Luca (Veiled City #3)

Chapter Eleven

LUCA

Well, that fucking sucked.

My vision came into focus, fixed on the unfamiliar ceiling beams above my head, the flecks of gold paint, and hanging candle fixtures. My fingers twitched against cotton sheets that felt too luxurious for an ordinary tavern. I didn’t dare lift my head to study their pattern in case my body splintered into pieces like a table with no screws to hold it together. I wasn’t exactly in pain… Scratch that, I was in pain, but the piercing throb in my temples and sickening ache in my torso were gradually fading to a dull irritation as if painkillers were finally kicking in. There was a green tinge glistening at the corners of my eyes, an aura of sorts shrouding the room, and I didn’t understand it. It made a sound. A trilling hum, and I wanted to reach out and touch it, to beckon it closer and study it, but I didn’t get the chance as my mate’s face came into view, tear-streaked, disheveled, and devastatingly angelic.

I smiled.

“You’re alive,” he whispered, the sound strained.

“Just about.” My voice wasn’t much better, all croaky and dry from disuse. How long has it been? I patted mindlessly for Cair’s hand, not quite reacquainted with my motor skills it seemed, but it didn’t matter, as he took my hand instantly in his, cradling it to his chest. “Sorry if I made you worry.”

A choked whimper tore from Cair’s throat, and that small, wounded sound was the only warning I got before he broke. He sobbed and sobbed , as if his body could no longer contain the war of emotions inside him, and he had no other choice but to release it. I flinched in alarm, and the disorientation that veiled my consciousness stalled my reflexes and knocked my senses sideways.

Quicker than I ever remembered it happening before, panic welled inside me, that familiar heaviness pressing down on my chest, my mind suddenly blank as I watched the love of my life—my entire world—shatter in front of me. I should’ve thrown my arms around him, hugged him to me and whispered sweet comforts until his tears ran dry, but I was frozen. Stunned . I had seen him cry before, had reassured him through a number of tragic situations, though never like this. This was different. This was pure, raw heartbreak, and I was drowning too fast in my own head to find a way to fix it.

“Cair…”

He cried harder, his shoulders trembling, and desperately, he brought the back of my hand up to his cheek and nuzzled forcefully against the knuckles. Like he couldn’t yet believe I was there, as if I were a figment of his grief-stricken imagination and nothing short of melding his skin to mine would settle that torture. It was excruciating to watch, knowing he was so viscerally hurt that he was forced to expose the vulnerability he’d always so persistently bottled up, and I was doing nothing to ease that discomfort. My heart felt as if it were seized in an iron grip. My lungs constricted, releasing no air, and my inaction made it more difficult to bear.

He needed me, and I was crashing. Failing. I had to console him, to convince him that everything was okay, that he could fall apart and I was there to catch him, to reassemble the fragments—as he’d done a million times for me before—but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t?—

Faint wisps of emerald flame flickered behind him, that same light from earlier, but now rippling and chirping out in the open like a sentient entity, an apparition waning in and out of existence. It should have unnerved me further, but all I felt was confusion and an odd sense of attachment—like it were an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in years. A peculiar source of support that quelled the looming dread.

For mere seconds, I eyed its movements with tunneled vision, and it seemed as though time itself paused to allow me to catch up, everything muted in the background as I regained focus. The fog began to lift, and the bone-deep instinct to soothe my distressed mate finally flared in my gut, provoking me into motion. I shook my head and the stir of the room came rushing back as if I’d surfaced from underwater, the world moving at its natural pace once more.

The green light disappeared for a second time.

I pushed through the pain of lifting my free hand to stroke the loose hair between Cair’s horns, hoping the gesture grounded him. “I’m sorry, my love,” I rasped, throat tight. “Let it out. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“I thought you were gone,” he sobbed through shaky exhales, leaning into my caresses, desperate for the contact. “I felt your soul leave me. You were dead; I felt the bond snap. I thought I was never going to?—”

“I know,” I hushed him softly, only to coax him into taking a full breath. I couldn’t sit up, but I guided him toward me, urging him to bury his nose in the crook of my neck, not realizing until his bulk surrounded me that I yearned for the closeness too. “But you can’t get rid of me that easily.” I kissed his temple. “I promise.”

