Page 3 of King of Pride and Talons

“None of us are. It’s smart to keep them in your decision.”

Thorne kept his eyes distant and continued stroking his jaw. While in thought, he encircled Cassia—a habit of his lion’s stalking.

“Nonetheless,” he finally said. “I’m the king and I want my fated mate. I’ll handle the reaction of the pride after I’ve mated… Breya, is it?”

“Yes. But are you sure you can go against them if they disapprove? I don’t mean to overstep, but I do not think it wise.”

Before Thorne could protest, Cassia continued. “But it is your choice, and I will respect it. You are the king and, as you have said, you are allowed to make it. Here is her information.” She held out a folded piece of paper.

Thorne stopped pacing and snatched it, suddenly hungry for the details.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She turned again to leave, but Thorne grabbed the queen’s hand. “Sincerely. Both for understanding my desire for love over politics and for taking the initiative to find her for me. You are a valued ally, and I hope you can consider me a friend.” He kissed her hand, and a rose-tinted blush spread over her cheeks.

“Of course.”

As Cassia exited, Marshall entered.

“I need you to get a team together.” Thorne gave him the paper. “Get ready to go and fetch my mate.”

He watched his man walk away and doubt began to creep in. It was a foreign feeling for him.

Was he sure he was ready for this?

TWO

BREYA

“Try not to be so rough with them!”

Breya couldn’t help but smile at her sister’s warning as she watched her brother-in-law roughhouse in the backyard.

“At least you have a husband that interacts with his kids,” Breya commented before taking a sip of the water she had squeezed a lemon into. In the village, lemons were easy to come by since most everyone had a fruit tree along with their private garden.

Her sister, Anya, gave a raised-brow look before allowing a smile to settle onto her face. “True. I love him. I just can’t help but lecture him. He plays with the children so much rougher than I do.”

“I believe it’s a wife’s job to harass her husband, no matter the situation.” Breya chuckled.

“Well, it is now a lot clearer as to why you’re still on the market,” Anya teased before she settled into one of the two homemade rocking chairs on the back porch.

Breya went quiet as her face turned more serious.

“You know I’m not being serious, right?”

She looked over and saw Anya’s concerned look. Breya brushed her off.

“I know. It’s just something that’s been on my mind lately.”

“Oh?” Anya sat forward in her chair, suddenly very interested.

“Don’t look so amazed.” Breya laughed nervously. She hated talking about her love life, or lack thereof, especially with her sister. Or anyone.

Growing uncomfortable, Breya scooped up her dark curly hair into a messy bun. “It’s warm, isn’t it?”

“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easily. You started it. So out. What has been going on in that overworked head of yours to make you think about joining me in the mundaneness of family life? Is being a healer not as enjoyable as it seems to be?”

Her sister wasn’t being serious, but also there was a slight bitterness there. Even as sisters, their lives had two completely different callings from day one. Anya was a human who didn’t have to choose anything different than an ordinary life if she didn’t want to. And Breya was envious of that at times.

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