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After I finished freshening up for the day, a soft tap knocked against the bedroom door. I peeked out the bathroom to find Azriel already heading toward the sound and the unexpected morning visitor.

“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice muttered through the open door.

“There was a…situation last night,” Azriel replied, his morning voice impossibly deeper than usual.

“Like when I first got here?”

“Worse.”

A long breath blew to fill the pause that followed. Azriel stretched and ran a hand through his tangled hair. One pass was all it took to make him look presentable again. I cleared my throat loudly from the bathroom door.

“Are you going to tell me who’s here or am I going to have to claw it out of you?” I said with a bitter grin as Azriel turned his attention towards the bathroom.

“Don’t even start—” He was cut off by a figure busting through the doorway, knocking him to the side.

Loren stood there with eyes wide in astonishment. “Arya!”

“Loren!” I found myself running for him, unable to hide the girlish shrill in my voice as my best friend lit up the room with his charming smile. I threw myself at his body, wrapping my arms around his neck as he returned my embrace. He kissed me softly against my temple like he always did.

“When Azriel told us he met you, I thought it was too good to be true.” He pushed against my shoulders to separate us, just an arm’s length away to study my face. “But when he told us you backhanded him in the clearing, I knew he found my girl.”

I laughed, remembering the blow well because I thought about it often. “They told me you were dead. Those were the worst weeks of my life, Lor, but I’m so happy they’re finally over.” I cried as he held my face in his hands.

Azriel muttered something about going across the hall, but I was too busy surveying every part of Loren’s face to acknowledge him. My brother was back in my arms, and I reveled in the joy it brought me to hear the sound of his voice again. It had only been a few weeks, but weeks felt like years under the mountain, and he had changed so much even in our short time apart. His blonde hair was cut shorter, his frame thicker under my grasp, and when I ran a trained eye over his body, I realized something else very different about him.

“Gods above, Loren, what happened to your leg?”

I had been so excited to see him, and him me, I didn’t notice the cane he walked with or the missing limb tied off by his pant leg. His right leg was gone, severed several inches above where his knee should have been.

“The vamp tore it apart. The healers tried everything they could to save it, but in the end, it put me more at risk for infection. There was no promise it would even function if they were able to heal it, so I told them to cut it off.” Loren shrugged, looking down. “I was pretty depressed about it when it first happened, but it doesn’t bother me much anymore. I never liked to run anyways.”

I bit my lip, not knowing quite what to say. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

He shrugged again and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Ladies love battle wounds, and now I can say I survived a fight with a vampyre.”

“Well, with your charm and your scars, you’ll have to fight them off with your cane at this rate.” I said, laughing at the visual.

“Or I’ll be too busy using it to fight off watchers sneaking into your bed.” He cocked an eyebrow at me and gestured his head toward the door, still cracked slightly from Azriel’s sudden exit. I waved off his concern and retreated to the chaise.

“I can handle myself, thank you very much. And weren’t you telling me I needed to get laid before you were chosen?” I said, falling into the velvet cushions.

“Aye, but not by one of them. I’m serious, Arya,” he replied as he strode to the couch sitting opposite me as the sound of his cane knocked wooden boards on the floor. “Watchers aren’t mortals. They’re ancient beings as old as the gods. Bad things have happened to humans who end up…involved with them.”

I let his warning sting something deep in my heart, but quickly shook it off. I had zero intention of becoming involved with anyone. “Don’t worry, Loren. He hasn’t charmed my pants off yet.”

“Really? Because it sure looks like he has,” he replied, glancing down at my bare legs.

“That’s not what I meant! My clothes are being washed so I just borrowed a shirt.”

My brother gave me a look as if to say he wasn’t born yesterday, knowing me better than I knew myself. I waved a hand to dismiss his concerns. “Look, something happened last night, and I needed him. The queen found me in my dreams, and she tormented me and trapped me in my own mind. Something about him feels safe—like he’s some kind of light warding against her darkness. I just feel better having him around until I know how to keep her out my head.”

He deliberated over my words, approving of my decision with a nod of his head. “She has a connection with her Chosen, but it gets fainter as time passes. I went through something similar, but I was so weak from losing my leg she probably thought I was going to die anyway.” He propped his foot up on the table between us. “I can stay with you if you’d like. I know I’m not a brooding, white-haired, half god, but I still have a wicked smolder.”

A smile touched my lips. “I’d love for you to stay. I think he’d like a break from me anyway.”

Loren rolled his eyes, his irritation palpable from across the room. “Trust me, he definitely doesn’t want a break from you.”

“Aww, are you jealous, Lor?” I batted my eyelashes teasingly, knowing the thought was ridiculous. My best friend had had more lovers over the years than I’d kept track of. I was sure it was his goal to fill his free time witheverysort of distraction.


Tags: Alexis L. Menard Fantasy