Chapter 27
We wake in the morning, though I feel as though I’ve slept for days. The spirits did their work. The buffet is waiting with fresh juice, fruit, and an assortment of bread. But it’s the smell that hits me first—rich, dark, familiar. Coffee.
I spring out of bed, elated at the prospect of a cup. Lowan chuckles at my sudden energy, eyes warm as he says, “I’ll be sure there’s always fresh coffee in our home so that you can wake this jovial every day.”
The words ‘our home’ make me smile despite the ache in my chest. He catches what he’s said and smiles too, softer this time, as if the thought pleases him as much as it does me.
We dress and head to the common room. Remli is already there, leaning against the wall. She gives me a tentative smile and stammers, “I…I’m sorry if I—”
I step closer, placing a hand on her shoulder before she can finish. “You don’t owe me an apology. Or explanations. I was just as challenging for you. But when it counted, you were here—fighting. You helped Lowan save me from that…” My throat closes on the memory.
Remli’s eyes glisten as she squeezes my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think I’m going all soft on you now,” she jokes, forcing a grin.
“Never,” I reply, and for once, we mean it.
A giggle echoes down the hall. Zillah and Selene emerge, flushed and radiant, fingers brushing as if they can’t stop touching.
Remli groans and mutters, “Why did Fate stick me with two Threadbound couples… The lust pouring off you all constantly—my lynx nose can hardly stomach the smell of your persistent desires.”
We laugh, and the sound lingers until Elaris glides into the space, serene as ever. She sets down her tea service and seats herself, bracelets chiming faintly.
“Everyone rested?” she asks.
“I feel like I slept for a hundred years,” I admit truthfully.
The others nod in agreement.
“Good,” Elaris says, voice turning solemn. “Because you will need your strength for the journey ahead.”
I sit forward, pulse quickening.
“It is time for you to set out to find Arden. He holds a truth we must uncover.”
“But—what about my mother?” The words tumble out, desperate. Lowan’s fingers brush mine in silent support, grounding me.
Elaris holds my gaze. Her expression softens, but her words are resolute.
“Your mother’s return is an essential Thread in this tapestry, but it is not her time yet.
It is Arden’s. Find him. Bring him to me to uncover his truth.
Then, perhaps, you will be ready to seek further knowledge—and a path to your mother—from Nova Donovan. ”
Her words leave no room for argument. We look around at each other, at the space that had become a haven, a place where we’d bared our souls in ways we never had before.
“When do we leave?” Zillah asks, steady as ever.
“Now,” Elaris replies.
The air outside the cave is heavy with heat, the kind that clings to skin and makes every step feel longer. Selene shades her eyes and tilts her face toward the sun, then closes them as if listening to something beyond our hearing.
“I know the way,” she murmurs. “Not far. I can sense it. Arden’s at the heart of the island—one of the agricultural villages, most likely.”
Remli purses her lips and lets out a piercing whistle. We wait, but the sky stays empty. No beating wings. No flash of golden feathers.
She whistles again, louder this time—still nothing.
“They won’t come,” Selene says, eyes opening. “They probably knew we’d be in the caves for a while. Once they sensed no danger, they returned to their roosts. Griffins don’t linger when they aren’t needed. They’re too far gone now to hear you.”
Remli shifts her weight, muttering something under her breath that sounds like a curse, then shrugs. “So much for flying.”
Elaris appears at the cave mouth, her pale hair catching the light. She offers no supplies, only a quiet nod toward the trees. “Nature will provide for you,” she says simply.
So we shoulder what little we have, fill skins at the glistening waterfall, and set out. The heat is blistering, the road long. Remli takes her lynx form and lopes ahead, her tawny coat flashing in the sun.
Lowan and I walk side by side for a while before he nudges me with his shoulder, wings flickering into place as he launches skyward. I laugh and follow, my own wings catching the currents. We soar for short stretches, letting the wind cool our skin before drifting back down to rejoin the others.
“You must have hated being grounded so much,” I say as we land. “All those journeys with us, while you could have been flying.”
He glances sideways at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “Being on the ground meant being with you. It wasn’t a sacrifice. It was a trade I’d make again.”
My heart flips, and I pretend not to stumble on the path. The conversation shifts as the miles stretch. Zillah asks, “Why is Arden so important? What could he possibly know?”
We puzzle through it together. Lowan recalls his father’s absences—an extended trip he once thought was royal business.
