Page 101 of Fate

But she curled her fingers. Brought it back against her side.

It troubled Firen how quickly a firmnocame to her lips. She wanted no part of bitterness. Of resentment. But she would not be gullible, either.

She’d accept no invitation to that tower. She would not be pinned in alone, walked to her own slaughter. Or perhaps worse, if the damage they meant was for the bond alone.

Except...

Would that even matter any longer? She would miss it. Desperately so, if it was damaged. Or if it was absent entirely.

But the love she felt for Lucian came from her own emotions, not the twist and pull of the bond. The life she wanted with him was for its own sake, not a matter of compulsion.

It was a strange sort of comfort, but it allowed her to nod her head and step out of the stall, glancing briefly at her mother in case she had any objections. “To the end of the row and back,”Firen declared, feeling silly and overly cautious, but wanting someone to know where they might be together.

It was not the answer she wanted, but Ellena still appeared relieved she was being granted anything at all. Firen didn’t like how she felt. Didn’t like how her heart quickened, not in the way her heart sped when Lucian walked in their door. But rather...

What it meant to have power over someone. To grant a desire or to withhold it. For their happiness to depend on an answer only she could give.

Her lips thinned as she stepped out of the stall. Gracious in all things. Protective of Lucian. Of her own family.

That was allowed.

Being cruel was not.

Old habits made her want to fill the silence. To prattle about something while Ellena’s eyes darted about, fingers twisting together in front of her. It took a great deal to keep quiet, to allow her to lead them. Her pace was so slow it was almost laughable, but Firen supposed it was to extend what time she’d been allowed while she collected herself.

“Is he well?” she blurted out at last.

All else aside, this was still his mother. She had been the one to carry him, to nurse him, and she could not help the mate chosen as his sire. That did not excuse everything, not by half, but it made it easier for her answer to come without even a twist of resentment. “Yes.”

Ellena nodded, a wistful sort of smile on her face. Perhaps remembering when she would have been the one to know it for herself, for access to her son to come without need of an intermediary.

“Why did you seek me out?” Firen asked, finding that mattered to her. “You know where to find him.”

Ellena smoothed a hand down her overdress. Deeply coloured—not quite charcoal, not quite violet. Some murkyin between that was striking, if not pretty. “Spouses are not permitted in the Hall. Surely you know that.” Her eyes narrowed, and she halted in her steps. “You have not embarrassed him by trespassing, have you?”

Firen took a breath. Then another for good measure. “I have been to the Hall,” she answered her as calmly as she was able. “I have taken tea and been given all sorts of pamphlets so I might be as informed as I ought to be. As all of you should have been.” She kept moving, but not at a quick pace. Ellena could catch up with little effort, although she still appeared scandalised by Firen’s confession. “Did you know your mate was stealing from your son? Lucian didn’t. It hurt him rather badly when he learned of it.”

She took yet another breath because her tone had strayed from the kindly one she was determined to offer.

“Oberon is many things, but a thief is not one of them.”

Firen’s wings rose and fell. “All right.”

She did not need this woman to believe her. It made it no less true, regardless of what she thought.

But Ellena appeared troubled, her mouth opening and closing again, her fingers abandoning their tangle to form into fists at her side. “I came,” she managed at last. “To invite you back to the tower.”

Firen willed her stomach not to fill with dread. It would not happen—they agreed. She had nothing to fear from a simple invitation. “I thank you, but no.”

For a brief moment, Ellena scowled, but she quickly hid it away again. “You will not even present it to my son? You would answer for him?”

Firen looked up at the sky. She’d wanted patience, and she was evidently going to earn it through constant practice. “I will tell him everything we’ve spoken about,” she answered honestly. “But I would save you the trouble of hoping. We are happy wherewe are. I do not feel safe in your tower, and that matters to your son, even if it means nothing to you.”

A vendor called out to them to come see their wares, but both women ignored him. “It is... unfortunate. The things you heard. But they were exaggerated. Spoken out of too many spirits and too little thought given to their consequence.” She reached out and took hold of Firen’s arm. “There is no such ability. I promise you, this. Your bond is safe.Youare safe. I just...” Her grip tightened, but then she seemed to recognise what she was doing and released her hold. “I want my son home.”

A motherly plea.

As if...

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