73. Arran

The morning sun turned the cave shades of crystalline blue whose beauty was rivaled only by the eyes of the female curled against my side. We woke slowly. Veyka's stomach grumbled, mine answered, we both laughed softly. The ring of bright blue in Veyka's eyes glowed brightly. I was loath to give it up, this refuge. The closeness it had brought, if not clarity.

I had known Veyka was powerful, clever. But I had not expected the depth at which she cared. She'd made herself into an enigma, even to me. Yet, in the darkness, I felt like I had truly seen her for the first time since waking in Avalon.

The ease the darkness had created between us lingered, if slightly altered by the light of day. We could see each other now. The wound on her breast had healed. More importantly, she pulled herself up to stand easily when I offered her my hand.

"Are you ready?" I asked, wishing I did not have to.

Veyka caught her lower lip between her teeth. She stared at my chest, rather than my face. Maybe she regretted the night between us. My beast snarled his answer to that—impossible.

When she did lift her eyes to mine, the answer was there, plain. The love.

I love you.She had not said those words last night; but her voice echoed in my head just the same. Except now, perhaps, even louder than before.

Veyka held out her hand and I took it, knowing she would deliver us back to our companions. Her power, at least, I could trust her to judge for herself.

A second later, and my feet were still on compacted snow, but there was the sun shining overhead and the startled, relieved cries of Lyrena and Barkke.

I dropped Veyka's hand by reflex. She blinked repeatedly. I waited for her to say something, aloud or through the bond between us. But after a few seconds, she walked away, into Lyrena's unrestrained embrace.

Part of me—the beast—roared to go after her. To reestablish the connection between us. Here, back with our companions, it might be impossible to recreate. Lyrena would keep Veyka close. Barkke would report to me out of responsibility and routine. Veyka and I would be on opposing sides once again.

But my feet did not move.

Barkke approached, a grin on his face, ready to make a lewd joke about how we'd passed the night. And still, I did not move.

Because we were not protected by the darkness anymore. As much as I respected her, I did not agree with her about the amorite or the coming conflict. And I knew there was more about the succubus that she was not telling me.

There was more between us, and I could not be the only one responsible for tearing that wall down.