Chapter 31
Reverie
Iwake up in a tangle of blankets and half-mended feelings, the faint hum beneath my skin telling me before I even sit up that it’s still there.
My Nexus mark.
The men left to get breakfast, giving me the privacy I needed this morning to get my head around everything that happened last night. Zeke made me promise to meet them and eat (of course, he did) before we decide what our next move will be.
I feel like all of this is my own doing—not consciously, but I felt the truth the moment my mark flared into existence.
Something inside me knew all of them—even Trent, beyond this lifetime.
Something ancient.
The voice in my dreams—the one who whispers through Queen Lilibet’s memories—murmured one word in the moment before I fell asleep and then woke to the pain.
“Restore”
And my body seemed to have obeyed a little too well, making Trent Storm a member of this Faction right along with the rest of them.
I knew I had to suck it up and get dressed. My guys were just as upset about this shit as I was. We needed to face this together, and my bestie would help me handle it too. She always knew how to make me see things differently.
This bond with Torren—shit—Trent was not something I asked for, even knowing he was a Potential. And to be fair, I don’t think it was something he wanted either.
My abilities and forces that I wasn’t entirely sure about did this.
The voice takes that exact moment to whisper, “We warned you, bonds are permanent… unless broken by truth.”
I don’t even know what the hell that means. “Why do you speak in riddles?” I mutter aloud, aggravated with everything this morning.
“Why does who speak in riddles?” My mom asked, standing beside my bedroll, Mira at her side.
I jumped, not hearing her come in the room. “What the hell, Mom? You scared the crap out of me.”
She laughed, “Sorry, baby. I saw your men heading to breakfast, and they told me you were still here.
My brain isn’t functioning right this morning. “What time is it?”
“Early.” Her eyes flick down to my bare shoulders, then lower, and I remember—too late—that I fell asleep in one of Nathan’s shirts last night, the neckline loose and gaping. I started to tug the blanket up out of instinct, but she reached out and stopped me.
“Don’t,” she whispered, voice oddly reverent. “Let me see it again.”
My heart gave one hard thud.
The mark.
My mother sighed and hung her head.
“You know what it means?” I tilted my head in question.
Her silence is answer enough.
“Torren,” I whispered.
“Trent, you mean.” She corrects me. Her jaw tightened around the name, hatred, and history flickering in her eyes.
Mira let out a low growl. “He should be dead for the things he’s done.”
I let out a slow breath, the memory of his touch flaring in my mind—his mouth, that reckless kiss in the tunnels, the sharp crackle of something binding between us before he tore himself away. The way my skin burned afterward, like my body was trying to decide if it wanted him or wanted him dead.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” I murmured. “The marking, I mean. It was different from what I did with my men at the academy. It felt different, I can’t really explain how.”
“Did it?” Mom asks quietly. “Did she have something to do with it?”
The voice.
The one that curls through my dreams with smoke and starlight, threading visions of my past life through my veins. The one that sounds like a chorus and a single woman all at once. My Ancestor. My queen. Myself.
Last night, just before I woke with my chest on fire, I’d seen something—a man standing in the dark with two faces. One was soft, almost boyish, eyes bright with that crooked fascination I’d seen in Torrens’s gaze. The other was harder, cruel, a stranger made of edges and shadow.
One man. Two faces. Both are looking at me.
I explained what I’d dreamed to my Mom.
“I don’t think the Ancestors did this to me,” I said slowly. “I think… they let me do it. Or I did it with their permission. Like they opened a door and I walked through without realizing.” I stopped talking and stared at her for a moment. “How did you know about the voice?”
Mom’s fingers tighten around the blanket. “There are things we know that we can’t tell you,” she whispered. “We want to desperately, but it might harm the order of things.”
“I understand, but it’s extremely frustrating,” I mumble.
Her gaze softened. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my temple, then stood, her leather pants creaking softly in the quiet. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small, time-worn note. I felt my body grow hot. I recognized that piece of paper; it was the note from Professor Lee.
“I know you recognize this,” she whispered, eyes searching mine with something close to fear. “He said you were only to read it when the man with two faces appeared.” My breath stalled. Her hand tightened around mine, steady and sure despite the tremor beneath it. “Reverie… It’s time.”
I started to open it, and she stopped me.
“Get dressed,” she said. “You need to read the note. But not here.”
“Where then?”
