39
Kora
SHOTS!” Aerion’s empty glass slammed down on the bar, followed by an enviable bag of coins.
“Brother, please,” Skylar muttered from the round booth. “Have some decorum.”
“I’ll take your money anytime.” Raiden grinned from behind the bar. Kora nestled in the booth of The Lost Lagoon, her mind swimming, her gullet warm from the spices of the Kera Rumbullion.
“It’s K’s birthday. She needs to do a shot for every year!” Aerion winked back at her.
“You’ll find out what this dagger can do if you make me do fifty-five shots,” Kora fired back. Her heart thudded, picking up as the shock of what she was still settled in.
“Oh, she’s got teeth and claws!” Aerion raked his hand through the air, swaying on the barstool.
Compared to The Abandoned Barnacle, The Lost Lagoon was a whole other world.
Plush velvet teal booths, offset by black oak and white-light sconces.
Flecks of silver brushed the walls in endless swirls that darkened as it met the black floor.
Dark-green cloths draped sturdy tables bolted to the floor.
But the bar . . .
Kora’s vision rippled at the dazzling auras, a multitude of blues, ranging from azure to midnight, as though the bar were alive.
Clear-cut glasses, so exquisitely fashioned it made her arms tremble just tipping the glass to her lips.
The shelves behind Raiden were organised to perfection, ancient fraying labels lining every bottle, with scrawled ink marking the grog.
Aryn lounged across from Skylar and Kora, his stare lazily tracking Aerion, who animatedly poured a tray of shots, the dark grog splashing onto the glass counter.
“Watch it,” Raiden took the bottle from him. “This is still my establishment.”
“Surely we get sibling perks,” Skylar piped up.
Kora cased the tavern. It was busy, filled with civilians dressed in their finery from celebrating Hallow’s Day.
Her gaze dipped whenever a branded forehead crossed her vision, the shame and guilt still eating away at her.
Instead, she admired the curved walls, weaving like a sea current from one end to the other.
“This is like being underwater,” Kora wondered, her fingers running down the velvet booth. Her cloak had been discarded as they sat in a hidden alcove, away from society’s eyes towards the back.
Skylar huffed beside her. “You’re catching on quick.”
Kora’s attention snapped back to Raiden.
Gods. His smile dazzled as he laughed with Aerion, tending to customers who ordered at the bar.
He was so . . . carefree. Staff dressed all in black shimmied past, delivering bowls of fried potatoes and mussels.
Their faces were bright, their steps lively as they worked the floor.
The tray of shots floated towards the table, with Aerion cheerfully following. He slid into the booth, slinging his arm across Aryn’s shoulders. His hazel eyes widened for a moment, then Aryn relaxed, his head leaning back.
“Shots! As promised.” Aerion’s magic handed them out, the curious liquid sloshing inside. Raiden shouldered into the booth next, a stranger now tending the bar. As he settled beside Aerion, his knees brushed Kora’s from across the table, the warmth jolting her.
“Hold your breath,” Skylar murmured to Kora. She inhaled in response, and coughed as the grog hit the back of her throat. “I said to hold it!”
“My gods!” Kora spluttered. “What is this?”
“The gods’ nectar,” Aerion raised his glass. “Happy Birthday, K!”
Their glasses clinked, and Kora squeezed her eyes as she tipped it back, the grog carving a path of pure fire down her throat into her stomach, where it swirled for at least several minutes. She chased it with her sweet cherry rum, but it only added to the churn.
Raiden’s gaze never left her as he finished his without so much as a flinch, and her scalp prickled, her fingers curling beneath the table.
He released his glass, his arm falling to his lap in front of her.
It could be the insane grog Aerion had bought, or the tension finally leaving her body, but Kora flexed her index finger, lightly brushing over Raiden’s rough knuckles.
His stare became so dark. The crystals winking out, replaced with the swirling hues of the bar. He tracked her scar, following the curve of her jaw, ending at her lips before meeting Kora’s unwavering stare. The burn of the grog developed, reaching lower until she rubbed her thighs together.
“That hasn’t gotten any better in the last ten years,” Aryn grimaced.
“Aerion forces me to keep it stocked. No one ever buys it.” Raiden broke the simmering tension and nudged his brother. Aerion simply shuffled further into the booth, his body pressed tightly against Aryn’s.
“Thank the gods I missed the shots,” Cassidy’s calm voice cut through the laughter. Never deviating from her ship’s colours, she peered into the booth, her nose wrinkling at the empty glasses.
“I’m sure Rai will be more than happy to pour you one, Cass.” Skylar’s smile was feral.
Kora stood, allowing Cassidy to slide in next to Skylar, the table launching into chaotic conversation. She paused, staring at the expanse of smiles, of laughter, of the overwhelming gods-damned happiness. She hadn’t experienced anything like it since playing Cribbage with Samuel, Finlay, and Aryn.
A bittersweet moment. She was happy—secretly so happy—to be making new connections, but fear still circled at the base of her spine. Fear for those who were still captured, fear for losing those sat in front of her now.
And they’d all come for her. Even Cassidy, who gently smiled up at Kora, patting the space beside her. The lasso had been placed on the shelf lining the curvature of the booth behind their heads. In fact, all their weapons adorned it. There was no threat here.
“Rai Rai!” Kora’s gut dropped. “I got waylaid by a patient but I’m here,” Sirona pulled up short, her hair a wild mess against her tawny skin. She blinked multiple times at the group, her brows slowly furrowing. “I thought it was just us two?”
Kora blanched. Were they an item? How had she not noticed? Had she been reading into every look, every touch, every . . . feeling Raiden had stirred? Skylar’s slender face pinched, Cassidy’s eyes taking on an unforgettable level of pity.
Oh.
Flashes of Bree and Blake rocked Kora, the stitches that’d been pulling the pieces of her heart back together fraying. Had she been blind again?
“I’m sure my family won’t mind. After all, we’re friends, right?” Raiden leant back into the booth, his stare pinned on Skylar then snapping to Cassidy. The two went quiet, exchanging nervous glances. He gestured to the booth and Sirona glanced at Kora.
There were two spaces left. One next to Raiden, the other beside Cassidy, where Kora had been sitting.
“You can sit on my lap if you’re stuck for choice.” Raiden stroked Kora’s mind, and she immediately sat beside Cassidy, surprise flickering across her face. Sirona smiled, her stare flickering between them as she perched next to Raiden.
He bristled, leaning towards Aerion who nuzzled Aryn’s neck in the shadows of the booth. Kora bit her bottom lip, tuning into Cassidy and Skylar’s discussion around their shared love of . . . horse riding? She didn’t expect that from Cassidy, a formidable lord and sailor.
“I had a mare once,” Kora added. “Cadence. She was a beauty.” She hoped Cadence was well. That she was safe from the darkness of the empire that still lurked outside of this tavern.
“Love that name!” Cassidy’s ringlets bounced as her head whipped from Skylar to Kora. “I prefer a stallion. My dream is to have an all-white one named Marshmallow.”
Kora blinked.
Skylar laughed, her hand slamming down on the table. “She’s messing with you, K.C. Cass once had this auburn mare with a fierce temper, but she passed in the early stages of the Mist.”
“Aye. I’ve not really settled on another horse since. They’re the best way to get around this side of the island if you can’t fly.”
As Kora relaxed into her first-ever female dominated conversation, her heart tripped over the sheer pandemonium of joy this group exuded. She brought her glass to her lips, her cheeks flaming as Raiden’s darkened stare never left her face.