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“ W e are fighting two enemies here. We have Arwin’s goons, who have infiltrated every city near the castle, and then there are these savages that just want to see your head roll.” Isen leaned over the large table and pointed at a large map before him. They had established a meeting point in Cressida where they had been staying in the town’s small inn. They were safe there, at least for the time being. “We have already taken over the cities around Umbriel.”

“We still have Vulcanians coming in and out as they please,” Valda muttered, as she looked at the map. “They must have sent hundreds, if not thousands, of them through Harmonia’s shores.” Valda tilted her head as she touched the Sea Kingdom. “Maybe even used the Agenor’s Islands to make way over here.”

“We don’t know that yet. What we know is that the desert is immense, and they are making good use of it. I can’t believe they’ve moved about so easily—”

“Isen, their kingdom is full of active volcanoes. They are used to smoldering heat. Our desert is a rainforest compared to the Vulcan Kingdom. Good thing is that they are getting lost. We get them, take their weapons, and use them to our advantage.”

“If only we knew where the rest of them were, so we can take all of it…” Isen pouted. “We must come up with something. Yes, our army is getting larger, but as it does, we grow vulnerable. How can we know these men and women are not here just to gather information?”

“If they were, we would be dead by now, Isen. ”

The Sealian man sighed while Valda sat down. She had been training all day long, she was agitated and didn’t have the patience to hear Isen tell her what was wrong. She knew what was wrong. Of course, she was terrified of being double-crossed. She feared waking up to find Arwin staring down at her with his stupid, arrogant smile. She was petrified to learn there had been an attack on New Agenor, yet all she could do was wait, build her army and be ready to battle.

It had been four months, and although her nausea had subsided after her encounter with Maris, she still couldn’t reach her whenever she wanted to. It was easy to slip into a dream state. Some nights, she was too preoccupied with what was happening, she couldn’t dream. She was too tired to do so. Other nights, she found her sitting by the bed and waiting for her.

Their encounters were brief yet passionate, filled with longing. It broke Valda’s heart every time she woke up to find it wasn’t real. It was as if she was being snatched from her lover’s arms all over again. Fear of abandonment raced through her, slicing the wound open again.

“I’ll await your orders then,” Isen said, hooking his hands in front of him. “What is the next step?”

“Send out two troops to the Sea Kingdom. I want them to stand guard through Agenor’s Islands, especially the western islands facing Harmonia. Vulcanians must be using that as a bridge to get here.”

“We are sending watchdogs to the Sea Kingdom?”

“They know that place is empty. Only a handful of Skylians and Sealians are there. There won’t be any trouble. Send the troops with water, food, weapons, and our blessings. We will continue combing Umbriel from here.”

Isen nodded. “Done.”

Valda let out a tired sigh, then raised her gaze to Isen. He stood unmoving, looking at her expectantly. “Yes?” she asked, her tone sharper than intended.

“How are you?” His nonchalant question would’ve sat well with Valda, if it wasn’t condescending.

Valda scoffed. “I am fine.”

“You keep saying that, but you almost killed another trainee during sparring,” Isen said, shaking his head.

“He was weak,” she snapped, her jaw tightening.

“He is young,” Isen corrected .

“He needs to get stronger,” she shot right back.

“Valda…” Isen exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Arwin’s men are stronger, more capable. If I’d killed that boy, it would’ve been a favor to us.”

“We don’t kill our own.”

“Yeah, tell that to your general,” Valda muttered as she stood, brushing past him. “Send people to Agenor’s Islands. Make sure there are no Vulcanians there. Kill anyone who tries to stand between us and shut down their entryway.” Valda turned to her room before Isen called out to her.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to rest,” she lied.

“Are you still trying to get in touch with her?”

Valda sighed and scratched her neck in annoyance. “Always.”

Isen placed his hands on his hips. “Have a good night, Valda.”

Valda nodded and left Isen’s room, heading to her own. It wasn’t a big room, but enough for her to be comfortable for the time being. As she sat on the bed, the wood creaking at her weight, Cerberus jumped from under the bed, patting one paw against Valda’s thigh.

