Page 170 of The Moonborn's Curse
Mira nodded, handing over a napkin. "Too much game."
Ryn didn't even look up. "Allergic to game."
Then Riven reached out and gently took Seren's hand. "Say yes."
She hesitated—just long enough for Hagan to thinkdon'tyou dare—and then she sighed. "One gallery. One night."
The beer glass shattered in Hagan's grip.
Ana gasped, already reaching for a towel. "That's not what we mean by breaking the ice, Muscles."
But it was Seren who came over. Calm, collected, as though her heart wasn't a warzone.
She didn't say anything. He hadn't noticed it until now, but a sliver of glass had embedded itself near the base of his thumb. She plucked it out with a wince. A drop of blood welled.
And then—slowly, deliberately—she laid her other hand over the wound. Her fingers brushed over the red line across his palm. A warm glow bloomed—and just like that, the wound sealed shut.
Hagan stared. At the hand. Ather.
She whispered, "One of my gifts. Another little detail you don't know about me."
And walked away.
A lot of things made sense now. All the time she'd spent in the healers' tents. How her touch soothed. He watched her retreat, her spine straight, her face unreadable.
Hagan went still as stone.
It wasn't just the bracelet.
It wasn't just the other man.
It was the realisation—watching her casually close a wound with magic, something he'd never seen, something she had never told him—that he didn't know.
What else she had kept from him?
What else she had hidden to protect herself?
The room felt too warm. The lights too bright. The bond, though muted, hummed like an unfinished chord.
He watched as Riven smiled softly at Seren. Seren smiled back—only slightly. Her fingers touched the tiny silver fox hanging from her wrist.
And Hagan knew he was going to lose his mind.
Chapter 62
Back to the present
Hagan stood at the balcony now, half behind the curtain like some stalker villain in a mid-tier drama.
But gods. Look at her.
His eyes drifted—trailing the curve of her thigh, the dip of her waist, the way her mouth pulled to the side as she spoke to someone just out of view.
Mine.
The refrain came unbidden. Raw. Uncompromising.
That warlock had no idea who he was dealing with.
