Devon’s grey eyes burned with frustration, his jaw tight. “You don’t understand how serious this is, my Celeste.”

“Then explain it,” I said, planting my feet as if I could physically keep him here. My chest tightened at the way he called me my Celeste. Gaia, give me strength. “Because all I see is you leaving to face something we’re better equipped to handle together.”

His lips pressed into a hard line. For a moment, I thought he’d push past me, but instead, he dropped the journal on the desk with a dull thud. “This isn’t simply a matter of finding sigils. The cult doesn’t play fair. They’re ruthless, cunning. If they even suspect you’re able to see their’”

“They’ll come after me,” I finished, glaring at him. “And if I don’t go, they’ll still come after me. I’m the Supreme Successor. This isn’t something we can tiptoe around. Let me help.”

His shoulders stiffened, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. “You’re asking me to risk you.”

“I’m asking you to trust me,” I said, my tone softening as I reached out and brushed his arm. “I’m not some fragile thing you have to protect, Devon. I’m your mate, remember? We’re in this together.”

His brows pulled together as he looked at me like he wanted to argue but but didn’t know where to start. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re infuriating,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” I said with a small smile. “So, are we doing this or not?”

He let out a sharp breath and picked up the journal again. “Fine. But you follow my lead. No running off, no unnecessary risks. If I say stop, you stop. Understood?”

I nodded, ignoring the knot tightening in my stomach. “Understood.”

Devon gave me a long, searching look. Then he gestured toward the door. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The sun was dipping low, stretching shadows across the estate as we headed out. Devon walked ahead, his long, confident strides nearly impossible to keep up with. Broad shoulders, impressive physique, and an aura that made him look untouchable. My gaze drifted without permission, tracing the line of his back to the sway of his coat. Gaia must’ve taken her time sculpting him, I thought, a small, distracted smile pulling at my lips.

Lost in my thoughts, and a few indecent fantasies, I didn’t notice when he stopped abruptly.

I bumped into him with a soft gasp, stumbling back a step. “Oh, for Gaia’s sake,” I muttered, brushing at my coat to save face.

Devon turned, one brow arched in amusement. “Are you okay?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Am I?” I shot back, fussing with the straps on my gloves to avoid meeting his gaze. My eyes flickered past him, taking in everything else.

Two carriages flanked ours, and a small squadron of sentinels stood ready to escort us, their stoic faces as unreadable as Devon’s could be sometimes.

“You’re the one who bumped into me,” Devon said lightly, the faintest grin playing on his lips. “Did something distract you?”

I coughed, my throat suddenly dry. “Nothing worth mentioning,” I said quickly, climbing into the carriage before he could push the issue. Hopefully, the dim interior would mask the blush still burning up my neck.

Behind me, I heard his low chuckle a sound far too smug as he followed, the door closing softly behind him.

He settled into the seat across from me, his legs stretching long enough that the tips of his boots brushed the edge of my skirt. “The settlement near the borderlands,” he began, unrolling a map from his bag. “It’s closest to the last sigil we found. If the pattern holds, the next one won’t be far. We’ll start there and work our way toward the spots you marked.”

I nodded, gripping the leather of my gloves tightly in my lap as the carriage jolted.His intensity was distracting, the way his gaze stayed locked on the map, brow furrowed in thought. I glanced at the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his coat hugged his broad frame, and—stop.

Shaking off the stray thought, I sat up straighter. “Do you really think they’ll follow the same pattern? Doesn’t that seem” predictable for a cult that thrives on chaos?”

He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine for a beat too long. “Maybe. But predictability can be a trap in itself. That’s why we’re not going in blind.”

I nodded, letting the moment settle. He returned to studying the map. His brow furrowed slightly, and the sunlight from the carriage window framed his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw in such a fascinating way. He looked” unreachable, almost, like he belonged to a world entirely different from mine.

And I couldn’t look away.

Every line of his face drew me in. The subtle curl of his lips, the way the sun light danced in his eyes as they roved over the map. Gaia help me, I wanted to reach out, to brush my fingertips along the edge of his jaw. More than that, I wanted to kiss him—wanted it more than I was willing to admit.

I realized I was tapping my lips with my finger and quickly dropped my hand to my lap, heat blooming across my neck. What was he waiting for? Why hadn’t he kissed me yet?

As if he could hear my thoughts, his eyes snapped up to mine, holding steady. My breath caught as I froze.

