Page 38 of The Stolen Kingdom

This is a dream… isn’t it?

Maris’s eyes darkened, and Valda’s chest tightened as she felt the anger radiating from her mate. As much as she wanted to deny it, the truth clawed its way to the surface, igniting something primal inside her.

To be called a murderer to her face—to see those eyes, which once shimmered with love and desire, now stare at her with disgust—was unbearable.

Valda couldn’t take it.

“And you are a liar…”

Valda’s body quivered with the overwhelming urge to grab Maris, to grasp her neck and force her to listen. But one hand was already clutching the Heaven Sword, though she could have sworn she’d discarded it moments ago.

“You left!” Her hand released the sword with such violence that made Maris take a step back. No. She scared her. How was she supposed to get through her if she scared her.

But Maris knew she would never harm her…

But…

Valda closed her fist tightly. “You left me. Your mate, how could you?”

“You killed my father, my mother, you killedme!”

Opening her hands once more, she rubbed her palm harshly against her pants. “How can I make you understand that I never meant to hurt you?” Valda didn’t know. If she had known, she would’ve protected that man with her life.

“But you did!Youdid.”

She did… she hurt her more than anyone in this lifetime, and there was nothing she could do other than to say sorry until Maris could understand that she was telling the truth.

She sighed, glancing down at herself. The bloodstains were gone. The sword was back in its sheath, but her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Valda said again, her voice breaking.

“I don’t care. Everything I suffered—all of it—was because of you.”

They were both suffering right now, they were both being torn by being apart, and Maris couldn’t see that. After all the things she said that night. She promised she wouldn’t leave Valda. Now she was miles away.

“I never… I…” Valda faltered, the words lodging in her throat. She wanted to shout that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one to blame. But it would be a lie.

Groaning, she pressed her knuckles against her throbbing forehead. “You said you would never leave. You told me—right before you went back to Oberon! Youliedto me!”

“I had to,” Maris replied, her voice seeming to break. “I couldn’t stay, Valda. What would they think if I stayed with the one person responsible for their death?”

Valda raised her gaze, meeting Maris’s, pain and anger flickering in her eyes.

“I want to see you,” Maris continued softly, “but… I can’t be near you.”

That admission shattered something inside Valda.

With a snarl, she stepped forward, clutching Maris’s jaw with one hand, her grip firm as she pried her mouth open.

Maris’s eyes widened in fear, a soft, pained grunt escaping her lips.

Valda froze, her gaze lingering on those lips—lips she’d missed every night. A heat coiled low in her stomach, spreading to her thighs, igniting something primal within her.

Gods, she missed her.

Each night, she craved Maris with a fervor that burned through her. She wanted to wake up between her legs, Maris beneath her while tasting her, consuming her. And now, here she was, with Maris in her grasp—at her mercy, begging.

She wanted Maris to beg for her. She should beg for her.

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