A soft chuckle escaped Valda as she scratched under Cerberus’s jaw. The animal leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut as a loud purr vibrated in the quiet room.

“You could’ve left with Maris,” Valda said, scratching behind Cerberus’s ear. “You’d be spoiled rotten by now.”

Cerberus’ purrs grew louder, and she leaned her head lower until she flopped onto her side. Valda’s caresses then moved to her soft stomach. “You wouldn’t abandon me, would you, Cerberus?”

Shaking her head, Cerberus twisted her body until her stomach was completely exposed and her paws stretched out over her head. Valda laughed and lay on the bed with Cerberus.

Her muscles ached as her days were filled with training sessions. For the past four months, she hadn’t stopped training. Although she was still recuperating, her body was getting stronger than before she was blind. Getting civilians to join her was draining both mentally and physically. It was hard to trust people, scared that one of them would turn their backs on her and run to Arwin. She was sure Arwin had a bounty not only for her but also for Isen, Maris and Melvian .

Local blacksmiths and artisans slowly but surely made more weapons for her. Thanks to Lasmeer, her network of spies had helped her stay away from Arwin and Eris’s way long enough to stay alive. She was thankful for all their help, but she couldn’t wait for the right moment to hit Arwin back with all the power she had been recuperating. Tonight, however, her body called for rest.

Valda hated nights like these. When exhaustion weighed too heavily on her, the likelihood of dreaming faded. And she wanted to dream—desperately. If dreaming meant seeing Maris, she would embrace sleep every single night. Valda prayed she would dream tonight. It had been too many nights since she last saw Maris, and her earlier conversation with Isen had left her uneasy. Perhaps seeing Maris’s smile would make the night bearable.

Sighing tiredly, Valda pulled Cerberus closer to her. The warm furry body snuggled against her. The cat nestled into the nook under Valda’s chin and purred loudly.

Her imagination ran wild, fueled by the anxiety. She relived her last training session, her conversations with her men and Isen. She couldn’t focus on something that would allow her mind to rest. Until the image of Maris appeared in her mind.

The echoing sound of voices around Valda dimmed, muffled by the sudden gust of cold air wafting through the chamber.

Maris’s lower lip shivered. She took one large gulp from her glass and walked back inside, not before closing the balcony doors. She put the glass on one of the night tables and rubbed her arms, the royal sleeping garments with Skylian colors contrasted beautifully with her darker skin and blue hair.

The Sealian stepped into the living space, stood in the center of the room, and suddenly froze. Maris frowned, her gaze lingering over the walls and decorations across the space as if she were lost.

Valda couldn’t tear her eyes off her.

She looked down at herself, wondering if the clothing she was wearing was good enough to bask in Maris’s presence. But instead of armor, or the dirty, blood-stained clothes she had grown used to, she found herself clad in clean linen pants and a soft cotton blouse. Her boots were gone.

She was barefoot—and warm.

The room glowed, illuminated with candles, making it look bigger and shinier than she remembered .

Her eyes settled back on Maris, and her breath caught in her throat. Maris was looking at Valda, her blue eyes wide with surprise, as though she hadn’t expected to see her standing there in the living quarters.

Valda’s hand moved to her chest, as she felt the pull of their bond. Maris wanted her—Valda could feel it—but something was holding her back, stopping her from saying it aloud.

Valda frowned. That wouldn’t do.

She was tired of Maris denying her need, not just to Valda but to herself.

“G-good evening, Your Highness,” Maris said, her voice shaky as if testing whether she could speak.

Back to formal titles? Or was she being playful?

“Good evening, Seashell,” Valda said, and her breath faltered when Maris walked towards her. The Skylian robes suited her perfectly. They concealed just enough to leave Valda longing to see more, yet revealed enough to satiate the raging hunger she felt for her mate.

“What are you doing here?” Maris asked, her frown deepening the closer she got to Valda.

