Page 30 of Mastering their Maiden
Perhaps they all did.
I rolled my lips, looking down at the new sheets of parchment I’d gotten this morning. Letters from Quade and from Draven, the latter delivered by some of the men Niall and the other masters had sent down to help out with procurement in the northern village. On the bottom of that pile was another letter from Ryne whining about how he was losing control. He was getting frantic, which was dangerous. The more he lost his grip on power, the more unhinged steps he’d take to keep it. Which was why I couldn’t worry about the potential problems that could come from Aria learning how to spar. I had to focus on this.
That was what I kept telling myself. A few days from now, she would be in our bed spread out for the four of us to claim. Hopefully, that would satisfy our cravings—my cravings—long enough to focus on the more important task of reclaiming our kingdom.
But from what I knew from others who’d had the rite with their maidens, this was purely wishful thinking. I knew how the Moonlight Rite increased our physical strength and prowess, therefore increasing our desire. I knew, from living in Magilin all my life, that the first few weeks after masters brought home their maidens they could focus on little else. The craving for them, and often for their partners, became their sole focus. Bonds were formed and solidified through physical touch and the emotions that followed it.
I’d had this experience with Umber, Dex, and Zander. I knew how distracting it was to be swept up in desire. Quade, Lavan, and Viggo knew it, too. I remembered when they brought their maiden home, how their bond had opened to envelop her completely, turning three into four.
And now, according to the letter on the top of my pile, four had become five.
Aria’s sister had given birth to a healthy baby boy. One who, according to Viggo, carried his mother’s dark, mahogany hair and his father’s golden eyes. At least for now. Hair color could change, but Viggo’s letter expressed the hope that it wouldn’t.
I could sense the joy in each stroke of ink on the parchment, and I wanted to see my friends face to face and congratulate them. Quade, Lavan, and Viggo had wanted this for a very long time. They were smitten, as were Blaise, Klev, and Indre with their newborn son. Their maiden Talia had delivered so close to Esme, and I knew Draven’s Daya was set to give birth any day now. So many new members of our tribe. I wanted to celebrate.
I would celebrate. And soon. Viggo said as soon as the women felt up to travel with their new babes, they would start their trek to meet us, then we would head to Magilin to face Ryne for the final time.
Staring down at the letter, I noticed a drawing Lavan had added. It was of Quade curled up beside Esme, his arm tucked around her shoulders to keep her close. Her shoulders were bare, and the baby was curled up, face nestled in her breasts. The look on her face was filled with adoration. So much joy in a simple pencil sketch.
It seemed wrong to keep it to myself.
Umber, Zander, and Dex were volleying between actual conversation and arguing about which one of us was going to be Aria’s favorite. As if that mattered in the end. I grumbled to myself as I stood up, passing by them as I walked toward the door.
“Hey, it’s my night!” Umber protested, but I waved him off.
“I have some news I want to share with her, and you all need to get some sleep.”
The door shut on Umber’s pouting face, and I smiled to myself. They’d all gotten to go out with Aria in the woods plenty of times over the last week or so. I’d only been out once, by my choice, but I wanted to spend time with her tonight. I wanted to be the one to share the news that her sister had given us something incredible.
Life. A new member of our tribe.
A tribe she’d be joining during the full moon.
I found Aria by the fence, and her eyebrows lifted when she saw me approach. “Well, what have I done to earn this honor?” she asked, and I narrowed my eyes at the mocking tone in her voice. “You’ve rarely left that cabin this past week.”
“You’ll be occupying it with us soon.” I moved close to her, and she folded her arms over her chest, meeting my narrowed eyes with a challenging glare. I’d gotten so used to that expression, and what tended to come after it, that my lips lifted into a small but fond smile. “How long do you plan on fighting us, Aleria?”
“As long as it takes for you to stop calling me princess,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “From what I’ve gleaned, if things go your way, there won’t be one king, there will be a group of men ruling. So how could I even be a princess in that case?”
I shrugged, pulling the parchment from my pocket. “Kings and queens and princesses aside, there is one new title you’ve earned.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Aunt.”
There was a beat of silence, during which Aria’s eyes widened in shock. She looked down at the letter in my hands, then snatched the parchment and turned her back on me.
I waited, watching her unfold the parchment with shaky hands. Her shoulders were tense, hands trembling violently. She regarded the letter as though it might burn her if she held it too long.
Seconds passed, and eventually I moved to stand beside her, pausing when I took in the pained expression on her face. I could feel the tension rolling off her. So thick my hands tensed at my sides. She was upset. Angry.
She should be happy, shouldn’t she?
I thought she would be. Her sister was safe. She’d given birth. She was treasured and honored. The same way Aria would be when she birthed our child.
But as Aria’s eyes fixed on the drawing, I knew happiness wasn’t the emotion swirling inside her.
She turned sharply away from me, and before I could react, she threw the parchment at my feet. I bent to grab the letter, and by the time I stood back up she’d stalked to the fence. She grabbed the loose slat, and I watched her arms flex and shake. Gods be damned, she was strong. The broken slat was high enough for her to duck underneath, which is exactly what she did. I caught it and followed after, jogging to keep up as she trudged through the underbrush that surrounded the fence.
