Midnight Truth (Shifter Island #4) - Leia Stone Page 0,57
… I didn’t sleep well.’ I pushed the thought through our bond.
He sighed mentally, and the sound only made me feel more depressed.
‘Me neither, Nai. But I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it yet. Maybe later. I love you.’
Ouch.
My throat tightened with unshed tears as the pain of his rejection bled through our bond. If not for the hasty “I love you” at the end…
He just needs time, I told myself. He’d been dealing with a lot as king, and only having just found out that the high mages paid for fifty percent of his income, it was a blow. And I did take the high mages’ side … I did. Before I could stop them, tears spilled over onto my cheeks.
Dammit, Rage, you little shit! I wasn’t going to be able to focus on my studies today until we were all good. I wanted him to see that the bigger fights right now were the blood mages and me getting my grandfather’s spirit magic. That was where our focus should be.
Wiping my eyes, I decided to forgo breakfast. I needed to get some fresh air and clear my head. Rushing to dress and brush my teeth, I darted out into the hallway.
“You look weird,” Donovan’s voice called over my shoulder and startled me.
I snorted with a little self-loathing. At least those closest to me were honest. “Yeah … I was crying. I need to go for a walk, clear my head.” I forced a smile. “Wanna come?”
Donovan held a breakfast danish in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. At my invitation, his expression lit up. “Can we go to the atrium to see the butterflies?”
I put my hand on my hip. “There’s a butterfly atrium here? Yes, let’s go there.”
A huge grin swept across his face, and he beelined down the hall, leaving me confused and running after him.
“Mom! Going to butterflies with Nai,” he cried as we approached the kitchen.
Sariah popped out and looked over the two of us, her lips pulling up into a big smile. “Okay, I have a shift on the mainland at the portal today. Be back before lunch. Annette is cooking homemade lasagna.” She handed me a Danish wrapped in a paper towel. “Have fun.”
“Thanks,” I said, accepting the meal gratefully.
We trotted down the hall, and then Donovan stepped out the front door with me following closely behind.
“Why crying?” Donovan asked through a mouthful of pastry.
“Huh?” I asked, momentarily confused, and then it dawned on me. “Oh, I was crying because Rage and I had an argument.”
“Rage? Husband?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder at me, his brows furrowed.
I let the word husband roll around my head. They didn’t do mates here, so Donovan probably wouldn’t understand that term. Husband was as close as we’d probably get. “Yes. He’s the king of the wolves.”
Pulling to a stop, Donovan gaped at me, his eyes wide and his jaw unhinged.
Turning to face him, I asked him, “What’s wrong?”
“Bad man.” Donovan shook his head. “Alpha king is mean.”
“Rage isn’t—oh, yeah. You’re thinking of Declan. He’s gone. Rage is the new king. Nice king.”
Donovan relaxed, and we resumed our pace, passing the front garden and waving at
Bruno and Max. “Good king. Nai’s husband. Argument.”
I smiled. “You got it.”
After leading us out of the gated area, Donovan walked at a brisk pace through the large courtyard, passing by the other castles where I’d taken my elemental tests. Donovan tapped a rhythm on his thigh as we looked around at the flowering trees. We walked for more than five minutes through the campus, passing the records hall and the library then turning right where a looming atrium appeared in the distance on the other side of a large meadow.
The massive structure stood well over fifty feet tall and was made completely of glass, similar to a greenhouse. Some of the window panels were opened, but I could see black screen mesh, small enough to keep the butterflies from getting out. Large tropical palm trees climbed toward the top of the building, and tall shrubs and bushes in vibrant colors painted a beautiful scene. “Whoa…”
“Come on!” Donovan grabbed my hand, and together, we started to run. I trailed after him, both of us laughing as we raced down the gravel path that wound through the glen and led to the atrium door. We pulled to a stop, and I let go of Donovan’s hand. He reached out to open the glass door, and—