Chapter 190

Three days after the birthday celebration, the island felt different.

I could not pinpoint exactly what had changed, but the air seemed heavier, charged with an electricity that made my skin prickle. The birds were quieter, the wind stiller, as though nature itself held its breath, waiting for something inevitable to arrive.

I spent the morning in the lagoon with the Pearlings, their swimming now confident enough that they could circle me in playful loops, their mental voices chirping with delight as they showed off their new skills.

But even in the joy of my daughters, I could not shake the feeling of impending dread.

I emerged from the lagoon, my hair streaming water down my back, my body tired from the morning’s play with the Pearlings. The sun was high now, the heat of midday pressing down on the shore, and I reached for my towel, expecting to find it where I had left it.

Instead, I found Eryx.

He was walking toward me, his strides long and purposeful, his expression grim in a way that made me freeze, the towel forgotten in my hand. He had been looking for me, I realized. Not just looking, but seeking me out with urgency, his eyes scanning the water until they found me.

"Eryx?" I asked, my voice tentative, suddenly uneasy. "What is it?"

He stopped before me, his chest rising and falling as though he had been running, his amber eyes shadowed with worry. "Word came this morning," he said, his voice low, rough. "From Mirena. From Darius." He hesitated, his jaw tightening, his hands clenching at his sides. "Khemari is coming. Mirena said you’d know what I was talking about."

The name hit me like a physical blow. I had nearly forgotten, pushed the threat to the back of my mind in the joy of my daughters, in the chaos of birthdays and growing children. But now it returned, full force, the memory of Mirena’s warning, of the danger this male represented.

"He’s arriving today?" I asked, my voice hollow.

"Tonight," Eryx confirmed.

I shivered despite the warmth of the sun, water dripping from my hair onto the sand. "Mirena warned me about him," I said, my voice low. "She said he is bad. Cruel. That I should stay far away from him, that he takes what he wants without asking."

"You should stay away," Eryx agreed, his voice gentle. "But you won’t hide, will you? You are not a woman who hides, Krys. You never have been."

I looked at him, at the strength in his face, the loyalty that radiated from him like heat. He knew me. He knew me better than I sometimes knew myself.

"Then I will face him," I said, lifting my chin. "With my mates beside me. With my family around me. He cannot seek me, cannot claim me, if I am not alone. If I am guarded by those who love me."

Eryx smiled, small and sad, but his eyes burned with fierce promise. "No," he agreed. "He cannot touch you. Not while I breathe. Not while any of us breathe."

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a wet strand of hair from my face. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, and I felt something shift between us, some current that had been building for months, for nearly a years, since the first moment he had looked at me with eyes that saw too much.

"Eryx," I started, not knowing what I meant to say, only knowing that the moment felt fragile, important.

And then I tripped.

My foot caught on a root I had not seen, hidden beneath the sand, and I stumbled forward, my arms flailing, my balance completely lost. Eryx moved to catch me, but his own foot slipped on the wet shore, and instead of catching me, he fell backward, and I fell with him, landing squarely on top of him in a tangle of limbs and surprised gasps.

For a moment, we lay there, frozen.

I was sprawled across his chest, my hands braced on his shoulders, my face inches from his. I could feel his heart hammering against my palm, could feel the heat of him through his thin shirt, could smell the salt and earthy scent that was uniquely his. His arms had come up around me instinctively, holding me steady, and his face...

Gods, his face.

I had always known Eryx was handsome. He looked so similar to his brother Veylan, who was my mate, with the same sharp lines of jaw, the same warm silver eyes, the same strength in his body. But lying there on top of him, looking down at him, I saw it anew. The flush that crept up his neck, the way his lips parted slightly, the darkening of his eyes as he looked at me.

He was beautiful. Devastatingly so.

And I was mortified.

"Krys," he whispered, his voice rough, broken. "I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean... I tried to catch you and I..."

He was stuttering, I realized. Eryx, who was always so composed, so controlled, was stuttering beneath me, his hands trembling where they rested against my back, neither pushing me away nor pulling me closer.

"I’m sorry," I blurted out, my face burning. "I didn’t mean to... I tripped and..."

I couldn’t finish. The words died in my throat as I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw my own confusion reflected in his eyes. The want. The fear. The shyness that made us both freeze, uncertain, afraid to move.

"You’re..." I started, then stopped, my courage failing me. "You’re..."

"I’m sorry," he said again, his ears turning pink, his eyes dropping to my lips then darting away. "You should... we should... your mates might see. I shouldn’t have... I mean I didn’t... but they might think..."

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but I understood. I understood the danger of the moment, the temptation, the line we were hovering on the edge of. With a grace I did not feel, I pushed myself up, scrambling off him, my own face burning with embarrassment and something else, something I did not want to name.

Eryx sat up, his movements jerky, uncoordinated. He would not look at me, his eyes fixed on the sand, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair.

"I’m sorry," he said a third time, his voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean for that to happen. I shouldn’t have... I mean I tried to help but..."

"You didn’t do anything wrong," I said, my voice small, shy, completely unlike my usual self. "I fell. You tried to catch me. That’s all."

"That’s all," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, and I heard the longing in it, the question he was too afraid to ask.

"That’s all," I confirmed, though my heart was hammering, though my skin felt too tight, though every instinct screamed at me to reach for him, to touch him again, to see if the spark I had felt was real or imagined.

We stood there in awkward silence, the moment stretching between us, charged and fragile. Then Eryx cleared his throat, his composure slowly returning, though his ears were still pink and he would not meet my eyes.

"I should go," he said, his voice rough. "I should tell the others. About Khemari."

"Yes," I agreed, my voice barely audible. "You should."

---

The evening arrived like a storm front, dark and heavy and inevitable.

I dressed as simply as I had promised, in a plain tunic of undyed linen, my hair pulled back in a severe braid, no jewelry, no adornment. I wanted to be unremarkable, invisible, just another face in the crowd. But when I looked in the mirror, I knew I had failed. The plain clothes only emphasized the richness of my skin, the brightness of my eyes, the curves of my body that had softened and strengthened from motherhood.

I looked like a woman who had been loved well, who had borne children, who was confident in her place in the world. And that, I realized, was more attractive than any finery could ever be.

My mates gathered around me, a wall of protection and support. Leon, fierce and dark, his hand on his sword. Ravin, golden and watchful, his eyes scanning the horizon. Veylan, silver and silent, his power coiled and ready. Soryn, green and graceful, his serpent nature making him tense and alert. Aureon, solid and steady, his tiger strength evident in every line of his body. And Caelion, blue and beautiful, ready to pull me to safety if needed.

"He comes," Caelion said, his voice carrying across the dusk, sharp and clear as a bell.

We turned as one, the entire family, watching the horizon where the sun bled into the sea in shades of crimson and gold. At first, I saw nothing but the shimmer of water, the dance of light on waves. Then the surface broke, and I saw them.

Sea lions.

Not one or two, but a full pod, their dark heads cutting through the water with predatory grace. They moved in perfect synchrony, their bodies gliding through the twilight sea like shadows given form, their course unwavering, their purpose clear. They were escorting something. Someone.

And at the prow of their formation, riding the largest sea lion like a king upon his throne, stood Khemari.

He was beautiful... and I hated that he was beautiful.