Chapter 50 Nameless
NAMELESS
LUELLA
The next evening, Luella regretted her words.
Graves found her at dinner. Vale and Az sat on the floor by her side in the lounge area.
Az fed her tart chunks of citrus, while Vale sat further away, hand passing over his jaw as he stared at a scroll.
Vale would often look up, catching her with a piece of fruit hanging from between her lips.
He had begun showing up wherever she went—with his scrolls and parchment, he would take up camp in the same vicinity as her. Content to be near.
It always set her on edge.
She looked up at Graves, juice dribbling from her lips. The eve-darkened clouds cast shadows on the trees outside.
"Come with me," he said, wings tucked against his back.
"Why?" she asked, poking at her plate of fruit and nuts. The Fallen Isles lived off fish mostly, and since she didn’t eat meat, she had to make do.
"You’ll see."
His reticence piqued her curiosity. She set her plate on the low table before her.
Az stilled her with a hand. "Do you want me to come with you?"
"I’ll be okay," she whispered, uncertain.
Luella rose and took Graves’s gloved hand.
"Where are you going to take me?"
Graves led her away. A warmth passed over her thigh. She jolted, looking down to find Vale’s fingers reaching for her. He’d drifted his hand over her thigh as she passed, yet hadn’t even bothered to look at her.
She carefully stepped over the cushions and blankets where she often spent her days. Az’s gaze lingered after her as he lifted her half-eaten piece of citrus to his lips, a forlorn look on his face.
When they were outside, Graves replied, "Guess."
The wind rustled through the leaves. Sweat slid down her back as her wings shivered from the cooling heat. She let them unfurl slightly to feel the wind in her feathers.
An ominous groaning sound filtered over the wind.
She looked up.
A bridge swung overhead, casting slats of shadows onto where she and Graves stood beneath.
Her head lowered. He was closer to her now.
"Up there?" she asked.
"If you can manage it."
Before she was able to ask what he meant, his wings snapped out and he shot to the sky. Wind that held traces of his scent flowed down upon her as he ascended.
Luella craned her neck, staring up at Graves, where he stood on the bridge, high above her.
"Come up here, then," he called.
"How?" Luella looked around. "I see no ladder."
"You don’t need one."
She realized what he was getting at.
"No! I cannot." She hugged herself.
"You can." Graves leaned over the rope railing, staring down at her. "I can wait all night here—for you," he said, the raspy lilt to his voice carrying on the wind.
If there was one thing she’d learned about him, it was that he never gave up. He approached everything with methodical tenacity. If he said he would wait for her to come, he would wait until the sun dipped far beyond the horizon and the air grew chilly with night.
She turned her head, staring at the path back to the palace. It was shrouded in shadows. She could go back alone.
"You won’t," he said, as if reading her mind.
Luella stared back up at him, lips parting. How—
"Your face is like an open book."
She tried to straighten her expression, but his soft laugh carried to her. She was too stunned by the sound to feel anger that it was at her expense.
Her wings stretched behind her, tugging her muscles. She hopped on the balls of her feet, wondering what it would take to catch the wind and rise in the air. He’d made it look so easy. Yet Luella was stuck on the ground, caged by her flightless wings.
They must have been more ornamental than anything for how useful they were.
"This is futile," she muttered.
Luella walked to the base of the large tree, placing her palms on the rough bark. Little divots and grooves were set into it. A plan took root within her.
She ran her fingers over one of the divots at eye level, then tugged—it was solid. Slowly, she began to scale the side of the tree.
With her feet off the ground, her toes digging into the grooves, she hoisted herself up with her shaking arms. Her wings threatened to drag her back. She gasped, clinging to the tree so she wouldn’t topple backward.
This reminded her so much of her time in Solis.
Running in the ruins, a book in hand and a little wicker basket of food and blankets so she could find a spot to curl up beneath the sun.
Her days of quaint adventure had felt so far out of reach, and yet, right now, she felt like the same heirus Princess.
She closed her eyes, forehead against the bark. She could almost feel the sun beating down on her back, the weight of duties and lessons waiting for her when she returned to the castle.
She pulled herself up higher.
When she was halfway, she turned her head slightly to look behind her. The distance was further than she thought.
She lifted her right leg, searching for a foothold. When she found a place, she moved her right arm up, fingers reaching, and—
Her foot slipped.
