Ludayn’s lips pressed together. The words were jarring, hitting her square in her softened face. And it just felt wrong. So wrong to me.

“There were a lot of Killup too, living in the Collis, because of the mines. Their own stories began to circulate throughout New Earth. An old war that was a complete slaughter, for example. And you just…you hear so many things. And then you begin to believe them as truth. When I came here, when I married Azur…that was what I believed.”

“And now?” Ludayn asked, a hardness in her tone I’d never heard before. “What do you believe?”

“That I was wrong.”

Her shoulders softened.

I touched her shoulder, the back of my neck feeling tight and discomfort swimming in my belly. I didn’t like to admit it. I’d always been proud. But I couldn’t stand to see the look on Ludayn’s face as I spoke of my own ignorance.

“I was completely and utterly wrong,” I said softly. “Krynn…Laras…it’s the most beautiful place. I watch the village from the west wing in the evenings, and it just seems so peaceful. And you and Kalia and Maazin…you’ve all been so kind to me. Helping me navigate my new life here. You’ll never know how grateful I am to you for that.”

“We hear those stories too,” Ludayn informed me, reaching out hesitantly to squeeze my hand before dropping it.

“Which ones?” I asked frowning.

“The terrible ones,” Ludayn told me. “Some are true.”

My brow furrowed.

“There are other Kylorr. Other territories or nations, if you’d like to call them that. The Kaazor in the north, for instance. The Thryki to the east, across the sea. The Koro. The Dyaar,” Ludayn murmured, her voice softening on the last word. “And some are as terrible as I’m sure most believe. Don’t misunderstand me, there are terrible Kylorr living within the Kaalium too. Plenty of them. No territory is perfect. But outside of the Kaalium there is a culture of keeping to the old traditions of the early Kylorr. They relish the warring. The slaughtering. The bloodshed. For the sake of it, not because it has a purpose.”

I flinched.

“I am a Dyaar,” she informed me after great hesitation. I stilled. Was that why her hair and her eyes were so different from everyone else’s? Her face shape was different too, her horns smaller, her nose more flat. Her skin was a lighter gray than Kalia’s. “I am a Kylorr who has never flown. Who has never taken to the skies and felt the moon winds on my wings because my father was cruel. He hated that I wasn’t a son. A son he could make into a warrior. So he broke my wing when I was just a child, and he laughed and drank his brew as he did it.”

Nausea bloomed in my gut, restlessness rising under my skin.

“Ludayn,” I whispered, aghast. I couldn’t imagine my father physically hurting me. He never, never would.

She drew in a deep breath, blinking the memory from her eyes, and approached me after she draped my dress over the back of a chair.

“My mother and I escaped to the Kaalium. She knew a traveling merchant from Laras, and he brought us here, even across an ocean, along with others that would fit within his ship,” Ludayn said. “So I might have been born Dyaar, but my home is the Kaalium. And like you, I’ve found much kindness and understanding here, though there are those who look at me and sneer.”

“Where’s your mother now?” I asked, fearing the worst.

Ludayn smiled, and to my relief, it wasn’t tinged in despair. “She lives in the village,” she told me. “She makes the most delicious steam cakes you’ve ever tasted and has a shop where the line is out the door every morning.”

I heard the pride in her voice.

“I’d like to meet her,” I said gently.

“I’ll take you into the village,” Ludayn declared. “Though your husband might want you to wait until after the harvest festival. It draws many Kylorr into the city, those who live in the outer lands, and he might think it too difficult for a guard to keep track of you.”

“He hasn’t fed from me for five days,” I told Ludayn, unsure why that confession slipped from my lips. I watched her own bewilderment flash over her face, though she tried to hide it valiantly. “I don’t think he would mind.”

“All the same, we should wait,” she said softly. She cocked her head to the side. “Did you find your answer?”

“To what?”

She gestured to my wrist, to the bite she’d left behind.

Oh.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “It’s different with him.”

Ludayn nodded. She’d already known that.

“Why?” I asked.

She wasn’t as quick to hide her discomfort, her indecision this time. “That’s a question for the Kyzaire,” she told me.

“Ludayn.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” I told her. “Thank you for telling me. I know it couldn’t have been easy. For you or your mother. But I’m glad you’ve found peace here.”

Ludayn’s smile was small. “Me too.”

She placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing.

Then she took a deep breath, going to my wardrobe, shuffling around for something in one of the drawers. She changed the subject and asked, “Would you like to wear this band in your hair tomorrow?”

She held up a wreath of shimmering silver and intricately carved flowers.

“We can leave your hair down—which you should because it’s so lovely,” Ludayn murmured, looking at the black strands with longing. Like she jealous of my hair when I’d always been jealous of my sisters’. “It’s always tied up.”

“I’m working out on the terrace with Kalia in the morning, so it’s better if it stays up,” I informed her, even though the band was pretty.

Ludayn sighed. “Very well.”

Not wanting to see the disappointment on her face, I compromised with, “Maybe for the ball. If Azur lets me attend.”

She grinned. “Perfect.”

When she said good night a short while later, stoking the fire in my hearth and turning down my bed, I went out to the balcony, my eyes searching the skies for any sign of a maddening Kylorr male with embers for eyes. I didn’t see him.

The restlessness was building again. It was like my body was producing too much blood and it needed to be fed from to manage it. My skin felt tight. Aching.

“Enough of this,” I whispered fiercely, determination shooting through me. I was dressed for bed, in a thin shift dress, but I wouldn’t let that deter me.

Spinning toward the door before I lost my nerve, I ventured out into the darkened keep.

Then I went out in search of my husband, wanting answers.

Chapter 23

Azur

I scented her before she ever appeared at my office door. A delicious, tantalizing, heady scent that made my head swirl and my fangs elongate immediately.

Fuck. She was near. So fucking close.

I was hungry. I could go long stretches without feeding on blood. Food had done a decent job at tamping down the worst of the hunger, especially if a blood giver hadn’t been available. Food had kept me strong enough to fly.

Then I’d discovered my kyrana.

Food tasted like ash in my mouth now. It could no longer nourish me the way her blood did. I felt weak and drained. The power of my wings now felt depleted.

A part of me despised her for it.

Logically, I knew that I could feed from another. Yesterday, I’d choked down a cup full of blood from our reserves and nearly gagged. Reserves had never been particularly pleasant, but now I was physically unable to keep it down.

All because of my damn wife.

I was weakened now. Forever dependent on her, which posed its own stretch of problems. Keeping her, staying married to her…that had never been my intention.

Now I didn’t think I’d be able to let her go.

Gemma must’ve seen the light coming from the glowing orb hovering in the center of the room. She nudged open the door, endlessly curious and poking her head into places it didn’t belong, but then her lips pressed together when she saw me.