Chapter 43 Marked
MARKED
RAE
Aside from Ash checking in on me, the others kept their distance when I joined them for breakfast before leaving for the pharmacy.
I still didn’t know how to address the bomb Shane dropped with the guys. They hadn’t brought it up, and I wasn’t keen on broaching the subject.
My only concern was the possibility of becoming ill without them close by. How far apart could we go? I’d gone to work the entire time they lived here without incident. The pharmacy trip went fine. I’d even gone to the funeral—though I don’t know how long they waited before following me.
Ash had said we might experience separation sickness, but he’d given no details, leaving me unsure how to proceed.
What happened when they returned to Elyrdin?
Ezra acted his usual self again this morning, assessing me with his chilly stare that made me want to lower my head in deference.
Something about his presence demanded obedience, and I wasn’t sure how to unpack what it stirred in me.
Remembering his commanding voice yesterday while I’d been naked before him sent a shiver down my spine.
Why did I like it?
It wasn’t in my nature to enjoy someone bossing me around. In fact, I loathed it. People like Shane and my family used their positions to remind me I existed beneath them and needed to play their games to keep my job or continue seeing Grandma.
I should hate Ezra’s dominance for that reason alone, but I didn’t.
Zeke had grown timid around me, like he no longer knew how far he could go when he’d been comfortable before. Did the Nyrith thing change that much about our situation?
I dropped the empty laundry basket on my bed, gathering a few items I’d discarded on the floor and the bathroom towels for the wash.
For once, Cyn didn’t fight with me. He left the room every time I entered, which was fine—I didn’t need him. If not for the others, I’d have kicked him out a long time ago.
Frustrated, I smacked a pair of loose pajama pants into the hard plastic basket, hissing as my fingers hit the edge too hard.
Stupid infernal.
Hefting the full basket in my arms, I went downstairs. I’d let the laundry pile up and was down to my last pair of pajama shorts and oversized shirt for lounging comfortably.
I entered the room, ignoring the guys lazing on the sofa, and headed for the kitchen, where the washer and dryer hid behind bifold doors. After setting the basket on the counter, I returned to the living room to grab the cardigan I left beside my purse.
“What the fuck?”
I ignored Cyn’s outburst.
Returning to the kitchen, I tossed the cardigan with the rest of the dirty clothes. When I opened the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water, hands yanked me away with a tight grip on my waist. “Hey!”
Cyn spun me around, his glare pinning me as my hands landed on his chest for balance.
Zeke rushed into the kitchen with Ash and Ezra on his heels. “What are you doing?”
Without a word, Cyn dropped to his knees in front of me, face level with my pelvis, and turned me by the hips.
Ash’s concerned voice stopped me from snapping at Cyn. “What the hell?”
I looked over my shoulder. “What? You’re freaking me out.”
Ezra’s calm voice cut through the tension. “Why do you have that tattoo on your leg?”
“What?” I froze. “Oh. That. It’s…” Sighing, I pushed Cyn’s hands off my hips and turned. “It’s a birthmark, not a tattoo.”
Cyn looked up at me. “Birthmark?” His scowl deepened. “You’re lying.”
I put my hands on my hips, glaring at him. “Why would I lie about something so stupid? I have plenty of tattoos.”
This was the exact reason I never wore shorts or short skirts without a pair of tights in front of others. As soon as someone realized my birthmark wasn’t a tattoo, they asked questions or gave strange looks.
Birthmarks should be simple shapes like strawberries or clouds, not something mysterious and occult-like.
I learned early on to keep the mark covered after my so-called friends accused me of cutting myself and practicing witchcraft. I still remember the rumors claiming I belonged to a cult that branded me.
Mom and Dad wanted to confront their parents, but I was so over it that I begged them not to.
I knew humans disliked things they didn’t understand, like strange markings, but infernals as well?
Cyn reached for me again, and I stepped back. I couldn’t handle his hands on me now—or ever again.
“You had to have seen the similarities to the book,” Ezra said, brows dipping as his eyes narrowed. “The mark on the cover is the same as the one on your leg.”
I glanced over at the book on the counter. The only difference between my mark and the book’s symbol was the dots. My symbol had one dot underneath; the book’s symbol had three beneath and one on either side.
How had Ash and Ezra not seen it when I was naked with the lights on? Every other time, the lighting had been low or off.
“The same as us,” Zeke said, stepping forward as he unbuckled his belt and tugged the side of his jeans down. He lifted his shirt, revealing a mark on his hip eerily like mine, except the dot sat on the bottom right instead of the center.
Cyn walked over and slammed the refrigerator door shut.
“You’ve seen mine,” Ash said, his face devoid of all emotion.
I recalled the mark on his ribs, and how its resemblance to mine unnerved me.
Zeke buckled his belt. “We all have the mark.” He looked at Ezra. “His is between his shoulder blades. Cyn’s is on his ankle.”
“What? The exact same mark?” I sputtered a weak laugh. “It can’t be like mine.”
Zeke moved closer and knelt. I didn’t retreat when he reached for my hips and turned me around. His trembling fingers traced the birthmark on my upper thigh. “The exact same mark,” he whispered in awe before his fingers twitched against my skin.
