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August 11 - August 25, 2025
Wilder nearly laughed. Thea didn’t have a pocket of calm in her entire body; she was a living storm of chaos.
‘Does it scare you?’ Thea asked softly, staring into the darkening sky. ‘That I could split the world in two?’ Wilder went to her, matching the intensity of her gaze. ‘Nothing about you scares me.’
‘I want to see it.’ ‘And I want a hot stone massage and a bottle of Valian wine,’ Wilder quipped. ‘Alas, we can’t always get what we want.’
Wilder went to her, wrapping his arms around her without hesitation. ‘You’re safe.’ But when she looked at him, her eyes were still filled with terror. ‘I’m safe,’ he assured her.
Friends. They were friends. And friends were there for one another. Friends comforted each other. But the thunderous beat in his chest and the urge to breathe in her scent betrayed him. He didn’t care. He brought her trembling body to his, hoping that his warmth would help steady her. He’d deal with the consequences of their friendship in the morning, but for now – for now he just wanted to be there for her. And so Wilder held his apprentice through the night.
She never flinched, never hesitated, never gave up, and Wilder couldn’t help the swell of pride in his chest at that.
She’d worn him down, though, and eventually, she’d found a weak spot in his armour. She’d seen him – the real him. And what she’d seen hadn’t scared her. Instead, Thea had given him a gift… She’d shared herself with him. She’d found her place under his skin and in his heart, and there she’d stayed, despite whatever vows they’d made.
Her trembling intake of breath told him he had no idea how close to tears she was. He’d never seen her cry before… How was that possible after everything they’d been through together?
He did the only thing he could think of. He winked at her, and laughed as he touched a hand to the minor cut. ‘This? This is practically foreplay.’ Thea slowly blinked at him. ‘You’re sick.’ He offered a lazy grin. ‘If only you knew.’
His heart lifted at that, revelling in the knowledge that he had the power to banish her monsters. That he was the one to make her smile. Then his thoughts went south. Gods, that mouth… He wanted her to do wicked things with that mouth. Friends, he reminded himself.
There you are, Princess.
Her words were like a deep slice to his gut, and inwardly he cursed that fucking fate stone around her neck and the bitch of a seer who’d given it to her.
He had to stop himself from grinning like a fool as they worked their way through the finer points of his lessons. For beyond everything he knew about Thea – her beauty, her sharp tongue, her determination – he thoroughly enjoyed her company. She made him laugh, made him want to participate in the world around him, not just carve out wraith hearts alone in the dark. Even the silence between them was easy and comfortable; each other’s company was more than enough, and words weren’t always needed.
Wilder shared his knowledge with her, but Furies, did he miss her. There was a new type of closeness forming between them now and it showed him what she had become to him in those months before the initiation test. Every instinct within told him to reach out to her, to lay everything bare.
Wilder had to bite back a laugh. He liked that she pushed him, that she didn’t take his moody shit.
‘Tell me the whole truth or none at all,’ she said. ‘And if I said none at all?’ ‘Then I’d call you a bastard and be done with it.’
He couldn’t tell her about them, not yet. If he was wrong about the half-wraiths, it would put her in direct danger, and if he was right… Well, fuck – if he was right, he didn’t know what it might mean for her, for the midrealms.
Gods, he wanted to tell her to trust him, that he could feel it in his bones that she would be something great; something the midrealms had never seen before. But those were not the words of a mentor. They were the words of a lover, and he was that no longer, if he had ever truly been.
‘What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Braiding your hair?’ Thea scoffed. ‘I’d like to see you try with those big fingers of yours.’ ‘You didn’t seem to mind these big fingers when —’ He cut himself off, instantly horrified. He’d completely forgotten himself. The words had just flown out. Thea was staring at him, her mouth slightly open. Heat bloomed in his cheeks and he started to stammer. ‘I – I didn’t mean —’ But Thea only gaped at him a moment longer before she threw her head back and laughed. The sound was rich and deep. She actually clutched her stomach. ‘Here I was thinking
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He was fucked. Well and truly fucked. Because the way he burned for her… No vows, no notion of duty – nothing – could stop it.
‘Audra says my family were tyrants…’ ‘They’re not your family. Just people you’re related to.’ ‘Oh?’ ‘Wren, Cal and Kipp? They’re your true family. The one you chose.’ Thea fought against the heat building behind her eyes. She wanted to ask, What about you? But the words wouldn’t come.
For all that had come to pass between them, she knew one thing: when he was with her, he had her back, always. And though she missed him, though she longed to breathe him in and lean into his embrace, to have him at her side in any capacity made her stronger. And that thought, more than anything else, comforted her now.
