I spit the fruit into my palm. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—let me help you gather?—”
“Forget it,” the Drakoon mutters, spreading his golden wings before stalking off, leaving his expensive fruit rolling across the stones. “I’ll just buy myself some new ones.”
I stand there, dripping wet, holding my single krivva fruit, surrounded by the evidence of my catastrophic success.
Of course.
This is who I am. I can’t accomplish anything without causing collateral damage. Not impressive enough for my family. Not memorable enough for heroes like Sutek. Not graceful enough to participate in a simple game without destroying someone else’s prizes. Definitely not enough for someone like Selene.
I look at the collection baskets. The Drakoon had ten fruit before I scattered them. Other guests have eight, twelve, fifteen.
Mine has one.
One fruit. Plus chaos and an annoyed Drakoon.
My brother Valkor would have caught a dozen by now. Would probably have done it with warrior grace and efficiency, impressing everyone watching. Certainly wouldn’t have knocked over another guest’s collection like some clumsy youngling.
What am I even doing here? I should be meeting with Rist right now. Should be presenting our family’s proposal. Should be focused on the mission that actually matters instead of wasting time proving—yet again—that I’m inadequate at everything, even activities designed for fun.
I should leave. Make my excuses. Find Rist and focus on what actually matters?—
“Hey.” Selene’s voice cuts through my spiral. “That was actually really impressive.”
I stare at her. “I just destroyed his entire collection.”
“Yeah, but you caught one! On your second try!” She’s smiling like I’ve accomplished something remarkable. “Honestly? He was being pretty smug about his pile. I hated how he kept trying to show it off too. Not saying he deserved it, but…”
Despite everything, I smile. “That’s pretty terrible.”
“Maybe. We did agree to be wicked together, though, right?” She picks up one of the scattered krivva fruit and deposits it in my basket, a sly smile on her lips. “And you still caught one fair and square.”
She’s still here. Still talking to me. Still choosing to be near me despite watching me fail at every possible metric.
Why?
I don’t understand it. She’s witnessed me at my most incompetent, my most undignified, my most thoroughly Khatak.
And she’s still standing here. Still smiling. Still looking at me like I’m someone worth her time.
Something warm and dangerous unfurls in my chest.
She’ll understand, I think. She’ll help me.
And then… She could be a mate.
The thought hits me sideways, completely unexpected.
I’ve never considered having a mate. That was always something for after—after proving myself, after accomplishing something meaningful, after earning the right to be chosen.Mates are for successful males. For warriors who can provide and protect. For people like Valkor, not people like me.
The family disappointment doesn’t get to have a mate. Not until he’s proven he’s worth something.
But she’s looking at me like I’ve conquered something remarkable.
What if?—
I pick up my fruit. The weight feels insignificant.
I should give it to her. Not because I want her to like me… but because I want her to like me.
