43. Chapter Forty-Three - Wilder
I peel off my jacket, and the canvas material of my uniform falls to the floor.
Next, I tug my shirt over my head and let it drop next to the coat.
I go to my chest of drawers and yank out a plain white T-shirt.
When I glance outside, a few lights are on in the buildings across the street, but most businesses and homes are still rationing energy with the generators.
By tomorrow, though, the grid should be back up and running.
After several hours of discussions with Michael Bersa today, I finally got some assurance.
He’d be back in production by morning with Dimitri’s replacement.
One win, at least.
The piercing ring of my phone jolts me from my thoughts.
Stellan’s name lights up the screen, and I frown.
I’ve been waiting for this call all day.
Since Leigh refuses to meet in person, I need to convince Stellan to meet her as an astral projection.
If he does, they might reconcile their differences and keep Aurora on the Corona map.
But after Stellan’s explosive article about Fynn, negotiations will be like treading on thin ice, with each step shattering the fragile peace.
He needs to take down the article before they talk—if they talk at all.
“Stellan.”
“Ah, Wilder, I hope you have good news for me,” he replies.
In the background, papers rustle.
“Are you ready to join my team of freedom fighters?”
I put him on speakerphone so I can put on a shirt.
“I haven’t decided yet.” The only way I’d work for him is if he and Leigh teamed up together.
“But if you want me to keep thinking about it, rather than flat out refusing, I suggest removing the article before we get into it.”
“Which article?” Stellan’s feigned innocence has me frowning at my reflection in the mirror.
“Don’t get cute. You know which article,” I growl.
The silence on the other end is maddening.
I can almost see Stellan’s self-satisfied smirk.
“It’s libel.”
“Is it?”
I cross my arms and lean against my dresser, unsure what to think.
Leigh didn’t tell me anything last night.
Instead, she distracted me with sex.
She needed the distraction, and I was too eager to give in to her when I should have pressed her more.
I take a deep breath to ebb the frustration within me, knowing she doesn’t trust me enough to confide in me.
“Writing about her family is a sure way to get on her bad side before you two have a chance to be friends,” I tell him.
There’s murmuring on the other line, followed by the soft thud of a closing door.
When Stellan speaks again, his voice is low and conspiratorial, a snake’s whisper in the dark.
“I get my information from a very trusted source, Wilder. They have it on good authority that Fynn is Don Raelyn’s son, which questions whether Leigh is, too. Not much is known about Lunar witchcraft. Just because she summoned Gwyn’s ghost doesn’t mean she is his heir. And maybe I don’t want to be Leigh’s friend.”
I glare at my phone.
What the hell?
Leigh is the rightful monarch.
Stellan is stirring up trouble.
“Did you ever have any intention of meeting with her? Or were you just dicking me around until your article came out? Because I don’t get the sense you want to collaborate,” I demand.
“Who even is your source, anyway?”
Stellan’s laugh is like nails on a chalkboard.
“A good journalist never reveals their sources, Wilder.”
“A good journalist also doesn’t fuck up their career by not fact-checking said sources,” I retort.
“You’re angry.”
“No shit. Leigh isn’t forgiving, and you aren’t making her reign any easier.” The words come out in a rush.
“If you could take a step back and view the situation from all sides, you’d know Leigh wants the same thing as you. Justice for the Nebula; peace in Corona.”
Stellan exhales loudly.
“It’s not my job to make it easier. Neither is it yours. She inherited a trainwreck, and if she and her family intend to keep secrets, then my goal is to uncover every one of them. If what I wrote about Fynn wasn’t true, why hasn’t anyone issued a statement?”
His question hangs between us like forbidden fruit.
I don’t have an answer because Leigh didn’t tell me anything.
I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“You seem like you need a minute,” Stellan muses.
“Should we recess and convene later?”
As my phone dings, I open my mouth to ask him about the astral projection.
It’s a text from Leigh.
My breath stalls.
Leigh
I’m coming to Aurora tonight.
I’ll sleep on the train.
Set up the meeting with Stellan.
Make it early.
I need to be back in Borealis tomorrow before midnight.
Holy hell.
Leigh’s coming to Aurora.
What made her change her mind?
You know what, it doesn’t matter.
She is coming, which means, things are finally heading in the right direction.
A surge of anticipation courses through me, a potent mix of excitement and nervous energy.
Leigh, here ?
In the same space as me, not just an astral projection or in my dreams?
The possibilities are endless – and intoxicating.
“Wilder?” Stellan prompts.
I clear my throat.