Luella yelped.
The world spun as wind dragged against her wings, pulling her back.
A flash of darkness to her side as Graves swooped from the bridge.
She was falling, falling, and…
Too quick for her to make sense of, her wings lifted, snapping out so harshly that she felt an ache radiate in her midsection and shoulder blades.
The air caught her.
Her wings stretched, contracting as they fluttered.
The whole ordeal lasted for the span of a few breaths, but she felt as though time had slowed as her whole focus honed in on the weightless feeling.
Luella fell gracelessly to the ground, knees giving out.
Graves landed by her side and caught her before she could fall.
"I flew!" she cried, her hands fisting in his dark shirt. "Did you see?"
Graves gripped her waist, his dark wings stretching out behind him in a mirror of her own. "I saw," he said, a rare, gentler smile on his lips.
The air thickened as Luella stared at him. His eyes dipped to her mouth. She suddenly realized how close they were.
She cleared her throat and stepped back from him.
However, he didn’t let her go so easily.
His hands tightened on her, and she fell into his chest.
"Hold on," he murmured, then the ground disappeared from beneath her feet as he took to the skies.
The bridge groaned and creaked as they both landed on it.
He took her hand, fingers stretching hers as he tugged her onward. She stared down at the faint cracks between the slats of the bridge. The ground was so far beneath them.
The swaying bridge made that funny feeling well in her belly again. It reminded her of…
When he’d held her over the sea upon the ship’s netting.
Her cheeks warmed.
The bridge split again at another tree, its towering top encircled by a post. He went left. The route remained the same until the next landing, where it ended.
The firm wood beneath her feet was welcome from the swaying bridge. She leaned against the bark. A thick rail surrounded the circular platform. Leaves rustled overhead, branches jutting out. She trailed her fingers over one, feeling the give of the leaves as her touch danced over it.
A low noise made her turn her head.
Graves unfurled a thick blanket, tucking it to cover the wood.
"Where did you get that?" she asked.
He nodded his head to a small hole carved in the tree bark. When the blanket was placed, he sat, patting the spot beside him wordlessly.
Luella tucked her legs beneath her, smoothing the wrinkles in her gown. The tips of her folded wings brushed the blanket.
Graves didn’t speak for some time, and neither did she. They both watched the leaves rustle in the evening wind; some were so close she could count the veins in them.
The tension grew too much.
"Why did y-you bring me here?" She detested the quiver in her voice.
"I don’t know. I just wanted you—near."
Their arms brushed. She felt his stare against her mouth. Her tongue poked out to wet her lower lip.
"Dangerous," he rasped, still staring at her mouth. His gloves scratched against her cheek as he touched her face, tugging her closer to him.
Right before his lips touched hers, she pulled back.
"What are we?" she whispered. "Because I am not your friend, and we’re not enemies—I don’t think so, at least." She couldn’t look at him as she added, "I don’t... love you."
He stilled against her. "We can be whatever you want. Enemies, lovers, something in between. Nameless."
Luella liked that. Something undefined. Something she could survive.
She didn’t trust Graves, but she enjoyed his touch, enjoyed the things he’d shown her. Couldn’t that be enough?
"Nameless, then." She touched the scar on his face. "Sorren," she mused. "Do you—wish for me to call you that?" The words dripped with bitterness.
"Never. Not unless you wish to be punished." His grip tightened.
She blanched. "You cannot punish me. I am not a babe."
Luella felt a twitch against her palm as he smiled. The hair along his jaw was scratchy like his gloves.
His other hand reached up to cup the base of her throat; he squeezed lightly, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to hold the promise of it.
He tugged her onto his lap, and his hand came striking down on her bottom.
She gave a stuttering, shocked sound.
It was demeaning—why did it make something in her lower belly clench?
Luella’s hands found his shoulders as he kissed her. His hand stayed on her backside, smoothing the faint ache he’d left there.
A day had passed since he’d taken her to the waterfall, yet the hesitance in her body made it feel like it had never happened. He kissed her deeper, his hand still kneading softly against her flesh.
Graves broke away, tugging free a glove with his teeth. It dropped between them.
The promise he’d made her at the waterfall echoed in her mind as he rolled up the hem of her gown and plunged his bare fingers between her slick heat.
The sky grew dark and the air grew fierce and her thighs clenched as he touched her.