30. Rae
RAE
Kian slid off Shadow, taking me with him. In an instant, Pax and Rhys were at our side. They formed a sort of cocoon around us as people hurled accusations and insults.
“You sure this was such a good idea?” Kian asked through gritted teeth.
“It’s only a night or two,” Rhys clipped. “And I can’t run from my people.”
Kian’s lip curled. “You might want to control them.”
Rhys’s amber eyes bled to pure gold. “You will not order me around. Not in my kingdom. Not ever.”
Pax moved between them. “We need our eyes on the prize at the moment, gents.”
Always the voice of reason.
Rhys jerked his head in a swift nod. His gaze moved to me for a single second, not even enough time for me to inhale, yet the world stood still in that moment. Pain and anger swirled in Rhys’s eyes. And something else—something that looked a lot like longing.
Before I could fully register it, he had torn his gaze away again. Without it, I felt empty. Hollow. What the hell was wrong with me?
Rhys scanned the crowd, his anger building. Then, one of those chest growls began to rise from him. This one was different from the few others I’d heard. This one was like a building wave. It started small—no larger than a tiny ripple on the glassy surface of a body of water.
But that wasn’t where it stayed. It gathered size, speed, and strength. The vibrations were a living, breathing thing, sweeping through the air.
It had my skin buzzing. Not in pleasure or pain, but in awe of the power behind it. Others didn’t have the same reaction. One by one, people dropped to their knees, their heads bowed, the wave taking them out.
The warriors stayed up the longest, which told me it was some test of strength. But finally, they bowed, too. Ayden’s legs trembled, and a snarl tore from his throat. But then he, too, fell. Pax was the last to go, but he wasn’t exactly fighting the stance.
The only ones left standing were Rhys, Kian, and me. Something about that had a different sort of buzz cascading through me.
Rhys’s growl cut off in a snap, but the people around us still couldn’t seem to rise. “In my absence, you seem to have forgotten respect. I never use my power unless it is warranted. I do not abuse those who are weaker than me. I do not order shows of deference for shits and giggles.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “But if you think I will tolerate disrespect regarding what the gods have destined, disrespect of my fated, you are sorely mistaken. If any of you make a move against her, I will end you before you can blink. Do. You. Understand?”
No one said a word.
When Rhys’s voice came again, it was a furious bellow. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
The kneeling Nocturnae issued words of assent. Most were begrudging. Some seemed a little embarrassed. Still others were bitter.
“Have I not given enough for you?” Rhys demanded, his voice going quiet. “Have I not bled and nearly died for you? Have I not met every demon attack at the front lines? Is that still not enough for you? This is not what I would’ve chosen for myself. But it is my duty. And I will fulfill it.”
My gaze dipped to my boots, and I tried to focus on the design the ash had made on them. Maybe the shame swirling inside me wouldn’t be so hard to bear. Rhys hated what I was—things I would never be able to change about myself. His people would hate me the same.
I’d have ripped him a new one if I didn’t know what the hatred stemmed from. His sister and father had been struck down. Stolen from him and their people. How the hell did you overcome that? I wasn’t sure it was possible.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, and then a chant began as people started to rise. It was the same phrase Kian had told me meant long live the King. They chanted it over and over, some pounding their fists against their chests.
Rhys had brought them around. While he’d give me barely two words, I saw he’d give his people everything. I couldn’t deny my jealousy at that, but I’d have to learn to live with it.
He raised his hands into the air to quiet everyone. “Thank you. Now, if someone could get our mounts, we could use some rest and a shower.”
Cheers rose as a couple of girls and boys in their teens raced forward to take our horses. Kian eyed the ruby-haired girl who approached Shadow suspiciously. “On your honor, you will care for him?”
She looked a little nervous but nodded. “Aye, sir. I may not be fond of Starlights, but horses of any kind are the most majestic of creatures. I will care for him as if he was my own.”
Kian let out a soft chuckle and pulled a gold coin from his pocket, tossing it to the girl.
Her eyes went wide. “Thank you, sir.”
A woman in billowing skirts and a deep-maroon apron broke through the crowd. While she was the same age that they all seemed to max out at, there was an air about her that said she was much older. She kissed each of Rhys’s cheeks as if she were a grandmother.
“My boy has returned. We’re preparing your chambers. I’ve missed you so.”
Rhys gave the woman a gentle smile. It was the most softness I’d seen from the man yet. That hurt, too. “And I, you, Lenore,” he said with warmth. “Thank you. Please place Soraya between my rooms and Kian’s. Pax is good across from us.”
The woman nodded, her gaze cutting to me. It wasn’t angry, more curious with a healthy dose of uncertainty. “I’ll get right on that. And I’ll get your fated appropriate attire for this evening. They’ll want to hold a feast to celebrate your return.”
Any warmth on Rhys’s face fled, but he lifted his chin in assent. “Let’s go.”
He only made it two steps before another woman appeared.
She wore a different sort of gown altogether, the corseted top tied with shimmering black laces.
It cinched her waist to the size of my pinky and thrust her ample cleavage sky-high.
The deep-maroon skirt of her gown was long, but each side had slits that reached her mid-thigh.
She had inky-black hair that fell in loose waves, and her makeup was done to perfection.
It was almost a ridiculous image. Like what you would expect a vampire vixen to look like.
Ivory skin. Bloodred lips. Cat-eye makeup I could never manage for myself because, no matter how many times I tried, mine always came out ridiculously uneven.
“Rhys,” the woman breathed.
The way she said his name made it instantly clear exactly how well the two knew each other. It was far more than acquaintances or even good friends. They knew each other carnally.
Nausea ripped through me as she rested a hand on his chest.
“I’ve missed you, my King,” she said softly.
“Zenia,” he clipped. He kissed her cheek but then stepped back, her hand losing contact with his chest.
She frowned at the loss of the connection. “Are you hungry?” Her hazel eyes flashed with the question, and I could only assume that it held a double meaning.
A muscle fluttered in Rhys’s cheek. “Whether or not I am is none of your concern.”
Zenia let the hurt show on her face, and somehow, I knew it was a choice—not emotion breaking free but a chosen tactic. “It used to be my concern,” she murmured.
“Things change.” Rhys glanced in my direction. “Let’s go. You’ll be needing rest.”
Gold burned out the green in Zenia’s irises as she glared at me. “Yes, by all means, rest your pet. This will all be a lot for her.”
I heard the undertone and subtext. She was waiting for me to fall apart. To crumble.
Well, I’d already done that once today. I was done. And if there was one thing I knew for certain…
It was that in the House of Firelight, I couldn’t afford even a glimmer of weakness.