Page 56 of The Bound Mage
“It always is.” Eilwen laughed, stretching out a tentative hand toward the shadow. The tendril paused, considering her, then curled gently around her hand. Araya tensed—but Eilwen only laughed, soft and amazed, as the shadow twined through her fingers like smoke before slipping away again.
“I had a bond with Selan’s father,” Eilwen said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. “We could share power in small ways, but nothing quite as impressive as this.”
Araya glanced down at Selan, feeling the weight of Eilwen’s words. “He was fae too, wasn’t he?” If there was human blood in this baby, it wasn’t much. His life…it wouldn’t have been a kind one in the New Dominion.
“Half,” Eilwen said, her sad smile telling Araya everything she needed to know about where this male was now. “I didn’t even know we were mates until Thorne explained it—it felt like losing him twice.”
“I’m so sorry, Eilwen,” Araya swallowed, staring down at the baby in her arms. The back of her neck prickled and she glanced up, not surprised to find Loren staring at her. There was something in his expression that was tender, almost vulnerableas he watched her cradle Selan and his shadow twined around them both.
“I didn’t know about the mate bond either,” Araya said quietly. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“It’s a lot to take in.” Eilwen took Selan back as he stirred, fussing quietly. “A year ago I thought the Arcanum was going to put me to death,” she said. “I never would have believed a place like this even existed—much less that I’d be growing half the flowers for Bloomtide.”
“You grew all these?” Araya looked around again at all the flowers that surrounded them. ““They’re beautiful.”
“I’m a grower,” Eilwen said. “I’ve always had a knack for growing things—but the things I can do now, with my full power?” Her smile deepened, pride brightening her violet eyes. “Most days, the Princess Regent has me focused on crops. But for this? I got to make something beautiful.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Araya startled, a shiver running through her as Loren’s warm hand wrapped around her waist. She glanced up at him, but his gaze was fixed on the child in Eilwen’s arms, his expression unexpectedly soft.
“What a beautiful child,” he said.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Eilwen dipped into a clumsy curtsy, flushing. “It’s an honor to meet you. My son and I—we wouldn’t be here without Araya. She saved us.”
“Did she?” Loren’s grip tightened, sending sparks racing across Araya’s skin. “Well, I’m glad you both made it here unharmed. Your son is lucky to have you.”
“He’ll be a handful soon,” Eilwen said with a breathless laugh. “He’s already a troublemaker. I had to tie him to my back just to finish the floats for tonight.”
“You worked on the floats too?” Araya asked quickly, grateful for the shift in conversation. Loren’s hand remained at her waist, steady and warm, but she didn’t dare look at him.
“I did.” Eilwen grinned, bright-eyed. “Come on—I’ll help you find the best place to watch. You don’t want to miss this.”
The musicand laughter swelled as the crowd pressed in around them, the air thick with the heady scent of crushed petals and magic as Eilwen led them forward, Selan snug in her arms. Heads turned as they passed, Loren’s name spreading through the crowd like wildfire.
Araya kept her eyes locked on Eilwen’s back, trying not shrink under the weight of so many eyes. But with every step, she became more acutely aware of Loren behind her—the heat of his presence a burning contrast to the cool brush of his shadows curling around her ankles like curious hands.
“We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Loren murmured, his voice pitched low, meant only for her. “This is a lot—I can take you back.”
“No,” Araya said quickly, even as her voice wavered. “I want to see the floats.”
She meant it. She wanted to see this world—the one he had endured so much pain to protect.
A hush rippled through the crowd as the music swelled, rising to a joyful crescendo as the first float glided into view, drawn forward by nothing but threads of shimmering magic. A phoenix rose from it, sculpted from living blooms of crimson lilies and golden marigolds, held together by curling vines heavy with orange trumpet blossoms. It’s wings stretched wide, petalsrustling softly in the spring breeze as if it might take flight at any moment.
“Yougrewthat?” Araya gasped.
“The theme was rebirth,” Eilwen said, turning Selan in her arms so he could stare at the passing floats, his eyes wide with wonder. “They tried to represent all the old stories, to help teach those of us who never got to learn.”
Araya didn’t answer right away, her throat thick and her eyes stinging as the phoenix glided past them. Dancers spun and twirled barefoot in the shadow of its spread wings, scattering petals in their wake like a blessing. The crowd answered with a roar of delight, hands and voices lifted skyward.
But Loren didn’t cheer.
He stood beside her, silent and unmoving, his shoulders rigid as he stared out at the floats. The bond between them twisted with the ache of everything he felt—so much grief tangled with joy that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
Before she could think too hard about what she was doing, Araya leaned closer, letting her fingers tangle gently with his.
Loren startled slightly, his hand stiffening before his fingers curled tightly around hers. He looked down, his expression shadowed, his bright eyes shining with unshed tears.
