Chapter 3
Lenna
In this place, and with these people, nights were not for sleeping. Not that her turbulent, now forevermore screaming mind would shut the fuck up for a minute to give her a damned break, anyway.
Her private room in the navia had never felt bigger. Lenna’s shaking hand caressed the cool mattress. It was the same mattress where she used to sleep, cuddle, and make love to the man who owned her heart. The man who wouldn’t even look at her now. The man who could no longer love.
He can’t love. He can’t love. He can’t love anymore.
Her hand gripped the mattress as she let out a low growl. The volume of her voice was not relevant. The soundproof barriers she had Given this space had kept the others away from her. This was the place for her to feel. The place for her to hate. The place for her to regret.
She didn’t need others to worry. She didn’t need others to care.
Worrying or caring didn’t change shit. Sasha had offered her help, had offered her shoulder to cry on.
Perhaps next time she would call her. Perhaps next time she would share her pain with somebody else.
It was hard to care about others when she reached the bottom of her well.
Her vision was blurry again, and she wished the self-inflicted pain of her nails digging in the hard mattress like they were claws helped. It didn’t.
Jake. Jake. Jake. Jake.
The permanent mourning in her thoughts was as rough as the physical suffering. The sharp pain in her heart was raw, as if a crystal blade was perpetually ripping her most sacred organ apart.
The chances of Lenna not becoming a bloody maniac with the rage and devastation running through her furious, grieving blood were slim. As slim as the minuscule opening under the metallic black door, where a thin trail of shadows was summoning her outside.
It didn’t matter if it was late or it was early, not that she had any clue or fuck left to give. When Ciaran summoned, one attended.
Lenna headed to the ensuite, opening her hand and filling the room with golden sparks, the color of her eyes and her magic. She buried her face under the icy running water, and when she lifted her head, her lip curled upwards. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror staring back at her.
Her fire-red waves were longer than ever, practically reaching her waist. She looked shell-shocked, as if she were waiting for a wave to take her out of this world. That woman was a lost woman. Someone who had already given up.
“You’re so fucked, girl.” The lips of the woman in the mirror moved as she muttered the words.
A handful of new trails of onyx shadows entered the ensuite, urging her upstairs. Impatient courtrade.
Staring at her irritated golden eyes, she closed her mouth to keep her bottom lip from trembling. She pressed her teeth together to prevent more tears from escaping. Three deep breaths is what she allowed herself before moving.
Breathe in, invoking some will to live and thrive. Breathe out, letting go of the need to rip wings apart, to murder love-forbidding goddesses.
Breathe in, remembering there were still good things in this world. Breathe out, unable to visualize anything other than the silver eyes she missed so dearly.
Breathe in, trying to cover her pain with a mask of indifference and sass. Breathe out, smiling like the fucking psycho she was doomed to become.
This relaxed breathing, meditating bullshit was useless.
Lenna inhaled profoundly, a shaking finger drying the single tear that had managed to escape. She got the shattered pieces of her shit together and left her room.
Ciaran’s shadows guided her to a wide chamber underneath the open platforms atop the navia.
When Lenna crossed the doorway, Hope stared directly at her, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized her expression.
Lenna met her black eyes with a silent, minuscule nod and pursed her lips, ensuring none of her inner feelings could transpire.
It wasn’t an easy feat. Not when the owner of the silver eyes that invaded her mind was in the farthest corner of the room, staring blankly at the floor.
Jake’s arms were crossed, so tense that every one of his muscles marked against the tight, white shirt he wore. Lenna knew him better than to think he was not paying attention to every single thing happening around him.
Ayla and Nina stood side by side, their fingers interlaced.
Nina’s long, white waves fell over her peach, floaty dress, her ocean-blue eyes blinking more than usual as her pale, worried face turned to scan the room.
Ayla stood stoically, the redness of her smooth hair permanent proof of their birth connection as twins.
Her eyes were open, and the sight of them sent shivers down Lenna’s spine.
Where emerald-green irises stood before, bright metal silver now shone.