“I… I live here?” Valda answered, tilting her head slightly, amused at the question.

Maris blinked, her gaze shifting around the room as if taking it in for the first time before settling back on Valda. “Right. You do live in Oberon Castle…” she muttered, her hands fidgeting nervously. “When did we come back?”

Valda straightened her back, glancing around the room. “I’m not sure…”

Her gaze roamed the chamber. It looked just as they had left it when they departed for New Agenor. There was no trace of their fight back in the castle, no evidence of forced entry, as if the events that had separated them never happened.

“But I am glad we are here, aren’t you?” Valda asked, a hopeful smile spreading across her lips. Tentatively, she reached for Maris’s hands, her thumb brushing over the back of one. She gently drew Maris closer, leaning in to press her lips against her mate’s forehead.

Valda’s heart swelled when Maris wrapped her arms around her waist, burying her face against Valda’s chest.

“I am…” Maris said, tightening her embrace.

Valda cradled her lover, her arms encircling her as she kissed the top of Maris’s head. The soft aqua curls tickled her nose as she inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of the sea that clung to her mate .

“I can’t stay, though. I have a meeting,” Maris said, and she pulled away from Valda, denying her the warmth she missed yet again.

“A meeting?” With whom? Valda frowned, and before Maris could take a step further, Valda clamped her hand around her wrist and held her firmly. “Wait.”

Maris looked from her eyes down to her wrist and back to her face again. “Have you forgotten I am a queen too? I have places to go, people to see.”

“People?” Her head canted. “Who are you meeting with?”

Maris laughed before she pried Valda’s hand from her wrist. “I have a meeting with Eyphah.”

Valda’s entire demeanor hardened.

“We need to talk about a security breach near the lakes. There have been some sightings of strangers in that area, and I want to make sure everyone is well protected.”

“You are in my castle, Seashell. Why would you want to go back to the settlement?” Valda asked, before swallowing hard. “I don’t want you to go.”

Maris frowned before her eyes roamed the room. Her face contorted in confusion, as if she’d only just realized she truly was in Valda’s chambers in Oberon Castle.

Valda walked to Maris’s side with one broad stride and touched her lower back. The silk of the robe was soft enough for Valda to take in how delicious it felt over Maris’s body.

“You look tired, Seashell.” Valda tutted.

“No, I— I swear… I—” Maris stammered, pressing her index fingers to her temple.

“Seashell, it’s fine,” Valda whispered. Her hand trailed lightly along Maris’s back, guiding her to the love seat. Valda sat, gently pulling Maris onto her lap. “Rest, I’m here. Let me take care of you.”

Maris’s eyes grew dark and hooded as Valda released her arm and came to circle her waist and touch her thigh, taking in the softness of the robe. It all felt too real, and Valda believed it truly was for a moment.

“Gods, please let me take care of you,” Valda whimpered, pressing her forehead to Maris’s back and closing her eyes tightly. She had craved the other woman’s touch for far too long, and although she was there, touching her, something was off, something deep within her chest bubbled up, pulling at the bond.

Desperation…

Maris scoffed as she turned to Valda. “ This is a dream. ”

Valda clenched her jaw. She knew Maris was right, but the warmth, the closeness—it all felt too real. Surely, Morpheus himself had taken pity on them, weaving their dreams into something tangible, something that allowed them to meet like this.

“It’s not a dream,” Valda insisted. “Dreams are chaotic, full of illogical things we can’t grasp or understand.” She leaned in, her fingers working at the ties of Maris’s robe. “I can grasp this, Seashell. Just as easily as you can.”

Maris’s hands covered Valda’s, stopping her movements. “Valda, this is not real. You are not here. We are not in Oberon Castle.”

Valda squeezed her eyes shut. If she agreed with Maris, she would wake up to empty arms in an empty room. Couldn’t Maris understand that?

“We are where we are supposed to be.” Her large, callused hand slipped inside the robe, finding Maris’s soft skin underneath and teasing it with her fingertips. “Together.”

