32. Raea
Raea
I look out the windows into the vast emptiness, wondering what these next few weeks will bring.
In three days, Ryker and I will be married, and I have a feeling that sometime within these next few weeks, the true ‘war’ will begin.
The transport air is recycled and stale, making me crave the citrus and sea salt of Malaya that I know is waiting for us beyond the clouds.
Elison was up late studying the words of Astor and Calia and deduced the same thing. He’s off somewhere, hopefully sleeping. King Aki is locked away in a warded room on the transport with my father.
This morning, he’d been muttering strange things between his outbursts, demanding that we return him to Malaya.
Ryker has been quiet. Not distant, but withdrawn.
I can’t imagine how this is affecting him.
He told me over breakfast this morning that he was angry his father was back.
He admitted that he wished his father had really died.
I wasn’t expecting that, but after meeting the king, I can’t quite blame him. It would be hard to grow up with him as a father.
Another planet flies past the window, nothing more than a bright spot in an endless sea of black, here and then gone in a blink.
If we travel to Auralan, to Caelus, this will be my view for years. There has to be another way.
“Hey,” Ciara says, settling beside me. I look up to see her and Tate. He hands me a cup of tea. “Nervous?”
I shake my head. How do I explain the short version?
Tate sits on my other side. “Of course she’s not nervous. She’s about to be banged out of her mind. He looks like the kind of guy who’s going to break you in half and put you back together.”
I choke. My tea spews out of my mouth before I can stop it.
Ciara cackles, the sound so familiar and soothing.
“I hate you,” I wheeze, still trying to suck in air.
Tate grins. “Nah, you love me. Obsessed,” he says with a wink.
A giggle escapes me. I really do love him. Obsessed is a bit far, but I can’t imagine my life without him.
“Things are changing so fast, I feel like I can’t get my bearings.
There’s a whole prophecy I’m somehow supposed to fulfill, and people relying on me.
My magic—” I suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m terrified.
I don’t want to let everyone down. I’ve been training with Professor Ainslyn since we left school, but I don’t feel any closer than I did then.
How could the gods leave me with nothing but cryptic words and an order to go to Caelus—”
“What?” Ciara interrupts. She’s been holding my hand this whole time, and now she lets it go. “Go to Caelus?”
I sigh and then tell them about the Drift. About what Astor and Calia said, about King Aki. They both sit stunned. It’s how I feel.
The door hisses open, and Kellan enters. He looks at the three of us, then says, “RaeRae, you can’t ignore me forever.”
Indignation burns. I’m so tired and overwhelmed, I want to scream. If he wants to talk, fine.
I stand, glaring at him for the first time since the gardens. “What happened with Sienna? What did you tell her about me?”
His face drains of color as Ciara stands at my side. “What are you talking about?” She looks between the two of us.
I don’t look away when I say, “He was cozying up with Sienna and told her I was still a virgin.”
“I didn’t—” He slams his mouth closed and exhales. “It wasn’t like that. She said something about rumors of you and Ryker sleeping together. I just told her it wasn’t possible. That you wouldn’t risk your Bond. I told her that you hadn’t even kissed anyone.”
My face burns hot, but for the first time, it’s not from shame—it’s from the pride of a choice I finally made for myself.
“Well, guess what, Kellan,” I say, my voice sharp and low.
“You’re wrong. I have slept with him, and it’s amazing.
Better than amazing.” I let out a disbelieving huff.
I’m done being the girl whose innocence is a topic of conversation for people who don’t even know my heart.
“You had no right speaking on a topic you knew nothing about.”
For a moment, I relish the way his features contort as he tries to hide every emotion. His body sags, clearly giving up the fight.
“Were you in a relationship with her?”
He shakes his head. “No. We kissed once—”
“No!” Ciara gasps.
Tate whistles from behind me.
Kellan shoots him a glare. “I didn’t know she was going to hurt you. I never would have gotten involved. She never even hinted at disliking you. She was nice—”
“You kept saying you loved me all year. Meanwhile, you had your tongue down her throat.”
His face falls. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“That’s bullshit,” Tate mutters, as he shakes his head, a look of disgust on his face.
Ciara grips my hand as she glances between Kellan and me, like this is just as painful for her, too. In some ways, it probably is. It’s always been the three of us, taking the worlds on together. When I glance at her, her big brown eyes are filled with tears.
My own tears pour from my eyes. “I can’t trust you.”
His features turn pleading as Ryker enters, pausing and assessing. Trysten stands beside him.
“You’re lucky she still cares about you, or I’d make you hurt like you’ve hurt her.” Ryker’s jaw clenches as he glares at Kellan.
Trysten stays at the door while Ryker crosses the room. He stands beside me, alerting me that we will be on Malaya in ten minutes.
After the fanfare of our arrival is complete, we enter a room with Queen Priana. It’s my parents and me, Ryker, and a handful of guards.
“Tell me,” Queen Priana says, standing in front of a flickering hearth.
Her blonde hair is pulled up into a regal style, her glittering, encrusted crown with azure and sapphire jewels shines like the sea, but it’s the way her bright blue eyes assess us that makes my heart sink. Ryker told me she can sense the emotions of everyone in the room.
My mother takes her hand as my father says, “Aki is in the transport.”
She gasps, stunned. She looks around to all of us, then to Ryker. “Your father—”
“Alive. But mother…” He shakes his head. “He’s mentally unwell. I don’t think it wise to allow anyone to see him until he’s been fully evaluated and has had time to adjust.”
“He’s unsettled, angry, and muttering to himself.” My father’s eyes convey his sympathy. “I had to ward him last night. A healer has been to see him. He’s healthy, but his mind—”
Her hand flies to her mouth as a noise that can only be described as a broken sob comes out. Her fingers tremble as her eyes fill with tears. “He’s alive?”
