Chapter 26 #3
Wren returned at a run, holding a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. “Here, I got you something sugary too. I thought it might help.”
Rain helped Jay sit, feeling a fresh spike of pain in Jay’s torso and siphoned it away instantly.
Jay blinked. “What the… did you just take my pain away?”
“Apparently I can do that now,” Rain said with a helpless shrug, the pain still flickering in his eyes. He settled behind Jay, legs bracketing him, letting Jay lean back against his chest. “Drink. Eat. You still feel weak.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt this badly?” Wren scolded softly. “You should be at home resting.”
Jay’s shoulders curled inward as if trying to make himself smaller. “I didn’t want to let the team down,” he mumbled. “Or make anyone worry.”
Rain exhaled slowly, the kind of breath that carried frustration and fear in equal measure. Jay’s pulse fluttered under his palm, too quick, too strained.
“We worry whether you tell us or not,” Rain said.
“And putting yourself at risk puts all of us at risk. I’m already blaming myself for not having my channel open and sensing a problem.
Wren’s blaming herself for not checking you over.
We all feel responsible, even though this happened because of our relationship. ”
Jay’s gaze flickered, guilt tightening his jaw. Rain dipped his head, resting his chin lightly on Jay’s hair, grounding both of them.
“If you want to be brave and put your life at risk for me—which is irresponsible, and I hate it—” he murmured, “—then you need to be honest with me and not take stupid risks.”
Jay’s breath hitched. “Okay,” he whispered.
He reached blindly for Wren’s hand. She took it instantly, her grip firm, protective, her thumb brushing the back of his knuckles in a silent apology.
“I’m sorry, but…” Jay said, voice cracking. “This isn’t your fault. The only ones to blame are the people who beat me.”
Rain’s expression didn’t change, but something cold and angry slid behind his eyes.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “And I want to kill every single one of them.”
Jay twisted to look up at him, shifting too quickly.
Pain lanced through him; Rain felt it spike like a blade and siphoned it away before Jay could fully gasp.
Jay sagged into him, relief trembling through his frame.
Then, with a shaky arm, he looped it around Rain’s neck and pulled him into a kiss.
“No killing,” he murmured against Rain’s lips.
Rain’s mouth twitched. “No fun,” he muttered back, earning a soft laugh from Jay that eased some of the tension coiled in the air.
Rain straightened, shifting into leader-mode with a fluidity that made the rest of the squad instinctively look up. “Okay, everyone, gather around.”
The team drifted closer, forming a loose circle on the grass. Thomas dropped heavily onto the ground. Wren stayed close to Jay’s side. Jasmine hovered just behind Rain, arms crossed, while Jay nibbled on the chocolate bar Wren had pressed into his hand, each bite small and careful.
“Jay is not training for the rest of the week,” Rain announced. “He’s resting. He has a broken rib.”
Jay’s head snapped up. “What—no,” he protested, but Rain nudged the chocolate toward his mouth again, a silent eat first, argue later
“He’s going to behave, watch, and help identify weaknesses,” Rain continued. “Hopefully he’ll be healed enough for Velday. I’ll be using my power to assist him and I expect no arguments. We’re not risking his health for a competition.”
He aimed that directly at Jay, who glared back with all the ferocity of a wet kitten.
“We need to coordinate around that,” Rain said, sweeping his gaze across the group.
“I know we said we’d win fair and square without relying on my powers.
But I’m starting to accept that my powers are part of me and it’s prideful to pretend otherwise.
Some teams will have advantages we don’t.
So, we use what we have. Is everyone okay with that? ”
“Fuck yeah,” Thomas said immediately. “We were just being supportive. We want you kicking ass. We want to win.”
The rest of the team echoed him with nods, murmurs and a few determined grins. The tension that had been hanging over them loosened, replaced by something steadier, unified.
“Good,” Rain laughed, the sound warm and relieved, the kind that made the whole circle feel a little safer.
“I suggest we pair up by opposing strengths,” Jasmine said. “Rogan and Emily, for example. Small and fast versus tall and strategic.”
