It takes all my willpower not to roll my eyes.“Yeah, yeah, mine too. But that meansusand no one trying to abuse our bonded power.”It takes everything in me not to add air quotes to “power” as I think the word. That wouldn’t earn me any strange looks.Not. Sure, I can set a bed on fire, but the rest is hard to grasp and come to terms with.
Solan’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he stands, his broad frame casting a shadow over the small table. “Let’s go.”
The walk toVarek’s quarters feels longer than it should, tension thick in the air. Calythra’s presence is a steadying one.Jamie stays close, his yabbering about everything he sees and everything else on his mind a contrast to the heavy mood.
And Solan…. Hell, I couldn’t do any of this without him or his gentle waves of reassurance travelling through our bond.
When we arrive, the same monster—I hold back a wince…guard—I noticed before is stationed outside. Its eyes—too many and too sharp—follow us as we approach. I swallow hard, forcing myself to focus on Solan’s steady presence at my side.
The guard steps aside without a word, allowing us entry into the bowling alley. Varek stands near a wall covered with writing I can’t even begin to decipher. His massive frame appears even more imposing today. Beside him is Shanae, her piercing eyes appraising us as we enter, despite her small smile.
“Welcome,” Varek says, his voice low and resonant. “I trust you’ve had time to consider your position here.”
As far as greetings go, I suppose that one makes it clear what his priorities are.
Solan steps forwards. “We have concerns,” he starts, his tone measured but firm. “We’re willing to support the Riftborn, but our agenda isn’t to take down the monarchy.”
Shanae’s gaze sharpens, but Varek raises a hand, silencing whatever comment she might have made. “Not everyone here seeks the monarchy’s destruction,” he says slowly. “But you must understand, many do. This isn’t just about survival for them—it’s about freedom.”
I step in, my voice steady despite the nerves twisting in my gut. “We get that. But our priority is keeping Jamie safe. If that means staying here and pulling our weight, we’re willing to do that. But we’re not soldiers.”
Not technically true, I know, considering Solan’s job title and that Calythra is in training.
Varek’s silver eyes lock onto mine, piercing and sharp, his expression unreadable. He nods once, a slow, deliberate gesturethat carries weight, before looking away. “You’re a hunter, aren’t you?” His gaze is trained on Solan, calculating and curious. “Kelvarra.”
Solan tenses slightly, though his expression remains neutral. “I was. Once.”
I glance between them, reality setting in.“Shit,”I murmur through our bond.“When you left, youreallyleft. Will there be a warrant out for you or something?”
“And now you’re here, tied to a human and playing rebel,” Varek muses, his smirk sharp. “Interesting turn of events.”
As he speaks, Solan uses the bond to say,“I do not know warrant, but the queen’s soldiers will be looking for me.”He seems to hesitate.
“What?”I push. Everything about what’s happening here needs to be shared. There can be no holding back.
“If they find me, they will take me to the queen’s assembly and demand answers. It is unlikely they’ll let me leave, at least not without a way to ensure loyalty.”
“How?”Before he can respond, he focusses back on Varek.
“I’m here because I choose to be,” Solan replies, his voice carrying a quiet authority that silences any further probing.
Despite his calm demeanour, I can feel the undercurrent of tension in him through our bond. His voice is low and measured when he says, “I can offer what little insight I have. I worked outside the queendom, in the market town of Myra’s Crossing. It wasn’t the same as being within the sovereign state, but I observed enough to understand their methods.”
It’s a carefully chosen explanation vague enough to satisfy curiosity without revealing too much. What he doesn’t say is that his connection to the head merchant of that town—the man who is his sister’s father-in-law—is a secret he intends to keep. The rebels might see such a tie as a liability or a threat—though morelikely as something to be bargained with—and Solan knows better than to risk it.
Varek offers a smile, though it’s not one I wholly trust. “Any insight is valuable,” he says simply, though there’s an edge to his tone that suggests he’ll be keeping a close eye on Solan.
The heavy air between us doesn’t dissipate, though his demeanour shifts slightly. He tilts his head, studying us both for a moment before his lips curl into the faintest smirk. “Good. Then we’ll take you to Dathanor.”
He’s about to turn away when his gaze flicks back to me. His smirk deepens, a gleam of amusement flickering in his silver eyes. “Congratulations on completing your bond.”
Heat floods my face in an instant. I whip my head around to look at Solan, who seems utterly unbothered, his smug expression making my mortification ten times worse. I resist the urge to groan aloud.
“How does he know?”I ask through our link, my mental voice sharp and indignant.
Solan shrugs and speaks with the mental equivalent of a casual drawl,“Does it matter?”
“Yes!”I snap, glaring at him.
