25. Rae
RAE
I stared at my toes above the bubbles. I’d painted them a pale purple, thinking about the emerging spring. I wanted to laugh at that now. There’d be no spring here. At least, not the one I yearned for.
If the Luminaries controlled a constant state of light and dark, were there even seasons? The cyclical nature of life on Earth was always something I loved. Going without things you loved for a time meant you appreciated them all the more.
Now, everything might just stay the same. And even if that same was beautiful, you’d never appreciate it the way you should.
I let out a long sigh, submerging myself in the water. It was the perfect temperature and hadn’t cooled at all. There must’ve been something magical about the tub. Or maybe the water itself.
That thought had me breaking the surface, ready to get out. What if it had already changed me?
A soft knock sounded.
I covered myself, even though the bubbles would’ve done the job.
“Rae. It’s Lyra.”
“I won’t let her in if you don’t want,” Kian called, holding to his promise.
“I’m just going to open the door to hang a dressing gown and robe on the hook,” Lyra said, her exasperation clear.
“That’s fine,” I called.
The door slid open a fraction, and a hand moved to hang a white nightgown and a robe on the silver hook just inside. Then, it shut again. I could hear muffled voices beyond it. Normally, my curiosity would’ve gotten the best of me, and I would’ve tried to listen in on what they were saying.
Tonight, I didn’t have it in me. I didn’t want to know if they were plotting my murder or some godlike ascension. Either would be too much.
A memory flashed in my mind.
“Feel the light, Soraya. Let it feed you and your magic,” my mother said softly as we sat on the grass in the middle of the garden.
I held my hands palms up to feel the heat of the sun. My skin prickled as a phantom energy spread over my arms. It tickled. A smile teased my lips.
My mother nodded encouragingly. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Now, help the flower grow.”
I stared at the garden bed in front of us and the flowers I couldn’t name planted there. The buds had surfaced but not the blooms.
I cupped my hands around the buds. I didn’t touch them, just surrounded them. Breathing deeply, I focused on the creation in front of me.
A swirling buzz of magic surged inside me.
It was heady, like the sensation could pull me under.
The vibrations in my hands intensified, and the buds began to crack open.
The green peeled back to reveal pale-pink petals that glimmered in the light.
In a matter of seconds, each bud had burst into bloom.
My mother clapped with giddy excitement. “Incredible.” She touched her forehead to mine in a gesture of affection. “You are truly meant to be our Queen.”
I blinked a few times, clearing away the tendril of memory. Lyra had warned me that it would be like this, that the memories would come back in fits and starts. Apparently, because my magic was so strong, the binding spell that had held it and my memories captive had been vicious.
But Lyra hadn’t warned me how it would feel to have those memories return. I studied my palms as if they held the answers. A longing had taken root in my chest—a deep need to feel that buzz of magic again. Yet it seemed almost…wrong.
I hadn’t given the flower a chance to come into its own. I’d forced it.
Shaking off the warring feelings, I pulled the plug on the tub. I could only put off what waited for me in the other room for so long.
I climbed from the bath and reached for one of the stacked towels. As I wrapped it around myself, I reveled in the softness. I’d never felt a towel this gentle or comforting. I brushed the cotton against my cheek, wondering if all things in Lumaria were like this—the height of luxury.
Wandering around the space, I found various beauty products, along with a toothbrush. I did my best to pull myself together, but I didn’t have it in me to blow-dry my hair.
I slipped on the nightgown. It, too, had been made from the softest material. The robe was thick, woven from a fabric I couldn’t name but was incredibly warm and comforting. Finally, I stood at the door, my hand resting on the handle.
I stared at the wood as if it held my way out, if only I could see beneath its surface to the secrets below. It was a mindfuck, knowing that it was I who held the secrets, ones locked in the recesses of my memory or in my body itself. I held the answers. Yet I couldn’t access them.
Taking a deep breath, I twisted the knob.
The moment the door opened, Kian shoved off the wall next to it. His gaze roamed over me, and he frowned.
“What?” I asked, my eyes darting around the room, taking in Pax and a stone-faced Rhys on the far bunks.
Kian’s frown only deepened. “Your hair’s wet.”
I shrugged. “It’ll dry eventually.” It might take some time, given that it was thick and heavy, but I didn’t care if I looked like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket tomorrow morning.
