Chapter 15 Landon
Dorcha’s wings beat steadily beneath me as we cross the final ridge toward Volundr. We have been flying since before dawn, following narrow mountain passes and keeping below the clouds whenever the Hunt’s scouts appeared in the distance.
The mission ran three days longer than it should have.
Nine days of sleeping beneath trees, tracking troop movements and watching entire companies gather along the northern roads. Nine days without Rhianelle.
My body aches from days in the saddle and my hands are stiff from the cold. Dorcha is tired too. I can feel her exhaustion through the rider’s bond, though she won’t admit it. But what we discovered could change the fate of every warrior who followed me out of Avalon.
We should go now, Dorcha urges through the bond. Her exhaustion cannot conceal her excitement.
“We must tell Rhianelle first,” I say. “I owe her that.”
If the message is true, this changes everything. We could all go home.
“Yes,” I answer. “If it is true.”
Now the city rises ahead, slate roofs and silver canals catching the afternoon light. Dorcha gives an excited rumble as she begins her descent toward the palace.
I see her from the air before I land.
Rhianelle stands in the palace gardens, her silver hair billowing behind her in the wind from Dorcha’s wings. She has one hand raised to shade her eyes and she’s looking up.
Looking at me.
Even with the distance between us from this height, the mate bond hums with awareness. Something about her posture tells me she’s been waiting.
Dorcha circles once before descending, her wings creating gusts that send flower petals scattering across the stone paths.
My mate is already walking toward me and by the devil, she’s beautiful.
I’ve thought it before and every day since the bond snapped into place between us. But it hits me anew each time I see her. The way the sun illuminates her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips.
She’s breathtaking and magnificent. A queen in truth, even if she doesn’t fully embrace that power yet.
And she’s mine.
Fate chose her for me and wove our strings together. The Un declared that of all the beings in this world, she is my match.
So why does she look like she’s about to shatter?
The impact of Dorcha's landing travels up through my legs. I free my boots from the stirrups and swing down. I unbuckle my riding gloves and tuck them into my belt. My fingers rake through my wind-tangled hair. After nine days on the road, I probably look terrible.
Rhianelle takes another step toward me, then stops.
For one hopeful moment, I think she might throw herself into my arms. Instead, she clasps her hands tightly in front of her. Her eyes are red around the edges.
Something happened while I was gone.
“Landon.” My name leaves her lips unsteadily. She stops a few feet away, her hands twisting together. “You’re back.”
“I am.” I try for a smile. “It was a long flight.”
Her mouth trembles like she wants to return it. “Was it difficult?”
“Nothing Dorcha and I couldn’t handle.” I study her face. “Rhianelle, what’s wrong?”
Tell her the news, Dorcha urges through the bond. Hurry.
I will. Go and eat. I send down the bond.
Dorcha looks between us, sensing the tension. Then she lowers her head and lumbers toward the feeding area, giving us the privacy Rhianelle clearly needs.
I offer Rhianelle my arm. Even through the layers of fabric, I feel the tremor in her touch.
We walk in silence through the gardens, past roses that are just beginning to bloom. The mate bond thrums between us, weighted with whatever burden she’s carrying.
Finally, she stops near a bench hidden behind climbing ivy. No one can see us here. Not a single guard or courtier.
“I need to tell you something.” Her fingers tighten around my sleeve before she forces herself to release me.
Her voice is barely more than a whisper. She releases my arm and turns away, staring at the ivy-covered wall.
“I have been having dreams,” she starts, then presses her lips together. “I’m embarrassed even saying it.”
“Tell me anyway,” I say.
“I’ve been having strange dreams about someone.” She stops.
I wait.
She presses her palms against the sides of her dress. “They began before you left. I thought they were meaningless at first.”
Her cheeks darken. She cannot look at me. “There was a man in that dream. He wore a mask, so I could not see his face. I did not know who he was, but every time I saw him, it felt as though I had been searching for him for my entire life.”
My stomach tightens. I already know the name she is about to speak.
“When I removed his mask, he looked like Arescaine,” she says.
The name on her lips sends an irrational spike of jealousy through me, but I force my expression to remain neutral. “I know.”
Her head snaps up. “You know?”
“Not the specifics.” I keep my voice even. “But I can feel you through the bond. I can feel when you are happy. When you are afraid. When you are confused. When you—”
I hesitate for a beat. “When you want someone else.”
