Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
We allowed ourselves a few days of normalcy while Sebastian healed and the rest of us tried to come to terms with everything that had happened since we arrived in Lumosia. For me, that meant finally allowing myself to grieve my mother, my relationship, and the woman I used to be.
I had gone to see Sebastian every day he had been in the infirmary. And visiting him with the new title of friend felt downright weird. But for the time being, it had to be this way, even though it killed me inside.
The icing on the damn carrot cake—I fucking hated carrot cake, especially with nuts—was that tonight was my belated birthday celebration thrown by Pia and Delani. I didn’t want to celebrate, but now that Sebastian was back to full health—physically at least—they demanded that we partied.
There were much more pressing matters to attend to aside from getting drunk. For instance, we needed to tell Sebastian that we found his mother’s journal. We all agreed to wait until he’d fully recovered to tell him, but we still weren’t sure if he was mentally fit to process it.
We also still had a king to kill and a new species to uncover, but Pia assured me that all of that could wait until tomorrow. Or the next day, rather. Tomorrow we would probably all be hungover.
When the sun had fallen behind the mountains and the stars rolled in to replace its glow, we gathered in the courtyard where we would ignite a small fire and have a few drinks.
“I know it’s not even my actual birthday, but I have anxiety just thinking about it,” I said into my glass.
“Then don’t think about it.” Sawyer tipped the cup back when I went to take a sip, making me swallow more than I’d planned.
“Dick,” I coughed, gagging at the burn in my throat.
“In all seriousness, though, I get that. I mean, for you, your birthday is just a reminder that you never wanted a life like this. So yeah, I can imagine that kinda sucks.”
My nose scrunched. “Have you always been this brutally blunt?”
“I’m pretty sure my first sentence was something along the lines of how my mother’s cooking was subpar.”
Wiping my mouth, I laughed in sync with him, though the smile left my lips when he left to tend to the fire and his presence was replaced by Sebastian.
“Happy belated birthday,” he said flatly, his hands tucked into the pockets of his thigh-hugging black slacks.
“Thanks. But you know how I feel about this day. Well, the actual day.”
“Yeah, I know. But still.” His gaze roamed from the drink in my hand, to my lips, unashamedly staring at them before meeting my eyes. “I would have gotten you a gift, but shopping is pretty difficult when you're chained to a chair.”
My brows sunk into my eyelashes. “Not funny.”
He shrugged. “If I don’t laugh, I’ll cry.”
I fisted my glass tighter, knowing that although he said the words playfully, he meant them.
“And you already got me a gift.” I patted my thigh where the custom dagger he gave me laid flat against the muscle.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
After sucking down another sip of my drink, my eyes drifted to his ankle, still wrapped with a beige bandage. “How’s your ankle?”
“Better. Pia is a good healer, but Venay is incredible. If only we had her after your run in with Lucan,” he answered, rolling the foot a few times for example.
My attention dipped back to my cup while I winced at the reminder of my face being dragged across rough cement. If that memory still cursed my brain every time I thought about it, then what Sebastian went through in Draemor surely kept him up at night.
When I didn’t respond, he took the glass from my hand so that I’d look at him. His fingers grazed my skin, and instant electricity sparked with his touch.
The spark sizzled away. I had to force it to, but I managed to extinguish it all the same.
He exhaled sharply, taking a sip from the whiskey in my cup. His favorite. I never liked it until him.
“I know there's stuff you all haven’t told me yet. And honestly, I’m thankful that you all waited, but I’m ready to hear whatever it is you need to tell me.”
I scoffed, accepting my glass back from his outstretched hand, his bulging veins drawing me in.
He may have been ready to hear it all, but sharing it was a whole other story.
I had no doubts in my mind that he could handle it all, and regardless, I wouldn’t keep the information from him. I wouldn’t do what he did to me.
“You want to do this now?” I asked as a raging shooting star shot through the night sky.
“Yes. If you are willing.”
I turned to him, allowing him to see the darkness that laid upon my face. “I’ll give you the basics, but the details will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m already too tipsy for this.”
He let a grin slip free. “Deal. Let me have it.”
I drew in a deep breath, and on the exhale of my words, I watched his mind be blown.
