The dark prince ran at breakneck speed, eating up miles of distance in seconds until they came at the end of a street. He stopped short in front of a worn-down greystone igloo with creeping vines full of blue blooms of roses nearly swallowing up the entire wall of residence.

“Blue roses?” She stared at the hundreds of blooming roses overtaking the entire structure.

Holden set her down on the cobblestone street, lifted his arm and pointed an open palm up high towards the towering igloo in front of them. “Parasites.” He murmured with a seething vehemence under his breath.

Bit by bit, the blue roses blooming on the vines aged until it dried up and wilted falling to the floor. The vines that held the blooms suffered the same rapid condition, drying up as if time went fast forward. In several stretch of seconds, what was once in full bloom withered down to ashes, creeping vines crumbling to dust as their bits and pieces fell to the ground.

Then he twisted his open palm at a slight tilt, and the big cracks where the vines once were on the greystone igloo mended together, concrete rocks closing in to a close, clean as a whistle, looking brand-new. Even the overgrown moss beginning to rise up on the bottom walls, fell away receding to finer point until it was gone completely.

“Woah,” she breathed out, foggy smoke swirling out of her mouth “Is that why dark tribe city looks impeccable in architecture?”

He tipped his chin, “Dark tribe artistry excels at building from what Nature Brumcia provides for us."

The statement left her with more questions. Their answers already rising up from the back of her mind, ready to be unpacked but River forced herself to tamp down Me'ren's shared knowledge in her brain. She had a wild feeling that receiving answers would be like falling down a rabbit hole of discovery. That's not what she wanted right now.

“Before we go in.” She stopped him by the elbow.

Russ’lo gasped behind them at the contact then cleared his throat, straightened his back and looked away.

Holden didn’t seem to mind and pulled her close with an intimate press of his arm around her waist. “Small like a little bird," he mused at her looking down. "What is it?”

Rolling her eyes, “I miss Maksim already. He is the only prince who cares enough for proper courtesy. He at least calls me by name.” Pushing him away against his chest, she heard Russ’lo yelped in alarm. When pushing him off didn’t work, she stomped over his shoe with such force it caught him by surprise. “Don’t hold me like I’m yours.” She grunted, but then the stomp hit merely made his grin stretch wider.

“And yet you sit on my lap like I’m yours.”

Her cheeks instantly heated. “I thought it was a dream where I could have done whatever I damn well like.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, you desire that I’m yours, teh?”

Blushing furiously, “Quit dodging my question”

He pulled back, crossing his arms “You haven’t asked anything yet.”

Caught off guard, “Yeah well, right. I wanted to ask if you don’t mind me asking.”

“We haven’t got much time to spare, little bird. We don’t know how much that snow tribe prince has got before he passes in that lake.”

She let out a shaky sigh “What is the curse that you bear for the dark tribe?” Right as the question left her, something inside her mind rushed upwards to offer itself as solution. It was tempting to read it.

But no.

She had to hear it from Holden.

His grin faltered, then he shook out a deep faltering breath. Humid fog airing from his mouth. It took him a moment and he finally said, “Do you remember the first time we met, I told you that I didn't want to leave?”

“Yeah, you were pretty torn up about being dragged into another universe. Not that it was weird. It was perfectly understandable. I mean nothing could have prepared you for what happened. That would have freaked out anyone too.” She bit her lip, unsure “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell. Come on let’s go inside, I’m in my undies and its freaking freezing.”

Holden took off his heavy overcoat and wrapped it around her shoulders as they stepped across the front door. “We call it the nesting curse.” He said, his voice raspy then he chuckled “I don’t know why I’m even letting you know. Maybe because I needed you to understand. The curse that you broke in me. How much it means to me that it’s gone.”

The coat was amazingly heated and it warmed her up right away as she tightened it snug around her, a brooch pin with the face of a bear kept it in place from falling open. It was a gem-set brooch pin that resembled fine-cut diamonds. “Thanks for this. And you don’t have to thank me for the curse-breaking thing. I was dragged into this as you are. The best thing we can do is come out on the other side and do what needs to be done. After all, we are helping tribespeople aren't we? There's honor in that. Then after everything gets done and secure, I need you to decide what your future looks like. Because I’m not leaving you here, not if you don’t want me to. I have a feeling that I’m the closest thing you have to travel back home.”

“I do miss my home. Now that the curse is gone, I miss it with everything I am.”

Doubts rose up. The thought of summoning the fog hadn't made sense to her. She never understood the mechanics of it. Contrary to what Maksim had taught her, intentions wasn't enough bring up the correct portal. What was she missing?

Clearing her throat, “Your curse?”

“It’s a manner of attunement." He placed a hand over the doorknob. His mood growing contemplative. "It makes me a hardcore creature of habit. I can’t help getting attached to material things, to people, even places. It’s why dark tribespeople aren’t meant to leave home and when they do, it comes at a big celebration.”

He looked so alone. And haunted. She held his hand, the touch went possessive in an instant as he flipped them over and held hers. His hand too big that it caged hers. She met his warm-brown gaze, staring down at her with full commitment.

Not enough air filled her lungs at the full bore of his raw emotions so potent that it etched his face with desperation. “How so?” she whispered, the intensity of his look made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

His face turned to a frown of bitter distaste, kind of how she must have looked when she ate that Kiyerlia porridge.

