18. Raven #3
More partial truths. After leaving the infirmary, Valen and I had adjourned to a small, quiet, rather messy room.
His office, I had presumed. Books and folders lay scattered, as if he had torn through shelves and drawers looking for something and then left everything untidied.
He partially organized the mess while we discussed our reaper roots and the assignments that had brought us each to the Citadel of Veritas.
I recalled sitting across the desk from him in that small, cluttered room, staring at the slightly crooked curve of his nose.
Valen leaned forward and pressed his arms into the desk. “I am going to let you in on a little secret that you are not to share with anyone. Understand?”
“Understood.” I nodded.
Valen sighed and glanced at the closed door, then he gazed back at me.
“The queen’s magic is responsible for the inability to reap within the city walls.
But that magic is not the source of the original curse.
It’s merely a magical bandage or interlude.
The original issue started the day after my arrival to the citadel.
My coreaper and I were tasked here for a larger collection.
Food poisoning or something at a large celebration. ”
He waved his hand as if dismissing the finer details.
“Instead of the attendees passing on as they should have, the specters appeared and began plaguing the citizens, stealing unsanctioned soul energy, and ending untasked lives prematurely. To protect her people, the queen borrowed magic from every citizen under her rule, syphoning their energy to create a safeguard against their demise. Imperfect in its design, the spell prevented all deaths, scheduled or otherwise. It also established the barrier around the citadel walls in an attempt to prevent others from entering Veritas and succumbing to the specters and the queen’s spell. ”
I bit the edge of my lower lip. “A century is a long time to hold a spell of that size in place.”
“Indeed.” Valen nodded. “The queen is fraying at all edges. I’ve spent the better part of the last century trying to find solutions, but to no avail. I, too, am worn. But not defeated.”
Valen was likely doing many things under the prince’s nose, but playing the part of a Doctor Frankenstein? The only monsters I was aware of inside the citadel walls were the specters, the Killian, then myself and Chace. Ah…and probably that Watcher in the tunnels.
“I don’t think he’s creating any monsters.” I laid my napkin over my plate and rose from the table.
Winter followed suit.
He half glided, half stumbled up behind me, slid his hand over my stomach, and skimmed his lips along the curve of my neck. “What now?”
“Winter, don’t.” I turned and forced him back a step, then I retreated toward the bedchamber, putting distance between us. “You’re drunk, and I’m not interested.”
“You’re not? Not even a tiny bit?” He stalked after me like a predator and raised his pinched fingers in emphasis.
Halfway across the room, he swayed and stumbled.
Laughter bubbled up my throat.
“See,” he said. “You like me, if only a little. Besides…” He caught my hips in his hold and dipped his gaze to my stomach. His half-lidded eyes rose to meet mine. “You already have a piece of me inside you.”
I sucked back a sharp breath, his implication clear.
I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt and blame his conduct on the combination of his chasing-tail history and being plastered. Nothing of his was getting inside of me that night or any other night. Because…that simply couldn’t happen. And as for his magic…
My thoughts darted to the way his magic had ravaged my body earlier, turning my fingers blue and freezing my blood.
I hadn’t shared the detail with him when I had recounted my day, and so far, the magic hadn’t given me any more issues…
yet. But I needed that mystical element gone from my system. Thoroughly.
I shoved him back, sending him tottering. He bumped into the table, causing the dishes to rattle. He half sat, half leaned against the wooden surface and blinked at me. I crossed my arms, squared my shoulders.
“About that,” I said. “I want you to pull all your magic out of me.”
“I’ve been doing that.” His head bobbed forward, and he pointed to the bed at my back, his arm swaying, unable to hold steady. “Remember?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m not talking about a little bit every night so that you have some excuse to keep calling on me. I want it all out. Every last crystal shard.”
A deep frown pulled at his features, but I pressed on, contemplating his current condition and connection to his magic.
If it was a part of him that worked more organically than mechanically, driven on instinct and desire, a fair chance existed that the liberations of his inebriated state could lean towards the success of my request.
Less chance of his brain getting in the way, I thought with a chuckle.
Except his brain seemed to be presently trapped somewhere else. I dipped my gaze briefly to his pants. Could I handle and curtail his unfiltered advances? Could I keep him in check?
My chest heaved, and I stepped to the side, granting him a better view of the bed. His potential destination. “You can stay with me tonight if you swear to extract every last frozen drop of your magic before morning.”