26. Rae
RAE
I groaned as I rolled over, though not in pain. The bed was too comfortable for that. It was like sleeping on a cloud.
That thought had me frowning and blinking the sleep out of my eyes. My bed in the cottage wasn’t this comfortable. It wasn’t awful or anything, but the mattress was lumpy in places, and I had to avoid the far-left side because a spring would jab me in the kidney.
As the bleariness of sleep cleared, I stilled. White marble everywhere.
“Not a dream,” I whispered.
Pressure built behind my eyes. I’d been so sure that the wild events of the past few days had been some weird reaction to a hallucinogen—or my brain’s poor stress tolerance. But it wasn’t.
I was here. In a completely different world. One where people thought I was a powerful witch. A witch who needed four mates.
I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
If only I could pull the covers up and refuse to deal with any of it.
My stomach rumbled. It shouldn’t have, given how much food I’d consumed last night, but as I slowly opened my eyes, I noticed the full sun streaming in through the windows at the very tops of the walls.
It wasn’t early morning, that was for sure.
Stretching, I sat up in bed and took in the tray resting on a small stool next to me. There were at least four covered dishes, a glass of orange juice, some milk, and a pink concoction I didn’t recognize. There was also a note.
My curiosity got the best of me, and I went for the paper first. Flipping it open, I scanned the harsh scrawl.
SORAYA,
MAKE SURE YOU EAT THE FRUIT. THE PINK DRINK HAS A STIMULANT SIMILAR TO CAFFEINE. WE DO NOT HAVE YOUR GUT-ROTTING SODA HERE.
-R
He didn’t need the initial for me to know who the note was from. His cantankerous self was recognizable from the grumpy words alone. I tossed it onto my bed and lifted one of the lids.
I swore I nearly started drooling. It looked like some sort of cereal-encrusted french toast.
I lifted another. An omelet and sausage. The next one had some fruit I didn’t recognize and granola over yogurt. The final one? Breakfast potatoes.
My stomach made a gurgling sound. I didn’t wait. I ate with the same fervor I had last night. It was weird. I’d always loved food, but I’d never put away quite as much as I had here.
In a matter of minutes, I’d nearly decimated the contents of the tray. Rising from the bunk, I took the pink drink, which tasted like a cross between raspberries and strawberries, and headed for the bathroom.
It was clear that the rest of the group had already started their days, but I didn’t mind having the space to myself.
It gave me time to try to wrap my head around yesterday’s events.
But as much as I tried to do so as I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I couldn’t. It was too much for my brain to handle.
Sighing, I took in the dress on the back of the bathroom door.
It was beautiful, like something out of history yet not.
Because the pale-pink fabric was embroidered with a shimmery pink thread that was unnaturally sparkly.
To the side of the door were a pair of lace-up boots in a matching pale pink with pearlescent flowers.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I muttered as I started to put on the clothes.
It took me a few tries to figure out the dress. There were ties at the front and back that weren’t exactly easy to manage on my own. But the fifth attempt got me there.
Putting the boots on in the ridiculous dress? That was comical, to say the least.
By the time I was done, I was breathing heavily and sweating a little. “Gonna need to get in better shape,” I muttered as I stepped into the bunk room. It was still empty, so I crossed to the door.
But as I reached it, I stopped. Was I ready to step outside? I wasn’t so sure about that. Maybe the under-the-covers plan was better. Eventually, someone would show up with food. Maybe I could stay here with the Fates, where it was safe, until I could convince them to send me back.
I bit the corner of my lip as shame washed over me. How cowardly could I be?
A memory flashed in my mind. Not one from my life in Lumaria, but from my life on Earth. A time during middle school when a group of girls had bullied me. My dad had taken me on a hike to talk it out.
He’d always given me space and time to work out my words, never rushing me or making me feel like he was too busy. Even now, I could see him in my mind. “Rae, sometimes the only way out is through.”