Maris’s eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned back against Valda’s strong shoulders. The shift in weight made Valda’s breath hitch, and she tightened her arms around Maris, cradling her closer, holding her as though she might vanish at any moment.

Maris’s hands found Valda’s dark strands, her fingers curling into them, clutching tightly. “It’s not real,” she whispered, though the words seemed more for herself than for Valda. “Not real.”

“It’s real, Seashell… It feels real to me, and I am sure it feels real to you.”

The firm grip on Valda’s hair softened, turning into a gentle caress. Maris’s nails lightly scratched her scalp, drawing a low, guttural groan from Valda. “Gods, Valda… I miss you so much.”

Valda pressed her face to Maris’s temple, breathing her in, letting herself be surrounded by the scent and presence of her mate. Her arms tightened their hold, squeezing Maris closer as she fought to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“I miss you too,” she whispered, her lips brushing against the curve of Maris’s ear.

Trailing her nose through the soft curls of Maris’s hair, Valda let her hand glide down Maris’s arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in its wake. Her other hand settled on Maris’s stomach, her touch feather-light, feeling the faint tremor in her skin.

Valda’s lips moved to the curve of Maris’s neck, trailing kisses downward until she felt the rapid, frantic beat of her pulse beneath her lips.

“Valda,” Maris breathed.

“Oh, that voice…” Valda whimpered, pulling back just enough to lock her eyes with Maris’s. “I missed the way my name sounds on your lips. ”

Maris’s gaze softened, but her words cut through the haze of desire.

“We should wake up,” she whispered.

Valda froze. She knew Maris was lying to herself. The dampness of her arousal pressed against Valda’s thigh, betraying her true feelings. Yet, as much as Valda ached to continue, she didn’t move.

If Maris didn’t want her—didn’t fully give herself to her—what good would come of this?

“But I don’t want to wake up…” Maris whispered, her voice shaky as her hand gripped Valda’s wrist and guided it downward, pressing it to the junction of her thighs.

“P-please, Valda.”

Valda’s resolve cracked. Her other hand resumed its slow descent, trailing down Maris’s stomach, over the curve of her thigh, before slipping between her legs. She touched the wetness at her folds and her jaw slacked.

Maris’s breath hitched sharply, and Valda’s own air caught in her throat.

“Gods,” Valda murmured, her lips brushing against Maris’s ear. “How can you even think about wanting to wake up from this?”

Her fingers moved deftly, gathering the wetness and teasing her mate’s clit with soft, deliberate strokes. “You’re drenched with need. And what kind of mate would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

“Valda…”

“Not the best,” Valda’s hand slipped away abruptly, making Maris groan in frustration.

“Oh, hush,” Valda began, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Maris’s shoulder. “I’m going to give you exactly what you crave…”

Her hand trailed upward, over Maris’s stomach and sternum, before coming to rest heavily at her neck, her thumb grazing the delicate skin there.

“What do I crave, darling?”

“Me.” Valda could feel Maris’s throat moving as she swallowed hard. “Are you nervous, Seashell?”

Maris scoffed. “You always make me nervous, Valda…” she answered, looking to the side, searching for Valda.

“Good… because I am about to make you delirious.” Her grip rose to Maris’ jaw, holding her face in place as she mashed their lips together.

Maris trembled in her grasp, her lips parting to gasp, but it wasn’t air she needed—it was Valda .

Valda’s tongue slid into her mate’s mouth, claiming the warmth and tangling with Maris’s own. The taste was vivid, there was nothing dreamlike about it. It was real . The unique flavor of Maris mixed with the faint hint of the wine she’d been sipping earlier, igniting a deep groan in Valda’s chest that rolled into Maris’s inviting mouth.

Maris yielded to Valda’s roughness, her soft, mewling moans swallowed by her mate’s hunger. This closeness, this intimacy—it was everything Valda wanted and more.

Her hand moved down, brushing over Maris’s lower stomach before slipping between her thighs again.