Would Lenna ever become used to what would forever be under her twin’s eyelids, personal kindness of the Giving Cardinal?
That was the price Ayla had decided to pay for her Fifth Power.
As far as Lenna knew, Ayla hadn’t yet used the power.
Even if Ayla wanted to, she would never be able to use her sight.
It was sweet that the only thing Ayla had begged the Cardinal for was a last opportunity to look at the snow-haired, blue-eyed woman she now held.
It wasn’t anything but royally cruel that she wouldn’t be able to appreciate—to even notice—the way Nina stared at her, drinking her in with an array of mixed feelings.
From the moment Lenna met her, Nina had always been the cheerful, most jovial one of the group. The most innocent yet vulnerable soul of them all.
The only reason Lenna would ever be remotely glad that Ayla couldn’t see was because she couldn’t realize Nina hadn’t smiled at all. Not since the moment Ayla was mutilated by a deity, right after the last time Nina saw her brother Raoul.
Raoul, who once was snow-haired as his sister, until his hair was black-inked nightmare after nightmare, a product of a fucked-up Queen who somehow penetrated his mind and invaded his dreams. When the six of them had returned to where Raoul had last been, he wasn’t there anymore.
Raoul had disappeared from the island of Orizane, and Ayla knew he was dead.
It had all been too mind-fucking-blowing to even ask her twin how she knew.
From his corner, Jake coughed, and Lenna tensed, straightening her back as if she had just been punched in the stomach.
“Lenna,” Ciaran greeted her.
She winked without smiling. “Commander.” Her voice was hoarse from crying and the variety of guttural sounds she had been performing in the privacy of her room.
“We have bad news,” he continued.
“Don’t we always nowadays?” Sasha snorted.
Ciaran cleared his throat, a finger playing with the ring on his bottom lip. “Not as bad as this.”
Lenna inhaled sharply. If it weren’t for the intimidating presence of the man in the corner and the undeniable feeling of being observed and under indirect attention, she would have made some snarky retort.
Perhaps a “who has fucked up now,” a “for Fifth’s damned sake, it surely can be that bad,” or—
Fuck her self-control.
She had lost too many things in the past couple of days to lose her bloody personality as well. Lenna scoffed before spitting, “Let’s line up before we’re fucked again, then.”
Hope crossed her arms, staring at every being in the room. Were she and Ciaran aware of how alike they looked, dressed in black leathers and determination, power and magic? They were one and the same. A devastating combination that didn’t look afraid to take on the world.
“Llunal whispered, and his whispers don’t lie,” Ciaran said, before calmly bowing his head to Hope.
“My throne in Thyria has been usurped,” Hope said between clenched teeth.
“The black Cardinal Queen, eldest sister of the five red Cardinals, was released from the quarter of a millennium curse her sisters had restrained her with. After we killed Rhei Coralt, she took advantage of the absence of the Organ Mandor protecting the Cardinals Temple and the Core and seized the throne and control of the entire island of Thyria.”
The blood in Lenna’s veins froze, her lungs feeling way too small to take oxygenated breaths. She ran towards the window facing the Radel Sea and saw the island of Thyria, closer than ever, on the horizon.
The sun was rising above the line cutting the water and the sky. It brought the unwanted light that would slow down the shadow magic of the courtrades. But it didn’t bring only that.
Breathtaking fear overrode Lenna’s senses, her mind dizzy as when her inner scale unbalanced. The others joined her by the window, everyone quiet as they tried to decipher what the black, moving mass floating over Thyria was.
The closer the army of courtrades pushed them to the shore of the East Petal, now distinguishable as it grew closer by the second, the clearer the vision was, the stronger the panic sank into Lenna’s body.
It wasn’t a mass floating over the land. It was thousands of black, winged creatures, hovering, waiting for meat to be served the way a scavenger circled its next meal. Except, by the way the creatures were closing in towards the navias, they were approaching them because they were the meal.
Hope’s voice broke the silence. “You aren’t the only one with an army, Ciaran.”
No, he wasn’t.
The Cardinal Queen had sent her own.