He chuckled a dark laugh, reaching up to untie his hair and adjusting his pants lower on his hips.
“Who’s being unfair now?” I scoffed, taking in his fucking delicious body for everything it was worth. My arousal sparked as I drank in the sight of him. The Gods themselves could not have made a more perfect male body. He was so handsome it was a crime.
“Over here.” He inclined his head, leading me to the far corner. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Waving his hand, the illusion of the wall melted away, revealing a hidden cubby with a pure white stone the size of a small pebble nestled in the middle of a jet-black velvet pillow. I stepped closer, mesmerized by the beautiful swirls of silver etched along the edges, with glittering specks dancing along the surface. It was small, able to fit in the palm of my hand, yet I could feel the strong magic swirling around it.
“What is it, Dax?”
“A very rare trinket, a memory stone. This was my mother’s most prized possession, aside from the silver bow that you now carry.”
I remember when he first gifted me the silver bow andthentold me its significance to him and his family. At first, I tried to refuse the gift, but it kept appearing in our training sessions. And I had to admit, no other bows could compare. Its strength, flexibility, and weight were perfect.
“I can’t believe you let me use it when we first arrived in the Inner Kingdom without telling me it belonged to your mother,” I said. “Castor’s surprised look makes so much more sense now.”
“He understood the reason why I gave it to you.”
“Hedid. And apparently, everyone else in your inner circle besides me.”
I learned that Daxton confessed the mate bond to Castor the first night after I snuck into the alpha’s house to heal him. Later, when we arrived in Crimson City, he told Adohan, Idris, and finally Zola.
Gunnar admitted he didn’t need to be told. “The way he looked at you without you ever noticing told me everything,” Gunnar said. “It was obvious that Daxton had fallen in love with you before ever bringing you to Silver Meadows.”
I was shocked at the depth of Gunnar’s confession, and when I told him just that, he scoffed at me despite my apology and grudgingly sulked for a few days.
“We used to have four memory stones,” Dax continued. “But when my parents died, and through the war, three of them disappeared.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Dax.” He shrugged nonchalantly, accepting my sympathy but not dwelling on it. “What do they do exactly?”
“They’re magical stones that hold memories. If you offer one worthy enough to the stone, it will grant you access to the memories stored within. Ironically, the smaller the stone, the more powerful it is and the more memories it can hold.”
“Interesting,” I said, tilting my head to inspect it further. “Have you offered a memory to this stone?”
“A small handful through the centuries, yes. One more recently,” Daxton admitted, standing behind me and watching me admire the stone.
“Which one?” I asked, my curiosity spinning, desperate to know which memory he would offer to this precious stone to be kept for all eternity. “The bathhouse?” I teased.
He merely chuckled in response.
“When I emerged victorious from the first trial? The first night we met when I almost killed you?” I asked.
“Those are excellent guesses, but no.” His outstretched hand gently cradled the stone. “I believe you’ll have to offer one to see it,” he answered with a cunning smile.
Grasping the stone, I knew which one I would choose. I willed myself to sink back into one of the darkest times of my mortal life to a moment when I was sure it was over.
“May I see it with you?” Daxton asked.
I nodded. “You’re the only one I would ever dare to share this with.”
I allowed my mind to wander into darkness—into the place I swore I would never return.
I was in Blade’s torture chamber after he struck me with his iron-tipped whip. Diving into this memory was almost harder than living it. I remembered how alone I felt. The pain muffled to a dull ache that covered every inch of my body. I was in so much agony I almost didn’t register the feeling anymore.
But the worst was realizing that the fight to stay alive was fading. That was the most terrifying piece of all. At that moment, I no longer wanted to breathe. I no longer wanted to live. I had given up, and death’s door was opening.
And then, I heard a call.
A familiar melody that sang to my soul, forcing my primal instinct to emerge and willing me to fight against death’s pull, convincing me to come back to the world of the living. It was him. His magic, his essence, raced through the abyss of darkness to find me. Daxton was my salvation, calling me back from death’s crossing.