My heart panged. I could see the laugh lines around his hazel eyes and the way they’d softened in understanding as he spoke. He’d been right. By the time I got to ninth grade, the mean girls’ clique had imploded, and their infighting meant they’d forgotten all about me.
God, I missed my dad. So damn much. What I’d give to go back to that simpler time. Before thieves had decided my parents’ lives weren’t worth anything. Before I discovered that I was a magical being that everyone wanted something from. But I couldn’t return. At least, not right now.
I rolled my shoulders back and channeled Jim Greenwood. “Sometimes, the only way out is through.”
I turned the doorknob and stepped out into the perfectly temperate air. The moment I did, Pax stood from a bench in the hallway that I knew led to the gardens. He scanned me from head to toe. “Gods, it’s a little weird seeing you in the whole Luminary getup.”
Frowning, I looked down at myself and tried to figure out if I’d done something wrong.
“No, you look beautiful. It’s just…” The tips of his ears turned pink. “It’s just different, that’s all.”
“You’re telling me,” I muttered.
Pax winced. “How are you feeling?”
I gave myself a mental once-over. “I slept better than I have in years. Woke up expecting this all to have been a dream. Then ate more than I ever have before.”
One corner of his mouth kicked up. “It’s your magic. Now that it’s unbound, it’ll need fuel.”
My hand went to my stomach on instinct, suddenly regretting the food I’d put in it. I didn’t want to fuel anything magical.
“It’s natural,” Pax assured me. “You’ll figure it out with time.”
“I need… Can I go outside? To that garden I saw?” I croaked.
I needed air. Needed to breathe. The damn dress was cutting off my circulation.
He jerked his head in a swift nod and began leading the way down the hall. He didn’t hide his guard status now. His head moved as if it were on a swivel. As if he were expecting someone to jump out and…what? Assassinate me?
I choked on the laugh trying to break free, and Pax looked at me in question. I shook my head. “Nothing,” I mumbled.
In a matter of seconds, we’d reached the outdoors. If I hadn’t been on the verge of a panic attack, I would’ve appreciated the beauty of our surroundings more. Instead, I sucked in air, taking in long, ragged breaths.
Tipping my face up to the sun, I tried to focus on the feel of it. The rays baked into my skin with a comforting heat, and in a matter of minutes, my breaths slowed.
When I finally opened my eyes and took in the gardens between the two marble buildings, I saw her: the woman who was supposed to be my mother. The memory from earlier circled again. How she’d shown me what magic could be, how it worked.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as she watched me.
Imogen Morningstar. The name sounded like something vaguely familiar, not something that should be innate knowledge.
Her blond hair was braided at the crown and then hung in loose waves—not unlike mine.
But hers was more gold in color, where mine trended toward almost silver.
She pushed to her feet, her blue eyes locked on me as she crossed the space. She wore the gown like she’d been born in it. There was none of the awkwardness I had.
“Do you want me to send her away?” Pax asked quietly.
I shook my head. “No. I, uh, think I should talk to her.”
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a child stolen from you. To have no idea where she was or if she was okay. The least I could do was give her the comfort of knowing I’d been well taken care of.
Imogen approached cautiously, her gaze flicking to Pax every so often as if to check that he hadn’t moved. I started to understand it then: she was afraid of him. The knowledge made my stomach hurt, and even though he’d lied to me for the past seven years, I found myself defending him.
“He won’t hurt you.” I glanced at Pax. “He’s been watching out for me all this time, making sure I was okay.”
Imogen’s mouth tightened. “Perhaps. But he is still one of the forces responsible for keeping you from me. I should think you’d understand why I’m not ready to sing his praises.”
That was fair enough. But god, it felt like I was walking through a field of landmines.
I twisted my fingers in front of me, unsure what to say next. The truth was, I didn’t know this woman. I didn’t know any of them—except for the fragmented pieces I had from memories returning.
“Maybe we can walk in the garden?” she suggested.
