Page 38 of Kingdoms of Tides and Twilight

As they resumed their walk back to camp, Selenia found herself at a crossroads. Part of her wanted to fight for Jurel, to prove to him that they could find a way to reconcile their different dreams. But another part, a small voice growing louder by the moment, whispered that perhaps this wasn't the grand romance she had imagined it to be.

The camp came into view, bustling with activity as soldiers prepared for the evening meal. Selenia caught sight of Renya and Grayden across the yard, their heads bent close together in conversation. The easy intimacy between them, the way they seemed to fit together so naturally, made Selenia's heart ache with a mixture of envy and longing.

“Thank you for the lesson,” she said to Jurel as they reached the edge of the camp. “I really enjoyed it.”

Jurel smiled, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder affectionately. “Anytime,” he replied. “You're a natural with a bow. Who knows, maybe someday you'll be teaching me a thing or two.”

As he walked away, Selenia watched him go, her emotions a tangled mess. She loved Jurel, or at least she thought she did. But for the first time, she found herself wondering if love was enough, if shared feelings could bridge the gap between two fundamentally different visions of the future.

Shaking off her melancholy thoughts, Selenia squared her shoulders and headed towards her brothers. Whatever doubts and uncertainties plagued her heart, she was still a princess of the Snow Lands, sister to the ruler and the light bringer. She had a role to play in the coming battles, a duty to her people and her family. For now, that would have to be enough.

As she joined Grayden and Renya, Selenia pushed thoughts of Jurel and their complicated relationship to the back of her mind. There would be time to sort out her feelings later. For now, she had a war to prepare for, a world to save, and a family to support. And perhaps, in the midst of it all, she would find her own path, one that led to a future as bright and boundless as the snow-capped peaks surrounding them.

Chapter Twenty-One

As the sun dipped below the jagged mountain peaks, casting long shadows across the snow-covered camp, the group gathered around a large fire at the back of the encampment. The crackling flames cast a warm, golden glow on their faces, a stark contrast to the encroaching darkness and biting cold of the mountain night.

Renya settled comfortably beside Grayden, his strong arm draped protectively around her shoulders as he deftly managed to eat one-handed. She leaned back against his solid frame, relishing the heat that radiated from his body, warming her back while the fire chased away the chill from her front. The dual sources of warmth were a welcome respite from the bone-deep cold that had plagued her throughout their journey.

As she took in the scene around her, Renya couldn't help but notice the marked improvement in their provisions. The camp's dedicated cooking staff had prepared a feast that put their travel rations to shame. She savored each bite of the expertly baked bread, its crust crisp and interior still warm and fluffy. The fresh meat, seasoned to perfection, was a far cry from the dried jerky they'd survived on during their trek. The simple pleasure of a hot, satisfying meal after days of travel felt like pure luxury.

Jurel's voice cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the group. “So, are you leaving tomorrow?” he asked, his tone casual as he sat next to Selenia. Renya noticed how he carefully maintained a respectful distance from the younger woman, clearly mindful of Grayden's watchful gaze.

Grayden shook his head, his chest rumbling against Renya's back as he spoke. “No, we're going to stay at least three or four days. I want to show Renya Snow Pass Springs.”

Intrigued, Renya tilted her head to look up at him. “Snow Pass Springs? What's that?”

A soft smile played at the corners of Grayden's mouth as he explained, “It's a short ride from here. It's a geothermal hot spring. I figured after leaving the sunshine and warmth of the human world, you might miss being surrounded by heat.”

The thought of sinking into warm water, letting it soothe her aching muscles and chase away the persistent chill, was incredibly appealing. “That does sound nice,” Renya agreed, already imagining the steam rising from the water's surface.

“But first,” Grayden continued, his tone turning more serious, “you're training with swords tomorrow.”

Renya blinked in surprise, straightening slightly in his embrace. “What?” she asked, perplexed by this unexpected development.

Grayden's arm tightened around her slightly, a gesture of reassurance as he elaborated. “In the event your magic fades or it's somehow taken from you, Phillippe is going to teach you some basics. I want you protected and safe, with or without powers.” His gaze shifted to Selenia, including her in his next statement. “That goes for you too, Selenia. You'll be training as well.”

Selenia's eyes widened with excitement, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “I can't wait to stab someone,” she declared, her gaze sweeping across the group as if assessing potential targets.

Grayden rolled his eyes, though Renya detected a hint of fondness in his exasperation. “I thought you'd say that. Jurel will be training with you. I figure he'll be the safest from the pointy end of whatever weapon you wield.”

Selenia's scowl was halfhearted at best, and Renya didn't miss the faint blush that colored her cheeks at the prospect of training with Jurel again. The younger woman's attraction to the soldier was as obvious as it was endearing, and she had been bubbly after her archery lesson.

Phillippe, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up. His voice carried the authoritative tone of a seasoned commander as he addressed the group. “I suggest everyone get a good night of rest. Tomorrow's training is going to be grueling. I expect the same from you as I do my men.”

As the implications of Grayden's decision sank in, Renya felt a surge of gratitude and respect for her mate. His choice to have both her and Selenia trained in combat alongside the men spoke volumes about his character. In a world that often seemed to value chivalry and traditional gender roles, Grayden's progressive attitude was refreshing. It eased some of Renya's fears about being seen as too weak or soft to play a meaningful role in the coming conflict.

Still, as she finished her meal, Renya couldn't help but wonder about her role as the light bringer. The title still felt foreign, its responsibilities and implications a mystery. She found herself hoping that Queen Kalora might have some answers, some insight into the power that now coursed through her veins.

As the group began to disperse for the night, Grayden took Renya's hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He led her towards a cabin nestled against the left side of the towering ice wall that bordered the camp. Hope blossomed in Renya's chest as they approached. “Do we get this all to ourselves?” she asked, unable to keep the eagerness from her voice. After nights of sharing close quarters with Selenia, the prospect of privacy—and the chance to sleep in Grayden's arms once more—was incredibly enticing.

“Yes, my Little Fawn,” Grayden confirmed, a hint of anticipation in his own voice as he pushed open the door.

The interior of the cabin was spartan at best. A small fire stove occupied one corner, promising warmth against the mountain chill. A tiny washroom, equipped with just a simple sink for washing, stood off to one side. The bed, if it could be called that, was little more than a lumpy straw-stuffed mattress that looked barely big enough for both of them.

Yet as Renya took in their humble accommodations, she found she didn't care about the room's shortcomings. After nights spent on the hard ground, Selenia's soft snores a constant companion, the prospect of privacy and Grayden's embrace outweighed any lack of comfort.

Renya stood in the middle of the cramped space, drinking in the moment. Grayden wasted no time in crossing the room to her, his movements purposeful and filled with barely restrained passion. The metallic clang of his sword and sheath hitting the ground punctuated the air as he undid his belt, kicking the weapon aside with a careless foot.

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