Maris was drenched, her arousal coating Valda’s fingers. The realization made Valda’s mouth go dry with anticipation. She didn’t just want to imagine the taste of Maris—she wanted to have her, to experience every inch of her.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Valda’s hands moved to Maris’s robe, slipping it from her shoulders and letting the fabric gather at her waist. Her eyes darkened with desire as her hands found Maris’s heavy breasts, cupping them and savoring the warmth of her skin.

A sigh escaped Valda’s lips as her palms pressed against Maris’s hardened nipples.

Valda settled her chin on Maris’s shoulder and looked down at her supple chest. Her mouth opened as she breathed in Maris’s arousal and her own. She couldn’t help but chortle as her eyes widened at the beautiful sight.

“I speak of making you delirious.” She paused to press open-mouthed kisses along Maris’s shoulders, her hands squeezing her lover firmly. “But I’m the one about to lose my fucking mind.”

“We’re both insane,” Maris cried out, her frustration spilling from her lips as she tightened her grip on Valda’s hair. “Valda, please.”

Valda didn’t need to be told twice. She knew exactly what Maris needed and wasted no time in giving it to her.

One hand moved back to Maris’s neck, gripping her firmly but tenderly, while the other slipped lower, her fingers finding Maris’s slick warmth. The wetness made Valda’s mouth dry with hunger, but she began slowly, teasing, strumming her fingers lightly over Maris’s clit.

This wasn’t just for pleasure—it was a punishment. A lesson for keeping them apart for so long .

“Fuck, Valda!”

“That’s right,” Valda growled against her ear, her grip tightening on Maris’s neck. “It’s me. Say it. Say my name.”

Her fingers moved with precision, unrelenting as Maris writhed in her arms, her body trying to escape the violent assault on her senses. Valda wasn’t about to let her go.

“What do you want?” Valda demanded, her voice a low rasp. “Say it.”

“Valda,” Maris sighed, her mouth searching for hers as her hips jerked silently, begging Valda to slip one finger inside, as if she would die if she didn’t.

“You want me to fuck you, Seashell?”

Maris nodded enthusiastically, bit her lip, and pressed her chest higher, exposing her heavy breast to the cold air inside the chamber.

“Say it,” Valda growled, her voice rough with frustration. “I want you to say it. You’re thinking it, but you’re too fucking stubborn to admit that your place is here—between my legs, around my fingers.”

She tightened her hold on Maris, pulling her body flush against her own, her teeth scraping against the delicate skin of Maris’s neck. “Say it, Maris. I swear to Ouranos, I’ll let you go and leave you a trembling, sopping mess.”

“Please!” Maris whimpered, her hand coming to grasp Valda’s thick wrist. “Please, please, darling.”

“Please, what?” Valda asked, her fingers stopping and slowly slipping away. “What do you want, Seashell?”

Maris’s silence made Valda’s jaw clench. An angry growl escaped her, and before she could stop herself, her hand came down with a sharp, firm smack to Maris’s dripping cunt.

Maris’s eyes flew open at the sudden sting, her head snapping to face Valda. Those piercing blue eyes met hers, burning with raw, unrestrained lust.

Valda could have drowned in them.

The sight of Maris, flushed and trembling, with her lips parted in a silent gasp, sent Valda over the edge. She surged forward, capturing Maris’s mouth in a bruising kiss.

Gods, she wanted her.

Not just in this dream—but physically. She wanted to feel Maris’s skin under her hands, to touch her, taste her, and see all of her again.

When she finally broke away, gasping for air, Valda’s hand came down again with another smack to Maris’s cunt .

This time, her other hand moved from Maris’s neck to her flushed face, holding her steady, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“Say it, Maris,” Valda whispered, her nose brushing against Maris’s temple, her thumb grazing the softness of her plump lower lip. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You know I always do…”

Maris gasped, her breath hitching before she caught Valda’s thumb between her lips, sucking it gently.