His voice is tight as he admits, “I remember nothing of that journey, only my mother saying my father had gone away. Looking back, perhaps that’s when he went to deliver Arden to the Isle. ”
We do the math. Eighteen. Nineteen years at most. Too young to be fully into his power.
“How can someone not yet grown matter so much?” Zillah wonders aloud.
It’s Remli who answers, her lynx eyes sharp even in her human form. “Sirona hadn’t come fully into her magic either. And she still changed everything.” That silences us.
“Age and ability don’t always decide destiny,” Selene agrees softly.
I muse, “Whatever else, Arden can’t be the King’s son. Tambrose would never have hesitated to dispose of another unwanted heir—especially if he carried no special power. He would have followed the Queen’s command without blinking.”
Memories stir, bitter and hot. I recall the Queen’s throne room, the way her eyes lingered on Tambrose. “Did no one else see it?” I ask.
Lowan’s jaw tightens. “I did. I know what hunger looks like.” His voice dips, rough with memory. “I lived it, traveling beside you and not being able to have what I wanted. He wanted her. Everyone could see it.”
I swallow. “Even in the king’s presence, it was still there. Which makes me think, maybe the King doesn’t care. Maybe their unity is about power, not love. He doesn’t care if she shares her body elsewhere.”
“But why take the risk?” Selene presses. “Why wouldn’t Tambrose use a fertility ward, knowing she intended to bear an heir? They absolutely have multiple healers available.”
“Unless,” Remli says suddenly, “he loves her.” We all stop in our tracks, the words hanging in the heavy air.
She lifts her chin when we stare. “I wasn’t joking about my lynx nose.
Desire has a scent. I smell it between you two, between Zillah and Selene—it’s different from ordinary lust. Stronger.
Unique. I can’t prove it, but what if Tambrose hoped?
What if he thought that, with her, a child could change something for them?
Could mean something?” The silence that follows is heavier than the heat.
“Do we think she loves him back?” Zillah asks at last.
I shake my head. “I’m not sure someone who can kill her own child simply because it wasn’t what she wanted is capable of love at all.” No one argues with me.
The heat presses down on us with every mile, a weight heavier than my pack. My skirt clings to my legs, and I curse my choice—why hadn’t I chosen the loose trousers? They would’ve been merciful.
We pause at a stream, everyone grateful for the break. I lean down to cup the cool water to my lips, but Lowan catches my hand instead, tugging me toward the trees.
“Lowan—”
I don’t finish. His mouth is already on mine, urgent, needy. The bark of the tree scrapes my back as he hikes my skirt up and presses into me, and all thought burns away until there is only him, only us.
When we return, Remli rolls her eyes in exaggerated disgust. Zillah wiggles her eyebrows.
I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. Not anymore.
Something about openly acknowledging our bond—to each other, to the group—has made us ravenous for one another.
Even watching him tilt his head back to swallow water, his throat working, has me burning all over again.
The next time we slip away into the shadows of the foliage, I whisper what I’ve been thinking: I could spend all day like this. His breath is hot against my neck. “I could,” he growls. “I absolutely could stay buried in you forever.”
By the time we stumble back again, smoothing clothes and hair, the others are busy setting up camp for the night: no tents, just a fire and the open air. Zillah is shaking with silent laughter, shoulders quaking as Selene tries—and fails—to smother her smile.
“Fuck off,” Lowan snaps, though the laughter in his eyes betrays him.
Selene, ever the voice of reason, only says gently, “It’s normal. When you accept the Thread between you, body, and soul, the need grows. It becomes… heightened. Emotional. Sensual.” She glances at Zillah, her voice softening. “When Zillah and I—”
“Okay, okay,” Lowan cuts in sharply, hand raised. “I don’t need graphic details of my sister and her lover, thank you.”
Zillah only smirks at me, eyes gleaming. I manage a sheepish smile. “But… does it ease? I mean, this wanting—when does it fade?”
Zillah’s grin turns wicked. “It doesn’t.”
The night under the stars passes uneventfully. We take turns with watch, Zillah’s shield humming faintly around us, though the jungle offers nothing more than a chorus of insects and the occasional cry in the distance.
Before bedding down, Remli makes us all swear that if any need strikes, we’ll take ourselves “far, far into the trees.”
“We can manage one night without scandal,” Zillah promises with a grin.
“Sure,” Remli mutters, clearly unconvinced. Still, we all hang in, and dawn breaks without incident.