We stayed like that for a while, both of us in desperate need of the chance to regulate, to just savor one another’s presence. Cair gradually calmed with every hiccupping gasp of my scent, his body swaying with exhaustion, but I used what little strength I had to keep him steady. He didn’t speak, but he touched me, hands trailing down my sides, my collarbones, my neck, his fingers so achingly delicate and unsure. It had tears flowing down my own cheeks.

He must have sensed their salty tang as he withdrew just enough to cup my face, his thumb cruising through the wetness as his other hand found my hair, playing with the curls. Feather-light, he brushed over my lips. They were dry and no doubt cracked, but it didn’t stop him. It was as if he was tracing me, following each line and curve to make sure everything was still the same. Reassuring himself that I was still the same Luca he had lost.

As if needing further confirmation, he inched forward, impulse leading him, but he seemed to blink back to clarity, and started to retreat.

I clutched at his shirt. “Do it.” The words left my tongue as a plea, a hopeless little whisper, and the way he looked at me, the gratitude in his red-rimmed eyes had my heart splintering into a million tiny shards.

With no further encouragement needed, he closed the distance, doing what he’d set out to do, and oh-so-softly pressed his lips to mine. It was sweet, and it was brief, but it was perfect, and once we parted, it was only so he could rest his forehead against mine, not yet ready to pull away completely. He closed his eyes, his frame sagging as if that small taste of me had lit up a sign in his head that said “ he’s yours ” and he could finally let himself unwind.

“You’re really here,” he rasped, his breath fanning my lips, and that one simple line broke me a little bit more. “You didn’t leave me.”

It was obvious he’d spent the last however long in a state of tension and anguish, so lost inside his mind that he could barely trust his instincts to tell him the truth—that I was here, that it wasn’t a dream—until he had kissed me.

“I’m here.”

I knew I had died. The second before my eyes had closed in that meadow had been wholly different from fainting. It wasn’t the same sensation as sleep or unconsciousness. At first, I’d hovered under the surface of my skin, not really connected, but not entirely detached either. I could sense my mate somehow, could detect the embers of his being inside me before I started to rise, observing my body sprawled out on the bed, but as shapes and shadows— a feeling —not an actual picture. I was aware just enough to perceive the journey between the planes of existence, my soul clinging on with everything it had, but then… nothing.

No darkness, no afterlife, just… nothing.

It was surreal, but once I’d entered that state, the world had ceased to exist. I didn’t know how long I’d been gone, didn’t feel pain or hardship until I woke up. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like from the other side of the glass—without that shield of nothingness to numb the suffering—but seeing Cair’s reaction, hearing in his voice the trauma he’d endured, it was clearly a manifestation of living hell.

Placing a kiss on the tip of my nose, Cair returned to his sitting position, where he descended into a sort of trance. He looked so lost, a shred of the confident, headstrong Fae he’d portrayed since the day we met. His expression flitted between confusion and disbelief, his weary eyes fixed on me and scarcely blinking, like he was unable to let me out of his sights.

Or he was replaying the scene, over and over and?—

“Cair,” I said, breaking his concentration. “You’re not dreaming.”

Lucidity came back to him, a glimmer of shame passing over his face as he nodded and took my hand in his again. He sank into another silence.

My gaze drifted up to the ceiling once more, my eyes stinging and nose stuffy, but those sensations were soon forgotten as my body progressed in its reboot. Apparently, returning my uninhibited thoughts before I could even wiggle my toes or the emotional whirlwind had balanced itself out was what my nervous system felt was in my best interest. Go figure . In all seriousness, was it too soon to pry into the details of my demise? Probably. My lack of filter was a curse at the best of times, but at that moment, it would be downright insensitive. Cair needed more time to prepare for the interrogation that my brain was currently drafting a script for. He was used to my inquisitiveness, and he loved listening to each new interest I rambled on about, but the last thing I wanted was to cause him any more misery by poking at an already gaping wound.