A bolt of heat shot through Valda, her body tightening with need. Her other hand slid lower, spreading Maris’s wet folds with deliberate care.

“You are marvelous,” Valda murmured, her lips brushing the curve of Maris’s ear. “You are perfect. And you’re all mine.”

Maris nodded, releasing Valda’s thumb with an audible pop. “Yours,” she whispered. “I am all yours.”

“That’s right,” Valda said as she kissed the tender skin beneath Maris’s earlobe. She inhaled deeply, the intoxicating scent of salt and sea filling her senses. “All mine. No one else is allowed to get you this wet.”

“No one does,” Maris sighed, her hips beginning to move in slow, circular motions, her slickness coating Valda’s fingers. “Only you.”

“Only me,” Valda breathed, slipping a teasing finger into Maris’s soaking entrance.

Maris shuddered, her entire body trembling as her hand grasped Valda’s powerful arm, her fingers digging into her bicep. “Please, Valda, darling,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Please, fuck me.”

Valda grinned against her skin. “Was that so hard, Seashell?”

In one swift motion, Valda stood, gathering Maris effortlessly into her arms. With two broad strides, they were back in the bedroom. Maris’s pathetic attempt not to beg had dissolved, Instead, the younger woman clung to Valda’s shoulders as their kiss deepened.

Laying on her bed, Valda pulled Maris over her, allowing her to straddle her waist with her thick thighs, never breaking their heated kiss. It wasn’t until Maris pulled away and sat up that Valda could inspect her lover’s body…

She was covered in paint…

Like the night of the bonding.

“Fuck…” Valda shuddered, her hands roaming over Maris’s skin, her legs, waist, hips, then her soft stomach, her heavy breast, and her neck. She smeared the streaks of paint even more, making the woman look astonishing, a true goddess .

“I will worship every inch of your body for as long as I can breathe. I will no longer pray to Ouranos, but I will pray and plead and worship you, Maris,” Valda said, her eyes never leaving Maris’s body as they followed the same path her hands had taken seconds ago.

Maris grabbed Valda’s large hands, stopping the exploration. “You can start by worshiping my pussy with your mouth,” Maris purred as she clasped Valda’s face in her stained hands and devoured her.

Valda wrapped her arms across her back, allowing Maris to take as much as she wanted from her. She could feel the desperation in Maris’s movements as the younger woman rubbed herself against her strong stomach.

Valda was surrounded by a curtain of blue hair as Maris’s lips slotted against hers. Then the curtain shifted, replaced by the firm, tanned thighs she adored.

Valda’s hands found Maris’s ass, gripping and spreading her cheeks as she carefully positioned her lover over her face. Without hesitation, her long, broad tongue pressed against Maris’s soaked pussy, dragging a slow, deliberate stroke through her folds.

A deep groan rumbled in Valda’s chest, vibrating against Maris’s inner thighs and sensitive clit as she lapped the wetness coating her tongue.

Maris’s hand shot to Valda’s dark hair, fingers tangling tightly as she took control. Valda surrendered willingly, her strong hands providing support as Maris rocked her hips, grinding herself against Valda’s mouth and face.

Valda’s hands trailed upward, leaving their mark on Maris’s thighs and hips, holding her steady as her tongue worked with unrelenting focus. The room filled with the sound of Maris’s desperate cries, as her rhythm grew frantic.

Too preoccupied with giving in to Maris’s needs, Valda didn’t notice the hand slithering over her taut stomach. Surprised, she flinched as skilled fingers spread over her folds and then cupped her pussy. Valda’s stunned gasp interrupted her, until Maris pulled her back.

This side of Maris, the dominating one, always left her breathless.

Valda’s arms hooked securely around Maris’s thighs, pulling her closer as she resumed her fervent efforts to satisfy her lover. By the shaky breaths escaping Maris’s lips and the quivering of her body, Valda knew she was close to the edge.

The same fingers teasing Valda went to work, mimicking the soft flicks of Valda’s tongue, driving her to the point of madness. She wanted to make them come at the same time… She wanted to feel Maris crumble above her, to hear her cry out to the heavens, to shout the name of the one in control of her body—the one who turned her into this desperate mess.

