“Lunelle,” Mirquios whispered, his eyes as wide as hers, breath just as stilted.
“I don’t—I don’t understand! Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, my gods, how? My sister! You’re Tethered to Astra!”
Lunelle grasped at the space between them, sure she’d be able to pluck it away from her like a piece of lint.
“Right,” Mirquios said, a hesitation beneath his words she could not unhear. “No, Lunelle, wait. I can explain?—”
“There is nothing toexplain, Your Highness,” she said through clenched teeth, backing away from him. “This—this is impossible. This cannot happen. You belong to my sister, no matter what you two have agreed upon, this does not change that.”
Lunelle fought back a sob, the overwhelm of the Tether setting her entire Soul on fire.
“Yes,” he agreed, his hand rubbing at the bruise on his chest.
Lunelle did not bid him farewell.
She did not ask questions she did not want to know the answers to.
She did not risk looking into those dazzling eyes once more as she opened his door.
She felt it, the release on the cord between them as he moved to follow her.
“Do not,” she choked. “Please.”
She felt every ragged breath he released as she ran, fighting every instinct that begged her to retreat, to run back into his arms the entire way.
ChapterSixteen
Lunelle aimed to get back to her room, where she could panic in private.
And yet, the madness within her pushed her feet toward the eastern wing of the palace, where two guards flanked the ornate bronze doors of the prince’s chambers.
As she approached, they did not ask questions. They merely pulled back the heavy door, welcoming her in.
She’d been expected.
She wasn’t sure what disturbed her more, that she’d made herself into the prince’s plaything or that she’d just committed the deepest betrayal of her sister without intending to.
It did not matter.
Both suffocated her as she entered his chambers.
Arcas was not in the massive bed to her right, layered with plush quilts and pillows. Candlelight flickered on one nightstand—that must have been his side, she noted.
Her stomach twisted in knots as she stepped further into the room, deep blue velvets and black silks creating a dark, lush space. The doors at the far end were flung open, letting the Autumn air float across the dark marble. His slender frame appeared in the doorway, lit by the rainbow aurora of the Rift behind him.
He looked more like a deity than a man.
And that was a dangerous line of thinking.
He was only in a pair of soft sleep pants, the rest of him exposed to the starry sky above.
“Lunelle.”
“Arcas,” she muttered. His name was a curse—a means to an end. She was so utterly thrown by the Tether in her chest, so miserable under its strain that she would have done anything to forget about it.
And she was about to.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.”
