Morning dawned with a gray sky and heavy mist as Azael and Gaelen made their way back to camp from scouting the foothills ahead. They had risen well before the sun was up to do so, although technically it should've been Gaelen alone. Azael had offered to join him when he woke and saw the male preparing to leave.

    Not that it hadn't been difficult to draw himself away from Tissaia's sleeping figure, but he knew it wasn't wise for anyone to go off on their own, no matter how capable they were, and he wanted the Cahirim warriors to be well rested for the fight ahead.

    The mist had begun just before sunrise and now, Azael's hair hung wet with it while grass glistened beneath his boots. He smoothed hair back from his face before letting his newly scarred hand fall to grip Orilight's warm hilt. Raxys was sheathed at his back for a change, as he wanted to carry both weapons with ease and not have them bulking at his hips.

    Gaelen's dark brown gaze had followed his movement, Azael noticed when he glanced at the male. Whether he was looking at the sword or his hand, he didn't know, but he wasn't left curious for long. "Your father was furious when he found out the sword was gone," Gaelen said.

    "He went so far as calling you a thief and threatening to punish you as such before one of the counselors reminded him that you have as much claim to the sword as he does. Even more so now, it would seem. He won't be pleased that the sword glows for you."

    "My father is rarely pleased," Azael replied. "But...is it true that he went even more mad?"

    Gaelen dipped his chin. "He began lashing out at everyone. The counselors, the gods, the Queen, you... He smashed out one of the stained glass windows of Oriana in the palace sanctum, cursing her as he did so. Lord Roshan had him cloistered in his chambers after that, and he began to take over most of the court proceedings. No one else even tried."

    "They just allowed him to imprison my father?" Azael spat, his fist tightening around Orilight's hilt.

    "They believed it was for his own safety, and frankly, I believe that too. I was guarding the King for a time before I was dispatched to track you down. Sometimes he is calm and simply moves about the room, demanding something to keep himself occupied with, but there were times when he lost it all over again."

    "He destroyed so many things that the servants finally cleared his room of anything breakable, even the lighter furniture, and we shielded his windows and the balcony doors so he couldn't break them open."

    Azael lowered his gaze, guilt sweeping through him. His father had never been a truly stable male, but if he had been the one to push Mavron over the edge and drive him to insanity...

    How could he return to Arcan and all but overthrow the male now? It could be his final breaking point. But if Mavron was so far gone, how could he allow him to continue dragging his kingdom into ruin? Azael massaged his temples with a weary sigh.

    "It's not your fault," Gaelen added. "According to many of the older counselors, your father always had such a temper as a child, and was prone to moments of derangement."

    "Do you think he can come back from this?" Azael asked.

    "In a sense, yes, but I don't believe the counselors will ever respect or trust him again." Gaelen cast him a critical glance. "What do you intend to do when we return to Arcan?"

    "What I must, for Asterria's sake," he answered vaguely. Already, he was beginning to understand what that would have to be. He only hoped he could be strong enough to deliver such a blow to his father, and wise enough to convince the counselors to accept him.

    Gaelen continued to watch him, but thankfully didn't push for further answers. Instead, he only bowed his head, and said, "I am glad you'll have a female of equal strength and determination at your side then. You'll need her."

    Azael's mouth tilted into a smile. They resumed the silence of before as they continued the rest of the way back to camp. By the time they arrived, everyone else had already risen. Several people were eating hasty meals while others wiped down and saddled the horses. Azael bowed his head to them as they passed by, but didn't stop to speak with them.

    He was already itching to have Tissaia back in his sight, and the overwhelming need of it caught him by surprise. He'd always heard that the formation of a mating bond developed intense instincts and emotions within the mated pair, but to experience them for himself was nothing like he expected.

    It certainly put much of Talarion and Kaius's behavior into perspective, especially after all the times Kaius would wake from one of his visions. If Tissaia had to endure the same thing night after night, he doubted he would have the decency to remain even half as composed as Talarion had.

    Azael smiled as a sense of anticipation filtered from that shining tether a moment before he caught sight of Tissaia. She was already hurrying towards him and he swept her into a tight embrace as soon as she was in reach, ignoring Gaelen's faint chuckle behind him. The male continued past, however, leaving them alone.

    "I don't like waking up to find you gone," Tissaia huffed finally, pushing away from him. "You could at least tell me you're leaving."

    "You used to count the minutes until I was gone," Azael teased, flicking her chin with his knuckle.

    She jerked her head out of reach and rolled her eyes. "I can always pick that habit up again. Where did you go?"

