Page 115 of Fallen Nocturne

The impact of Dorcha's landing travels up through my legs. I free my boots from the stirrups and swing down. I unbuckle my riding gloves and tuck them into my belt. My fingers rake through my wind-tangled hair. After nine days on the road, I probably look terrible.

Rhianelle takes another step toward me, then stops.

For one hopeful moment, I think she might throw herself into my arms. Instead, she clasps her hands tightly in front of her. Her eyes are red around the edges.

Something happened while I was gone.

“Landon.” My name leaves her lips unsteadily. She stops a few feet away, her hands twisting together. “You’re back.”

“I am.” I try for a smile. “It was a long flight.”

Her mouth trembles like she wants to return it. “Was it difficult?”

“Nothing Dorcha and I couldn’t handle.” I study her face. “Rhianelle, what’s wrong?”

Tell her the news, Dorcha urges through the bond. Hurry.

I will. Go and eat. I send down the bond.

Dorcha looks between us, sensing the tension. Then she lowers her head and lumbers toward the feeding area, giving us the privacy Rhianelle clearly needs.

I offer Rhianelle my arm. Even through the layers of fabric, I feel the tremor in her touch.

We walk in silence through the gardens, past roses that are just beginning to bloom. The mate bond thrums between us, weighted with whatever burden she’s carrying.

Finally, she stops near a bench hidden behind climbing ivy. No one can see us here. Not a single guard or courtier.

“I need to tell you something.” Her fingers tighten around my sleeve before she forces herself to release me.

Her voice is barely more than a whisper. She releases my arm and turns away, staring at the ivy-covered wall.

“I have been having dreams,” she starts, then presses her lips together. “I’m embarrassed even saying it.”

“Tell me anyway,” I say.

“I’ve been having strange dreams about someone.” She stops.

I wait.

She presses her palms against the sides of her dress. “They began before you left. I thought they were meaningless at first.”

Her cheeks darken. She cannot look at me. “There was a man in that dream. He wore a mask, so I could not see his face. I did not know who he was, but every time I saw him, it felt as though I had been searching for him for my entire life.”

My stomach tightens. I already know the name she is about to speak.

“When I removed his mask, he looked like Arescaine,” she says.

The name on her lips sends an irrational spike of jealousy through me, but I force my expression to remain neutral. “I know.”

Her head snaps up. “You know?”

“Not the specifics.” I keep my voice even. “But I can feel you through the bond. I can feel when you are happy. When you are afraid. When you are confused. When you—”

I hesitate for a beat. “When you want someone else.”

The shame that crosses her face makes me regret the words immediately. I force myself to stay still, to let her speak.

“Landon, I am so sorry. Fate gave me someone like you, yet my thoughts keep turning toward him.” She covers her mouth, fighting a sob. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”