Gods, she longed for there to be no walls between them, for it to be just the two of them against the world. But perhaps it was too late for that now. Now, they walked a different path.
It seems that they want to know what you’re capable of,’ Wilder allowed. ‘Good.’ Thea met his gaze with nothing but unflinching steel in her eyes. ‘Now they know to fear me.’
It had hurt him. And that had unlocked something inside her, rendering her incapable of conscious thought. She had moved on instinct then, funnelling that fear for Wilder into something more powerful, more deadly – rage.
In rage she found her magic. In rage she summoned the storms and wrought them upon the enemy. There had been no strategy, no caution, only action. Only lightning in her veins and thunder in her heart.
Now, it knew not only of her strength… But of her weakness, too. Wilder Hawthorne.
It’s a little different when you’re treating yourself, Warsword. We don’t all just dump a bunch of liquor on it and call it a day.’
‘Jealous you don’t have any friends?’ she teased. Wilder chuckled. ‘Says my self-proclaimed friend.’ ‘You saying I’m not your friend, Warsword?’ A deep laugh burst from him then. ‘I’d say you’re probably my best friend, Apprentice.’
He laughed, and Thea didn’t think there was a sound in the entire world she loved more.
The more she knew about Wilder Hawthorne, the harder she fell. And she would never know enough about him, would never have enough moments with him. There was not enough time – not for her.
‘I can’t train you if I don’t know what’s going on up here,’ he said, tapping his temple. Thea took a breath and looked away. ‘It’s not my head that’s the problem.’
He felt unhinged, untethered from the fearless warrior he’d carved himself into, so far from the Hand of Death he hardly knew himself. Wilder Hawthorne had never begged for anything in his life, but for her… For her he would beg.
‘You and I are a team now. What hurts you, hurts me. And we’ll take it on together. Do you understand?’
‘Lay a hand on her, and you’ll die a slow, painful death.’ Wilder’s deep voice rumbled through the space, full of violence. ‘You’re pretty confident for a man in chains, Warsword,’ their captor said. ‘But I don’t think we need to worry about the likes of you just now.’ To Thea’s surprise, Wilder laughed. ‘I didn’t say it was me you had to worry about.’
Men were screaming. And it was a song whose notes she revelled in.
the southern isle of Naarva is completely covered in impenetrable darkness. Where the kingdom was once a jungle swarming with wraiths, no one can even enter now. Courtesy of a Shadow Prince who rules there.’ ‘And he is in league with the Daughter of Darkness?’ ‘So it would seem.’
‘There’s no escaping this,’ she said, reaching for his hands. ‘No matter what we say. And I’m done denying it. I want you, Wilder.’
Thea was a Princess of Delmira. And he was so deeply in love with her it might just consume him.
He’d been wrong. Thea wasn’t a princess. She was a queen.
No one had ever looked at Thea the way Wilder did.
She was suddenly aware of the fact that the hands that had wrung such pleasure from her had wrought such pain on others only hours before.
‘Wraith slayer,’ someone murmured. ‘The next Warsword of Thezmarr,’ another whispered. ‘The Shadow of Death…’
‘May you walk amid the gardens of the afterlife a whole half hour, before Enovius reads your ledger of deeds.’ She touched her glass to Wilder’s as he stared at her in disbelief. Then, the Warsword put a hand on his abdomen, tipped his head back and roared with laughter.
‘Getting a good look?’ she said, her voice surprisingly low and sultry. Wilder’s gaze darkened with desire. ‘I want to do more than look,’ he half growled. He came to her side once more, under the guise of helping her line her cue up to the striker. ‘I’d fuck you right on this table if I could.’ ‘So do it, Warsword,’ Thea said brazenly. ‘Didn’t realise you liked an audience, Princess.’ ‘You’re big enough and mean enough to make them leave.’ ‘I am. But I won’t.’
She saw the internal battle flickering behind his silver gaze. The look he gave her told her he was mere seconds away from throwing her down on the table and taking her then and there, despite the tavern’s patrons. She wished he would. Revellers had started to clear from the nearby tables, as though they could sense the pair were about to fight or fuck, or both.
He’d all but told Althea Zoltaire that he loved her, that she, the lost heir of Delmira, the living storm, owned him mind, body and broken soul. That his cold, weary heart was hers, if she would have it.
There was no end to the wanting of her, the loving her.
It was as though the Furies had made every inch of Thea just for him.
Her legs hit the edge of the mattress and she fell backward, taking him with her. He’d follow her anywhere.
