Iven POV
Iven couldn't sleep. He'd heard Miandra's words echo long after she walked away, and though he understood why she said them, he hated that her honesty had made his mate cry.
What hurt even more was hearing those quiet, fragile sniffles drifting from two doors away.
He wanted to go to her. Hold her. Ease it.
But he stayed where he was, jaw tight, hands clenched.
He heard the footsteps before the knock.
Great. What did she want now? He didn't need anyone's pity.
"Come in," he said flatly.
Ariel walked in with that same effortless grace she always carried— as his half sister she was his opposite in every way.
Where he was harsh edges and closed doors, she was soft smiles and bright rooms. He'd watched men, mated or not, crumble instantly under her gaze. Why she had that effect was still a mystery.
To him, she was simply a pest.
A beautiful, irritating pest who was clearly here to disturb the little peace he had left.
"I assume you're not planning to stop her?" she asked.
"I don't really care."
"You're a terrible liar, Iven," she said, then continued before he could respond.
"You know she only said what came to her mind as a human. And she's been crying ever since she realized you'd be the one hurting."
He looked away, jaw twitching.
"I've seen her eyes," Ariel said softly. "She's not a bad person. She's spent her whole life being the odd one out, and the only place she's ever felt like herself is the human world. Anyone would be terrified if something came along threatening the only world that ever accepted them. You have to try to understand her, Iven."
"Oh, of course," he muttered bitterly. "Iven has to understand everyone, but no one has to understand Iven."
"You know I don't mean it that way," she shot back. "And don't play dumb. You know exactly what I'm saying."
She stepped closer.
"The heavens brought her to you for a reason. I feel it. Deep in my bones. This connection… it's not something that should be broken. Something is coming, Iven. And your spirit reached out to her before she even came here. I saw it.
You've always been a fighter. So what's stopping you now?"
"Maybe I'm tired of fighting," he said quietly. "I was fine being alone. I liked the peace."
"Oh please," she scoffed. "What peace? Don't bullshit me. You've been lonely and pathetic for decades.
And look—here you are talking to me. Tell me the last time that happened."
She was right.
Of course she was.
But he wasn't about to admit it.
"We talk all the time, Ari."
"Oh really? Name one time."
He sighed heavily, finally sitting up and facing her.
"What exactly do you want me to do, Ari?"
"I want you to fight. That's all."
"She's leaving tomorrow," he said quietly. "And you said it yourself—she's terrified of coming back to this life. She's comfortable in the human world. Dragging her back here, to strangers… I doubt she'd be happy."
Ariel rolled her eyes.
"Idiot. Who said anything about bringing her here? She's human, Iven. If you want to win her, you do it the human way."
"If you haven't noticed," he snapped softly, "I have no idea what that even means or what to do."
"Then you learn."
She folded her arms.
"She's leaving tomorrow. Just look into her eyes. If she looks at you with hatred, let her go. But if she doesn't… then you have a reason to try. Even if she can't feel the pull."
He exhaled slowly.
"Fine. I'll do it.
Now can you please leave me to my thoughts."
"Gladly," she said, smiling.
But at the door, she paused and looked back at him.
"It's the first time in decades you've called me Ari."
She smiled again and closed the door gently.
A small ache bloomed in his chest.
She was right — they had drifted so far apart after the last war.
Maybe this was a sign. A good one.
He tuned his senses to his mate.
Her soft breaths.
Her tiny snore.
Her steady heartbeat.
And for the first time in a long time, Iven drifted into sleep minutes later.