41. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Celeste
I have good news to share, if you have a moment?
Derikles’ words promised hope, and Celeste shivered despite the raging summer heat. Eager to hear what he offered, she replied, Shall I come to you?
Please.
Celeste linked to his psychic signature. Part of her remained pessimistic. Even if he had discovered something that helped Isaiah in some way, it wouldn’t be a guarantee it would do the same for Nina.
Celeste found Derikles standing on a roof. It was nestled into the side of a mountain, and the desert stretched as far as the eye could see. The modern home beneath her feet was connected to the red rock of the Utah landscape, clearly expensive but far too sparse for her taste.
She gave a mocking curtsy. “Hello Derikles. Immortal Liaison, at your service.”
This time, his grin was ready and endearing. “Celeste. Thank you for coming.”
When he turned his entire body to face her, she nearly melted at the intensity of his attention. Here, in the heat of the desert and below the shining noonday sun, Derikles was even more impressive.
The ink on his skin radiated danger, and the gages in his ears were a solid matte black that seemed to swallow up light. Today, he wore a simple t-shirt which clung to his muscular chest.
“What’s the news?”
“Isaiah has seen improvement.”
Her eyes widened. “How? What happened? What did you do?”
“We began to Amp him through the clan bonds. Within two days, he stabilized, and this morning, his eye color returned.” His positivity was infectious, and Celeste beamed back at him. “What’s more, is that we’ve been amping him since the beginning, but only with this method did it actually stick. Celeste, I think there’s hope.”
Celeste launched herself into his arms before she’d thought it through.
Rich coffee and dark chocolate assaulted her senses, scrambling her brain, as she squeezed him for all he was worth. The man held her just as fiercely, his deep, good-natured chuckle tumbling from his lips.
“Tell me exactly what you did—we have to do the same for Nina.”
As he explained, she took detailed notes and quickly put two and two together.
“It makes sense,” she said.
“Why would it be any different now?” Derikles asked. “Surely in ages past, a healer would’ve attempted it.”
“Think about it. We have feeding tubes now, machinery to help keep them alive for longer periods of time. Before, how long would they have lasted without that? A couple of weeks at most? Modern technology gave them the ability to hold on until we could figure out how to help them.”
Ten minutes later, it was all she could do to keep her composure as she stole through the door of Zeke and Nina’s home. Tzuriel and Kaien were already there, speaking in critical tones while Zeke observed but didn’t interfere.
He didn’t seem fully present, which had become the way of things recently. The moment Nina had fallen unconscious, her mate had lost a part of himself, too.
“I have news about Isaiah,” she said. “Derikles Amped him through their clan bonds—directly into the well of his power. Kaien—Isaiah has completely stabilized. His eye color is normal again, and his psychic energy is finally refilling. He could wake up .”
No more prompting was needed. The healer spun on his heel and marched straight for the bedroom where his sister lay sleeping, quickly followed by everyone else.
Seeing Nina asleep on the bed always rocked Celeste. For a woman who’d been so vibrant, her still and weak form was disconcerting. But she didn’t dwell on that fact, nor on Zeke becoming uneasy behind her. If there was even a chance Nina would improve, they owed it to her to try.
“Zeke,” Kaien said, “can you separate your clan bond to Nina from your mating bond and start Amping her?”
Their sovereign looked stricken. “Kaien …”
The moment he paused, Celeste knew something was wrong. Zeke would do everything possible for his mate, and the hesitation she saw on his features didn’t bode well.
“Perhaps you could start today, Kaien?” Tzuriel prompted.
“Yes,” Zeke’s voice hitched, “if you could do it today, I’d really appreciate it.”
Celeste’s stomach dropped. She knew the sovereign had been running on fumes, the same way they all had been. But for Zeke to be unable to Amp Nina meant the situation was far more dire than she believed.
The healer took it in stride. “I’ll funnel energy to her through clan bonds today. If you’re up for it tomorrow, Zeke, then you can give it a go.”
“Of course.”
Celeste knew at once the confirmation was false. Much sooner than anyone had anticipated, they’d have to discuss what Zeke’s energy drain would amount to for the clan.
“Did Derikles say anything else, Celeste?”
“He explained the process but couldn’t account for the difference.” She shrugged. “But it makes sense. The Amp gift is generally used to bolster abilities, and your healing gifts are used for the body and mind. None of them directly impact psychic energy. By funneling the Amp through clan bonds, the charge goes directly into their well of power. It’s a different kind of effect.”