“Breakfast,” she said solemnly. Mira nuzzled her in comfort. “With everyone. And then, you and I will have our own conversation. About Trent. About that mark. And about the fact that the sign of the man with two faces has finally shown up on my daughter’s skin.”
I blink. “You understand what all of this means?”
She hesitated. “Later, sweet girl. Get ready. Your men are already up, and Chloe’s threatened to eat your portion if you don’t show.”
“That monster,” I mutter. But my chest is too tight to joke properly.
She and Mira left, and I dragged myself out of bed, the chill of the cave air making me shiver.
The makeshift sleeping quarters were carved out of Nyberie’s tunnels—smooth stone walls, low ceilings, and the faint glow of bioluminescent moss painting everything in muted blues and greens.
Voices echo down the passage, low and familiar.
My parents brought me some clothes from home, and Tanya filled in the gaps—Aurathion leathers and modern Earth fabrics—a strange mix, just like everything else in my life right now.
I stared down at the small piece of paper, a feeling of dread in my gut.
Best to get it over with. I knew there was nothing I couldn’t face with my men at my side.
My chest tightened as the words left my mouth:
“Rue lives. But if Trent is not with you when you find him…you both die.”
The table fell silent.
Mom was the first to react. She gasped and pressed a shaking hand over her mouth.
Pops let out a strangled breath and stood to gather Mom into his arms, Grumpy jumping out of his seat to rush to her side.
Dad just sat there in shock, not saying a word. He’d searched for Rue for years and never found him. Suffering Ancestors knew what, at the hands of Selene, Ubel, and Trent.
That bastard, Trent—I couldn’t believe I was connected to the guy who caused my family so much pain. And now, the only way we got Rue back was through him? This had to be a damn joke.
Dad startled me out of my thoughts when he slammed a hand down on the table. “Fucking Lee, my daughter isn’t going to go to fucking Trent Storm for help. I’ll find Rue without him!”
My mother left the comfort of Grumpy and Pops and went to sit in his lap, holding his face in her hands. “Sly. Stop.”
He didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. His gaze stayed on me.
“Reverie… Rue was the bravest of us. If he’s alive—if he’s trapped—” Dad’s voice broke for the first time since his return, even after everything he’d been through.
“We get him back. But you won’t go it alone.
I’ll drag Trent by the balls if I have to. ”
Grumpy wiped a tired hand down his face. “Precognition or not… Lee wouldn’t have written this unless every other path led to losing both our daughter and our brother.”
My throat tightened. “I’m not sure I’m meant to bring anyone else with me.”
I barely had time to inhale before my men went full apocalypse.
“I have to go alone,” I repeated firmly.
And that was it.
That was the match.
Zane didn’t just drop his fork. He hurled it at the wall so hard it stuck in the stone like a tiny Excalibur.
“You think you’re walking up to Trent Storm by yourself?!” he shouted. “NO. No, you are not. I will physically hold you down until you change your mind!”
Nathan didn’t stand.
Nathan teleported beside me, wrapped his arm around my waist like I was a misbehaving child, and stormed toward the door.
“NATHA—”
“No talking,” he snapped.
Zeke didn’t say a word. Not one.
Then Zeke ripped his chair in half with his bare hands and muttered, “I’m so tired. So fucking tired of you being in danger! How the hell am I supposed to take care of you when every fucking body keeps sending you into harm's way?”
I didn’t think he wanted me to answer that.
Oren and Jet were the scariest because both fell silent as they followed behind us to our room.
Nathan sat me down, and I was facing all five of them.
“NO.” Jet growled. “If you try to go to Trent without us, I will help Nathan tie you down. I’m done with being separated from you.”
Before I could share my opinion on this, Oren walked up to me and took my hand in his. “You say you need to go alone,” he absently stroked his long, elegant fingers over my knuckles. “And what I hear is you don’t want us.”
My stomach twisted. “Oren—no, that’s not—”
“It is how I hear it,” he stepped closer, shadows curling against the floor. “You’re ours. We are yours. And you think we would let you walk into the den of the man who has tortured countless Aurathions? A man whom I know has killed more men and women than any other, even Ubel and Selene.”
Zane gasped dramatically. “OH, MY ANCETORS! SHE DOESN’T WANT YOU—” He leans in and whispers to Zeke, but of course, we all hear him. “Cause I know how much she wants me.”
Zeke cuffs him on the head, “Now's not the time.”
“Guys,” I brush my hair back and take a deep breath. “This is my father we’re talking about. He could die.”