Right. Focus.
The other two occupants, both Glowranth, are still watching Kael like he’s about to draw his sword. One of them murmurs something low and urgent in Glowranthian, and I catch the word “heir.”
“Wait,” I say, snapping my gaze to Pax. “You know Prince Aelith’s missing, right? Like, probably dying?” Which of course they don’t know the latter beyond my verbal diarrhea, but still, this shit right here is tedious. “And his unbonded fated mate is human. Dawson. He’s barely hanging on either.”
Shock ripples through the room. Pax stiffens. Then he snorts. “Of course it’s a human.” His mouth curls into something almost cruel. “The prince. The one who demanded Riftborn be shackled the moment they stumbled into Terrafeara. The heir to a throne built not just on the bones but the backs of those they enslaved. Who sanctioned cruelty and collars and turned entire species into property. And now his life is tied to a human?” The laugh that follows is bitter. Harsh.
And it pisses me off.
“Okay, yeah, sure,” I snap. “The prince was a raging arsehole. Not denying that. But he’s also barely alive. His mate, Dawson, who’s a really nice fucking guy, is worse. So maybe show a little fucking compassion.”
That earns me a blink and then a slow, assessing look. “Huh.”
“What?”
“You’re mouthy.”
“Thanks.”
“And Aussie.” He bobs his head. “A refreshing surprise.” Before I can respond, he turns back to Varek, eyes narrowing. “You haven’t told them, have you?”
Varek doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. But I can feel the change in him. He’s stiff. Closed off. Like a man preparing to break.
I frown. “Told us what?” Pax’s laugh this time has no humour. “Care to share with the class?” I add, annoyed.
He crosses his arms and tilts his head at Varek. The silence stretches. Then Pax sighs and looks me dead in the eye. “Varek is my fated mate.”
My jaw drops. “Wait. What?”
No one answers me, which I get, since I suppose I’m not the most important person in the room, and Pax simply continues shouting shit in Varek’s direction.
Varek looks like he’s been gutted. At first, Pax’s cold cruelty seems to roll right off him, but then I see it—the tightness in his jaw, the twitch in his fingers. He’s not immune. He’s just holding it in.
And Pax doesn’t let up.
“Shouldn’t have come,” he snaps, turning his back on us. “I’m not interested in your excuses or your mission. You’re on your own.”
My chest clenches. I glance at Varek. The guy looks… defeated. And it makes something twist deep in my gut. I suppose Pax has every right to be angry—but this level of venom? It’s cruel.
Kael, sensing the shift in me, gently brushes his energy against mine. It’s soft, steadying, and I lean into it instinctively.
“Pax,” I say, voice firmer than I expect. “You might think you’re justified, and maybe you are, because abandoning your fated mate, it’s shit. I know what it’s like to be left behind. And honestly?” I shoot Varek a sideways glance. “I have no idea why Varek did that to you?—”
Pax turns, eyes flashing. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
But Varek doesn’t lash out. Doesn’t rage. Hell, he doesn’t confirm, deny, or even explain. Instead, he looks gutted—utterly wrecked. Like the ground’s crumbled beneath him, and he’s still trying to stand.
“I wanted it to work,” he says quietly, pain threading every syllable and surprising the shit outta me. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came because I thought maybe… maybe you regretted turning me away.”
My brows shoot high at that. Holy shit. Apparently, we all have ulterior motives.
Pax’s jaw clenches. His eyes darken, something volatile burning there.
“You didn’t even give us a chance,” Varek continues, voice low, almost pleading. “You didn’t ask questions, didn’t want to hear anything. You demanded I leave, and I did—because it’s what you said you wanted.”
The room pulses with silence. Bloody hell. I got that wrong, then. Varek didn’t abandon Pax at all. Guilt shifts uncomfortably in my chest that I immediately thought a human would be the one wronged. And that I thought Varek was the shitty party—the person who I trust and owe my life to—I think that makes me a shitty friend.
I watch on as Pax’s face twists into something venomous, his voice sharp enough to wound. “You killed my husband.”