The shame that crosses her face makes me regret the words immediately. I force myself to stay still, to let her speak.
“Landon, I am so sorry. Fate gave me someone like you, yet my thoughts keep turning toward him.” She covers her mouth, fighting a sob. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”
There’s nothing wrong with you. He’s your husband.
The words remain trapped behind my teeth.
She wraps her arms around herself. Tears are streaming down her face now. I want to pull her close and comfort her.
I should be angry. I should feel betrayed, hurt, furious that my fated mate is confessing attraction to another.
But I’m not angry.
Because I know.
I’ve known since the moment I saw them together in that healing chamber. The vampire looked at her like she was his entire world.
Fate may have chosen me and declared me her perfect match in the eyes of the Un. But her marriage to him was her choice.
“Why aren’t you angry?” Rhianelle asks, looking up at me with those devastating eyes. “Why aren’t you furious with me?”
“Because—” I stop, weighing my words carefully. I can’t tell her the truth. That’s not my secret to share. Arescaine said Blight, one of the Un might harm her.
“Because I know what it is to want what you’re not supposed to have.”
Her breath catches. “Landon—”
“I’m your enemy,” I say quietly. “I’m the Herald of the Hunt, the commander who helped plan attacks against your people. I serve the king who wants to destroy your kingdom. By all rights, you should hate me. But fate tied us together anyway.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then, so softly I almost miss it. “I don’t understand why I’m attracted to a stranger when fate literally gave me you.”
Her gaze travels over my face.
“You are brave, beautiful and perfect, Landon. You protect your warriors even when it costs you everything. You are everything I could have prayed for.”
A surprised laugh escapes me. “You think I am beautiful and perfect?”
“Yes,” she says without hesitation.
That answer should make me happy. Instead, it makes the ache in my chest deepen.
Those impossible lilac eyes find mine and hold. She wipes angrily at the tears on her cheeks. “I need to tell you what happened yesterday.”
I go still.
“Arescaine made a flying harness for Coral. Yesterday she flew, Landon. I was so happy and grateful. I went to the forge to help him with adjustments and—”
Her smile fades. She looks down at her hands.
I brace for the words I have expected since the healing chamber as I watch her. Something in my chest settles into a quiet, resigned place.
I knew this day would come, if I’m honest with myself.
I didn’t hope for it or want it. But I expected it. She was always going to find her way back to him. The bond between them predates everything. It predates me, predates fate’s golden string and the Un’s declaration. I knew what I was walking into.
She chose him once. Perhaps some part of her remembers that choice even if her mind does not.
“I wanted to kiss him. I stood there thinking about it while you were away risking your life.” The words come out muffled behind her hands. “For one terrible moment, I nearly did.”
She draws a trembling breath and lowers her hands. Her face is crumpled with guilt. I hold my breath.
“I almost kissed him,” she confesses again.
I stare at her.
What?
She almost kissed him?
All this crying. All this guilt. The dread I felt through the bond. I had prepared myself to hear that she had returned to his bed or remembered enough to choose him openly.
But they did not even kiss.
I marvel at her, the silver-haired Elven Queen. My mate chosen by Fate. Even the thought of deceiving me was unbearable to her.
I close the distance between us and take her face in my hands. Tears cling to her cheeks. I brush them away with my thumbs. Her pulse flutters beneath my fingertips as I lean closer, and she goes still.
A selfish thought rises inside me.
I want her.
Fate chose her for me. The golden string binds us. For once, I want to stop surrendering every piece of her to a past she cannot even remember.
I’ve been holding back for weeks, feeling the bond pull tighter every day while she stayed just out of reach. Now, with her confession hanging between us and her gaze locked on mine, I stop holding back.
I kiss her.
She makes a startled sound against my mouth, her hands coming up to my chest.
And gods, she’s perfect.
Her lips are soft and yielding. She tastes like honey and summer. The mate bond flares between us, singing with approval, flooding us both with warmth.
This is what fate intended. This perfect alignment of two souls.
But beneath the warmth, I feel something else.
The hesitation. The confusion. The part of her that’s holding back because her heart is somewhere else.
I pull back, breathing hard. I rest my forehead against hers. Rhianelle’s eyes are open, her face flushed, her lips swollen from my kiss.
“Landon,” she whispers.
Neither of us says it aloud, but the truth settles between us.