18. Raven
Chace stood in my room.
Does the personal space of others mean nothing to him?
And not only did he stand in my room, but he had shown up partially clothed.
What in reaping hell?
I lowered my gaze, the intricate tattoo across his back snagging and holding my attention. I sucked back a sharp breath. What was I seeing on his skin?
Too quickly for me to comprehend the inked design, he spun to face me, and my gaze snapped upward. I met his sour expression and then darted my attention to his hand held high.
“What is this?” He clutched―waved―a letter, as if I wouldn’t know what he was talking about.
My unease from earlier had only recently settled thanks to the distractions of Aoes and Winter. Now a fresh cut of anxiety tore across my soul and ripped it open wide.
I stepped into the room and closed the door, granting us privacy from Aoes’s ever-open and alert ears. He presented friendly enough, but I didn’t doubt that he listened and heard everything. Like and trust didn’t always go hand in hand.
Crossing my arms, I kept my gaze pinned on Chace’s face and refused to let my attention dip to his muscled, post-bath damp, bare chest.
“What are you doing in my room?” My eyes fluttered, and I followed the flow of the inked art wrapping forward, over his shoulder and…
My lips parted, and I attempted to hold back the tiny gasp that bubbled forth.
When I had entered the room and found him with his back to me, the glimpse―gulp―all too brief, yet long enough to know his magical, shifting tattoo covered the majority of his back. And now…
Now facing him, I struggled not to drag my gaze along the tattooed chain circling his body, curving over itself in a loop like a snake just below his pectoralis.
It lazily changed directions, twisting across his stomach and looping once more before dropping out of sight below the waistline of his pants.
My heart skipped a beat. Deathly devil, he was…
I breathed a slow, steady breath.
Of course I had suspected, but seeing him like this…
My fingers twitched, the desire to touch him, trace my fingertips along his tattoo, bordered on unbearable.
I swallowed against the dryness building in my throat and blinked my attention back to his face, refusing to allow my gaze to wander again. “Well?”
He was my coreaper and a Badden—two no-nos—yet traitorous thoughts attempted to take form.
Chace jabbed a finger toward the window, sinews tight and straining against the skin of his arm and shoulders. “Heard the tapping against the glass. This message was delivered by a raven rapping on your window.”
My heart somersaulted. Finally, a response.
“So, you just thought you’d come into my room, uninvited, and help yourself to my mail?” I crossed the room and snagged the letter from his grasp.
The seal was broken, the envelope torn.
A volcano of emotion erupted within me, spreading heat across my skin. “You read it?”
“I did. And I’m not sorry.” He leaned back against the wardrobe and folded his arms, his wet hair depositing tiny droplets of water along his shoulders.
“I wouldn’t expect you to receive personal letters here.
Under the circumstances of this cursed reap, any secret could undermine us.
If we’re to work together effectively and toward success, then we must act in accordance. Which means we can’t afford secrets.”
And yet, we had many. Did we not?
I hadn’t told him about the contraband items my father had packed in my bag. But just as I had secrets from him, he likely kept at least one secret from me, if not more.
“Who is Valen?” he asked, his voice low and on the verge of seething.
I jerked slightly taller. “What?”
Chace nodded to the message. “It tells you to seek out someone called Valen.”
I dropped my gaze to the open letter in my hand. The sight of the read mail sent fire thrashing across my ribs. “I have no idea.”
Quickly, eagerly, I pulled the message free, as if the words contained within would fill the black hole expanding in my chest. I dragged my gaze across the words swirled on the page.
Aldine’s condition, as you have described, is concerning. If you choose to abort the task and are able to exit the citadel by way of your entrance, then I may arrange for your immediate extraction.
My father had said I, not we. Would he pull Chace and I out of a task without the assistance of the Collections Office? Possibly without their knowledge?
I continued reading.
That having been said, if you wish to continue searching for a way to succeed in your tasked reap, thus remaining within the walls, might I suggest you seek out Valen. If he still dwells within the citadel, he may be one of the few able to help with Aldine’s physical and mental state.
I will await word of your decision. And no matter your choice, may I beseech you to always, always be vigilant.
Most sincerely,
Your father,
Scorpeo Gunn
I stared at the words for longer than necessary, then I pressed the fold of paper to my chest. The mere words on paper didn’t repair the widening void within me, but the message brought me the closest I’d been to my family in days.