I let out a breath. Activity was good. It could curb some of my awkwardness. “That would be nice.”
“I’ll be right here. In sight,” Pax assured me. But I knew that assurance was also a warning for Imogen.
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t get myself to think of her as my mother—even as tiny glimpses of memory began to return. Maybe because I’d had a mother for so many years and it hadn’t been her.
It killed me to think of all that time being robbed from the woman walking next to me, even as I couldn’t wish away my time with Dara as my mother. I’d just have to find a way to hold both.
“How are you feeling?” Imogen asked quietly.
“Okay.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth either. “I slept well. Had a good breakfast.”
She nodded, glancing at Pax. “They didn’t…try anything, did they?”
I stiffened slightly. “No. They just fed me, and I went to sleep.”
“Good.” She exhaled audibly. “That’s good.”
We were quiet for a moment as we walked, and I couldn’t help but study the different plants. They all had an otherworldly beauty with shimmering petals and leaves. Heavenly scents. My fingers grazed a pale-purple bloom.
“You were always my flower girl. Fascinated by them,” Imogen said, wistfulness making its home in her tone.
My gaze moved to her. “I had a memory last night. Of you teaching me to make a flower bloom.”
Her whole face lit with pleasure. “I’m so glad your memories are returning. You’ll need them to steer you in the path of the light.”
I frowned slightly, trying to fully understand what she meant. Obviously, it was good for my memories to return, but why would I need them? “You mean so I can use my magic?”
Imogen studied me carefully. “Yes. You’ll need that. But more, you will need to remember who you are.”
I slowed to a stop. “I know who I am. But you have to come to terms with the fact that I may not be the daughter you lost.”
She stiffened, her spine going ruler straight. “I know you’ve lived a whole life that I wasn’t there for. But you are still my daughter. You are still the future Queen of the Luminaries.”
A wave of nausea washed through me. “Please don’t put that pressure on me.”
Another memory flashed in my head.
“Again.” My mother’s voice cracked like a whip as my head swam.
I swayed on my feet. “I need a break,” I croaked.
Her lips pursed, and disapproval swept across her features. “Look at Isadora. Is she asking for breaks?”
I glanced at my older sister, who stood at her table on the grass, making a ball of glowing energy dance between her palms as a smile teased her lips. I wasn’t sure anything made her as happy as when I was reprimanded.
My muscles quivered with fatigue. “I’m sorry. I just need to rest for a moment.”
Mother sighed. “Soraya, more will be expected of you. And you need to meet the challenge.”
Her face from all those years ago faded like mist being waved away. But it was replaced by the image of her in the here and now. She hardly looked any different. It shouldn’t have been the case, but maybe magic kept her young.
Imogen took my hands. “I’m sorry, my darling. I’m not trying to put pressure on you. But you have to know that you walk a dangerous path. I worry for you.”
My stomach twisted. I guessed if my daughter were holed up with vampires, I might be a little concerned, too. “I just need some time to get my bearings. To start to remember more.”
She nodded and squeezed my hands. “I understand. But it is not too late. You can have the life you were always meant to have. We can have your fated bonds severed, and you can marry Calloway as we’ve always planned.”
I jerked backward. That was what she was concerned about?
A flicker of movement caught my eye as Rhys stepped out of the marble archway to the sanctuary.
He looked like some sort of avenging angel in black jeans, a worn gray tee, and a leather jacket.
His amber eyes were a shade darker than normal as he leveled a hard stare at Imogen. “Tell her the truth, witch.”
Imogen’s entire face transformed, and I swore she was about to bare her teeth at him. “You know nothing of the truth.”
I backed away from her, but I didn’t go to Rhys. I didn’t want to be close to either of them. My gaze snapped back and forth between them like I was watching a tennis match. “What’s the truth?”
Rhys looked at me, his amber eyes still hard. “The truth is, if you don’t bond with your fated, your powers could overload you. You could kill others and yourself. You’d be like a ticking time bomb.”