Page 77 of Winter's Fate

Hawk had the grace to look ashamed, his cheeks reddening. “Happily, it turns out we both have magic,” he said, neatly sidestepping the admission. “Undeniably complementary magic. Combined, we can face Queen Katrina. We can stop the mages from returning.”

Callum couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What theywere both saying, as if they were already a united front. Just as they had been during that fight, their magic blending together so effortlessly.

But she couldn’t marry Hawk. Not with the memory of her lips against his seared into his mind, the feel of her hips shifting beneath him, her hands on his body. Not when her laugh echoed in his ears, her teasing, her pain. Her power.

And she felt it, too. By the blazing demon mages, heknewthat she did.

“You can face her withoutmarrying,” Callum said. Surely they could. It was just magic, just an alliance. It should not necessitate them binding themselves to one another.

Laena pressed her lips together until they went white with the effort. He thought she might be trying not to cry. “But I do not think we can,” she whispered. “The Vales chose us to lead.”

And she felt an obligation, once more, to a crown she’d set aside. Not for her own sake, but for someone else’s.

Callum shook his head. She was not going to do this. She couldn’t sacrifice herself this way.

Laena blinked once, as if clearing the tears from her eyes, then turned back to Hawk. “I accept your proposal,” she said. “I’ll marry you.”

CHAPTER 33

Laena practically fled into the hall, leaving Hawk behind to make his wedding plans. She didn’t know what story he planned to tell his people, how he’d explain away her history with Ben. She didn’t even know how the king would have learned of Ben’s faithlessness. Katrina, most likely. He did say she’d been baiting him.

It was a good thing, truly. She could leave the details to the king, to his ready smile, his easy charm. He would work out what to tell his people about the foreign queen, and what had become of her famed lover. Perhaps he’d even tell some portion of the truth. A novel thought, indeed.

And with any luck, Hawk would rope Callum into staying behind to listen to him scheme until she’d had a chance to escape.

“Laena.”

His voice scraped through the empty corridor, digging a jab into her gut. No, she couldn’t expect Callum to allow her to flee in peace. There was nothing in his nature that gave up without a fight.

She would have felt his presence even had he not called outto her, even had she not recognized the firm confidence of his gait. She’d have felt the prickle of his presence. The depth of his dismay.

It wasn’t fair—he deserved an explanation—yet she quickened her pace, as if she could hope to escape facing him. Or put it off, at the very least. But he fell easily into step beside her, his pace measured where she was practically running, her skirts twisting a frenzy around her legs.

“What thehellwas that?” Callum’s voice was a rasp, with an unmistakable edge of anger, and it resonated in the empty hall. “You’ll marry him? Truly?”

He wanted her to stop walking. She could feel it in the way he lagged behind her by a step, the way he curled his fingers toward his palms as if to stop himself from reaching out to her. He’d saved her, in so many ways. And now she was betraying him.

“I failed Etra.” She didn’t quite mean to admit it, hadn’t intended to say the words out loud. But with Callum, she was finished pretending. She owed him that much, and more. Far more. “I gave up my crown and I left my people. And look at the result.”

“Laena.”

“And now there’s a path.” She’d begun speaking, so she might as well barrel on. Might as well spill the whole truth before it poisoned her from within. “There’s a path for me to make it right, to fix what I ruined. I have to take it.”

She couldn’t allow her determination to falter. She wouldn’t. She cared for him, truly she did. But abandoned or not, the weight of the crown remained heavy on her brow, on her conscience. There was no room for mistakes when she carried such dire responsibility upon her shoulders. She’d been a fool to ever think otherwise.

Callum did reach for her now, fingers closing around her elbow and forcing her to slow. She might have pulled away—sheknew him well enough to know that he would let her go—but she couldn’t quite bring herself to sacrifice this last touch, this last moment with him.

The hallway was deserted, with no one to see, though she knew well what hidden eyes a palace could hold. Anyone could be watching, from a shadowed alcove or a lofted perch.

And Callum knew it, too. He guided her toward the nearest door, one of several that dotted the corridor, now that she noticed them. She’d have walked by without seeing it at all, which she supposed was the point of the gray paint.

The door opened into a simple sitting room, with a liquor cabinet pushed against one wall, a cold hearth on the other. The only other furniture in the room was a round table with two wooden chairs, and a scrap of a rug by the entrance. Laena wondered what Hawk could possibly use a room like this for. Refreshments for the nobility who attended long presentations in the throne room? It hardly seemed large enough, or impressive enough.

Callum shut the door behind them. He was still holding her elbow, his fingers a gentle pressure through the fabric of her dress. “It’s a guards’ room,” he said, noting her confusion. “For meals and breaks.”

That made sense… mostly. She glanced at the liquor cabinet, a question on her lips, and he grimaced. “I am, occasionally, one of the guards.”

Ah. She licked her lips, her chest tight as she forced herself to look up, to meet his gaze. Whatever he wanted to say to her, she would listen. He deserved that much.

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