My father’s gaze tightens as he nods.
“Priana, dear. Why don’t we call for some tea? Bastian can get Aki settled in a room for his healing,” my mother says.
Ryker's jaw tightens as his mother breaks down, and the Bond between us hums with a heavy, metallic grief. I press my side into his, offering my body as strength for him to lean on.
In an instant, I see it all. The years of this heavy burden. These years of sacrifice, of anger, of being in a position where his whole family relied on him to carry them through this. I see the young man who became an adult overnight to make sure they didn’t suffer more than they already had.
His mask is intact for everyone but me. And those dark shadows under his eyes, the brokenness and years of loneliness…it tightens in my chest.
I wrap an arm around his waist, leaning in and holding him as much as I can, hoping that he knows he’s no longer alone—never has to be again. I will spend the rest of my life walking at his side, holding him when he’s weary and allowing him to hold me too.
Together.
I feel the tension leave his body as he wraps an arm around my shoulders, holding me tighter as if to say, thank you.
Queen Priana takes a seat with my mother, both women clinging to each other like old friends. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before—the years of companionship and trust.
Ryker places a quick kiss to my head, then leaves with my father.
With a shaky voice, Queen Priana glances up at me and says, “I’m so glad you’re here, despite my current state.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “I’m quite excited to host your Ceremony and wedding. Perhaps once you’ve settled, you’d be willing to show me your gowns?”
I find Trysten in the private gym. It’s complete with weights, machines, a sparring mat, and an array of weapons along the damp up lit wall. We’re below the palace, and down here, you can smell the sea as if these walls are the only barrier to water.
Trysten’s whiskey eyes find mine. “What are you doing here?”
I blow out a long breath, finding some wrap on a shelf. “I need to blow off some steam. Please don’t hold back.”
He looks at me with a light glint in his eye. “Does Ryker know you’re down here?”
“Who do you think told me where to find you?”
He nods and agrees to spar with me, obviously aware that I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t mean it.
Sure I’ve been training everyday, but Trysten won’t hold back.
He’s never treated me like I’m fragile. He pushes me as hard as he pushes himself.
If it wasn’t for him working with me all year, I’d never have the faith in myself to withstand the coming war.
Not that I am a great warrior now, but the Raea from last year wouldn’t have lasted a second. Trysten has given me a chance. Same as Professor Ainslyn. And between the two of them, I might survive.
Trysten rips off his shirt, exposing the hard lines of his body. I do the same, leaving me in a sports bra and leggings. My hair is braided up into a crown—another Trysten suggestion so that my hair won’t become a weakness—and with a few breaths, I step onto the mat.
The lighting down here is dim and moody, and Trysten is cast in shadows as he watches me.
“Ready?” he asks.
When he tells me to watch my side, it isn't a combat lesson—it’s a warning for the politics waiting for us upstairs.
My ring hanging on my necklace catches the dim torchlight as I turn in place, a reminder that I am training to protect the choice I made, not the crown I wear.
He circles me. The mats beneath my bare feet are cool, the air heavy with heat from the torches lining the walls.
Trysten watches me like a wolf that knows he’s the stronger predator.
“Don’t hold back this time, Princess. We never got a chance to test you with the silent attack.
I’m bummed. I was truly looking forward to it. ”
The way he says it—half challenge, half tease—sparks something sharp in my chest. I drop into stance, knees bent, shoulders loose, remembering the rhythm he’s drilled into me: breathe, move, strike.
He moves first, a blur of motion that barely registers before I duck. His fist flies past my cheek, shifting the air next to my face.
Too close.
I twist and drive my elbow toward his ribs, but he catches my arm mid-swing, spinning me with a grunt.
“Too slow,” he says.
I shove off his chest, breath coming fast, and spin on my heel. This time I don’t think—I feel. The sadness I feel for Ryker, the fear of the upcoming war and all the unknowns…Kellan’s betrayal. All of it fuels my movement, not to become a wild distraction, but to hone the power.
My palm slams into his shoulder and he staggers. I follow through with a sweep of my leg, catching the back of his knee.
He hits the mat with a thud that echoes.
A wicked grin tugs at my mouth. “Still think I’m holding back?”
Trysten laughs as he rolls to his feet. “You’re improving.”
“Improving?” I arch a brow. “That’s all I get?” Never mind that I’ve been working my butt off every day with Professor Ainslyn.
He moves again—faster. I block, my forearms screaming with the force of it. He retaliates with a strike that lands squarely against my ribs.
I stumble, gasping for air.
Trysten reaches for me, terrified he hurt me, but I use the opportunity to catch him off guard and my fist finds its mark on his chin. His head swivels, eyes widening.
Now it’s my turn to be horrified. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I—
Then he grins. “Better.”
I stand there, dumbfounded and confused as to what just happened. I barely have time to react before he sweeps my legs out from under me. The air rushes from my lungs as I hit the mat hard, the breath bursting from me in a gasp.
Trysten hovers above me, smirking. “Never drop your guard.”
I glare up at him, chest heaving. “Says the man who did exactly that.”
He grins, reaching down to help me. “Never—”
I pull him down and drive my knee up, catch him off-balance, and roll, reversing our positions. My palms press against his shoulders, pinning him. “—Underestimate me,” I finish for him.
The laugh that slips from him is rough and breathless, almost proud. “That’s more like it.”
I release him and sit back, wiping the sweat from my temple. My arms tremble, a precursor to the physical toll Elison warned us about, but for the first time, I don't feel like I'm breaking. I'm being forged.
He studies me for a long moment before saying, quieter now, “You’re finally fighting for yourself, not who you expect them to see.”
I look away, swallowing the strange warmth that pools in my chest. “Guess I have the right teachers this time.”
He sits up, arms draped over his knees. “Again?”