I’d have to make a conscious effort to think before I spoke.

“How long have I… been out?” I asked, attempting to soften the probe with a nonchalant tone.

Thankfully, Cair didn’t seem troubled by the question. He just glanced at the clock on the wall, doing a mental calculation before saying, “Almost twelve hours.”

My eyes widened reflexively, but in truth, was that really so much of a shock? I mean, I knew Fae decayed slower than humans, but judging by the weird contractions happening in my legs, I’d say the process was definitely given the chance to begin . “Yeah, I feel every single one of them.”

“You are in pain?” He shifted as if to stand. “I will go and?—”

“No, no. No pain.” At least, nothing debilitating. “Just a little stiff and achy.” I squirmed, grunting as my muscles protested. Shit. Note to self: clawing your sorry ass back from rigor mortis will make you feel one hundred years old. “I think I need to sit up, though. Stretch out the ole bones a bit. Can you help me?”

His jaw clenched, considering, but as soon as I propped my hands on the bed on either side of my waist to attempt the move myself, he leaped into action. “Careful, sweet boy,” he said, his fingers trembling against the back of my neck. “Let me prop up the cushions so you have something to lean against.”

It was impressive how he managed to balance me at an angle with one hand, treating me like the most precious thing in all the world, while he repositioned the pillows with the other. Once he was content with the integrity of his pile—having changed their order four times—he set me down, helping me to shift around until I was comfy.

“Much better,” I sighed, already feeling the benefits of the change. My nosiness was grateful for the upgraded vantage point.

Cair continued to fuss, making sure every part of me was secure by tucking the blankets under my sides to fix me in place. I couldn’t help the tender smile curving my lips. “You’d make a great nurse,” I teased lightly. He didn’t laugh, but a faint spark returned to his eyes, and in my book, that was progress.

“I wouldn’t do this for anyone else,” he asserted, and something about the admission made me feel all warm and toasty inside, which was a good thing because I still had that deathly chill lingering in my blood like a bad smell.

Speaking of… No, a brief sniff told me I didn’t stink. Surprisingly. Unless my nose was switched off, Cair must have taken care of that too.

I didn’t need to pee either, which— Oh, God. Did that mean…?

Is it possible to die of embarrassment three minutes after resurrection?

“You didn’t wet yourself,” my mate cut through my inner turmoil, causing my head to snap up. He looked mildly amused, which was refreshing. It wasn’t judgement at the fact that my priorities were skewed, but seemed more like relief that I was reverting straight back to my random-thought-spiral self.

To be honest, I was glad of that too.

“Would you tell me if I had?” I asked, brow cocked. He took too long to answer for a lie to be believable, so he didn’t even bother telling one.

“No.”

I laughed, but the sound was jarring in my ears, the parched crackle in my throat making me cough. “Is there any water in here?”

Cair was on his feet in an instant, striding over to the dresser in the corner which supported an uneaten plate of food and a jug. He poured the contents of said jug into a cup before returning to me. He held my nape as he brought the rim to my lips, tipping gently. “Slow sips. That’s it.”

I obeyed, fighting against the impulse to gulp it down. The water was slightly warm, which would have grossed me out if I wasn’t so thirsty and in no position to be picky. Actually... drawing attention to it did have my stomach doing a nauseous flip-flop, so I huffed out a noise to signal I was finished.

Cair withdrew, setting the rest down on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” I said, wiping away the escaped droplets on my chin.

“Of course.”

I relaxed into the downy pillows, definitely too plush to belong to any standard inn—not that the ones we’d stayed in were anything less than immaculate. They were just simple rooms with all the basic necessities for travelers to rest in for the night, perfect for their purpose, nothing extravagant, except for maybe the odd satin drape over the bed or marble bust on the windowsill. This room, however, was brimming with personal touches: embroidered curtains, crystals lined up across the mantle, quills and ink on every surface. I also noted the rows upon rows of shelves along the walls, filled with books and jars of ingredients, and a table sitting in the center, strewn with poultices and scrolls. It was untidy, lived in , a workshop of some kind.

