Her breath hitched. What could possibly make Xeari seek me out?
Images flashed—Aria's possessive kiss, Vesper's relentless teasing. Was this about them?
Before she could spiral further, Xeari did the unexpected.
He bowed.
Not a nod, not a tilt of the head—a deep, formal bend at the waist, the kind reserved for solemn oaths or grave apologies.
"I owe you an apology," he said, still bent. "For not speaking against your execution."
Blazar's breath caught. That day—when she'd stood trial before the kings, when death had felt inevitable—flashed through her mind. Xeari had been there, silent. Not that she blamed him or anything.
She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued.
"At first when we met rather a bit closely, when I saved you from Rai, I had a vision of you. Normally I don't get visions of people without close contact but I had it. You're my mate," he said.
Blazar's brain exploded.
Mate? The word echoed in her skull. Fated partners. Bonded souls.
