TWO
CAZ
I sit up in bed, gasping as I press a shaking hand to my chest.
I’m home. Still in Blackwater. It was only a nightmare.
A hiss escapes me when I feel the heat in my palm searing my skin. Once again, my hands have come alive with red light, veins visibly pulsing beneath my skin.
“It happened again.”
I whip my head left, spotting Willow standing on the other side of the room. She tugs a shirt over her head then eyes me.
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Where this time?”
She points across the room, and I turn my head the opposite way. In the corner, my chaise has been split apart. One half has been disintegrated while the other half remains intact; however, the ends of the remaining threads are lit with fresh embers.
“Fuck,” I curse again. I swallow and study my hands. The red glow wanes, and I let the relief settle in the pit of my stomach.
“You’ve gotta get that fire of yours under control, babe.” Willow climbs onto the bed and sidles up to my side. She wraps an arm around me, and I hold her in return.
I’ve been worried that this newfound power of mine will hurt her, but it hasn’t. While it only happens when I sleep, it seems that it purposely avoids her, as if it senses she’s a part of me and shouldn’t be harmed.
“Was it the same dream?” she asks in a soft voice.
“Yes.” I blink, trying to rid myself of the large, amber eyes. The thundering voice. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.”
She’s quiet a moment.
When she finally speaks again, I feel a tightening in my chest. “It’s been a month, Caz. How have we not heard back from Hassha about Warren yet?” Sitting up, she looks directly at me, and it’s now I notice the worry in her eyes. I feel her heartbeat quicken and her mind drift to worst-case scenarios.
“Willow, no.” I grab her hand and squeeze it. “Don’t let your mind wander to the worst. I’m sure your brother is fine.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn’t accept my words. “I know this is going to sound awful, but I think something’s wrong. I just…I have this feeling, you know? Almost like how it felt when I was on Earth and had that hunch he was still alive. Something’s going on, and we have no way of finding out.”
“I know.” I drag a palm down my face. “I’ve tried reaching out to Milandra—not only about these damn nightmares, but also Warren. There hasn’t been an answer, so I understand your worries. But this is Hassha we’re talking about. She’s probably telling her warriors to avoid our calls while she works her magic.”
“I guess.” She rests her head on my chest again, and I hug her tight. Her warm breaths skate down my chest, and I feel her heartbeat slowing to a calmer rhythm. “I don’t think I’d have my head on straight if it weren’t for you.” Her head tilts, a faint smile appearing as she gazes into my eyes.
“That so?”
“Yeah.”
“I could say the same about you, Willow Woman. I’d probably be dead in the bottom of the sea right now.”
“Don’t say that!” She giggles. I laugh, running the back of my fingers up her jawline before dropping my lips to hers.
She sighs behind it, and I can’t help groaning. I pull her in closer, as if we aren’t close enough already, and she raises her hands to cup my face. She starts to climb on my lap and I’m ready to take her on, but of course our time alone never lasts.
A loud scream fills the hollows of the castle, and it sounds like Juniper.
Willow snatches her mouth away, gasps, and freezes. Her eyes widen as she hears Juniper squeal again.
I roll out of bed, collecting my gun from the nightstand and storming out of the bedroom. I hurry down the stairs, and Willow follows closely behind.
I don’t stop until I find Juniper in the kitchen. With her is Killian and Makoto, our chef and the man who keeps Blackwater Manor in order.
“What’s going on?” I search for threats, scanning the kitchen left and right. There are none. Everyone is calm—well, everyone except for Juniper.
She bounces on her toes in the middle of the kitchen, an ivory scroll clutched in her hands.
“She won’t spit it the fuck out,” Killian grumbles over his bowl.
“Juniper? What’s going on?” Willow asks, stepping around me.
“Caz, Willow! You will not believe what I have!” Juniper squeals again, rushing my way.
“For fuck’s sake. I thought you were hurt, Juniper! I haven’t even put on proper clothes yet,” I snap, but she ignores me, opens the scroll, and shoves it into my hands.
This isn’t just any kind of scroll. It’s thick with the Vakeeli letterhead and was likely delivered by The Council’s little minions from Luxor.
I take the paper from Juniper and read the letter.
To Monarch Harlow and the Blackwater Clan,
You are cordially invited to Armistice Night beneath the celestial sky of Vanora. As always, no deaths will be tolerated. Any purposeful fatalities on the night of Armistice will result in capital punishment.
“Great,” I grumble, lowering the scroll. “Armistice Night. This is what you’re excited about?”
“Of course I’m excited!” Juniper shrills.
“Makoto,” I call, and he whips his head up.
“Yes, Monarch Harlow?”
“Can you send some tea to the grand room please?”
He bows his head. “Of course, sir.”
“I know this year is going to be incredible,” Juniper goes on, trailing closely behind me. She and Willow follow me into the grand room where the seating is practically infinite.
The walls are painted dark gray, several leather sofas accompanied by upholstered chairs scattered throughout the room. A wall of books occupies the west wall.
The wall of windows reveals a rippling black ocean. It’s early, and a few wisps of sunlight sneak through gray clouds.
“I can’t wait to dance and sing and drink every damn item they have at the bars, and—oh, goodness.” Juniper gasps, pressing a rather dramatic hand to her chest. “What am I going to wear? I don’t have a dress! I’ll need a dress. And so will you, Willow.”
“Rein it in, will you, Juniper?” I claim one of the larger sofas. “You don’t even know if Willow wants to go.”
“Of course I want to go,” Willow exclaims. “Alora told me all about Armistice Night. It only happens every couple of years, right?”
