Chapter 48
Rylee
I freeze just outside Tareena’s gardens.
Lucas is there, his fingers sunk into the dirt where we’ve been safely gathering Tareena’s golden flowers for Ivy’s antidote.
Is he destroying the rest of the roots we have?
Panic fuels my instincts. I race toward him, seeing him no longer as a king but as a threat to all we’re working toward. I grip his shoulder, yanking him backward so hard, his hand comes out of the soil, and the two of us topple onto the paved walkway surrounding it.
“What the—” He grunts as he spots me.
“You can’t!” I huff, scrambling to my feet, positioning myself between him and the patch of garden.
Lucas looks up at me like I’ve spoken a language he doesn’t understand.
“I can’t what?” he asks, shoving to his feet. I rarely get this close to him. Sometimes I forget he’s almost as big as Axl. Power flares to life beneath my skin. I really don’t want to have to fight him.
“Destroy her gardens,” I answer, raising a hand like I’m imploring him, but really, I’m readying my wind, reaching for his airways.
He scrunches his brow. “I’m not.” He wipes his hand, soil falling from his fingertips. Just as quickly, he snaps them. “Look.”
I whirl around, scared I missed something—
“Oh,” I say, my shoulders dropping. Sprouts that weren’t there moments ago creep up from the dirt. I lower my hand, turning back to him. “You’re . . . helping?”
“Axl told me about the antidote. Said you found it in her flowers,” he explains.
I part my lips. Shut them. His power is tied to the earth, close to Ivy’s but infinitely deeper. I never thought he’d be on our side. Still, I’m wary, not taking my eyes off him as he cautiously steps around me, crouching and touching the soil again.
The sprouts stretch toward the sun, the green stems curling and spiraling until buds form. A few of them bloom, the stunning golden petals shimmering.
“That’s incredible,” I say, unable to hold back the wonder in my voice. “Thank you.”
He clears his throat as he draws his hand back. “We built this space together, my mate and I,” he says, eyeing the massive gardens around us. His gaze lingers in the distance, on the back of Tareena’s temple. “Surely Axl told you that.”
“He did,” I answer. “The first time he brought me here.” We both stand again, looking over the lush space. “He also told me he’s been taking care of it alone.”
Lucas nods. “I was angry with her when she went to sleep. It took me a decade to get over it,” he says, then shrugs. “I’m not sure if I’ve ever really healed from losing her. I . . . Coming out here brought all that back.”
“I understand that.” I agree with the king, a shocker to all. “If one of my mates left me to protect the realm . . . I know it’s an admirable thing, but I’m selfish enough not to care about such honors.”
Lucas flashes me a half smile. It looks genuine.
He studies me, searching for something long enough that I throw up internal walls to contain the power rumbling inside me.
I long for the day I don’t have to hide who I really am anymore.
For a time when no one has to live in fear just for being born different from others.
“Brooks mentioned he spoke with you at Eirdis’s temple yesterday.”
I nod.
“He trusts you,” he says on a breath. “I have a harder time opening up.”
I arch a brow. “I gathered that.” I also thought he had little care for anything other than himself, and yet he’s here helping replenish the flowers we need.
“My son loves you,” he says, eyeing the token on my wrist.
“And I him,” I say.
Lucas glances at the flowers again. “I remember that kind of love,” he says, his smile widening.
“She came into my life like a thunderstorm over the ocean, wild and unpredictable. Addictive. I couldn’t get enough of her.
She opened my mind to a world I couldn’t imagine.
Sometimes I wonder why I ever let her go to sleep in the first place. ”
I stay quiet, instinct prickling on the back of my neck. I casually glance behind me, worried some danger lurks at the garden’s edge, but I see nothing.
“Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t fight her on it. Tell her that sacrifice for the realm wasn’t worth it.”
That gets my attention, and my heart actually aches for him in this moment. Again, I can’t imagine any one of my mates doing anything like that. And it might make me a selfish asshole, but I wouldn’t trade any of their lives for the entire universe.
“Did you?” I carefully ask. “Did you try to talk her out of it?”
It’s likely a fool’s question. He doesn’t have to answer me. He doesn’t even have to speak to me. This is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.
Lucas’s eyes wax over a bit as he turns inward. He shakes his head. “It’s murky.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “That entire time feels like a dream,” he explains.
“Axl was young and wild. He rarely slept. We were tired, despite our powers. But even with all that . . .” He stops himself, then shrugs another time.
“I can’t quite grasp onto the memory. I don’t even remember what I said to her before she went to sleep. ”
I swallow around the knot of emotion that lodges in my throat. That’s sad. How can he not remember? Though, I know trauma like losing a loved one can be suppressed in different ways. There are things I can’t remember about my parents because of the pain stitched around their memory.
“I’m sorry.” I say the words before I can stop them.
Before I can remind myself that this is Lucas Dawson, one of the four kings of Lumathyst. A king who ate dessert while his fellow king forced a demi to dance themselves to death in front of me.
A king who seems to too often turn away when horrendous acts are taking place.
“I truly am,” I continue, because it’s honest. To not be able to remember that last moment with his mate . . . The notion makes me shudder.
Lucas blinks a few times, then clears his throat. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” he says, nodding to the flowers. “I don’t want to overdo it and have them overgrown and killing each other.”
“Flowers can do that?”
“Sometimes,” he says. “It’s all about balance.” His words remind me of Ivy, and for half a second, I wonder if the two would get along. Bond over their similar powers.
“Thank you,” I say, but it sounds almost like a question.
He laughs, and it reminds me of Axl’s laugh, which causes a kernel of trust to grow between us even though I know it shouldn’t. “Give me time,” he says, heading past me. He stops at the edge of the garden path. “Once you’re queen, I’ll try to prove to you that I’m not as big a dick as I seem.”
Shock keeps me rooted in place, speechless as he turns down the path and out of sight. Was that his way of telling me I’ve earned his vote?