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Lodan’s head snapped up. “What do you want?”

Greta entered the armory tent to join him, no longer hobbling or needing her walking crutch but still moving a little slower. “I come to where the wounded are.”

“It’s well past midnight, and as you can see, there are no wounded here.” He was alone, wiping down the sword on his knee. “Get your rest, I’m sure we’ll have men who need help tomorrow.”

As usual, Greta ignored him. Hands behind her back, she walked slowly around the tent, peering down at the armor and weapons laid out, ready for his warriors to grab. “I’m not the one who needs rest.”

He wiped his cloth down his sword again, even though it was already clean. “I need little sleep.” He hadn’t slept in days. He’d found another bed that didn’t smell like Kassandra, but it didn’t matter. Without her tucked next to him, he couldn’t sleep.

He was mere hours away from finally battling the king, and he needed his rest, but it was impossible.

After days of searching, they’d found the ancient crumbling fort where King Harl and his band of soldiers were hiding. Harl had chosen his retreat well. Similar to Sarda City, the great walls were high and smooth. Unless the gates were open, there was no way to get inside, and no way to scale the walls. Invaders would be heavily wounded if they tried.

However, they opened the gates when they took delivery of food or other goods.

While camped in Argos, Lodan had discovered the secret messages and trade flowing from Ambrose and a small band of other Alphas still loyal to the Sardi. The Argosians delivered food and other goods daily to the Sardi. He’d let it continue.

Tomorrow, there would be a delivery they didn’t expect.

“Xander met with his Omega tonight,” Greta informed him.

He’d forgotten Greta was still here. “I know.”

“He told me he’s coming back to the Dorian forest for him after the battle.”

Lodan nodded. “I know. Is that why you’re here? To gossip about Xander?”

“I told you why I’m here. I heal the wounded.”

“And I said there are no wounded.”

She turned on her heel in one quick movement and pointed at him. “You let Kassandra go.” She huffed out a breath. “Between you and Xander, I figured you’d be the one to realize you’re a proper fool first and go back for your Omega. I see I was wrong.”

He scrubbed harder at his pristine sword. “She chose to leave. She’s a free Omega and it was her choice.”

“Yet you’d been rather obstinate about keeping her.”

“She deserves her freedom. And the Dorians can keep her safe.” He didn’t need to explain himself to Greta, to anyone, but he kept speaking anyway. “Even if she finds happiness with me, there will be Sardi out there who think they can use her to return the Podarce line to power. They might try to take her and put her on the throne. She’ll never be safe or free. The Dorians can give her that. And there are other things between us neither of us can overcome.”

What she’d said about the breach separating them made sense. Over the past week, he’d thought about her words constantly.

Every time you look at me, I’ll remind you of what you hate.

What he’d found though, was that it wasn’t true. Every time he thought of Kassandra, he thought of the few times he’d made her smile. Her sweet scent. The way she made him feel like he was standing in the sun in Myrdinia again, warm and happy.

“If you bonded with her, those loyal to the Sardi wouldn’t try to steal her. They couldn’t part her from you, or she’d die. Or fail to thrive. Regardless, she wouldn’t be able to be a new queen. Besides, I’d like to see them try to make her do anything she didn’t want to. You’re the scariest warrior walking the land, and she didn’t obey you.”

“No. She didn’t.” Except for the few times she’d wanted to. Like when she’d waited for him, naked, on his bed.

“She never invited the bond, and it would be another prison.”

“Isn’t that why you took her? To make her your prisoner?”

“Things change.”

Greta strode over and grabbed his wrist. She studied his face in the way she examined men dripping with blood and needing healing. Her fingers tightened. She was rather strong for an elderly Beta.

“How much has it hurt to be parted from her?”

Every day, he felt like he’d been run through with a sword, but he forced himself to keep going. To breathe in and out. The few times he’d been seriously injured, he counted his breaths to deal with the pain. Since leaving Kassandra, something would remind him of her, and a wave of pain would slice him, and he’d have to stop and count. One breath. Two.

The problem was, everything reminded him of her.

“How much?”

Breathe in. Breathe out. “It hurts to even breathe.” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud.

Greta sighed. “I don’t have much I can give you for emotional pain, and even less for losing your bondmate. I’m not sure the ache will ever fade.” She dropped his wrist and dug her hands into the large pockets of her tunic. “But this will help you focus for the battle tomorrow. Maybe even get a little sleep.”

He froze. “Bondmate? No. If she was my bondmate I would have recognized her instantly.”

“Pah.” Greta pressed a small packet into his hand. “No one knows how the gods determine bondmates. Or how or when the connection happens. The two of you were so far up your own asses and blinded by prejudice, you ignored the signs.” She crossed her arms. “And Kassandra was taking suppressants.”

He jerked, and his sword clattered to the ground. “What?”

“Whenever you weren’t looking at her, she watched you as if you hung the moon. And when she wasn’t looking at you, you stared at her like she was a goddess on earth.”

Lodan surged to his feet. “What do you mean suppressants? What did you give her?”

Greta shot him a small, satisfied smile. “Oh, that change things for you? She was taking a drug Cian gave her. One he used to insulate him from desiring a bond. But Cian couldn’t know the full potency of it. It prevents bonding, but it also suppresses other instincts, like the ones that ignite a bondmate connection.”

He stood frozen for a long moment. She’d taken a drug to suppress their true connection. During her heat, Kassandra told him she saw him. She’d wrapped herself around him and swept him away. She may not remember any of it, but he did. Every second. Those two days in bed with her may have been the two most perfect days of his adult life.

Because she was his bondmate?

But he’d lost her. She’d chosen to leave. “It doesn’t change anything. I’m about to go kill her brother. No love can spring from that.”

“Interesting word you chose. Love.”

He paced to the end of the tent. “I need to free Anatolia. Every step for the past fifteen years has been focused on that, and I’m almost there.”

Greta only nodded.

“I can’t give that up. I don’t care what a prophecy says or what might happen to me, I—” The memory of the burning houses, of his sister’s face before he blacked out, of his father and his mother dancing together during festivals, all floated before him. “I need to avenge their deaths.”

“Let your sword bite true and freedom claim the land and all that.” Greta’s expression sobered. “You’ve defeated the oppressors here, but remember, you’re fighting for your freedom, too.”

“I’ve been free for fifteen years.”

“Have you? Or has your past trapped you? Is it still trapping you, even now, from seeing what you really need?”

He picked up his sword. “You’re telling me to stop battling?”

She cocked her head. “Did I say that?”

He snorted. Typical Greta answer.

“What will you do after you get what you want?”

He set his sword on the armory table, its gold hilt glinting in the low light. “I’ve never looked past the final battle. Not because of the silly prophecy, but because the day the Sardi fell always felt so distant.”

“Not so distant anymore, is it?”

He didn’t answer. No, it wasn’t distant anymore, except he couldn’t see his future. He couldn’t picture anything beyond the battle tomorrow. No home waited for him. No mate. He wasn’t even sure what a home would be anymore. He turned to answer Greta, but no one remained in the tent with him any longer.