She turned to Zeke. “Derikles is already reaching out to Luna so she can try it on Key. Let’s hope that this works for all three of them.”
***
For Nina, the turnaround time was quicker. By the end of the first day, she’d already stabilized. Celeste had come to check on her multiple times throughout the day. They had been offered hope, and she’d snatched it. Knowing Isaiah, Key, and Nina were improving made the entire clan collectively hold their breath.
On the morning of the third day, Zeke entered and placed a reverent kiss on Nina’s forehead. The twins, seeing the door was open, scooted in after him, a ball of riotous energy and dueling voices.
The sovereign’s transformation was immediate.
Grinning broadly, his features lost the look of hopelessness and despair. He continued to reassure his twins that nothing was wrong, and their mommy was just sleeping.
“We’ll see mommy later, okay?” He tickled Zak as he edged closer to Nina, the young boy peering up over the side of the bed and babbling nonsensically to his mom. “Let’s go get breakfast.”
“’Cakes?”
“Yeah, we can do pancakes.”
The toddlers scrambled out of the room, leaving Zeke behind. His features returned to the blank look of despair as he followed them out. Blinking back tears, Celeste closed her novel. She had to get away, before she fell prey to the same grief.
Her answer was Derikles.
She’d been meaning to let him know it’d worked for days. Her mental ping was answered straight away.
Celeste?
Nina’s improving, she gushed. Derikles, she might wake up!
That’s amazing news, his mental voice purred. I’d love to compare notes if you’re open to stopping by?
Thin threads of anticipation sparked in her blood. This time, his signature called her straight into his home.
It did not look like she expected it to. A full wall of books framed one side of the den, and art was showcased on the three remaining walls. A reading chair sat in a cozy reading nook, the crimson fabric matching the art.
The man waiting for her was even more fascinating, his emerald eyes shining with anticipation. He stood to greet her.
“Your suggestion worked! Her vitals have stabilized, too.”
“I’m glad to hear it! Has the white faded from her eyes?”
“Not yet, but we’re hopeful.”
And they truly were. For the first time since it happened, the tension in Nina’s closest family and friends had de-escalated. Kaien had even cracked a smile the other day when Celeste made an admittedly terrible joke. Aidan was still running around trying to collect every lone wolf like a hell hound on steroids, had stopped long enough to have a conversation of more than three words.
Instead of beaming at Derikles like a besotted fool, she opted to wander toward the bookshelf and read a few titles as she spoke. “Kaien has continued the double nutrition regimen with the IVs. For the first time since it happened, he’s actually hopeful.”
Spinning, she said, “Thank you for giving us hope.”
“Of course. We’re in this together.”
At the kindness in his gaze, the woman who’d lost her best friend wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob. Something about him made her feel safe. When everything at home had become hopeful but tangled with tension, the quiet of Derikles’ home allowed the knots in her stomach to untie.
Celeste turned her attention back to his library as weariness swamped her. Rubbing at her breastbone to ease the discomfort that’d spread across her chest, her eyes closed for longer than a standard blink.
“Are you okay?”
Knowing that he’d seen her struggle—and had reached out to comfort her—made it difficult for her to ignore what had happened. Her features pinched, attempting to withhold the tears that’d already formed behind her eyes, but she failed.
Celeste locked her jaw as she grappled with her fear, despair, and loneliness. She had held all of it inside, trying to keep her shields up to help her clan when they needed her most.
When Derikles’ hand gently settled on her shoulder, she collapsed in on herself, her hands coming up to cover her face, embarrassed and overemotional and so, so tired. The stress of dealing with Nina’s injury and losing her best friend and her home caught up with her, bubbling out from her throat in a whimper.
That was when Derikles pulled her directly into his arms—and she let him. Although she didn’t know him, the tenderness he displayed and the soft way his chest rumbled as he spoke kind words was far more comforting than anything else until this moment.
Derikles whispered to her that everything would be alright and that’d he’d be here for her when she needed him. There were gentle strokes through her loose hair while his cheek rested on her head.
She sniffled and gave a tragic laugh. “I’ve made a mess of your shirt.”
“Fortunately, I do have another one.”
His deep chuckle rumbled from within his chest, and by instinct, her hand settled on his breastbone to feel the vibration. Derikles didn’t seem to mind, and his fingers gently closed over hers.
At the thought of returning to Ontario, her stomach dropped. Hiding in Derikles’ home seemed safe, like a reprieve.
“May I stay here for a bit? I just need to not be there for a while.”
