Page 33 of Mastering their Maiden

Like she was drowning, sucking in deep breaths as she tried to keep her head above water.

I held my argument back, choosing instead to study her face, noting how the flush on her cheeks was softening. Her skin was paling. There was anger in her eyes, but they shimmered in the moonlight. Her whole body was vibrating with energy, but it wasn’t just rage. There was anxious tension in her face. Desperation.

She tried to get back to me.

I swallowed, and it hit me then that perhaps it wasn’t me, or Lavan, or even her new nephew that Aria was so angry at.

Perhaps it was the person she’d seen as a protector. The person she’d relied on.

The person she refused to believe would ever willingly leave her behind.

I pressed my lips together and took a cautious step closer to where she stood. “She did try to get back to you.”

Aria’s lips pulled back into a snarl, and she stalked toward me like she was ready to fight to the death over this. “I know she did, but Lavan captured her and kept her—”

“Lavan saved her.”

Aria opened her mouth to argue, but I kept going, wanting to push her toward a truth she didn’t want to see because it was painful. It was far easier to vilify us than to admit she was angry at the beloved sister who was taken from her.

“She would have never made it back to the village. There were Skepna crawling all over the forest that day. Daya was taken, Aria. They held her captive for five moons before her masters rescued her.”

My girl’s eyes widened, and the tension in her shoulders lessened ever so slightly. “You wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Of course not.”

“But you’re not sure you want her moving on without you.”

Her face scrunched up, and she leaned toward me, pulling her hand away from her chest to point at me. “I don’t want her held captive by brutes who—”

“Because if she moves on, that means she left you.”

Aria reeled back like I’d slapped her, eyes wide, the color draining from her face and chest so fast I reached out to steady her, worried her strong legs might actually give out. She sucked in a breath and jerked away from my touch.

“No. No, she… Esme didn’t want—”

“She knew what troubles you were facing here, begged me to keep you safe from them, but she didn’t come back to save you.”

“She…” Aria swallowed, rallying her strength. “She couldn’t. They wouldn’t let—”

“They wouldn’t let her because it wasn’t safe for her, which means it wasn’t safe for you.”

Aria sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn’t pull away when I reached out for her this time. “You’re angry at her,” I said, fully prepared for her to slap me. She even raised her hand back like she was going to do it, but instead her fingers trembled, and she gestured toward the village fence again.

“No.” She was trying so hard to put venom into the words, to deny the painful reality I’d laid at her feet. “I’m angry at Lavan and the other bastards who—”

“You can be angry at her and still love—”

“I’m not angry at her!”

“I know how it feels.”

Aria’s face twisted, and I grabbed her hand when she swung it toward my face, trying to lace my fingers between hers. “My uncle knew what kind of man Ryne was, and he left me with him. He didn’t fight to get me back.”

Aria froze, her eyes widening while I tried to keep my expression stoic. I swallowed, and she lowered her hand, her blue eyes flicking back and forth as we swapped places. It was her turn to study me now.

My chest tightened as she did. I hadn’t meant to say that, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.

The truth slipped out. A truth I fought to deny for so many years because what did that mean? How could I love my Uncle Draven—admire him—when he left me to be used as a pawn in Ryne’s quest for power?

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