Page 54 of Above Cursed Winds

Because she couldn’t be that for him, and it was both a relief and a poison. She was cursed. Her future had shown one thing: she was fated to watch while her mate died, unable to save him. Jeremiah had suffered enough, and she’d never want to hurt him more. She’d deal with her jealousy and wish him happiness.

Zia carefully extracted herself from the bed, gently setting his head on a pillow instead of the cradle of her lap. Though he shifted slightly and reached out absently toward her, he didn’t wake.

The lights in the bathroom cast a yellow glare over the cabinets Jeremiah had finished. So many places in her house would always remind her of the Elemental, and how good he had been to them.

Tired features met her gaze in the vanity’s mirror, a weariness that hadn’t been there before. Jeremiah had carried his devastating secret for so long, and when he shared it with her, he’d shared some of the burden that accompanied it.

It was her privilege to help him carry it. The Elemental wasn’t going to be her mate. Key was never wrong in these matters. She would deal with the mixed feelings that came from that eventually. But in the meantime, there was no harm in a temporary reprieve.

Perhaps it’d do them both good.

Nero answered her telepathic hail moments after she sent it. He teleported into her kitchen, sporting a concerned smile as she moved to embrace him. He wrapped his arms around her.

“Sometimes, a hug can cure a thousand ills. I’m here, whatever you need.”

Zia brought out the peanut M&M’s. It had been their guilty pleasure for decades when life wore then down, and now she cherished the tradition. They both stood around her kitchen island, eating the candies, as Zia fought for the right words.

Nero offered her another outlet instead. “How’s the Elemental?”

“Sleeping,” she said, too fast. “He’s sleeping. Upstairs. He’s … not doing well. Blames himself for today.”

“I figured as much. He’s worn grief and self-hatred on his sleeve since the day Gideon almost died.” Nero popped a few M&M’s in his mouth.

“There’s a reason for that.”

Her sovereign perked. “He confided in you?”

After a moment, she nodded, but didn’t explain further. “It was a difficult day.”

“It was.”

Zia chewed on her candy before asking the question that’d burned inside her since she heard the news this morning. “Did Key know?”

“If she did, she didn’t tell me.”

There was something darker in Nero’s tone, a heaviness that seemed both weary and enraged, and the emotions were mirrored on his face. Zia had seldom seen anything similar from her sovereign. Caught off guard, she waited for him to continue.

“I love Key,” he began, “but trusting her through her riddles and obscure prophecies occasionally proves too much for me.”

Zia snorted. “You don’t have to tell me that, sovereign, much less apologize for it. We both live our lives based on what she’s foreseen, and neither of us have anything to show for it.”

She grabbed another handful of M&M’s and angrily shoved them into her mouth. Frustration stewed between them as Nero grew forlorn across from her.

“There was a point in my life where I trusted Key completely,” he admitted. “No reluctance. No hesitation. I’d jump when she said I had to jump.” He slumped back in his chair. “I’m ashamed to say I no longer feel that way.”

“She manipulates us all, sovereign.” She grimaced. “It’s a harsh word, but it’s true. Sometimes, it feels like we’re all flies caught in Key’s web.”

Nero nodded sadly. “It’s difficult to make leadership—or personal—decisions based on what little information she gives us. It’s infuriating at times.”

Zia studied him. Her sovereign had heard of his foretold mate when he’d been a youngling himself. He’d remained true to the woman Key had foreseen for him, trusting in the fate promised to him, yearning for her for over a thousand years.

“It feels like I’m waiting for my mate on a hope and a prayer,” Nero whispered. “I’m tired of waiting.”

The despair in his voice instantly set her feet in motion. Zia closed the distance between them and returned his earlier hug. After a moment, he reached and squeezed her forearm. It said more than words ever could.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

A cascade of silky hair caressed his skin when Jeremiah woke up. At some point during the night, Zia had left his side. He’d tossed and turned fitfully for several hours, and only found peace when she returned to bed.

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