* * *

He was having as much fun watching Veralie gawk at the figures below them, as she was having watching them all bustle about the dock. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, and her hands clutched the rail tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

Even with her scarred ears and odd mannerisms as a constant reminder, it was easy to forget sometimes that she’d only ever been around humans before now—that she could remember, at least.

She leaned farther over the rail. “Why do they all look like they’re panicking?”

He didn’t bother following her gaze, too busy absorbing her ever-changing expressions. “They know my ship.”

She tore her eyes off the workers to give him a side-eyed look. “You’re that important? I thought you were just a scout?”

“I’m not just a scout,” he said, eyes narrowing. “But no, it’s technically my fathers who are important. They likely sent word to Ocridal to keep a close watch for me when I didn’t return when I should have. I can almost guarantee a messenger has already left to carry word of my arrival back to Naris.”

“You said they’re advisors to King Vesstan, right?”

He raised a brow at her formality but made no comment. It wasn’t his business to press the subject of her family until she was ready to talk about it. She hadn’t known the truth for long, let alone met the male who’d sired her.

“Dedryn is an advisor, yes. He has been since before I was born. Jaeros, however, is more of an unofficial one. He only gets involved to support Dedryn.”

“And the king allows that? Just because they’re mates?”

“More or less. Jaeros is also well-known and respected.”

“Then why isn’t he an actual advisor?”

“He’s not of noble blood. His parents were cooks in the palace. That’s actually how he and Dedryn met. You’ll have to ask him about it sometime, it’s quite the story.”

She frowned. “I guess I didn’t realize noble blood mattered that much here. You’re all Magyki with the same gifted blood. Why would family lines matter?”

He pushed off from the rail, gesturing for her to follow, and headed for the rope ladder he’d tossed over the side earlier. He was more than ready to have both feet on solid ground.

“We are. You have to stop thinking of Magyki as different from you. We’re the same, Veralie.”

She grumbled behind him but kept her retort to herself as she threw her leg over the side and followed him down.

“Bhasura is not barbaric,” he continued, stepping onto the dock and reaching out a hand to help her off. “Unlike Aleron, we do not underestimate our females, and all Magyki are granted the freedom to earn a comfortable living. But do not mistake that for meaning our society is perfect.”

Pulling her in, he leaned his face toward hers, his chest rumbling with pleasure when she responded without thought. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she tipped her head back, parting her lips.