Simply knowing this Valen existed and might be somewhere within our reach gave me hope.
“I don’t know who Valen is,” I said. “But we need to find him.”
“Or arrange for Aldine to be sent home alone…for his own sake,” Chace countered.
Or that. That’s definitely a possibility.
I chewed on the inside of my lip. “But the wording in the note suggests we’re all expected to leave together.”
Go home.
I so wanted to go home. Only I would forever regret leaving our task at the citadel incomplete.
“Maybe because he’s technically our chaperone?” Chace offered.
“Maybe.” Except didn’t the reaping always take priority?
I quickly scribbled a new note to my father and, exposing one of my secrets to Chace, summoned a crow (the raven did not come) using the crow caller, then I sent the message on its way.
Now we wait.
“Handy.” Chace pushed away from the wardrobe, his attention lingering on the summoning device. “What did you say?”
I flicked my gaze over him and then quickly away because…why? Why wasn’t he wearing a shirt?
I cleared my throat. “I asked for a date and time of extraction, just in case.” I slipped the crow caller into my side pocket, then I turned and stared out the window. “In the interim, I think it would be a good idea to try and locate this Valen individual.”
I glanced over my shoulder to gauge his reaction. I did not—did not—sneak another peek at his swirling ink…or moisture-kissed, naked chest.
He grunted, which I took as his agreement.
The intense glare that sparked in his eyes melted me like heated wax beneath his scrutiny. His attention left me hot, thrumming, frustrated, irritated, short of breath, and something else I didn’t want to explore.
His eyebrows arched, and my cheeks flamed. I turned to the sight outside the window, hoping to hide my face from him in case my cheeks blushed too brightly.
He left the room.
And with his departure, the weight upon my chest lifted, and I rediscovered the ease of breath his mere presence had managed to squeeze from my lungs.
But the pooling heat… That attempted to take ownership of my body and did not wane.
The next morning, heavy banging on my door pulled me from a restless sleep. Knocks paired with Aoes’s voice calling my name, once, twice, three times.
My body ached, and I fought to keep my eyes closed and limbs unmoving. My usual hour to rise had not yet arrived, had it?
I grumbled something unintelligible.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Raven. It’s me,” Aoes said from the hallway. “Wake up.”
Mumbling a curse, I rubbed my eyes with my unbandaged hand and reluctantly forced myself upward.
Last night’s confrontation with Chace had taxed me and torn the energy from my soul. Even now, the weight of the exchange continued to confuse me, press my shoulders to the ground. Trust between us might be forever unattainable.
Gunn and Badden do not mix.
A new day and the vision of his disapproving silver-gray glower and strong set jaw still burned behind my eyes.
Just as his half-naked body swam through my thoughts all throughout the night.
That, and the sight, sensation, of us pressed together on the pub’s second story roof. Him sucking on my finger.
I wanted to pummel his face. And then do other things I’d never considered.
Surely, my hand couldn’t compare to his…
Reaping gods. I’m not right in the head.
I weakly punched the softness of my pillow.
“Raven,” Aoes called.
“I’m up.” I yawned, released my fist, and stretched wide. The light beyond the window shone too weak, not yet the day’s sunrise. “What do you want?”
The hour clearly too early for such rude awakenings, added to my failure to successfully reap, made me less than eager to start another unproductive day.
I didn’t even want to consider the messy knot in my gut that 100 percent revolved around Chace and whatever thoughts and emotions I’d experienced the previous two nights.
“You have a visitor. You must come down right away.” The sound of Aoes’s retreat echoed through the outer hall.
With my body and mind weary, I pushed myself into a rash prep for work and then headed to the pub below. Chace already sat there, alone. He had his attention glued to a group of three huddled at the next table over: Aoes, a young woman, and an older gentleman.
At my approach, all three of them leaped to their feet.
Chace also rose, albeit slower, and, slipping his hands into his pockets, turned to face me. “Can you explain this?”
His words dropped like an anchor in my gut. Once again, he accused me of something, but of what, I had no clue. With heat rising over my cheeks and burning into my brow, I peered past him and Aoes to the two visiting strangers.
They looked unfamiliar to m—
No. It can’t be.
My heart clenched.
Aoes rounded the room.
He grabbed my shoulders, shook me, and stared into my eyes, his own chocolate-brown orbs sparking with excitement. “This is a miracle. I had no idea… I thought… How did you do it?”