Page 93 of The Moonborn's Curse

"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.

"Regret what?"

"This. Us. This thing we share. We didn't ask for it"

He turned to look at her, truly look. "No. No, we didn’t. But now, I can see how precious it is, how rare."

She looked away, brushing a petal from her dress. "Not even when she watches you like she still owns your heart?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Lia... was part of my life for a long time. My best friend. You need to understand, she has no one else. Her mother, she is strange. She doesn't care about her. But that is all. Whatever we thought we had, it’s over. I won’t lie; I have kissed her. But that is all. But you—Seren—when I'm near you, I feel like I can breathe. You make me lighter. I can’t wait until you allow me to feel my lips on yours. I can wait until you trust me."

She closed her eyes for a second.

Let herself believe it. His eyes were intense as if willing her to believe him.

She let herself hope.

They sat in silence, the kind that only grew between people learning how to see each other.

The days between the old life and the new were passing quietly. But the current beneath them had begun to pull.

And the bond was drawing tighter with every breath.

Chapter 37

The township was blooming.

Garlands of jasmine and pale forest roses were strung between the houses, their scent rising with the late sun. At the centre, the square had been swept clean and laid with rushes. Children darted beneath the feet of women adorned in white flower crowns, laughter trailing like ribbons in the air. The men wore traditional tunics—their colours woven from the threads of their family line.

The morning sun filtered through the trees, gilding the leaves like fire. Hagan stood near the edge of the clearing, fidgeting with the cuffs of his black and gold tunic. Dain and Veyr were nearby, already dressed, but it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

He'd been restless all morning—too hot, too aware of the bond humming just beneath his skin since the bonding tattoo ink had been prepared. Since she had started getting ready.

He sensed her behind him before he saw her. Such was the bond between them.

Seren stepped into the clearing, and everything else vanished.

The golden sheath she wore shimmered like sunlight over water, clinging to her curves, graceful and proud. Her dark braid had been woven with sprigs of lavender and a narrow thread of gold. The bandeau she wore in red marked her bloodline, but it was the look in her eyes—calm, fierce, and a little nervous—that nearly undid him.

He couldn't breathe.

She caught his stare. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then—gods help him—she smiled.

It was shy at first, then tilted into something teasing. Like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Which, given their bond, she probably did.

Beside him, Dain muttered, "Try not to drool."

Veyr didn't say anything, but Hagan noticed the flick of his gaze—assessing, distant, almost protective. And Hagan suddenly understood just how many eyes were on her now. How many would always be on her.

And still, she was his in a way that no other could compare.

When she reached him, she cocked her head slightly. "You look good."

"You..." He swallowed. "You look—"

He forgot the word. His mind was blank.

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