    "Scouting with Gaelen. No sign of any Lochren warriors, but there was evidence of some refugees moving through the area a few days ago."

    Tissaia suppressed a faint shudder and combed her fingers through his damp hair, smoothing it out of his face. "What if that was my father's group trying to cover their activity?"

    "It's possible, but honestly, I think your father is already further ahead, if not in Lochren by now."

    "That's what Talarion suspects too," she sighed.

    Azael slid an arm around her waist and touched a light kiss to her temple. "It doesn't matter how far ahead of us he is. He will not succeed. We'll make sure of it, my Love."

•༻☽☾༺•

    Mist gave way to a light rain that dampened Talarion's face as he swung onto his horse. Already, his braided hair was frizzing from all sides and Tissaia didn't seem any better. Vaeldan, however, fared worst of all. His brown hair had almost tripled in volume and drops of water clung to the curls that had all but exploded at the top of his head.

    Talarion couldn't stand to look at him for long. It stirred up the memory of Kaius's unruly hair, and that thought left sorrow strangling his heart in unending torture. All he could do was feel the scar on the tip of his finger and assure himself that he wouldn't have to live with it for long.

    By tomorrow or the day after, they would reach Lochren, and his father would meet his end. He could hold himself together until then. He could ignore his unraveling, frayed edges. The weariness and despair that had burrowed into his very bones. The utter lack of care he had for anyone anymore.

    Even Tissaia was barely poking into his thoughts now. But he could hold out, just a little longer. Talarion didn't stir when his sister rode up beside him. They just waited in silence until the group moved out, and took up their positions towards the outskirts of it today.

    He felt Tissaia's gaze slide to him several times before she finally addressed him. "Azael and Gaelen want to discuss our plans for infiltrating the manor in detail later."

    "All right." Tissaia bit her lip and her left hand tightened around her mount's reins. Talarion caught the movement from the corner of his eye. "You and Azael left camp last night," he remarked. "And something seems different today."

    There was obviously something she wanted to tell him, but for whatever reason, she was hesitating. She continued to do so for several minutes, until she finally breathed a sigh and held out her hand, letting him see the fresh pink scar across her palm. His heart stuttered and ice pierced his veins before spiking into the pit of his stomach. He sucked down a few rapid breaths to steady himself.

    "You're bonded to him," he breathed, not trusting himself to speak louder for fear of what his voice might betray.

    Not outrage because of what they had done, but fear for Tissaia's future. Fear that she would someday be left the same hollowed out husk that he was, overwhelmed by the same ravenous wolves of misery that gorged themselves upon him.

    "Yes," Tissaia replied. "I asked him to claim it last night. I had to, after what you shared with me."

    His eyes burned of their own volition and it took more strength than he wanted to admit to wrestle his body back into submission. To clamp down the sobs that threatened to escape him and force himself to remain calm. Glimpses of his own past flickered through his vision.

    That forest glade where Kaius had cut both of their hands and clasped them together, claiming their own bond. The sweet pain that had followed when he carved the eight scars on Talarion's back. The braids they'd found connecting their hair the morning after, and the tiny handprints around his scars that Kaius had told him came from the healing touch of the Little Gods.

    He'd never felt such joy and completion as in those moments, and now... Even now, he couldn't will the bond away, but gods, how he wished he could be free of this icy pain. Tissaia reached across the gap between them and gripped his arm.

    "You don't have to be happy for me," she said. "I know your feelings must be conflicted on the matter. But you must respect that this was our choice."

    "I do respect it," Talarion answered. "He is more deserving of you now than any male ever will be." His voice fell lower. "But for your sake, I hope you die before him." Let Azael be the one to live with such anguish. His sister had experienced more than enough for one lifetime.

    "Is it truly so bad?" Tissaia asked softly.

    "It's like the most integral part of myself has been ripped out. Like a part of me has died, and the rest of me was left behind to suffer." He blinked swiftly as tears threatened to build once more. "Everything Father put us through pales in comparison to this."

    "Do you regret it?"

    He closed his eyes, letting his head slip lower. "I could never regret anything that happened between us," he murmured. "I love him more than life itself. Our bond, and knowing that he was out there, that he loved me, was the one thing that pulled me through so much of what Father did to me."

    Talarion managed to meet his sister's gaze once more. "Kaius would be happy for you, Tiss. I am too, but the greatest joy is not without the deepest sorrow. Be happy while you can be. Love him as though every minute could be the last you ever spend together."

    "Rejoice in the fact that death will not separate you for long. And remember this in the days to come. I think...it will help you understand." Tissaia only nodded, asking no further questions.