They all agreed and began discussing pairings. Rain listened, pride swelling in his chest as they finally started working together. Here, he wasn’t their Prince or their future King. He was their teammate.
Once the plan was set, Wren insisted on taking Jay home. Rain went with them, slipping an arm around Jay’s waist to support him. Jay leaned into him without hesitation, his energy softening, anxiety fading now that he was held.
At the station, Wren and Jay tapped their palms to the screen to board the shared carriage. Rain removed his necklace to scan his chip on the mortal chip scanner. The doorway lit up blue; identifying royalty.
“Great,” he muttered as passengers stared, whispering nervously.
He slid into the back seat beside Jay and reattached his chain. Then he tilted Jay’s chin up and kissed him softly. Jay’s energy wrapped around him like warmth.
“I’ve really missed you,” Jay whispered, resting his head on Rain’s shoulder as the train lurched forward.
“I’m right here,” Rain murmured, threading their fingers together and resting their joined hands on his thigh.
“Sharing you with everyone isn’t the same. I miss us,” Jay murmured. “The last time we were alone, everything felt simple and promising. Since then, we’ve barely had a moment without an audience. Can we even be alone anymore?”
“It’s difficult,” Rain admitted, kissing the back of Jay’s hand.
Wren stared out the window, pretending not to listen.
“I can’t risk coming into Red Territory anymore—not that it was ever a wise decision.
I could get you into mine, but I won’t risk it.
You’re a Red citizen.” He sighed. “I hate the danger I put you in just being together. I can’t protect you when I’m not with you, and it’s the worst feeling. ”
“It isn’t your job to protect me. I’m a big boy, Rain.” Jay shifted to meet his eyes.
“I know you are. Though I’ve yet to fully appreciate that,” Rain teased, softening the moment. Jay flushed bright pink, heat blooming across his cheeks, and Rain couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss him again; slow and tender.
“But it is my responsibility to protect you,” Rain whispered against his mouth. “I love you.”
Wren shuffled uncomfortably in her seat, absolutely listening now, her ears practically glowing with second-hand embarrassment.
“I love you too,” Jay whispered, pulling him in for another kiss, only to groan as pain shot through his ribs. Rain felt the spike of agony like a flare and instinctively siphoned it away, kissing him harder.
“You need to stop doing that,” Jay scolded gently, breath warm against Rain’s cheek. “I know it transfers the pain to you.”
“I can handle it. And I wanted that kiss as much as you did.” Rain’s voice left Jay’s resistance in tatters, low and certain and devastating.
Jay studied him, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “How do you have another ability? Everything I’ve read says aetherials have one gift that evolves with training. But you have… how many now?”
Rain stiffened. “They teach you about us in that college of yours?” Rain deflected, uncomfortable. He hated talking about his powers with mortals. The topic made him feel exposed, like a specimen under glass.
“No, but we have a library. And since I’m dating one, I figured I should do some research.
And don’t tell me you’re just like everyone else.
Your lifespan alone is terrifying.” Jay tried to keep his tone light, but Rain felt the weight beneath it—mortality, time, the future neither of them had dared to imagine.
Rain swallowed. He’d never truly considered outliving anyone he cared about. He’d never expected to meet anyone outside of his duty. Ivy had been an obligation, not a choice. Meeting Jay and Wren had been the first reckless, selfish thing he’d ever done, and it had changed everything.
“You could live up to five hundred years,” Jay continued. “I’ll be lucky to reach ninety.”
“Most of us only make it to four hundred,” Rain muttered, hating this topic. The future pressed in on him like a storm cloud, heavy and inevitable.
“Only,” Jay snorted.
Rain seized the first distraction he could find. “How are things with your Royalty? Is Drazier still planning to choose an heir?”
Wren practically leapt out of her seat. “We shouldn’t be discussing that.” Fear creased her brow. “That’s dangerous. We’re already at risk—” she pointed at Jay “—we don’t need the King’s wrath on top of it.”
Rain froze. He hadn’t meant to pry. He didn’t even care about the answer. But he shouldn’t have asked. The air thickened with tension.
“By the Gods, he’s not using us for information, Wren!” Jay protested.