An office fit for an enchanter , my mind helpfully supplied.

“We made it to Rosewood Creek, then?” I homed in on the thick tome lying open amid the mess. It was old, and the discolored page it was open to had what I guessed were magic symbols sketched in ink. Unless there was another mage living here, I suspected that it belonged to… him .

Could he also be the source of the green light?

“Yes,” Cair responded, and my fingers flexed against the bedding.

“Zadok… Is he…?”

“He’s alive,” my mate verified, and a wave of relief washed through me, followed by a surge of nervous anticipation. I tore my gaze from the spell book, meeting Cair’s eyes as he tacked on, “And eager to know you.”

“What’s he like?” I heard myself ask before I’d even processed his words. “He’s obviously somewhat respectable or we wouldn’t be here, so?—”

“You need to heal,” Cair interrupted, smoothing out the covers across my lap. “I’ll bring him in, and you can dissect the details once you have slept.”

I reeled back as if slapped. “What? No! I didn’t come all this way, or go through all this shit to pause at the last hurdle. I want to meet him now.”

A look passed over Cair’s face as if he was revisiting the events of the last twelve hours. Was he… angry ? He tamped it down before I could question it. “You have been through so much, pet. I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He released a withering sigh. “I’m not exactly the pillar of stability myself at the moment. I still can’t comprehend how you’re alive. You were dead, but now you’re sitting here, talking to me. It shouldn’t be possible and I don’t know how to handle it.” He glanced away, the tips of his pointed ears flushed pink. There was a note of shame in his voice when he added, “Nor do I feel confident that I could be the strength you need should this not go the way you hope.”

A brick of guilt dropped to my belly at his unguarded confession, making my vehemence falter. I was getting ahead of myself. A regular occurrence, sure, but I should’ve shown more consideration when my mate was barely recovered from a full-on breakdown. Way to go, Luca. It was second nature for Cair to be supportive, to offer reassurances when I needed them, to be my voice of reason when I couldn’t control my thoughts and feelings. The fact he admitted to not being able to provide that right now proved just how much of a state he was in. He needed a reprieve, not someone else coming into our space and potentially making the situation even more emotional. I understood that completely.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my brows creasing with pity as I covered his hand with mine. “You’re right. The last few days have been a shitshow, and we’ve both suffered. But… just so you know, you don’t have to worry about not being my strength. You already are. Having you at my side, holding my hand and caring about me, is more than enough. Whatever you do will always be enough.”

My mate’s eyes drifted back to me, glistening under the candlelight as he studied my expression. The guilt souring his woodsy scent faded. I smiled at him, and after another pause, he huffed a soft laugh before scrubbing a hand down his face—a reaction I hadn’t expected. “He’s waiting outside,” he said, and my gaze flicked to the door, my breath hitching. “I am incapable of denying you anything, and it would be cruel of me to deny him too. After everything.”

I shook my head, returning my attention to him. “You don’t have to push yourself for my sake. Or his. I can be patient.” That wasn’t exactly true, but even if I spent the night going over every possible scenario and stressing myself out to the point of packing up and leaving, it was a compromise I was willing to make.

For Cair.

“I know how much this means to you, and you’ll only lie awake working yourself up, so delaying it seems counterproductive.” He knew me too well. “I refuse to put you through that, but all I ask is that you do one thing for me…”

“Anything.”

“Don’t let go of my hand,” he said, the request tinged with desperation. “It anchors me, and I’m not ready to part with that sensation just yet.”

I nodded without hesitation, threading my fingers through his and clasping tight. “Are you sure that’s all you need? I’ll do anything you ask.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to mine once more, and the gratitude radiating from that simple gesture warmed me up from the inside out. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” I trusted his word, but I wouldn’t take advantage of his indulgent nature. Keeping the interaction brief shouldn’t be difficult.

Even for a rambler like me.

“Are you ready for this, sweetheart?”

I chewed my bottom lip, glancing toward the door again. Was I?

Part of me—the part with the least self-preservation but the most impulsiveness, probably—wanted to dive right in, to latch onto this stranger and skip straight to happy families, but rationally, I knew I had to slow down.

