Chapter 11
Jupiter
The dream clung to me like a second skin. Jamie’s mouth between my thighs, the taste of him on my lips, the aching vulnerability in his vivid eyes. I pressed my palms against my face, feeling the heat in my cheeks.
What have I done?
The room was barely lit by early morning light filtering through the tower windows. My laptop lay forgotten at the foot of my bed, the Twilight menu screen still playing on a loop. I snapped it shut and swung my legs over the side of the bed.
Four thousand miles away, I could feel the Nightfall Shield stirring in my consciousness. Even with my mental walls up, there was always a thin thread connecting us, pulsing with their emotions. Right now it felt like a hot wire against my skin, as if they somehow knew what I’d done.
Guilt crashed over me with such force that I had to grip the edge of the mattress to stay upright.
I’d been intimate with Jamie—dream or not, it felt real.
We’d crossed a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, and despite everything Nightfall had done to me, some twisted part of me felt like I’d betrayed them.
Stupid… They threw you away. They don’t own you anymore.
But the bond disagreed. It twisted painfully in my chest as I made my way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it would go. I stepped under the spray, hoping it would wash away the lingering sensations of my dream.
Instead, at the first touch of water against my skin, my legs gave out, and I sank to the tile floor, hot water streaming over me as sobs tore from my throat. I wrapped my arms around my knees, making myself as small as possible while the water pounded against my back.
“I hate you—” I cried, not sure if I was talking to the guys or myself. “I hate what you’ve done to me.”
I missed them so much it physically hurt. It was a constant ache that never fully went away no matter how high I built my walls.
“Stop it,” I commanded myself out loud like a crazy person, pressing my forehead against my knees. “Just fucking stop!”
They didn’t deserve my loyalty. They hadn’t given me the benefit of the doubt when it mattered most.
And Jamie... Jamie hadn’t done any of that. He’d been kind, respectful, and careful with my broken pieces. He deserved better than my guilt.
With maximum effort, I pushed myself to my feet, taking a deep breath as I forced the sobs to subside. I stood under the hot spray, letting it sluice away my tears along with the remnants of my dream. By the time I turned off the water, my skin was pink and tender, but I felt more in control.
Back in my bedroom, I went through the motions of my morning routine.
I smoothed silky vitamin oil over my face, followed by moisturizer that smelled faintly of pears and a light sunscreen.
I worked leave-in conditioner through my damp hair before combing it straight, then braiding it loosely to keep it from tangling.
Sometimes I wanted to cut it just to ease some of the hassle, but my mom would just glue it back to my head again.
Today was Saturday, and a group of students from Scorpio were heading into the village.
Marcus had invited me earlier in the week, promising to show me the local pub that served “proper English cider, not that sugary American rubbish.” The normalcy of it—just hanging out with friends, exploring a new place—was exactly what I needed.
I pulled on black jeans and a deep burgundy sweater. As I turned to grab my boots, I noticed Noodle by the window, his sleek head raised up in the breeze. The window was open, letting in the crisp morning air, and perched on the sill was a familiar iridescent figure.
“Gretchen,” I said with a smile, surprised to see Jamie’s familiar in my room.
She cocked her head, those intelligent amber eyes studying me. Was she here to judge me? To spy?
‘She brought a shiny thing,’ Noodle said proudly.
Sure enough, at Gretchen’s feet was a small object catching the morning light.
Gretchen didn’t fly away as I approached.
Instead, she shuffled sideways on the sill, making room for me to see what she’d brought.
It was a small, polished stone—dark green with flecks of gold that caught the light. A gift.
“It’s beautiful. Is this... is this for me?”
Gretchen made a soft cooing sound. To my shock, when I carefully extended my hand, she leaned forward and allowed me to stroke the soft feathers on top of her head.
I picked up the stone, rolling it between my fingers. It was smooth and cool. “Thank you, Gretchen, it’s lovely.”
Gretchen preened, clearly pleased with herself.
