. Treia and Aledrya—”

“Where are the others?” I interrupt Laz, standing from my chair abruptly. “Deah, Lotog…?”

Laz looks to Ridge for confirmation, who snarls. “Tell her.”

Laz blanches at the harsh tone but recovers quickly, looking at me. “They are all safe. We evacuated as many as we could to Zindell, but we did lose close to fifty Novices. Deah, Lotog, Emmy, and Ingrid all made it out. I personally confirmed as much. We’ve made provisions to bring them back here; the others will camp in the Valley to be closer to the Caves, for the time being.”

Fifty souls lost is a direct blow to my gut. Would I have made it if I hadn’t come here with Ridge? If they’re looking for me specifically, am I placing all of them in danger by being here?

I can feel Ridge’s eyes on me, feel the heat lingering from last night. My barriers slide up, forcing him out. I lean back into the chair, slinging one leg over the other. Ridge’s gaze feels like a brand, dipping toward my legs, crossed and stretched out in front of me.

“As I was saying…” Laz clears his throat, and Ridge slowly drags his attention back toward the blonde-haired warrior. “Treia and Aledrya will stay here and review the map.”

I scrunch my brow, looking at the others. “The map of what?”

“Of the filthy city of Torrent. It’s where you’re from, no?” Treia glares at me, voice dripping with disdain as she waits for her words to find their mark.

They don’t though, because my mind is too busy spiraling on where my friends are and what has happened to the place I’d grown to love so quickly.

Ridge shoots a glare in her direction, and she shrugs as if it’s an honest mistake. I offer her a reserved smile. “Hurl insults all you want, Treia. You’re still going to be stuck here looking at maps with me.”

Ridge’s eyes flick to mine momentarily, but he doesn’t let them linger. I try not to feel disappointed.

Nalin and Lamond make their way toward the door, strapping daggers onto their thighs and ensuring their swords are sheathed properly. Laz leans in, whispering something to Ridge before following the others out .

Treia remains, leaning against the desk with her arms folded over her chest defensively. By doing so, she’s accentuating her already full chest.

“Treia,” Ridge drawls, standing. I cringe at the sound of her name on his lips. “If you’ll give us a moment.”

She looks like she might protest but thinks better of it. She throws me a withering look as she stomps out the door where the others are waiting. I don’t miss the way the others look her up and down as she turns to close the door.

The lock clicks, and Ridge looks at me but remains on the other side of the desk. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.” His timbre low and gravelly, placing his hands on the desk.

I bite my cheek, trying to decide which path to take. My hands tremble as I flick away the invisible dirt on my pants. “I was told there would be groveling.” I keep my tone light, angling my head.

He moves slowly from around the desk. “Do you want that, Aledrya?” he purrs, moving closer still. “Tell me, do you prefer me on my knees when I beg for you to not write me off yet?”

My blood heats. “I need to know this is more than something for you to conquer and be done with.”

Ridge drops to a knee before me, placing his hands on the arms of the chair. I hate to admit that I do quite enjoy him like this. “We both know you’re no conquest.” My pulse spikes, and I repress the urge to kiss him right then and there. “Winning your heart means more than an afterlife in the Above. You are the destination, not a stopping point.”

My heart has creeped up my throat, making me dizzy. “Then tell me something else about you,” I ask quietly.

“I have four loose threads.” His admission rattles me, but I take a steadying breath as he continues. “The only two I’ve ever acted on were you and Treia. I have no interest in the others—you are all I need.”

I think he might be done, but he continues. “My family is gone, as you can probably tell. They were killed many years ago, and the ones that weren’t are all but dead to me anyhow.” His voice lowers, and I draw in a sharp breath. “ You have felt more like home than any place I’ve ever been, or any person I’ve encountered. I was wrong for not telling you, and I’m wrong for being possessive of you.” He leans forward a bit more. “I can’t help it though—now that I’ve found you; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

I open my mouth to speak, but there’s a knock at the door. “We need to go, Ridge.” Nalin’s voice is muffled by the heavy wooden door.

Ridge keeps his eyes focused on me, bringing a hand up to brush a loose strand of hair from my face. “I know more than most how important trust is. Trust is earned, and I’ve broken yours. While I have my reasons for keeping secrets, none of those reasons are more important than you.”

There’s another knock at the door.

I nod towards the doorway. “You need to go,” I say, still fighting the intense desire to sink my fingers into his hair.

“The moment Laz retrieves the others, he’ll bring them here.”

“Can I stay here as well?” I hold my breath; nerves washing over me, so I quickly add, “In my own room.”

Ridge stands, and my body grows cold. “If that’s what you would like. I can tell Seeona to make up the room for you.” The knock comes again, this time louder. “Please review the map. Anything you notice that looks amiss would be useful.”

He pauses, eyes dipping to my lips. I hold my breath. For a fleeting moment, I think he may kiss me. Instead, he turns and strides out the door.