Death had really done a number on me, huh?

I didn’t know Zadok Velarde. He was a name on a ledger, a memory in Cair’s head from many years ago. He’d shown kindness by not turning us away when we were in need, but how could I judge his character from that alone? It could be a trick, or a sense of duty. It could be guilt for leaving my mom. I didn’t know anything. That was what made me pause. I didn’t even know yet if he wanted to acknowledge me as his son, but I guessed the only way to find out was to do what I’d set out to and ask him . It was what I wanted—to finally get answers—and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t at least try.

Peering down at myself, I checked I was somewhat presentable. Coming back from the dead wasn’t exactly forgiving on that front, but at least I had a shirt and pants on. The rest he would just have to look past. “Yeah, I am.”

Cair gave my hand a tender squeeze before calling out, “Zadok…”

I may have held my breath as the door crept open, revealing the guy I’d spent twenty-seven years without.

A sense of hope barrelled through me.

He was tall, but shorter than Cair. I could tell by what section of the bookshelf his head was level with—my mate had reached the shelf above on his trip to the water jug earlier, specifically the tome labeled A Guide to Minotaur Mating Habits : the same volume I’d read back at the palace. He had shoulder-length brown hair with flecks of gray throughout, curly like mine, but a little wilder, as if he’d been anxiously combing his fingers through it. Thin lips were nestled among a salt-and-pepper stubble, a roman nose sitting just above, and his skin had a red tinge like he’d recently burned under the hot sun. He was slim, his face all sharp angles with slightly sunken cheeks that made him appear older.

I mean, I knew he was old , obviously, but Fae aged differently, and considering my only real comparison was the king and queen—who were also ancient but didn’t look a day over forty—I wasn’t sure if the years actually factored into his appearance or if it was just his gaunt features aging him.

Or maybe it was more proof that royals were an entirely different breed.

Zadok drifted into the middle of the room, staring at me in disbelief. He was most definitely my dad. The spark of awareness settling in my bones was very insistent of that fact; it was like finally meeting a faceless apparition from a recurring dream. Whether it was purely through instinct that I’d made the connection, or from the shape of his eyes and the way his fingers twitched anxiously at his sides before he forced them behind his back, I couldn’t say. Either way, I knew exactly who the Fae standing in front of me was.

I found him .

“You’re alive.” His voice didn’t have the wise and confident cadence of a mage I had expected. It had a lilting tone to it, soft yet fluctuating, younger than his face suggested. His black eyes darted over the whole of me as if taking me in, just as I was doing the same to him. “You are not in pain?”

I shook my head, watching him sway as if he wanted to be closer but was too nervous to take the leap. I sympathized. “You’re the reason I’m alive?”

“N-no.” An awed look crossed his face. “You saved yourself.”

“How?”

He took another step, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. “I should have realized it before, but not only do you have Fae blood, you have mage blood. Your powers must have awakened when you died, and they brought you back.”

Cair looked just about as shocked as I felt.

“It may also have helped being mated to a royal Fae,” he tacked on, oblivious to the way my brain was short-circuiting. “The spell we performed passed a portion of that life force on to you and most likely gave you a boost.”

“I’m… a mage?”

“Yes.” Zadok’s mouth curved into a proud smile. He seemed equal parts astonished and ecstatic, but was attempting to stifle both. “I can feel it now, my magic bouncing off yours. Like recognizing like. It truly is a marvel.”

I… Yeah, I could feel it too. Or at least, that’s what I guessed was the source of the vague humming in my chest, which somehow responded to him. It was a strange sensation, but not wholly unlike my connection with Cair.

Just less profound.

“Your aura was wild before,” he continued. “But since your powers were clearly suppressed, I just thought it was your bond to Cair. A mage’s magic is with them from birth, but yours was locked, for whatever reason. It’s possible it rose closer to the surface after your mating, then more so once you moved to the Otherworld, but sometimes a mage’s power only bursts free due to stress or trauma. It took dying and your soulbond snapping for yours to fully release itself. I’m surmising that’s because you are half human. Tougher initiation tests.”