“Zeke?” Cyn dropped to his knees at my side.
I spun around, my breath catching when I saw Zeke’s milky white eyes, vacant and unblinking, stripped of pupil and iris. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Shut up,” Cyn barked, thumbs brushing Zeke’s face as a tear fell from his frosted eyes.
Ash stepped around them and wrapped an arm around my lower back. “Zeke has the gift of sight. Our strongest seers in Elyrdin are Vithrelas. Not all Vithrelas are seers, though. Just as not all Shyrlivi who possess the gift of sight are Vithrelas.”
“Sight?”
“He can’t control it, but sometimes when he touches something connected to a person, he’ll slip into a trance and gleans information—past, present, or future—about them.”
“Why is he crying?”
“That, I don’t know. I’ve never seen him cry during a vision, but don’t worry. This is normal. Cyn usually helps him when he comes out of it because he’s out of sorts.”
As if Ash’s words called him back, Zeke collapsed into Cyn’s waiting arms. He curled into a ball, nuzzling deeper into Cyn’s embrace like a frightened child. What had he seen?
Ezra leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed, studying the pair on the floor in silence.
“You’re okay,” Cyn whispered, fingers curling into Zeke’s shirt while his other hand cradled the back of his head. “I’m here.”
No one spoke while Cyn soothed Zeke with hushed whispers and gentle touches. Seeing him handle Zeke with such surprising tenderness made my chest tighten.
After several minutes, Zeke broke away from Cyn’s embrace, wiping his eyes. He looked up at me, eyes bright blue again. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he whispered. He rubbed the flat disc on his earlobe, frowned, then asked, “Did you guys tell her what happened?”
“I did,” Ash said. “What did you see?”
Lines formed on Zeke’s forehead as his features pinched. “I… don’t remember.”
Ezra’s deep voice grabbed our attention. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, there’s nothing. It feels like I lost time. One minute I was touching Rae’s leg, and the next I was falling over.”
Ezra’s glacial stare connected with mine.
Avoiding the intensity of his eyes, I looked at Zeke again. “And my birthmark did that to you? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t understand it either,” Ash said. “Have you ever had a case where you couldn’t recall your visions?”
“No.”
I wrapped my arms around my stomach. “Your marks never made this happen?”
“No,” Zeke said. “Though I don’t think I’ve ever touched them on purpose. But mine hasn’t.”
Ezra tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’m still trying to comprehend how Raelynn shares the same marking as we do.”
“I don’t understand.” I looked at him. “I mean, you don’t find it strange the four of you share the same mark?”
“No.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Our birthmarks signify who we are to Elyrdin.”
My arms dropped from my waist. “But I’m…”
“Human; I’m aware.” The muscles in his jaw rippled. “I’d suggest the mark is further evidence that dark magic is manipulating our situation, but you claim you were born with your mark.”
“Because I was,” I snapped, hating the insinuation I’d lied to them. “That’s why it’s called a birthmark.”
Cyn looked at Ezra, ignoring me completely. “Could the magic have gotten to her when she was born? If she’s seen infernals her entire life, then maybe someone’s been manipulating shit since her birth, or even before then.”
“But why?” Zeke stood, and Cyn followed, steadying him before letting go of his arm. “Why would someone from Niemna mess with a human child just to act now?”
Ash sighed. “Maybe waiting for us to mature.”
“You’re twenty-six,” Zeke said before looking at Ezra. “Ezra’s twenty-four.”
“Yes, but you’re barely in your twenties. If whoever wanted to access the heirs needed us to mature first, then the timing is perfect.”
My stomach lurched, and I stepped away with a sickening dread as I looked at Ash. “Does that mean everything we’ve felt is a lie?” I bit my tongue to distract myself from the sting in my eyes.
He reached for me, not letting me retreat, and cupped my cheeks in his large hands. “No. I told you. What I feel for you goes beyond all the things that tell me you’re my mate.” He pulled me into his arms and whispered, “My feelings aren’t being manipulated. Believe in me, Rae.”
I wanted to. I wanted to believe there was someone left alive who cared for me unconditionally.
Cyn turned away from us. “I can’t believe that—”
Before he could finish, bright light flooded the room without warning, blinding and all-consuming.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hands covering my ears as a high-pitched ringing drowned out all sound around me, rattling through my skull and making me nauseous. Energy pressed down on me from all sides as the air shuddered with waves of power.
Ash tightened his hold on me when my knees threatened to buckle, and my breath came in short, shallow gasps.
As quickly as it started, the intensity of the energy waned, and the brightness behind my eyelids dimmed.
Opening my eyes, I waited for the spots in my vision to disappear and the ringing to hush as the world around me settled.
The air shimmered with visible residual energy, like dust motes floating in sunbeams through cracked blinds. Through the glittering haze, three figures stood across the kitchen in front of the door.
The trio looked like triplets, with their golden hair and similar features.
They wore long brown robes adorned with burnt orange and golden symbols in long lines sweeping down the front. The two women stood at the shorter man’s back, their golden hair wrapped in sleek buns atop of their heads, making them seem taller.
When the air returned to normal, Ash pulled me against his side, fingertips digging into my waist as three sets of crimson eyes settled on me.