Chapter 8
Jax
I’ve never known happiness like this—genuine, soul-filling joy.
It’s foreign to me.
And yet, I know what it feels like to lose it, to lose her.
I never want that to happen again.
The thought keeps me from sleep. Propels me out of bed and up to my top-floor balcony.
Rylee holds my power again, so I can’t feel the stars like I used to—their energy fueling my power, like the sun does for Kal, or the ocean for Axl, or knowledge for Pierce—but something about looking up at the midnight blanket calms me.
A warm sensation slides down my spine, and I can’t stop my smile.
“You should be asleep, butterfly,” I say, turning to find Rylee padding barefoot across the balcony toward me. She’s wearing one of my black shirts and nothing else, looking like temptation personified.
Except for her eyes, which are filled with fear and shadowed by dark circles.
I hurry to set my drink on the table near the couches lining the balcony and immediately cup her cheeks between my hands.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, hating that I don’t know. Hating that I can’t even begin to understand what she’s been through.
She shakes her head. “I’m okay. Just a nightmare.”
I shift my hold on her, gently dragging her backward and into my lap as we settle on the nearest couch. “Tell me?”
She doesn’t have to. I don’t know if she trusts me enough with certain parts of herself. Everything has happened so fast between us, and she’s kept secrets before, understandably. And yes, she keeps choosing me, choosing all of us, but there are so many pieces of us left unexplored. Untested.
A rope wraps around my chest and squeezes tighter the longer she remains silent.
She trembles in my lap, and I draw her closer. I can’t tell if she’s cold or if the nightmare still has hold of her.
“Why should I tell you?” she finally asks, her voice light as she shifts to look me in the eyes. She rubs her hand along my chest. “So the real Nightmare can chase away the others?” Her smile is gentle, almost sad.
I capture her hand against my chest, holding it there. “I will gladly destroy anything that brings you pain.”
She blows out a breath, blinking back tears as she wraps her arms around me and lays her head against my shoulder.
I lean my cheek against hers, holding her tight.
“When I was asleep . . .” she starts, not moving from her position. “Not just now, but this whole time . . .”
“Seven days.” I fill the space for her.
“During that time, everything felt real.” She flinches, and adrenaline courses through my veins, sharpening my instinct to protect her.
“I was trapped in Evaluna’s temple. Stairs with no end.
I couldn’t get to you and the others. I spoke with your mother.
” She shrugs. “At the time, I thought it was a continuation of the Athanry.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know. It had to be just a nightmare, right? Maybe what Evaluna told me was all in my head, too.”
I swallow hard. “What did she tell you?”
Her features grow severe. “That war is coming.”
That adrenaline in my blood prickles. I smooth my hand along her cheek. “A nightmare. I hate that you endured that while asleep.”
She huffs. “I would’ve much preferred to dream about you and the others the entire time.”
I grin at her, brushing a soft kiss against her lips before pulling back. “What about tonight? Did you dream of the temple?”
She swallows hard. “No,” she admits, tucking closer. “Tonight, I dreamed of my sister. She had a knife. Sank it into my back.”
I flinch at the visual painted in my mind—it was my blades that hurt her, not her sister’s.
“I never should’ve thrown those blades.”
“I would’ve,” she says, not taking her eyes off me. “If any one of you was threatened. I would do anything to stop it.”
She’s releasing me of blame, but I don’t accept it. Her mercy is undeserved.
“Are you ready to talk about her?” I ask.
Her eyes gauge mine, studying.
“I don’t know.” She tilts her head. “You’re not angry with me.” It’s a statement, not a question.
I gently tug some of her long blond hair with my free hand. “Reading my emotions, butterfly?”
“Yes. I think? It’s confusing.”
“No one expects you to immediately understand and control our powers,” I assure her. “We’ve had our whole lives to explore the depths of them, to connect with them, partner with them. You . . . you’re on a much quicker learning curve.”
She laughs, and I swear I fall for her a little more in that moment. “I’ve been on a steep learning curve since you called my number at the Choosing ceremony.”
“Do you regret it?” The vulnerable question slips out before I can stop it.
A crease forms between her eyebrows. “Not for a second,” she says. “How can you ask me that?”
I shrug, looking away from her to the stars blanketing the sky. “You died.” The words choke out of me. “And I don’t believe I’m worth all the pain I’ve brought to your world.” The admission stings, but it’s difficult to hide things from her anymore.
“Don’t you dare say that,” she says, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at her.
“You’re worth everything. You and the others make me feel alive.
You Choosing me is the first time in my entire life that I’ve felt complete.
Like I’m finally where I’m meant to be. And I would do all of it .
. . the trials, the Athanry, dying . . .
I would do it a hundred times over if being with all of you was the end result. ”
A knot forms in my throat. I feel my power spiral around the bond connecting us, a feverish sort of pursuit that has my gut clenching. Shit, she’s angry and hurt and loves me so fucking much. I can feel it all for a split second before the power snaps back to her.
“I love you,” I say, smoothing my hands up and down her back, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside her.
She sucks in a sharp breath, visibly swallowing as she nods. “I love you, Jax. I’m sorry about the power . . . I can’t . . . I don’t know why that happens.”
“I have a guess,” I say. “It seems to snap back to us when you’re angry or when you think we’re in danger.
” Like at the battle right after she woke up the first time or earlier tonight, when she found those Faders surrounding us.
“Or,” I continue, “when you’re out of control, completely letting go.
” Like when we were all with her tonight in my bathing chamber.
A subtle flush rakes over her cheeks, and I’ve never wished for my power back so badly, if only to feed off that desire churning in her eyes.
She dips down, kissing me. Slowly, softly, no urgency in it.
I hold her tighter against me, savoring the safety in this kiss.
She’s alive.
She’s with us.
Despite the shit show waiting for us when we crash back to reality. Nothing else matters. Whatever we have to deal with, we will.
And the goddesses themselves will have to deal with my wrath if they try to take her from me again.