“Woah, woaaaah. Let’s slow down a sec,” I said, waving Cair off when he sent me a panicked look. “I need to catch up.” So… I’m half Fae, mated to a prince, and also a prince myself. I was resurrected, and now I’m a mage. No, I’ve been a mage since birth, but only came into my powers twenty minutes ago. That all sound right? Great . “Okay, done,” I announced, looking back at Zadok, who didn’t seem one bit alarmed by my need for an internal montage. “Am I some type of necromancer? Because I was dead dead, not just hovering.”

“Necromancy doesn’t exist, unfortunately.” Sadness filtered into his tone at that. “Cair felt your tie weaken, but your soul had lingered. It’s what differentiates Fae deaths from human. Humans die and their life force is drained within hours, but for Fae the process can take longer, especially for mates.”

I had known that, unsurprisingly. It was one of the first books I had read upon my relocation to the Otherworld. The Fae death process. It was fascinating.

“Cair was right to want to wait. To me, you were dead. I could not feel you or your heartbeat, but a piece of you stayed behind. Though it had to fade for your magic to release, to revive you.” He aimed a serious look in my direction, a contrast to the morbid delight from a few seconds ago. “I wouldn’t count on it ever happening again. This was a miracle unlike any I’ve seen before. Fae may technically be immortal, as no natural causes can take us down, but don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Blade and poison we are not immune to.”

“I’ll try,” I agreed, which seemed to please him. Why was I kinda happy about that? “But how do I learn how to use it? I want to know everything.”

“Let’s not worry about it now,” Cair chimed in. “Another day.”

“Yes, rest is essential,” Zadok said, much to Cair’s obvious appreciation. “Any practical learning will have to wait until your body is fully recovered.”

“Fine.” I gave in reluctantly. If I were honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to stand up right now, much less learn magic… Me, magic. Holy shit. I was also having a hard time concentrating on all the info, which was irritating as fuck, so would be a total waste if I were to attempt anything. I’d end up forgetting it or not doing it properly, so yeah, their advice was probably for the best.

Wouldn’t be admitting that out loud, though.

“Saying that…” Zadok inched forward, piquing my interest. His eyes flicked to Cair before returning to me, his hands fidgeting in front of him. “I could give you a preview. Let you feel your magic. It won’t cause any distress or exertion,” he added quickly when my mate’s jaw clenched. “It’ll just give you a glimpse of what we’d be working with. If that’s something you’d like to try?”

I was nodding before Zadok even finished asking the question, and with a nod of his own, he approached the bed, reaching out for my hand. Cair tensed at the sudden movement, his eyes boring into the older Fae—who apologized and turned his palm face up, letting me be the one to initiate contact. I offered my mate a patient smile, watching his shoulders visibly slacken before placing my free hand in Zadok’s.

A gasp lodged in my throat as a zip of electricity danced across my skin.

Zadok’s eyes widened, and within one blink and the next, my palm was heating, familiar magic-induced goose bumps trailing up my arm before a fusion of purple and green light filtered out from the gaps between our fingers. Slowly, he withdrew just enough for me to examine the emerald flame engulfing my hand, flickering recklessly as if it were caught in a draft. It didn’t burn as a typical fire would, though it was warm, like sinking into tepid bathwater—an ironic analogy, I knew, but it was the only comparison that came to me.

The threads of magic tickled as they snaked over the valley at the base of my thumb, tracing my knuckles before wrapping around my wrist. It pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, and I couldn’t help thinking how serene I felt.

“The green light was mine,” I muttered, smiling as the flame chirped.

“Hm?”

“When I woke up, it was lingering at the edges of my vision, almost like I was coming out of a haze. Then it… comforted me when I started to panic.”

Zadok bobbed his head emphatically. “Now that your magic is fully unbound, it will try to protect and guide you, offer you aid whenever you need it. It is a shield. A friend . It is a part of you, but also its own being with its own personality. It’s a… magnificent gift to possess, and once you learn how to channel it, you’ll see just how much more there is to it than merely power.”