“Venay told me that there was in fact another journal written by your mother. She knew this because they were friends growing up, and Venay enchanted the book for her. She made it impossible to destroy and impossible to be opened by anyone other than you and your father. We were hopeful that if we could find it, there would be something written about how to help you, so Venay agreed to undo the enchantment if we found the journal. That was the original plan, but after some digging we had no idea where it could be. Instead, Venay performed some kind of dark magic ritual with Kohen, during which she located the journal.” I sucked in another harsh breath before continuing.
“Turns out the fucking book was in Draemor of all places. How did it get there? Don’t ask because I still don’t know. ”
Sebastian’s body turned statue-like, but he let me ramble on.
“Anyways, we came up with a plan to find the journal while saving you. When we got back and you were stable, Venay undid the enchantment so we could start reading while you were healing and she seemed insistent on wanting to help. None of us ended up looking through the journal yet, though. The more we thought about it, we figured it would be best if you got to first. Oh, also apparently Beaumont is creating some kind of mutant magic-wielding creatures and keeping them in a secluded area of Draemor’s dungeon.
Also, he told me that those who have markings like mine are considered gods in the eyes of some.
But I’m pretty sure that’s just a load of crap he fed me to freak me out, which it did.
” I tapped a finger to my chin, then finished with a diminished breath, “I think that’s it. ”
He didn’t flinch. He just stared at me wide-eyed, blinking ever so slowly.
“That’s it? That’s the basics?” he scoffed, repeating my words back to me. His dark curls shook with his denial. “Where’s the journal now?”
“Sawyer has it.”
“And these creatures?”
“Leighton can explain that. She knows more than I do. Do you remember seeing it in the dungeon?”
“Now that you mention it, a little, yeah. I wasn’t sure if it was real or something my mind made up.
I even thought I may have dreamt it. And I saw the journal in the bookcase in Beaumont’s study right before he brought me to the dungeons.
” Sebastian stumbled back, falling onto an empty bench.
He looked as though he had just uncovered a life-changing revelation with the way his face dawned an expression of disbelief.
With a swirl of the liquid, I passed him my glass. “You definitely need this more than I do.”
He took a heavy handed swig, then placed the glass beside him on the bench. “I wonder what it’s like to be normal. To lead a semi-standard life.”
I snorted. “You and me both.”
“Like, not even normal in the sense that I wasn’t gifted, but more so if I was never a prince. If I had a typical family—a living mother and a father who actually cared about me.”
“Well damn, Sebastian. This is supposed to be a celebration.” I took a seat beside him, ensuring to keep some space between our bodies.
He laughed. “I’m not in my feelings or anything, I’m just saying. Things have never been status quo in my life, and I just wonder what it’s like.”
“Probably boring. Isn’t this way more fun? Spending each day wondering if we’ll live to see another? I’ve spent more time planning my own funeral than my wedding.”
“Well damn, Maeve. This is supposed to be a celebration.”
Our gazes locked in tune with our laughter, though the lines in the corner of his eyes fell flat.
“You good?” I raised a brow.
“Yeah. I just…I dunno.”
“What?” I pried, subconsciously stretching my fingers into the space separating us.
His neck bent towards his lap as he ran a finger over a new scar on the back of his hand. “It’s just nice…talking to you like this. Like we used to.”
“You mean having a serious discussion at an inappropriate time?”
He let a small huff of laughter free. “We do tend to do that, don’t we?”
“It’s our go-to.”
“Usually after sex,” he pointed out.
“Formerly after sex,” I corrected. “But this is nice too—talking as friends.”
His head upturned towards me and he leaned in nearly flushing our bodies together. “You keep saying that word, though you know it's not the truth.”
I sucked in a breath, securing it in my lungs. When I had solidified that friends was how he and I would remain, was beyond me. I didn't love the conclusion, but it was for the best. “It’s the truth.”
He wrapped his hand around my back, pulling me forward so my peaked nipples prodded his chest. “Then why has your breathing turned heavy? And why have your cheeks flushed from something as simple as me touching you?”
Because I knew deep down he and I would never truly be just friends.
I would always love him, even if my brain wouldn't let me be with him. It was almost as if our roles had switched. Last year he claimed he couldn’t be with me due to his past, now I was claiming that I couldn't be with him due to our past. The situation was just so messy and confusing.
“Friends,” I repeated, allowing my eyelids to fall.