“Something on your mind, Celeste?” he asked, and his voice pulled me out of my spiralling thoughts.

I blinked, tearing my gaze away and fumbling for a response. “Just” thinking about the map,” I said, the words too soft to sound convincing.

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lips curving just enough to make my heart flutter even more. He didn’t push, but the way he looked at me made it clear he saw through the lie. He held my gaze for a heartbeat longer, like he was daring me to tell him what I was really thinking. When I didn’t, he turned back to that damn map and I’d never hated a piece of paper more.

I exhaled quietly, trying to steady my pulse. The small carriage felt even smaller now, warmer, and the silence was heavier. I shifted in my seat, hoping to shake off the ridiculous hunger coursing through me.

“Do you think they’re targeting specific settlements?” I asked, desperate to refocus. “Or are these attacks completely random?”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he traced a line on the map with his finger. “It’s not random. They’re deliberate. Each sigil has been placed near high-traffic areas or regions with significant magical presence. They’re building toward something.”

He glanced up now. “You seeing the sigils gives us an advantage, Celeste. One we’ve never had before.”

I nodded, fidgeting with the hem of my glove. “No pressure, then,” I muttered.

His brow lifted slightly. “You’re handling it better than most would.”

“Am I?” I said, a short laugh escaping before I could stop it. “Because it feels like I’m barely holding it together.”

His eyes softened as he finally set that map aside, the sound of it closing barely registering in my ears. Then, to my utter surprise, he stood and crossed the very short space between us.

My breath hitched as I watched him. “What are you’”

Before I could finish, he bent down and scooped me up like I weighed nothing.

“Devon!” I half-whispered, half-hissed as he settled into the seat, placing me across his lap with an ease that left me blinking. My hands braced against his chest instinctively, feeling his warmth even through his coat.

“You looked like you were about to unravel,” he said softly, as his eyes locked with mine. “I’m making sure you don’t.”

His arms wrapped around me securely, one hand resting at the small of my back. His touch was anchoring. I hated how much I needed it and, simultaneously, how much I didn’t want him to let go.

“I’m fine,” I muttered.

His lips curved into the faintest smile. “You don’t have to be fine all the time, Celeste. Not with me.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his coat. I couldn’t think of a response, so I stayed quiet. The mental exhaustion that had been coiled tight inside me all day began to loosen, just enough to let the air feel a little lighter.

His hand moved in a slow, soothing circle against my back, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re stronger than you think,” he murmured. “But even the strongest need a moment to breathe.”

I blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. My chest felt tight, and not from the anxiety I’d been clinging to all day, but from something warmer.

“You’re annoyingly good at this,” I said finally.

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “At what?”

“At making me feel things I can’t put into words,” I admitted, the truth slipping out before I could think better of it.

His smile softened. “Good. Because that’s part of my job.”

I allowed myself to exhale, my head leaning lightly against his shoulder. For the first time in hours, I stopped holding the worry of everything. Just for a moment, I let the world and its chaos fall away. Just for a moment, I let it be him and me.

“A question,” he said, pulling me out of the fragile peace. The deep hum of his voice rippled through me, making my head lift as I turned to meet his gaze.

I frowned. “What question?”

His grey eyes held mine. “Do you doubt me when I tell you I feel your emotions, especially when they’re directed at me?”

The question caught me off guard. My brow arched as I tried to figure out where he was going with this. “Where did that come from?”

He didn’t answer right away. His hand came up instead, brushing his fingers lightly along my chin. The touch was careful, sending a spark through me that settled somewhere I couldn’t name.

“If you really want to know what it feels like to kiss me, you should,” he said softly.

Ah, that’s what he meant! My eyes widened slightly at him as my pulse skittering wildly.

“I am, after all, yours, Celeste,” he murmured, his words brushing against my thoughts like a confession and a promise all at once.

I stared at him, my heart twisting in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. His warm hand against my skin, steadying in a way that made everything else feel far less certain. I didn’t want to look away.

For a moment, the only sound was the rhythmic clatter of the wind outside the carriage. Then I swallowed, trying to steady myself even though my pulse had other plans.

“And you’re sure about that?” I asked. I didn’t know if the question was for him or for me.

His lips curved faintly, that flash of mischief glimmering in his eyes. “I’ve never been surer of anything.”

It was disarming in a way that words shouldn’t have been. I didn’t know who moved first, and maybe it didn’t matter.

When his lips met mine, so soft and unhurried, the rest of the world fell away again. All that mattered in that moment was him.