Page 68 of Feral Gods
"So that's it." Thane nods as if confirming a theory. "You knew about her and me. Accepted it, even. But Zephyr is different somehow."
"This discussion is finished." I turn back to the map, struggling to focus on battle plans instead of the images burned into my mind Kaia's trust, Zephyr's tenderness, their perfect magical harmony.
"No, it isn't." Thane's voice hardens. "Not if your personal feelings endanger our collective survival. We face enemies on two fronts, Ravik. We cannot afford internal conflict."
"Then leave it alone."
"I would, if I believed you capable of doing the same." He moves around the table, positioning himself in my line of sight. "But you're not. You're spiraling, and that puts all of us at risk Kaia most of all."
The mention of her name triggers another surge of possessive instinct. "I would never harm her."
"Not intentionally." His gaze holds mine, unflinching. "But rage makes us careless. Makes us miss threats, overlook weaknesses. The commander I followed for centuries would never allow personal feelings to compromise our security."
The accusation strikes its target with precision. Before I can formulate a response, footsteps echo from the eastern passage—light, human footsteps accompanied by the more measured tread of our scholarly companion.
Kaia enters first, her face brightening at the sight of me. The simple joy in her expression momentarily soothes the jealousy clawing at my insides. She wears the same simple tunic and leggings as yesterday, but something about her seems transformed—a new confidence in her bearing, a subtle glow to her skin that speaks of magical practice and other, more intimate exertions.
"Ravik!" She moves toward me, unaware of the tension hanging in the chamber. "We've been looking for you. Zephyr's discovered something important about the temple's defensive systems."
Zephyr follows her into the chamber, his silver-gray form moving with characteristic precision. Unlike Kaia, he reads the atmosphere instantly, turquoise eyes flicking between Thane and me with quick assessment.
"Perhaps this can wait," he suggests, placing a cautioning hand on Kaia's shoulder.
That touch—casual, proprietary—snaps the last threads of my control.
"Remove your hand," I growl, the words barely recognizable through the rage distorting my voice.
Zephyr complies immediately, understanding the danger in my tone, but Kaia steps forward instead of back, concern replacing her earlier smile.
"What's wrong?" she asks, approaching me with the fearlessness that first drew me to her. "Has something happened?"
"Many things have happened," I reply, struggling to moderate my tone. "Enemy forces approach from two directions. We have battle plans to finalize. Defenses to reinforce." I gesture sharply toward the map table. "These take precedence over whatever magical discoveries you two have made."
The emphasis I place on "you two" is not lost on her. Her eyes narrow slightly, perception sharpening.
"This isn't about defense preparations." She steps closer despite Zephyr's warning gesture. "What's really bothering you, Ravik?"
The direct question, delivered with such calm expectation of honesty, breaks something loose inside me. "You ask what bothers me? The fact that our enemies gather while you and Zephyr explore each other instead of strengthening our defenses. The fact that you've given yourself to everyone but expect me to focus on strategy as if it doesn't matter."
Kaia's expression shifts from concern to dawning understanding, then to something harder. "Given myself? As if I'm a possession to be distributed or withheld?"
"That's not what I meant?—"
"It's exactly what you meant." Her voice remains level, but magenta energy begins to shimmer around her fingertips—her emotions affecting her newly awakened magic. "You're not angry about defenses or enemy movements. You're angry because you think you have some claim over me that supersedes my own choices."
Her accuracy slices through my anger, exposing the ugly truth beneath. Before I can formulate a response, Thane steps forward.
"Kaia, perhaps?—"
"No." She holds up a hand, stopping him without taking her eyes from mine. "Ravik needs to hear this. I am not a prize to be won or territory to be claimed. I choose who I share myself with—body, mind, and heart. Those choices are mine alone."
Each word drives deeper than the last. The rational part of me—the commander, the protector—knows she's right. But the primal part, the territorial gargoyle awakened, rebels against her independence.
"You don't understand what you're playing with," I warn, feeling control slipping further with each passing moment. "The bonds you're creating have consequences you can't comprehend."
"Then help me comprehend them," she challenges, stepping closer still. "Explain instead of commanding. Share instead of claiming."
"I don't have Zephyr's words," I growl, frustration building. "His ability to discuss feelings and theories and magical resonance. I protect. I fight. I claim what's mine."
