Chapter 92: His mate, not child.
Aveloria pushed the door to her chamber open and stepped inside, letting it shut behind her with a quiet click. The room was dim, lit only by the low glow of the wall lamps. She barely had time to take another step before she noticed Theron.
He was pacing back and forth across the chamber, his hands clasped behind his back, his boots striking the floor in an uneven rhythm. The moment he sensed her presence, he stopped mid-step and turned toward her. His sharp gaze softened the instant he saw her face.
"You look worn out," he said plainly.
Aveloria exhaled, the kind of breath that came from deep in her chest, the type that carried the weight of the entire day. She nodded once and walked farther into the room.
"I feel worn out."
Theron crossed the distance between them but didn’t touch her yet. "How did it go with moving the king?" he asked.
"It went well," she replied. "He’s in the temple now. The cleansing ritual has already begun."
Theron let out a slow breath of relief. "Good."
"It took longer than expected," Aveloria added. "The elders insisted on preparing everything twice over. And Trovald wouldn’t stop hovering."
"He worries," Theron said.
"So do you," she replied, glancing at him.
He didn’t deny it.
She moved toward the bed and sat at its edge, her shoulders slumping forward the moment she did. The tension she’d been holding all day finally started to loosen, leaving behind a dull ache that settled into her bones. She rubbed her hands together absently.
"I stayed at the temple longer than I meant to," she said. "Trovald insisted I leave. He said I looked like I’d collapse if I didn’t rest."
"You should have listened sooner," Theron said gently.
She gave him a tired look. "I know."
Theron finally closed the last bit of distance between them. He stood behind her, hesitated for a moment, then reached out and turned her slightly so her back was to him. He sat down on the bed behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
"Relax," he murmured.
Before she could respond, his thumbs began to work into the tight muscles at the base of her neck. His touch was firm but careful, practiced in a way that made it clear he’d done this before—not out of duty, but care.
Aveloria let out a low sound before she could stop herself.
Theron chuckled. "That bad?"
"You have no idea," she said.
He continued, working slowly, easing the tension bit by bit. Her head tipped forward slightly as she let him. For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
"You’re spoiling me," she said after a while.
"Someone has to. You won’t do it yourself." He replied.
She huffed a weak laugh. "That’s unfair."
"True, but accurate," he admitted.
They fell into silence again, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. His hands moved steadily, and her breathing evened out. For the first time since morning, her thoughts slowed.
Then Theron spoke again.
"About Marek?"
Her body stiffened under his hands. "No," she said immediately. "I don’t want to talk about it."
His hands paused, but didn’t leave her shoulders. "Aveloria, eventually, you have to—"
"I said no."
He sighed softly. "I’m not trying to order you."
"It sounds like you are."
He withdrew his hands and shifted so he was sitting beside her instead. "I’m insisting," he said, his tone calm. "There’s a difference."
Aveloria turned to face him, rolling her eyes as she did. "I need you to stop acting like my father."
Theron raised a brow. "Someone has to keep you in check."
She stared at him. "I am your mate. Not your child."
He studied her for a moment, then reached out, his thumb brushing lightly along her lower lip. "Are you still scared of me?"
Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his thumb.
"Not anymore," she said.
His shoulders relaxed slightly at that. "I’m older than the others," he said after a moment. "I’ve lived longer and seen more. That doesn’t disappear just because I care about you. I act the way I do because I want to protect you."
She tilted her head. "If you have more experience," she said slowly, "does that mean there were many before me?"
His jaw tightened. "Don’t twist my words."
"I’m not twisting anything," she replied, her tone sharpening. "I’m asking."
She oversaw his face. "Is there someone else?"
Theron straightened. The playfulness he’d carried earlier vanished completely. "There was," he said.
Her chest tightened. "Was?"
"For a decade."
Her eyes widened. "A decade?"
"Come on, princess—"
"Don’t call me that!" she snapped, rising abruptly from the bed.
Theron lifted his hands in surrender. "Fine."
She paced a few steps away, her back to him now. Her hands clenched at her sides.
"I don’t like being kept in the dark," she said.
"I’m not trying to," he replied. "You didn’t ask before."
She turned back to him sharply. "That doesn’t make it better."
He nodded. "You’re right."
Silence stretched between them, thick but not hostile.
"I ended it," he said finally. "Before I pledged myself to you. Completely. There is no other woman in my life."
She studied him, searching his face for any sign of dishonesty.
"My loyalty is to you," he continued. "To your kingdom. To you, as my Queen."
"I want to believe you," she said quietly.
He stood and slowly approached her, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. She didn’t.
"I’m not going to betray you. I’ve sworn myself to you in every way that matters." Theron said, his tone soft and sincere. His fingers lifted her chin slightly. "I swear. There’s no one else."
She swallowed. "You don’t sound like someone who lies."
"I’m not," he said. "Not to you."
Aveloria let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
"I know you don’t want to talk about Marek," he added. "But someday, you’ll have to face it. You can’t keep carrying it alone."
She didn’t respond.