“Leigh agreed to meet. If you mean what you said at the rally about peace and are willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that it lasts, then you will meet us tomorrow at Furies at ten o’clock in the morning. Don’t be late.”
No sound comes from Stellan’s end.
I think I’ve shocked him.
He’s a small-time reporter running for mayor and gets a one-on-one with the queen.
Maybe he is having a heart attack.
The thought brings a grim smile to my face.
“Hello?” I ask.
“I’ll be there.”
“And the article?”
I leave my room to scrounge up whatever is left over from dinner in the kitchen.
As I descend the stairs, a warm evening breeze rustles my hair, carrying the scent of blooming flowers.
The aroma is a welcome change from the sterile, stale air that had been clinging to my room.
I pause on the last step, drawn to the open doorway.
Instead of heading straight for the kitchen, I veer off course and step out into the balmy night.
“When Leigh revealed the letters, she proved that, as Nebula, we must demand better. We must demand the truth . Let Leigh address the article’s validity. Until then, I won’t take it down. If you can’t accept that, perhaps this meeting is a bad idea,” Stellan says.
I take a deep breath.
He’s right, but airing family secrets fans the flames of discord.
He is doing more harm than good for our people.
“You’re playing with fire,” I point out.
Stellan’s response is quick.
“Imagine if the Council’s predecessors hadn’t covered up the truth about the First War, and the Labor Laws never existed—would you have enrolled at the Blade Academy following your Emergence? Or would you have pursued another path? As leader of this new enclave, I plan to give all Nebula a choice . I’m not the bad guy. So if that is playing with fire, I’ll happily burn.”
Outside the common room, I pause where a movie’s muffled sounds filter through the door.
Gianna is curled up on the couch, the flickering light casting shadows across her face.
The sight of her sends a pang through my heart.
I can only imagine the pain she’s going through as Fynn’s former fiancée since that article was published.
Maybe Leigh opened up to her about Fynn.
Perhaps they spoke about what Leigh and I couldn’t.
“Stellan, you don’t know the first thing about running a country,” I say.
“You need Leigh, and Leigh needs you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hang up the phone, then I text Leigh back.
Wilder
Meeting scheduled.
Leigh
Leave your door unlocked.
Wilder
I’ll pick you up.
We need a moment alone before we meet with Stellan—a chance to align our thoughts and strategies—and I don’t trust us being able to have that conversation in my room and keep our clothes on.
If I am driving, I’ll have a better shot at keeping my hands to myself.
More importantly, we need to have a heart-to-heart before we have sex again.
The secrets between us create a chasm I fear will soon become insurmountable if we don’t address them.
Leigh texts back a playful wink face emoji, eliciting a smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth.
This could be massive if she’s really had a change of heart.
At a minimum, knowing that she’ll be here, in the flesh, is progress.
When I step into the common room, Gianna doesn’t move.
I sink into the couch opposite her.
“What are you watching?” I ask.
With a subtle flick of her wrist, she uses her Cosmic magic to pause the program.
A brooding, pale-faced actor freezes mid-sentence, his chiseled features etched with a tortured expression.
“Some vampire romance.”
“Is it any good?” I ask.
I’ll ease into asking about Fynn.
Gi shrugs.
“I think the main character is based on Prince Vane.”
I chuckle.
“So, what? He’s a romance cover model reject?”
A faint smirk plays on her lips, a glimmer of her former self shining through the cracks in her newest mask.
A mask that tells everyone that life in Aurora has been great, despite being attacked, and nearly killed.
“Slow your judgment. Someone may look at you with all those tattoos and piercings and think you’re a bad boy cliché.”
I examine my inked hands and forearms.
“Are you kidding? These are works of art. It’s not as if I got barbed wire or biomechanical designs.”
“I think Ry has a series of gears tattooed on him,” she says.
“He does.” I laugh, and it feels good.
I haven’t laughed much in recent days.
Gianna snorts, a sound so unexpected that it makes me laugh harder.
“Where is he?” I ask.
Ry’s been trailing after Gianna like a lost puppy since she arrived.
“He went somewhere with Pallas.”
I nod, noting the slight change in her tone, the way her eyes flicker with an emotion I can’t decipher.
Pallas arrived yesterday.
Eddo took one look at him, huffed, and walked off, leaving me to deal with yet another one of his issues.
Pallas hasn’t told me what he did to get sent here, but I know it has to do with Leigh and what she was up to that day in her kitchen.
I doubt it is legal.
Eventually, I’ll get it out of him, but for now, I focus on the broken girl before me.
“You and Ry have been spending a lot of time together,” I remark.
Gi lifts a brow.
“Yeah, so? He’s nice.”
