58
Aspen
Lyrik got one free pass for saving Nicu’s life. I’d be forever thankful for that. But if it weren’t for his injury, I would have knocked this rogue upside the fucking head.
Not because this decision wasn’t the right one for our impending war. No, it was because he made this choice behind Nicu’s back.
They weren’t lovers. Lyrik wasn’t bonded to my friend.
But Nicu had gotten attached. And yes, he should have been here to get an explanation up front instead of later.
Lyrik’s wound acted up, his pained hiss cutting short the discussion. The bloke’s complexion paled, and a sweat broke out across his forehead.
Half of the clan disbanded to their cabins, while Avalea, Poet, and Briar requested that Aire stay behind for a private conference. I peeked at the knight, his pupils brimming with heat, setting fire to my skin.
By the time Lyrik and I left, the rest of our fellowship had disbanded through the enclave. The stubborn rogue grunted in protest when I offered my arm. He strode forward, about to dodge my impending cross-examination when a lithe figure sprinted from a winding stairway.
“Lyrik!” Nicu exclaimed. “Aspen!”
The squatter faltered as Nicu bounded toward us.
Regardless of his ashen pallor, those mercurial eyes kindled, his gaze magnetizing to my friend like the only source of light on this continent.
And while Lyrik concealed that reaction fast, a terse frown pulling over his features like a mask, I’d seen enough.
The squatter didn’t move. To cover up his indecision, I rushed ahead and snared Nicu into the biggest, tightest, longest hug. Notes of cedarwood wafted from his hair as he squeezed me back.
Despite his injuries, only a strip of cloth dressed his cheek. Relieved, I inched away to check him further. “Doing okay?”
“I’m always okay. Everybody else is foolish,” he quipped.
“You are the truest person I know,” I choked out. “Thank you for your friendship.”
“Aspen, it’s not a present to be thankful for. It’s a ribbon.”
A ribbon. An unconditional bond.
Nicu’s eyes strayed over my shoulder. His irises sparkled like jade, and his voice tenderized, softening like gossamer. “Lyrik.”
“Songbird,” the rogue greeted, slouching against the nearest railing to compensate for his wound.
Helpless, I watched as Nicu rushed over to him, a chasm in the treetops blasting their profiles with starlight. Like an interloper, I stashed myself beside a vista point. I had no business here, but since I could bet how this interaction would pan out, I wouldn’t leave my friend.
Nicu noticed the bandage under Lyrik’s coat and traced the blood specks with his fingers. Above his bent head, the alchemist closed his eyes at the touch.
“The stream dried,” Nicu whispered.
“Yeah. The gash stopped bleeding,” Lyrik uttered through a gruff voice.
The Royal Son lifted his gaze to the rogue. Green eyes shimmered, while a set of darker eyes hooded.
“Thank you,” Nicu breathed. “Thank you, I—”
“No worries,” Lyrik drawled, attempting to be funny. “Donating blood at the point of someone’s blade is what a person does for their friend.”
His reply broke the spell, stumping Nicu. “Friend?”
Lyrik’s throat bobbed. “Friend.”
I gripped the ledge, staying in case Nicu needed me. Meanwhile, Lyrik unscrewed a spike from his earring. Taking Nicu’s hand and overturning his wrist, the man dropped the little stub in the cup of Nicu’s palm.
My friend stared at the trinket. “Winter platinum.”
“People say this element is linked to the stars,” the rogue murmured. “Figured it might help you find yours. That is, if you’re still hunting.”
“It’s bright,” Nicu complimented while stroking the keepsake. “I’ll protect it. And I’m grateful—”
“Don’t.” The word jumped out of Lyrik’s mouth like an accident—impulsive, destructive, and painful. “Don’t be grateful to me.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he framed my friend’s jaw and leaned down, his lips grazing the crown of Nicu’s scalp. For a stunning moment, the man lingered, delaying the separation. Then as the rogue finally peeled himself away, Nicu gawked through bulging eyes.
Lyrik’s mouth quirked, the gesture wistful for once in his snide life. “You’ll definitely wear it better.”
He might have meant the spike. Though, it sounded as if he referred to a different object.
The rogue stalled on a precipice, as if he might take a nosedive off the edge. Instead, he clamped his mouth shut, broke from the stance, and sauntered past Nicu.
But his pace slowed to the tune of the Royal’s hopeful call. “You’re coming with us?”
To the castle. A place where they would see each other again.
Because that was also what friends did.
Lyrik paused. Not looking back, he answered through a barely audible timbre, “That would be nice.”
An observation. But not an answer.
Out of nowhere, he kept going. While striking across the nearest bridge, the tail of his coat lashed the planks like a viper.