Noodle slithered closer, his tongue flicking out to taste the air near the stone. ‘It’s a rock.’
I scoffed. “It’s not just a rock. It’s a treasure.”
A knock at my door made me start. I slipped the stone into my pocket and called, “Come in!”
Dani poked her head in, her copper curls wild around her face. “We’re heading out in ten minutes if you still want to—“ She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening at the sight of Gretchen. “Jamie Kelso’s familiar? On your windowsill?”
“This is Gretchen. She just popped in to say good morning to Noodle.”
Dani’s eyebrows shot up, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Very interesting.”
“Oh my gosh, it’s not like that.”
‘You sit on a throne of lies…’
I shot Noodle a glare.
“Sure it’s not,” Dani said with a wink. “Anyway, meet us in the common room.”
After she left, I turned back to Gretchen. “Thank you for the stone. And tell Jamie...” I trailed off, not sure what message I wanted to send. “Just tell him I said hi, I guess.”
Gawd, can you be more fucking awkward?
Gretchen cooed again, then spread her magnificent wings and launched herself from the windowsill, soaring out into the morning sky.
“Come on, Nood,” I said, offering my wrist. “Let’s go try some English cider and pretend we’re normal for a day.”
‘What is normal?’ he asked, slithering up my arm anyway, disappearing beneath my sleeve where he could remain hidden from casual observers.
“Beats me, man, beats me.”
I found myself several pints deep at the village pub, a warm buzz flowing through my veins as I laughed at Marcus’s terrible rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody.” The entire group from Scorpio had been drinking since mid-afternoon, and the cider was definitely stronger than what I was used to back home.
“This is painful,” Dani groaned beside me, covering her ears dramatically as he hit a particularly high note. “Make it stop.”
“Are you kidding? This is art.” I giggled, raising my glass in salute as Marcus bowed to scattered applause and more than a few good-natured jeers.
The pub was everything I’d imagined a quintessential English village establishment would be—low wooden beams, a crackling fireplace, and walls covered in framed black and white photographs of locals from decades past. The worn wooden tables were sticky with spilled drinks, and the whole place smelled of hops, smoke, and history.
“Your turn, Jupe!” a chick named Victoria called from across the table.
I shook my head vigorously. “Not happening. I don’t sing.”
“Everyone sings after their fourth pint,” Liam insisted, sliding another full mug toward me.
As the next victim took the makeshift stage, I suddenly remembered the little antique shop we’d passed earlier. I’d wanted to check it out, but we’d been running late for our lunch reservation.
“I’m going to slip out for a bit,” I told Dani, rising from my seat. “I want to look at that antique shop before we head back.”
Dani checked her phone. “We’re leaving in about thirty minutes, so don’t get lost.”
“I won’t,” I promised, grabbing my jacket and weaving my way through the crowded pub.
Outside, the evening air was crisp and refreshing after the stuffy warmth of the pub.
The village was picture-perfect, with cobblestone streets and stone buildings that looked like they’d stood for centuries.
Soft golden light spilled from windows, and the few pedestrians nodded politely as I passed.
I found the shop easily, a narrow storefront with a weathered wooden sign reading “Curiosities & Antiquities.” The display window was crowded with an eclectic assortment of items from old brass instruments, leather-bound books, vintage jewelry, and what appeared to be a taxidermied fox wearing spectacles.
A little bell jingled as I pushed open the door. The interior was exactly the kind of organized chaos I loved. There were shelves crammed with treasures, narrow aisles winding between display cases, and that distinctive smell of old books and polished wood.
“Hello?” I called out, not seeing anyone at first.
No response came, but I could hear movement in the back of the shop. I began wandering the aisles, running my fingers along dusty book spines and examining delicate porcelain figurines. Noodle stirred against my wrist, his curiosity piqued by the strange new scents.
‘Old magic here.’