Russ’lo stood on attention by the pavement close to the house, waiting patiently.

“My attachment clings to a single place, or people, or things or certain activities." The low, guttural rumble of his voice had burrowed under skin, making her shiver. She didn't know it'd be possible to feel close to another person by the feel of their voice. But it was. "It could be anything. It's why we send our young ones for schooling early. We need—" the man said some more stuff, yet the words didn't register. Her senses had grown muted, busted, short-circuiting when he licked his full bottom lip, then she watched it swiping over his upper fangs.

He continued, as she stared dumbly at him. Not really hearing him. "The architecture are finely made to a point of perfection, it’s due to that fact that I haven’t been able to stop doing it ever since I was a child. It was a death-gripping habit. I can’t stop. That’s why I was so torn up about leaving. I got attached to the point of madness.”

“I’m sorry." she forced herself to look into the liquid chocolate of his eyes. "Exile must have been especially hard on you. I can’t imagine.”

“Your world. It has a way of escapism my world could never imagine. It helped.”

She nodded, knocking on the door. “Was it the punk-ass rock music?”

A shy smile. “It did help some."

"Must have been some hell of a time listening to it for the first time."

“Yes,” he chuckled “Never thought I'd survive exile without it. It was a welcome surprise. In my tribe, we are taught to become good at one thing, and have us do it for the rest of our life. I didn't think I had it in me to change. But I do.” His gaze held her prisoner. "It was all worth it."

Before she could reply, the front door opened. A boy appeared with brown curling hair and blue sweater who was about 17 years old. Blackened arcs shadowed under his grey eyes, and it widened as he took in his visitors. “My majesty,” he bowed deeply “I’m yours, Jor’lan from snow tribe. Please come in, you are most welcome. Are you here for the snow princess?”

He tipped his chin down, a steel menace about him that had Jor'lan standing straighter “The watery eternal beast has awoken. Isn’t it the princess’ job to keep it down?”

He jumped back, hands wringing. “She has been working hard, my majesty. She hardly ever eats these days. The dream sickness seems to get harder and harder for her to keep up. Perhaps,” a shadow passed over his features “Perhaps, the curse has taken its toll. Her control is weakening.”

Holden marched forward through the hallways, “I’m here to take over. Show me the way.”

Hope brightened up in Jor'lan “Right over here.” he said, speeding across the hallway with Holden following on his heels, and they were gone.

“Did you see which way they went?” Russ’lo entered the threshold.

“I literally could not follow when you guys speed up like that.”

He looked at her over head-to-toe with a disgusted frown, "Severed one." Dismissing her as he crossed through the foyer to stomp his way through the hallway.

River stayed close to him. “If you’re not speeding or flashing about—“

“It’s called winding,” he clipped, cutting her off.

“Winding.” She nodded. “You don’t have to stay behind on my account.”

“No I don’t,” he grunted, striding around with purpose peeking through the open archways. “They must be at the center hearth.”

With expediency, he jogged. River was able to follow which seemed odd. Looking back to when she first met him at the previous universe, he also jogged. Even in this universe, she couldn’t remember when he “winded”, disappearing in a flash like all the others seemed to do.

There.

It was slight. Barely imperceptible. The man walked with a slight limp, as though his leg was shorter than the other. Severed. U’tu had said to her. A condition that impedes a tribespeople healing abilities. There was more to it than what Me'ren's memories had shown her. Mind coming up empty as she sought to know more about it and realizing that the past oracle hadn't given her the full big picture.

The man closest thing to a google internet search and he was going to upload whatever tribal tidbits he had in this world into her mind no matter what. This instant.

Asking questions like it was her first day in school, it was getting old. Somebody needs to give her the deal, straight-up with no holds barred.

In the previous universe, what they knew of a behagthi was only in myths and legends. It was clear this world knew far more beyond that. And she will be damned if she wasn’t going to get any answers out of those oracles. They were hers to command, a power freely given and one she was going to take full advantage of.

In an inspired attempt, she tried reaching for Me’ren’s mind since Lann’a’s igloo house wasn’t far from theirs.

It was like finding her own way through a dark tunnel, and she had nowhere to go and nowhere to reach. Stumbling around blindly in the dark. Once she managed her concentration, she began to feel for a sense for Me’ren. Funnily enough, it was his scent that drew her to him. A divine scent of freshly baked creams puffs, drizzled with powdered sugar like soft snow. Irresistible. Even though the real man had a grumpy, no-nonsense attitude behind it.

The moment she got close to him, he opened up without hesitation. A welcome arms in greeting, enfolding her mind like it had just arrived home.

Behagthi. Have you found your husband?

Yeah, he got himself in trouble so we're at Lann'a's house right now. But real quick. I need you. Give me all the history you know. Hold nothing back. If you do, I can give back everything you gave me yesterday.

Everything? Including the shop? And the services of our team?

What did I just say? Yes everything now give me info.

Are you serious? Yesterday we gave you a horde, a tribal worth of resources and gems. Including the services of the most renowned craftsmen across all lands and you’re giving it back?

Yeah. I don’t mind. I won it too easy anyway. It didn’t feel right.

A quiet hush fell over their connection.

Russ’lo stopped to look back at her over his shoulder, when she had paused on her tracks.

Me'ren's annoyance was palpable in their thick connection. By Brumcia, you really have no idea what you are giving away. You will soon find out.