Light filled the space between us. Pink and impossibly warm, it radiated from her, setting her skin alight with the colors of dawn and driving away the night’s darkness until it became uncomfortable to stand so close.

The heat strengthened her scent, melting away the superficial trace of Varian that lingered on her clothes and hair. It diffused her own natural smell—vanilla and something unnamable that called to the warm greenness of a spring day.

I released the railing behind her, hand lifting to the small of her back, where her gown dipped low along the base of her spine. My thumb brushed the barest strip of exposed skin.

Then her power hit me in full force.

The warmth from a breath ago was nothing to the sudden raging inferno that poured from her palm and into my body. Her hand tightened, gripping my wounded arm with more strength than such a slight female should possess. Yet still, the heat grew. It flowed from her in wave after wave of torrid pain. I hissed out a breath.

With a small, satisfied smile, she dropped her hand and I staggered back. Mischief transformed the warm amber of her gaze into a glittering citrine.

That look . . . I’d worn a similar expression plenty, most recently when baiting a rise out a certain Dorian prince. Surprise jolted through me.

But before I could find words, Aurora’s chin lifted and her shoulders squared. She left in a passing swirl of black fabric and bare, fresh cream skin.

Gods.

I lifted a hand to the wound beneath my jacket, then rotated my shoulder, testing the muscles there. No pain. There was not even the tight pull of the stitches Nerina had painfully and awkwardly closed the gash with hours earlier. All that remained was a pulsing warmth beneath my skin.

The feast had been bad from the start. A riot of drunken males fighting over slaves and gambling at the tables until there was nothing left in their pockets. But this . . . Movement beneath a food table caught my eye. I averted my gaze from the rutting pair, only to find a tapestry hanging to cover a shadowed alcove. It was all bright colors and gaudy detail, depicting a nymph chased by a satyr whose excitement was indecently exaggerated. The fabric moved in a similar rhythm to that couple on the floor.

“Not even the Sirens throw parties like this,” Nerina said as she cut through the crowd and sidled up to me.

“Are you sure? You’ve never attended one of my mother’s.”

“Oh, but I’ve heard. Anyway, it’s different. She does it to feed.”

I grimaced. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss the morality of my mother’s feeding habits.

She laughed at my sour expression. “I take it you’ve enjoyed your evening.”

“It had its moments.”

“Oh, really? Then why are you standing here brooding?”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Aidon’s brooding?” came Peleus’ slurred voice. “What about this time?”

Dacian peeled away from the shadows, falling into step beside my oldest and thoroughly inebriated friend. “The Korai, of course.”

Nerina glanced towards the empty dais. Her lips thinned. “You were on the terrace for a long time.”

Peleus wiggled his eyebrows, throwing an arm over his sister’s shoulder. “You suppose they had a lover’s spat already?”

To the delight of a nearby group of soldiers, Nerina elbowed him in the gut. Peleus doubled over, gasping.

Lux was suddenly there. He jerked Peleus upright. “Don’t be a fool.”

Peleus scowled up at the Dorian blearily. “I’ll have you know that my intelligence is appreciated in some circles. My tutors all thought me quite brilliant.”

Dacian loosed an amused grunt. “The ones you bedded, perhaps.”

“Fair enough. But still... there are many kinds of intelligence. And my particular skill set wasn’t learned overnight, you know.”

“No. It was over many nights,” said Nerina. “With many, many, different tutors. I should know. My bedroom was next door.”

“Enough,” I said. The soldiers had started to stare. Some of them even looked sober enough to remember anything they might overhear. “We’re done here.”

Back in our assigned chambers, I didn’t wait for Dacian to shut the door before shedding my jacket. I tossed it onto the nearest settee. The white shirt beneath soon followed.

“Watch it!” Nerina cried. “You know I’m a terrible seamstress. Do you really want me taking a needle to your arm twice in the same day?”

I ignored her, not bothering to tell her that her stitches had likely been in vain. I ripped the bloodied wrap that covered the wound away. As I’d suspected, a thin length of thread, freed from my healed skin, fell to the floor.

Peleus tried to focus. “Please tell me I’m not that drunk.”

“The Korai healed you,” Nerina said, voice small as she backed away from me a step. “That’s why you were on the terrace for so long.”

Cadmus nudged her aside. Already, he held a small glass magnifying lens, probably dug out of one of the many pockets sewn into the long vests he favored. He took my arm in his dark hands and angled me towards the firelight. “Fascinating,” he said. Academic fervor filled his face. “Most God-Blooded healers use their power to speed the body’s natural healing processes. But this is extraordinary. The healing seems to have been instantaneous.”

Lux hovered behind the settee, frowning. “She saved you in the Trial. Now she’s healed you, knowing the male she is ready and willing to wed wants to gut you. Why?”

"You know," Dacian grunted out, uncharacteristically thoughtful, "I caught a familiar scent wrapped around the Korai. Smells like the Bastion."

The Bastion of the Fallen, all that was left of Livonia. "The King," I said, "you think he has a spy close to her?"

"I know he does," was his answer.

“I don't like this, Aidon. What if she is playing her own game?” Nerina added, arms wrapping around herself.

“How so?” Lux asked.

Nerina rolled her eyes. “I’m saying, maybe she doesn’t want to marry the oh-so-noble Varian. I certainly wouldn’t wish to come within a dozen feet of him.”

Lux shrugged. “She’s been raised to be a Dorian queen.”

Nerina tsked. “Oh, Luxy. What female would want that after what happened to the last one?”

Not bothering to answer, Lux turned away.

Cadmus was too wound up in his wondering to notice their exchange. “The Korai’s power is still maturing,” he mused. “Perhaps she couldn’t control herself.”

And yet, I remembered that look on her face, the mischief there. I smiled. “I know why she did it.”

Five pairs of wide eyes fixed on me. “Why?” Cadmus asked.

“Because she knew it would bloody well hurt.”

Peleus chuckled. “Well, well, well . . .Perhaps the Korai isn’t the delicate little flower we thought her to be.”

I pulled away from Cadmus’ prodding and crossed to the hearth, hand going reflexively to the place where she’d held my arm. No, no the Korai was not what I’d expected her to be at all.