Page 105 of Fallen Nocturne

What kind of person does that make me?

I press both hands over my face. Tears slip through my fingers before I can stop them. I scrub them away with the back of my hand, but more follow.

I am disgusting.

Landon has never been anything but good to me, and this is how I repay him. I cannot pretend the dream meant nothing when it felt so real. When he comes back, I have to tell him. He deserves the truth, even if it changes the way he looks at me.

Even if he hates me for it.

But not today.

Today is too important. Coral may finally have her chance to fly, and I cannot allow my guilt or my foolish dream to ruin it.

That means facing Arescaine while knowing exactly what he feels like in my dreams.

By the time I leave for the testing field, I have washed the tears from my face and tied my hair back. I tell myself I can stand beside him without remembering the dream.

I can look at his hands without thinking about where they touched me. I can hear my name in his voice without imagining it whispered in the dark.

I tell myself all of this until I almost believe it.

The testing field sits at the edge of Völundr, where the city gives way to open grassland and then abruptly ends at a cliff. It’s the same place where I trained with Landon, where Coral fell again and again trying to fly. But today feels different. Today carries the weight of possibility.

Arescaine arrives before dawn, carrying the wing brace wrapped in soft cloth. Coral is already waiting, pacing back and forth near the cliff edge with more energy than I’ve seen before.

Coral knows.

Somehow, my little wyvern knows today is important.

“Your Highness.” Arescaine inclines his head, formal and careful.

“You can call me Rhianelle like before,” I say before I can stop myself. “Please.”

Something flickers in his eyes, quick as a blink. Surprise, perhaps. Then he nods. “Rhianelle, then.”

My name in his voice fills me with warmth and unease at the same time.

He kneels beside Coral, unwrapping the brace with careful hands. In the early morning light, the metal gleams like silver, every joint and curve perfect. Coral sniffs it curiously, her tail wagging.

“Easy, girl,” Arescaine murmurs. “Let’s get you fitted properly.”

I watch as he begins the process of securing the brace to her body. He’s so gentle and careful.

“Can you hold her head?” he asks without looking up. “I need both hands for this part.”

I move in front of Coral, cradling her jaw. She leans into me, trusting. My heart aches with love for my beautiful wyvern.

Arescaine works behind her. I try not to stare at how the muscles in his forearms flex as he adjusts the tension on the wing frame. He pushes his hair back from his face. I have the sudden, vivid image of running my fingers through that dark hair and pulling him close—

Stop it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, mortified.

What is wrong with me? I have a mate. I have Landon and the golden string that hums steadily between us.

But when I open my eyes, Arescaine is right there. He is bent over Coral’s wing and I’m struck again by how beautiful he is. Dangerous, dark, utterly compelling. There’s something about the angle of his jaw, the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder, that makes me want to—

“There.” His voice startles me from my thoughts. “That should do it. How does it feel, Coral?”