behind her.
“You were apologizing,” Maeva’s pattar reminded me, expectation on his face when he turned to me. “Go on.”
An amused but rough huff left my nostrils. But I would beg on my knees if it was what he needed to see. I would do anything for Maeva.
“I am sorry,” I said, meeting his eyes before flickering to Laru, who looked uncomfortable and shocked to have a Vorakkar speaking to her like this. “I am sorry for what I put her through. I am sorry for hurting her, for putting strain on your family.”
The terun’s jaw tightened.
“You turned your back on her,” her father stated. “Not once but twice.”
The first had been when I’d broken her heart, I knew. But the second…
“I didn’t know,” I rasped.
His scowl was deep. “Neffar?”
“You have no reason to believe me except that you know I’m not a liar, terun. And you have known me almost my entire life,” I said quietly, holding his gaze. “I did not know about your mate’s passing until mere weeks ago when Maeva told me herself. The messages never reached me.”
Disbelief went through his gaze. I kept out the fact that my mother had been responsible for that.
“And I am sorry that you felt the loss of her too early,” I continued gruffly, feeling Laru reach out to touch my forearm. “But trust that I would have come had I known. Nothing would have kept me away.”
Something flickered deep in the pattar’s eyes. Stunned realization. Because he knew me. Despite the fact that I had hurt Maeva all those years ago…I was not a liar. He believed me when I said I hadn’t known.
And maybe his hatred of me dampened slightly because of it.
His lips pressed together.
“I love her,” I said again, my voice quiet. “And I have asked her to be my Morakkari, though she had not given me her answer yet.”
Part of the reason, I knew, stood right in front of me.
“And I know that Maeva will never truly be happy without her family close to her.”
The terun’s eyes narrowed. Laru’s went wide.
“And I want her to be happy. She deserves to be happy. I do not want her to feel torn between us when she does not have to be,” I said, reaching out to clasp her pattar’s shoulder. “So I am asking you both…if she decides to accept me as hers, if she decides to take her place as Morakkari to my horde, will you join it? Will you leave the saruk for her?”
My gaze shifted to Laru’s. This was uncommon certainly, but not unheard of.
“I know I ask a lot,” I said quietly. “But you would honor me if you accepted my horde as your home.”
My eyes returned to Maeva’s pattar. In his own, I saw his fear, his indecision, his sorrow. But I also saw his love. His love for his family, for his daughters and their happiness.
“Will you come with us?”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Drukkar’s Sea was stretched out before me and I breathed in that air I’d missed so much.
The frost dulled the crisp scent slightly. It made it sting my lungs but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed a moment to remember this place. This beautiful place.
I didn’t know how long I’d been out here. But the view was breathtaking. The wild, violent beauty of the sea…my eyes feasted on it. Kakkari was the earth and Drukkar was the sea. Where they met was the cliffside, the waves crashing and tumultuous below, as if nothing would stop Drukkar from reaching her. That was what my lomma always told me. That Drukkar would always come for Kakkari.
The base of my neck prickled. And I sensed his presence before I heard his low voice call my name.
“Maeva.”
When I turned, I saw Kiran heading down the small pathway that led to our private little cliffside. The one that was hidden from the main pathway.
When he reached me, his gaze flickered over the cliff before it settled on me. I knew what he was thinking because I’d thought the same thing myself. It had been years since we’d been here together. It had been years since I’d come to this cliff—well, with the exception of when he’d first come to the saruk weeks earlier. But I hadn’t ventured down here. I’d stayed on the pathway.
I took his hand, drawing him towards me.
“I was looking everywhere for you,” he murmured, dragging me into his arms, wrapping them tight.
I listened to the steady thump of his heart and