I nodded, feeling it too. It was a subtle thrum of energy in certain objects, the kind that suggested they’d been owned by zodiacs or had brushed against our world in some way. Or maybe it was just the magic that lived in the earth. Magic that was drawn to strong points of energy like Imperium.
As I rounded a corner, I found a glass case filled with jewelry.
My eyes were immediately drawn to a small silver pendant.
A crescent moon cradling a tiny opal that seemed to contain all the colors of the universe inside.
My mom would absolutely love it. She collected celestial-themed jewelry, and this piece was exactly her style.
“Can I help you find something?” a deep voice asked from behind me.
I turned to find a large man standing there.
Easily six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and powerful arms. He appeared to be in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped close to his head.
His features suggested Pacific Islander heritage, with warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled.
Something about him struck me as oddly familiar, though I was certain I’d never met him before.
“That pendant,” I said, pointing to the moon and opal piece. “Could I see it?”
“Excellent eye,” he said, unlocking the case and carefully lifting out the necklace. “This piece is quite special. The opal is from Australia, and the silver was hand-forged by a craftsman who worked only by moonlight.”
I wanted to giggle. There was always some kind of intense story behind everything at these places. In reality it was probably made by some 30-year-old crafter in her apartment office by the light of her phone while she scrolled TikTok.
He placed it in my palm, and I was surprised by its weight. It was heavier than it looked. The opal caught the light, flashing blue and green and purple.
“It’s perfect,” I murmured. “My mom would love this. How much?”
“For you?” He paused, studying me dramatically. “Thirty pounds.”
That seemed suspiciously reasonable for such a beautiful piece, but I wasn’t about to argue. I handed him the pendant and dug in my pocket for my wallet.
As he wrapped the necklace in tissue paper, I browsed a nearby shelf of small trinkets. My phone buzzed with a text from Dani:
D: 15 mins and we’re leaving! Where are you?
J: Just finishing up.
The shopkeeper placed the wrapped pendant in a small paper bag and handed it to me with a warm smile. “There you are, love.”
“Thank you,” I said, passing him the money. As our hands briefly touched, I felt a strange jolt. Something like… recognition, but not quite. Like I’d known him somewhere or seen his face before. His eyes widened slightly, confirming he’d felt something too.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked, his voice careful now.
I shook my head. “No, that’s all. Thank you again.”
I headed for the door, the little bell jingling as I pushed it open.
“It was nice meeting you, Jupiter,” he called after me.
I smiled and waved automatically, then stepped outside. Three steps later, I froze. I never told him my name. I whirled around, ready to march back in and demand answers, but my phone buzzed again.
D: FIVE MINUTES! We’re by the fountain!
Reluctantly, I turned away from the shop and hurried toward the meeting point, mind racing. How did he know who I was? Was he from the Assembly? A spy from Dominion? Or just another zodiac who recognized the infamous Ophis?
I reached the fountain just as the group was gathering. Everyone was pleasantly tipsy, laughing and chatting as we piled into the vans that would take us back to Imperium.
“Get anything good?” Dani asked as we settled into our seats.
“A pendant for my mom,” I said distractedly, still thinking about the shopkeeper.
As the van pulled away from the village, winding through narrow country roads, I stared out the window at the passing landscape. The shopkeeper’s face floated in my mind, that sense of familiarity nagging at me.
And then it hit me like a truck. He looked like Phoenix. The same broad build, similar features, even that same warm, intense gaze, just older, without the dreadlocks. The family resemblance was striking now that I made the connection.
Was he related to Phoenix? An uncle, perhaps?
I pulled out my phone, tempted to text Phoenix and ask, but stopped myself.
This wasn’t something to discuss over text, and I wasn’t even sure what I would say.
“Hey, I met your older doppelg?nger in the village, he knew my name without me telling him, what’s that about—are you spying on me? ”
Instead, I slipped the phone back into my pocket and fingered the small paper bag containing the pendant. Tomorrow I’d ask questions. For now, I had a beautiful gift for my mommy and a pleasant buzz from the cider.