“Stay as long as you’d like.”
***
There was a startling lack of color in Utah. Unlike Missouri, where a summer day could bring any number of colors, the desert seemed mostly made up of reds and creams. If Celeste had had her camera, she would’ve been out all day taking pictures, trying to find the best spots and the perfect tree. Photography had always been a passion of hers, and her clan lands had been her favorite location. A half smile began curving her lips until she realized it was no longer home.
Missouri would likely never be home again, especially if Nina wouldn’t wake up. In her heart, she realized that the blood-soaked ground would feel different when she’d come to accept what had happened.
The clatter of a pan had her eyes drawing up and to the door of Derikles’ guest bedroom. Though Raeths typically only needed four hours of sleep on any given day, she’d slept almost nine last night. The sun was already shining.
Derikles must’ve noticed she was up.
He had a keen mind. The more time she spent with him, the easier she saw past his introverted and reserved nature. It was in sharp contrast to the vibrant swirls of ink on his skin and the gages in his ears. His body art spoke loudly, even if he didn’t.
Celeste couldn’t believe she’d broken down last night. At the first inkling of empathy, she’d blubbered like a hormonal teenager.
Choosing her favorite outfit—fishnets, the sleek purple corset that she adored, and a black miniskirt—she softly padded out toward the source of sound.
The hungry, heated look he gave her was worth any crying she’d done last night.
He wore a graphic tee, large black lettering spanning over white, and a pair of casual sweatpants that hung low on his waist. Sleep ruffled, his chocolate-brown hair looked as though he’d run a hand through it and couldn’t be bothered to set it to rights.
He looked positively delectable, and her tongue snaked out to lick her lips.
“Sleep well?”
“Surprisingly well, all things considered. It’s been a while since I got that much rest.” Then, she narrowed her eyes speculatively. “I don’t usually sleep away the day, just in case you were wondering.”
“Noted.”
Finally able to take her eyes off the man, she made a show of appraising his kitchen. The cabinetry was a surprising shade of ocean blue, matching the backsplash, but the counters and island were black and stainless steel. It was sleek, modern, and entirely too clean.
“Do you ever eat in here, or is it just for show?”
“Are you asking if I prefer fast food or can actually chop onions?” He chuckled and motioned for her to take a seat while he pulled a box from the cupboard. “Neither, actually. I detest fast food, and I can’t chop an onion without becoming a sobbing mess.”
“Same.” She set her elbows on the countertop. “How in the world do you ever keep all this stainless steel clean?”
“Magic.”
She studied him while he turned on the stove. “Would you rather be trapped in a room with snakes or spiders?”
“Back to that are we?”
“Well, I assume you’re making breakfast.” A casual, one shoulder shrug. “The polite thing to do would be to make conversation.”
Looking up from whisking pancake batter, he asked, “Why do I get the feeling that isn’t your modus operandi?”
“Making conversation?”
“Being polite.”
“Probably because you’re far keener than the average bear.”
The Raeth threw her a mocking expression. “Much experience with bears, then?”
“Answer the question.” Celeste gave herself a good mental shake to stop flirting … too much.
One pancake, two. Three.
“Snakes,” he finally said. “I’d much rather be tangled up with boas and rattlers than with a black widow. Spiders are vicious; they could care less if you drop dead ten feet away. What about you?”
“We’re not talking about me.”
Waving a dismissive hand, she opened her mouth to ask the second question, but he wasn’t ready to let it go. “Oh yes, we are. Snakes or spiders?”
Celeste thought it over. Derikles’ eyes flicked to the purple lip stain she’d applied that morning for an instant, before he focused on the pancakes again.
“Spiders, but only if they’re massive. I can’t do the little ones; they freak me out.” At his appreciative nod, she asked him another. “Do you, or have you ever had, a fear that seems silly?”
A faint blush hinted on Derikles’ cheeks. Now Celeste was invested.
“I hate automatic sliding doors.”
“Doors?!”
His pink cheeks had her nearly fanning herself. Embarrassment kept his eyes averted as he explained further. “Yeah, the doors into a supermarket or a mall? I hate it when you’re almost to the doors and they start closing. Even elevator doors freak me out.”
Trying her hardest to keep from laughing, Celeste nodded sagely. “I can see how you’d be freaked out. Super scary.”
“Alright then, tell me yours.”
“Oh.” She was suddenly coy. “I, uh, I have trypophobia.”
“Which is?”