Valda anchored Maris’s body against her face, holding her steady as the panting, and frantic swearing above her grew louder, desperate.

Opening her eyes, Valda looked up, her breath hitching at the sight above her: Maris, head thrown back, body arched because of her…

But then, Valda saw it.

The soft glint of Maris’s necklace caught her eye, the two wedding bands dangling from the chain around her lover’s neck. A sharp pang tore through Valda’s chest, replacing her fervent desire with a cold ache.

As if sensing her distress, Maris stilled, her movements halting as she released Valda’s hair and brought her hand to the necklace.

The shift was immediate. Maris’s body tensed, and the warmth between them evaporated. The walls of rejection rose, brick by agonizing brick, as Maris clutched the wedding bands tightly. Her blue eyes, once hazy with arousal, now burned with rage.

Suddenly, the sound of broken glass and laughter pierced through their connection.

Valda’s eyes snapped open, and instead of finding a goddess upon her, she saw nothing but the ceiling of her room back in Cressida. Valda blew out a shaky breath, pushing herself upright.

Her clothes clung to her damp skin, drenched with sweat, and her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing. She darted her tongue across her lower lip, searching for a trace of Maris’s taste—but there was nothing.

And then she felt it. Maris’s need. Her cries of anger, frustration, and unfulfilled arousal. The sensations dissolved in an instant, leaving Valda aching.

I need to see her…

She needed to see Maris… She had to. Maybe being close to her physically would help their bond heal and become stronger. Perhaps they had already wasted too much time apart. Valda had to find her.

With unsteady hands, Valda gathered her coat and sword before she stormed out of her room, through the inn, and into the cold night where her horse waited. Cerberus leapt after her, the feline landing gracefully before scrambling onto the saddle blanket, claws digging in for balance.

Valda’s plan was simple .

She would head to New Agenor, call out to Maris using their bond, and hope—pray—that the other woman had let her walls crumble enough to meet her. If not, she’d return to Cressida and continue her operation. She could already hear Isen’s violent uproar at her decision, but four months was more than enough… right?

“What are you doing?” Isen’s voice cut through the million thoughts in her head as he stepped in front of her horse. The animal shifted nervously, tossing its head. “You are not heading to New Agenor, not like this.” He pointed sharply at her.

Valda glanced down at herself. Her disheveled state—the wrinkled blouse clinging to her sweat-drenched skin, the wildness in her eyes. Lowering her head, she tugged at her blouse as if to cover herself. “I need to see her,” she said, her voice quivering.

“You need to plan a way to beat him!” Isen bared his teeth, his arms outstretched, preventing Valda from moving an inch. “I know how you feel, Valda, believe me, the yearning the need, the sickness is enough to drive you mad but—”

“She keeps blocking me!”

“And she will keep on doing that!”

“Please… Isen…” Her voice broke, yet she didn’t care Isen saw her like that. Swallowing a sob, she tilted her head, almost in pain. “Isen, I need to see her.”

Isen pursed his lips and dropped his arms, his gaze shifting from Valda to the wooden houses around them. His hands balled into fists.

“You need to see her too, don’t you?”

He nodded, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“Let’s go to New Agenor! I will stay away from Maris. I’ll hide. I’ll make sure she doesn’t see me if I feel she doesn’t want to.”

Isen took a deep breath, shaking his head as if trying to convince himself to argue. But finally, he exhaled sharply and nodded. “You’re putting me in a bad situation, Valda,” he began. “You’re my queen. I serve you, your army. But Maris is also my queen, and Melvian is my mate. If Maris finds out you were there, after she specifically said she didn’t want to see you. She’ll be furious. And so will Melvian.”

“But—”

“But I also have to follow your commands.”

Valda swallowed hard. “I will see my mate, Isen. With or without you.”

“I know…” Isen’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “We leave first thing in the morning.”