We’d lodged at Rosewood Creek for a little over a month, and we’d made the decision to leave that afternoon. Physically, Luca was fully healed, and the quiet and rest had done wonders for the both of us, but with the threat of my father looming, it was time to depart. My mate was understandably disheartened. Six weeks was not enough to bond with the male his curiosity had chased for twenty-seven years, but he felt more at ease with the knowledge that he was welcome to return. Zadok was no longer a stranger, and now knowing the circumstances of his absence, Luca was keen to make up for lost time, to build the relationship they’d missed out on all those years. They were unbelievably alike in many ways, to the point that my blood pressure would spike whenever they wandered off together as there was every chance they’d find something mildly dangerous to invest in—a lack of self-preservation was clearly a family trait. They had much in common, similar interests, and of course, their shared gift, so I doubted they’d take long to navigate their way to a healthy kinship.

They were already bounding down the right path.

He had also made incredible progress with his magic, and I was convinced he had devoured every book his father had offered on the subject. He was dedicated, determined to hone his skill and eager to enhance his means to defend himself—to defend us—should the need arise. I was more proud of him than words could describe. He was the most talented and intelligent creature I had ever met, and I knew he would make a difference in this world.

Even if he didn’t yet believe it himself.

“I want to check on my apricot tree before we go,” he spoke again, his excitement evident in his tone. “I finally managed to get it to the seedling stage, so I’d like to ward it, make sure it’s protected until I come back. Not that Zadok will let anything happen to it, but I want it to be my project and my project alone, y’know? I want to see what happens, good or bad.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, he let out an exclamation, and green light gathered in his palm. He held it out, making a beckoning gesture with his fingers until a scroll from the shelf at the other side of the room came floating toward him. He snatched it out of the air before wrestling it into his pack.

I raised an amused brow in his direction.

It took him a beat to sense my stare, but his movements faltered, and he peered up at me. “What?”

“I believe you are showing off, sweetheart.”

“I am not.” He scoffed indignantly, then he thought about it. “Well, maybe a little. Are you impressed?”

“I am,” I said easily. “You impress me, sweetling. In everything that you do.”