“An aversion to seeing clusters of small holes or bumps.” She gave herself a shake to rid her mind of the mental image. “It freaks me out.”
“Wow.”
“Wow what?”
A smug grin. “Mine doesn’t seem so bad now.”
Both of them chuckled, and he grabbed syrup and butter and slid them in front of her. Topped with fresh cut strawberries and blueberries, Celeste was absolutely in love with his flapjacks and couldn’t resist telling him multiple times throughout the meal. She’d cleaned her plate and barely refrained from licking it clean.
It was long past time to thank him and return to clan lands, but part of her continued to yearn for the time away. The thought of returning to Ontario, even after a blissful night away, still set her off balance. As real life set in, her shoulders slumped.
“Come on, get your mind off going back.” Derikles tilted his head toward the hallway in invitation. “You can sit for me.”
“Painting or photography?”
He tossed a teasing look over his shoulder but didn’t answer. She shadowed him anyway, following him through a loop of hallways until he led her into a gallery full of canvases and painting supplies.
Celeste took a moment to merely soak it all in. Brilliant lighting shone over where his canvas was set up, the stacks of paintbrushes were perfectly aligned, and the blank canvases were cornered in a neat row.
Derikles put a chair in the middle of the room, sweeping his hand down gracefully in invitation. “Your throne, milady.”
She’d never been so thrilled to strike a pose.
An hour later, she’d become enthralled with the man. The way his eyes studied every single part of her was like a caress. Derikles would observe her intensely, then hide behind his easel while he stroked paint over canvas.
Though she didn’t dare move, her eyes eagerly devoured the room. His work was exceptionally realistic, and her anticipation rose with every one of his brush strokes.
Celeste didn’t know how long she sat there.
An hour. Two. Three, even.
Nothing had ever been quite as freeing as being completely still. She didn’t fidget or bounce. She didn’t have to think about where to place her hands or shift her body. Everything had already been thought out, and she finally had a moment to take a deep breath . It was the peace that she’d been missing.
When he sat back in his chair and began a scrutinizing review of the portrait before him, Celeste finally spoke. “Done?”
“Done.”
His smirk was everything. Leaping to her feet, she skidded over to where he sat. She barely suppressed a gasp.
Instead of the lifelike colors she’d expected, he’d used only pinks, purples, and yellows. A deep violet so dark it resembled true black. Her face was cast in striking color, but the resemblance was uncanny.
“Derikles, this is amazing.” Breathless, her fingers gently curled around his forearm, noting the coiled strength she found beneath her touch.
“It’s yours.”
Eyes flaring, she exclaimed, “I can’t take this from you, Derikles! This is … unbelievable. It’s a work of art!”
“Generally, yes, painting acrylics on canvas does make something art. But in either case, it’s yours.”
She reached her fingers out as if to touch it, then quickly retracted them in fear of ruining his masterpiece. Celeste shook her head as she took in every angle, every glint of light. “This is so beautiful.”
“I had a beautiful subject.”
Celeste’s cheeks flamed. “Flirt.”
A deep chuckle made her blush deeper, and her eyes fixated on the painter’s pallet. On a wild hair, she ran a single finger through the royal purple and pivoted back. Striking out, Celeste swiped the paint over his cheekbone, celebrating his brief look of surprise.
“There.” Studying her work, she nodded happily. “Now I’ve painted you, too.”
Surprise turned into a sly smirk. But then, his attention dropped to her lips, half blinking while his parted. Slowly, deliberately, he refocused on her, a question in his gaze.
A deep need had begun drumming through her bones. When she inched forward, drawn by an invisible string, that was it.
Their mouths collided possessively. Done denying the connection they had, Derikles’ arms cinched around her with undeniable ownership. While his lips were soft, there was nothing gentle about his claim.
His confidence was like a drug. The kiss stormed through her defenses and left her demanding more, desperate for him. Celeste’s skin heated as he nipped at the line of her jaw. Shuddering, her hand dove into his hair, silk against the sensitive inner flesh of her fingers.
An array of sensations rioted through her, but there was a delay in recognizing the one fighting for dominance. It tore at her sudden joy as though it was a black hole content on consuming every scrap of happiness she’d found.
Guilt .
As soon as she stopped responding, he withdrew. “Celeste?”
Confusion and apology tugged his eyebrows together. Her sudden detachment went unexplained as she whispered, “I can’t.” A bitter shake of her head as tears pricked behind her eyes. “I have to go.”
And with no further explanation, she teleported back to Ontario.