Nicu’s chin crinkled. His pupils welled, and his frown disintegrated into something tremulous. For a while, he waited for the rogue to spin around, to return to him. When that didn’t happen, the tether snapped like a ribbon.
Still holding the earring spike, Nicu swayed backward. Mumbling an indecipherable excuse, he tossed me a wobbly smile that twisted my gut into knots, then he followed the lanterns to his cabin.
I moved to go after him, but stopped myself. If he’d needed comfort, Nicu would have stayed. Rather, my friend only wished to be alone.
Giving him space, I jogged after Lyrik, tracking his ass down the walkway.
“Not so fast, dickhead,” I spat. “You just can’t leave him like that.”
Lyrik maintained an even stride, the messy tips of his hair brushing his collar. “He’s got the will of a ruler. He’ll outlive me.”
“You can’t just kiss him and walk away.”
“Trust me, that wasn’t a fucking kiss.”
“Lyrik, don’t leave like this. You’ll regret it.”
“Guess that’ll be the first time I’ve ever regretted something.”
I went feral. “But you love him!”
The cavernous words bounced off the cathedral of trees. A parliament of owls scattered into the canopy.
Like an axe hitting wood, Lyrik halted. Every muscle under those bedraggled clothes went stock still, his shoulders tensing, heat radiating from him in waves.
In a flash, he spun and stalked my way. No swagger in sight. No bullshit veneer. Just pure, unadulterated malice.
Fair enough since I had plenty of glare in me too.
Getting in my face, Lyrik hissed, “Say that to me again, and the next time you take a swig of water, I’ll make sure it burns off your fucking tongue.”
Big words for a big mouth. Except beneath the surface, torment lingered like a second layer of skin, as if more than a flesh-and-blood gash had been torn from him. Even now, this man hid secrets, motives he wouldn’t voice. As much as I hated to admit it, I’d be a hypocrite to judge that.
As for his heart, let him deny it. I knew a lie when I heard one.
I whispered, “You’re a fool.”
“I’m worse than that.” Instead of mockery, Lyrik stated this like a fact. “Bad guys make the story interesting. They raise the stakes.” He glanced sideways, his gaze turning remote. “But we never change. It’s in our blood.”
I blinked, suddenly more confused than wrathful. He hadn’t left Nicu empty-handed, wasn’t abandoning him out of cruelty. If anything, my friend’s future benefited from Lyrik’s relocation to Winter.
Yet Nicu wouldn’t come out of this separation unscathed, and there was more to this rogue’s uncharacteristic surrender, a sacrificial implication that dragged down his bulk.
For all his ambiguity, I had assumed Lyrik could justify his fate to Nicu. But maybe that choice was off the table. For some of us, clean breaks weren’t an option, and prolonging the hurt made it worse.
Before I could decide if I underestimated Lyrik, he charged down the walkway, vanishing into the mist like an illusion. Someone who had never really existed.
***
Jeryn and Flare’s mussed appearance said plenty. After what appeared to be a long night of aggressive fucking, in which they must have attacked one another for hours, the pair left the next morning.
Throughout the day, Nicu cast anxious gazes across every treehouse and platform. In particular, his eyes kept returning to the water well where the devil himself originally set a knife to Nicu’s pulse.
Lyrik must have discreetly hitched a ride to Winter at the enclave’s border, opting to leave without making a scene.
From one troublemaker to another—and as someone who also lost my heart to a good person—Lyrik took off in secret to ease the blow.
Saying goodbye would have hurt Nicu. And while that rogue had no qualms about fucking over anyone else, this didn’t apply to the Royal Son.
While chopping a pile of wood, I stalled. Across the distance, Nicu hovered outside the alchemy chamber, surveying the vacant space, his pupils jumping everywhere in confusion. His throat constricted, and those eyes glazed, lost in sadness.
He would ask himself what he’d done wrong. He would replay every moment, wondering if he could have said or done something differently, questioning if he could have changed the outcome.
At some point, all of us lived through this pain. But I wished to hell he never had.
Having learned the art of concealment from his parents, Nicu swallowed the turmoil, masking it well to anyone who hadn’t been here to see the evolution of his bond with Lyrik.
Catching his attention, I offered a small smile. Someday, it would get easier. I did my utmost to communicate that.
His lips twitched in a faint grin, then he turned from the cabin and sought refuge in chores. If he needed me, I would be there. Always.
My attention strayed from the heartrending sight to an uplifting one. Beneath an oak tree, Princess Briar spoke in hushed tones with Queen Avalea. As they shared a gentle laugh, Her Majesty set a loving palm on her daughter’s hand.