“Yes, a time when we must surround ourselves with all our enemies and choke down all the hate for one night,” I grumble. “It’s ridiculous. You can’t erase hatred that easily.”
“I agree.” Killian’s voice rises from a distance. He enters the room, standing beneath one of the overhead lights with his arms crossed. “It’d be dangerous for us to go, especially after the Rami situation. His son is still dodging us.”
“Oh, stop it!” Juniper chides. “Just bring a fleet for backup, and we’ll be fine. It’ll be fun to party and hang out. After all the shit we’ve been through, we deserve to let loose for once.”
Can’t deny that. We have been going through some insane shit lately.
Mournwrath.
Cold Tethers.
Regals.
“Do you not remember what happened the last time you let loose?” Killian asks, eyes fixed on his sister. “You nearly got yourself killed in Iron Class because of that bloody temper of yours.”
“You’re one to talk about a temper,” Juniper retorts.
“Who’s going to a party?” Rowan pops into the room as well, snagging a spot on one of the sofas. Makoto trails in behind him, placing a tray of tea on the center table.
“It’s not just any party,” Juniper informs him, plopping down beside her brother like she has some big secret. “Look!” She shoves the paper in front of Rowan’s face, and he sighs, snatching it from her to hold it at a reasonable distance.
As he reads it, I pour myself and Willow a cup of tea.
“Nice. Are we going?” Rowan asks, swinging his gaze to me. Everyone in the room has their eyes on me now, awaiting an answer.
Love of Vakeeli.
Sometimes I forget I’m the one in charge of them.
“If Willow wants to go, I suppose we are,” I say as she claims the spot next to me.
“It’s not a party without the Blackwater Clan.” Rowan grins, rubbing his hands together. “Oi, I have the perfect suit for the night.”
“You really think it’s wise taking Willow there for everyone in Vakeeli to see?” Killian asks, pointing his attention to my mate. “Not to ruin it for you, Willow, but I worry about your and Caz’s safety. I know I may seem like the party dragger here, but we have to remain realistic. There are still enemies out there, and many of them will be attending Armistice Night.”
“I’m not comfortable with the idea, if I’m speaking honestly,” I admit, and Willow turns her disappointed gaze to me. “But it’ll be her first of this lifetime, and she deserves to go.” Her smile appears again, along with a flutter in both our chests. “As Juniper said, we’ll bring a fleet. I’m sure all other territories will be doing the same.”
Killian sighs, head shaking.
He knows there is no arguing.
“We’ll need dresses right away.” Juniper leaves Rowan’s side to sit next to Willow. “I think the best place to get one is in Vanora. The dressmakers are remarkable.”
“The Blackwater tailors are good too,” I counter.
“Sure they are, but Vanora has better resources when it comes to the quality of the dresses,” Juniper says. “Their silk and tulle are the most sought after, and with all the people in Gold Class in their fancy clothes attending their fancy parties, the Vanora tailors are much more efficient. Trust me, if you want Willow to look like a goddess, we have to go there.”
“When is it anyway?” Killian grumbles, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.
“Six days from now,” Juniper answers.
“That’s very soon.” Willow shifts next to me.
“They do it on purpose.” Rowan picks up a paperweight and tosses it in the air, playing catch with it. “Keeps everyone focused on the preparations instead of their desire to kill each other.”
Frankly, it works.
“Come on, Willow! Let me show you a few designs in the books I have in my bedchamber and see what you like.” Juniper is already halfway out of the room with Willow’s wrist clasped in her hand.
“Jun, we were having tea!” I shout, but of course my cousin ignores me, rushing around a corner just as Willow passes me an innocent look.
See you in our room after? We can finish what we started.
Our room. I can’t stop myself from smiling. I’ll never get tired of hearing her call it that.
“Are you smiling?” Rowan asks, leaning forward to get a closer look at me.
“Fuck off,” I mutter, burying my smile in the teacup.
“He is! Look, Kill, this fucker is smiling. Love of Vakeeli, he looks weird when he does that, doesn’t he?”
Killian takes the seat across from me. “I think he’s pussy-whipped.”
I point a finger at him. “Shut up.”
“He is pussy-whipped,” Rowan chuckles.
“But seriously, Armistice Night is a big deal, Caz. Sure, we can gather a fleet, but we won’t be able to take our eyes off her or each other for a second,” Killian forewarns.
“I’m aware. Look, we attend Armistice to let Willow and Juniper have a good time. Women love events like this, so we’ll just have to suck it up and go. We let Willow experience the dance, have a drink or two, and then we return to Blackwater. You have to remember, Kill, that Armistice Night is also a way to assert power. If I don’t show up, the other territories will assume I’m vulnerable and, like you said, Devlin is purposely dodging our contacts. He’ll most likely be there too, but for now, keep an eye on him and the Rippies. Make sure they’re not up to something. I don’t want any funny shit happening before or while we’re there.”
“I’m on it.” Killian rises, lumbering out of the room with his transmitter in hand.
When he’s gone, Rowan clears his throat and says, “I know we’re to keep an eye on each other, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fuck a lady or two while we’re there, does it?”
“Vakeeli’s sake, Rowan.” I stand and polish off my tea. “I don’t care what you do. I just hope none of them decide to chop your bloody dick off when they realize there isn’t a woman there you haven’t slept with. Who knows what kind of disease you’re carrying.”
“Hey, my dick is clean!” he shouts as I leave the room. “Don’t you put that on me. It’s not my fault they love me.”
I can’t help laughing on my way up the stairs.