He took a step forward, lifting his hands. “May I?”
My muscles tensed. “May you what?”
“Dry your hair,” Kian explained.
It was my turn to frown. “With what?”
Kian’s nostrils flared as he inhaled, his fingers flexing. The air around me started to move.
“What—?” My words cut off as the air picked up speed. It targeted the strands of my hair, warm but not hot, weaving through them. The pressure felt like the most delectable scalp massage.
A minute later, the magical wind stopped, and my hair fell around me in loose waves—the kind only ever achieved the two times a year I got my hair cut.
I gaped at Kian. “I’m sorry. You’re part vampire and part hairstylist?”
He chuckled low and throaty. “Come on, Butterfly. Let’s get you something to eat.”
His hand found the middle of my back, guiding me toward a lower bunk and a tray laden with food and drinks. As I got closer, my brows pulled together. Mac and cheese. French fries. A bubbly drink. A milkshake. Garlic bread. And veggies and hummus.
I glanced at Rhys, who watched me impassively. “You brought this for me?”
His chin lifted in the barest assent.
“But…they’re my favorites,” I muttered.
Rhys gritted his teeth. “Pax has kept me informed.”
My gaze flicked to Pax, who sent me a chagrined smile. “At least you get what you like.”
“I added the vegetables and hummus. You can’t exist on carbs and cheese alone,” Rhys grumbled.
I lowered myself to the bunk and plucked up a fry. “Alive and kickin’ at twenty-three.”
He scowled. “For now.”
Kian chuckled, taking a fry and studying it. After a moment, he popped it into his mouth. Two chews later, he was grimacing. “How you lot exist on this stuff is beyond me.”
Because he existed on blood.
That knowledge had my empty stomach pitching.
“Eat,” Rhys commanded. “I won’t have you passing out on us.”
“Bossy,” I muttered, but ate the french fry. It was incredible. I grabbed for another, dipping it into the chocolate milkshake.
I moaned as the salty-sweet flavors played over my tongue. I’d never tasted anything this good. I dove into the food, absolutely ravenous. Only once my stomach started to protest did I look up.
And it was to find three sets of eyes fixed on me.
Kian’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Butterfly, I could watch you eat for eternity.”
My cheeks heated. Maybe I’d gone a little overboard.
“You will not go that long without sustenance again,” Rhys clipped.
Pax just shook his head.
Kian lifted the tray and placed it on a table along the far wall. “You don’t have to be such a grumpy bastard.”
Rhys’s lip curled. “You’re on thin ice, sympathizer.”
Kian stiffened, his hands fisting, but Pax let out a whistle. “Before you two kick the shit out of each other, maybe we can come up with a plan. I feel like that might be more important.”
The food I’d just consumed suddenly felt heavy in my stomach. A plan. For me.
Kian crossed to my bunk and lowered himself to it. He didn’t touch me, but even the closeness had an effect on me: the scent of juniper and mountain air, the feel of the heat coming off him in waves…
“We’re going to have to find her two other mates.” There was a heaviness to his words, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Rhys’s jaw worked back and forth. “We’ll have to go House to House.”
Kian’s knuckles bleached white as he gripped the edge of the bunk. “We’ll need guards.”
Rhys was already shaking his head. “The more people in Soraya’s orbit, the more opportunity for betrayal. Pax is the only one I trust with her.”
“Rae.” The correction spilled out of my mouth automatically.
Rhys’s gaze cut to me as if he’d forgotten I was even there. “I’m sorry?”
“My name is Rae. That’s what everyone who knows me calls me. I don’t like Soraya.”
He stared at me for a long minute. “Do you honestly think that’s important at the moment? I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“Rhys,” Pax censured softly.
Kian laid his hand over mine, squeezing gently. “Call her what she wants to be called, or I’ll start calling you by your true name.”
The confusion on Rhys’s face deepened. “What the hades are you talking about?”
“I’ll start calling you Pompous Ass.” Kian grinned. “It does have a certain ring to it.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. And god, it felt good. That release of pressure and tension.
“Both of you are going to get her killed,” Rhys snarled. “None of that is important.”
My laughter died. “Why? Why will someone want to kill me?”
Rhys met my stare and didn’t look away. “Some will merely want your magic now that they know how powerful you are. Others? They’ll want to slice your throat merely for who you are.”