“So is Meg when she wants to be,” I say carefully.
My friends have made it their mission to see which one of them Gianna will fall for first.
“She is.”
“Pretty, too.”
Gianna’s eyes narrow.
“I never pegged you for a gossip.”
I blink.
It dawns on me that I’ve annoyed her, which wasn’t part of the plan.
“I’m sorry. I know they both like you, and I wanted to see if there’s a chance you returned either of their feelings. I thought that if you can’t find information on your birth father, then maybe a winter romance wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I didn’t mean to upset or pry into your personal life.”
Gi sighs.
“Look, ever since my Emergence, my future has been meticulously planned. First, it was Fynn, and then Hammond Bishop—always someone who could provide the best financial security for me and my family. I’ve never had the luxury of choosing a partner based on genuine attraction or connection. Honestly, I don’t know where to begin when it comes to dating without first assessing what they can offer me.”
Gianna fidgets with the hem of her linen shirt.
She inhales a deep breath, her voice a whisper as she continues, “I’m pathetic, right? A shallow, calculating girl who can’t see beyond the superficial?”
“You are not pathetic. You are just . . .” I consider how to say what I want to without sounding like an ass, but I also believe Gianna would appreciate the honesty right now.
Her entire life has been a lie.
“Lost.”
Gianna nods.
“Yeah. That sounds about right.”
“Can I ask you something about Fynn?” I ask as gently as possible.
I need to know more about what I might be walking into when Leigh arrives.
It would be enormously helpful if Gi knew whether the rumor was true.
“What about him?” Gi asks.
I drape an arm across the back of the couch to appear more casual, though my heart is pounding so hard I’m sure Gianna can see it.
“Stellan’s article—has Leigh confided in you?” I ask.
“No.” She shakes her head.
“She hasn’t, but I’ve been thinking about Fynn a lot.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t think Fynn is Don’s son. He never let on if he was, but our engagement wasn’t profound. He didn’t tell me anything worthwhile. He was too besotted with his ex to pay me much attention.” I raise a brow.
“Oh, come on, you must have heard the rumors.”
“Sorry, no.”
Gi sits straighter.
“Fynn was seeing this Nebula girl, Corvina. They were in love, based on what I gathered. But he dumped her and asked me to marry him, likely for propriety’s sake.” She gives me a sympathetic look, but I refuse to show any emotion.
Leigh and I will cross that bridge when the time comes .
If it ever does.
“I felt sorry for the girl but said yes to the proposal, regardless. Anything to obtain an ounce of approval from Elio.” She says her stepfather’s name like a sneer.
“Where is Corvina now?” I make a mental note to look into her, to unravel the mystery of Fynn’s past and the secrets he took to his grave.
Maybe he confided in her before he died.
“Corvina isn’t a danger to Leigh.”
“How do you know?”
“We went to school together. The girl is a mouse.”
Yeah, but mice still have sharp teeth.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a beat, and Gianna’s brows dip.
“Fynn was your future husband, and though there was no love between you, it still must’ve hurt when he died, and again, it must’ve been tough to call off your engagement to Hammond.”
Gianna tips her head back and laughs, but there’s no humor.
“Calling off my engagement to Hammond was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. But do you want to know the hardest?”
“What’s that?”
“Coming here to be turned away at every turn. I thought I’d finally get answers about my family by talking with Stellan, but he hasn’t had time for me, and then the riot at the rally happened, and—” She cuts herself off with a groan that tightens my throat.
“I’ll never know where I belong.”
“Maybe Stellan doesn’t have all the answers.”
She nods solemnly.
“Maybe.”
“I’m going to see if we have any leftovers from dinner. Hungry?” I ask.
“I ate.” Gi waves her hand, and the screen returns to life.
I take that as my cue to leave.
As I go, I glance back at Gianna.
She quickly wipes an errant tear off her cheek.
Fuck , I wish there was more I could do for her.
“Leigh will be here in the morning,” I say to better her mood.
Gianna’s eyes widen.
“She will?”
Something about her worried tone gives me pause.
“I thought you’d be excited.”
Gianna swallows.
“I am. I just wasn’t expecting it. Do you know why she’s coming?”
I hesitate.
If I tell her about the meeting with Stellan, she’ll probably want to come.
But if she comes, Stellan may be less inclined to cooperate with Leigh.
I can’t take that risk.
“I miss her,” I say, and Gi makes a gagging noise.
“Why don’t you give her a call? She has a long train ride.”
Gianna doesn’t reach for her phone.
“No, that’s okay. I will see her when she gets here.”
Baffled by her response, I walk away.
What the hell was that all about?