Page 117 of Fallen Nocturne

I stare at her.

What?

She almost kissed him?

All this crying. All this guilt. The dread I felt through the bond. I had prepared myself to hear that she had returned to his bed or remembered enough to choose him openly.

But they did not even kiss.

I marvel at her, the silver-haired Elven Queen. My mate chosen by Fate. Even the thought of deceiving me was unbearable to her.

I close the distance between us and take her face in my hands. Tears cling to her cheeks. I brush them away with my thumbs. Her pulse flutters beneath my fingertips as I lean closer, and she goes still.

A selfish thought rises inside me.

I want her.

Fate chose her for me. The golden string binds us. For once, I want to stop surrendering every piece of her to a past she cannot even remember.

I’ve been holding back for weeks, feeling the bond pull tighter every day while she stayed just out of reach. Now, with her confession hanging between us and her gaze locked on mine, I stop holding back.

I kiss her.

She makes a startled sound against my mouth, her hands coming up to my chest.

And gods, she’s perfect.

Her lips are soft and yielding. She tastes like honey and summer. The mate bond flares between us, singing with approval, flooding us both with warmth.

This is what fate intended. This perfect alignment of two souls.

But beneath the warmth, I feel something else.

The hesitation. The confusion. The part of her that’s holding back because her heart is somewhere else.

I pull back, breathing hard. I rest my forehead against hers. Rhianelle’s eyes are open, her face flushed, her lips swollen from my kiss.

“Landon,” she whispers.

Neither of us says it aloud, but the truth settles between us.

Fate cannot command her heart to forget the person she chose for herself. Rhianelle searches my face, and I know she understands it too.

I step back, putting distance between us. The mate bond protests, pulling tight inside my chest, but I ignore it.

“I have to go,” I say quickly. “I came back because I needed to tell you that I am returning to Avalon.”

“What?” She stares at me as though she must have misunderstood. “You only just returned.”

“I received a message from the Fae King. He’s summoning me back to court.” I reach inside my riding coat and remove the folded letter. “Eirik claims he will pardon me and every warrior who followed me.”

Rhianelle’s gaze drops to the royal seal. “You believe him?”

Her expression shifts from confused to alarmed. “No, you can’t go back there. He tried to kill you. Eirik sent you on that mission knowing it was a trap.”

“I know.” The admission tastes bitter.

“Then why would you—”