Chapter 9 Evira
~Evira~
Nothing but honeyed churros.
That was all Zayn had been eating for the last few days, since he’d brought Vaxan home from the Basilisk Dominion.
I’d just gotten back here a couple of hours beforehand, when Zayn had arrived in a wild burst of teleportation with Vaxan in a really fucked-up state.
He’d barely been lucid and Zayn had been supporting his full weight using his fuchsia magic.
I’d taken over and carried Vaxan upstairs and settled him into our bed.
Despite Zayn telling me that several members of the Basilisk populace had tried to heal their High Lord Heir, but been unsuccessful, and then Zayn had attempted it as well and it hadn’t worked, I’d then tried with my power.
Nothing had worked.
Vaxan had slurred out an explanation that the nature of the brutal fucking process he’d endured meant he couldn’t heal until all that vibrational resonance settled in his system for some time.
So the damage to his organs and the far too many broken bones would remain until that happened.
He’d told us that by sinking into self-immobilization, which was a Basilisk version of a healing sleep, it would speed up the process.
The moment he’d fallen asleep, his entire body had scaled-up, every single inch of his skin covered with those black snake scales that had gleaming citrine veins forming a pattern matching a cobra’s markings.
Since then, he hadn’t woken once.
That, combined with Winter’s abduction, hadn’t exactly been sitting well with Zayn.
It hadn’t been with me either. It was a lot to push through. And my dragon nature didn’t exactly make it easy not to rage and respond with furious displays of might and violence. But we had to tread carefully, especially with everything going on.
So I was channeling my upset and rage into finalizing the Exalt Charter, keeping things moving and conversing with Octana, River, and Fanor. I’d also finalized my part of keeping the Dracoryn Realm from mobilizing.
I’d consolidated indisputable documentation that directly countered the negative framing of Winter that Ruxnoth had put out there with what I was calling Honor Conduct.
It contained intel on his saves, personality, everything needed to build a powerful case to demonstrate that what Ruxnoth wanted of Winter couldn’t come to pass, as Winter being who he was stood in direct opposition to Ruxnoth’s aspirations.
Zayn had been using his influential position among the student body at Loxley Academy to gather support waiting in the wings. He’d also somehow managed in just two phone calls to calm the whole place in regard to the four of us, so we could return once Winter was back with us, resume our studies.
But once he’d been done with that, the proverbial dam had started cracking.
In the last two days, he’d told me about the horrific process Vaxan had suffered through—five times in graphic detail, needing so badly to get it off his chest, to talk it out, after witnessing it up close like that. Seeing our sweetheart lord hurt and suffer like that. Fuck.
Yesterday afternoon, I’d managed to veer him toward his cooking passion to help him take his mind off things, to give the pressure a break.
First, I’d suggested he immerse himself in his Flamecraft art, but he’d felt he was too on edge to mess with his flame in that way, where so much intricate control was needed.
Then I’d floated the idea of the two of us sparring, but just like times I’d brought it up before, he’d shot it down hard. He couldn’t stand the thought of a hit from him landing on me, or on any of us.
So, the cooking thing it was.
And as we sat at the black and pink striped breakfast nook eating—kind of a post-lunch and pre-dinner snack—the mess all over the kitchen spoke volumes on how deeply he’d gotten into it.
Okay, so the batter dripping off the ceiling tiles had been my doing when I’d tried to help.
Following that, Zayn had claimed that he had a certain “cooking protocol” that had already been in play so any further help would have messed with that.
A cute way to get me out of the kitchen, no doubt.
I pushed my plate with the last Savory Hand Pie across to Zayn who was sitting beside me, his inked arm pressed up against my pale-blue tank.
He was definitely off, even his clothing was reflecting that.
He had on a plain white T-Shirt and a pair of black jeans, the only bling or sign of his eclectic way of dressing was the studded belt.
He shook his head at the plate, then went on talking.
“I mean, we need to give it an even cooler name than the one at Win’s family home.
Entertainment Hub for our den isn’t gonna fly.
But we should definitely have all the video games, and fun magical activities too, right?
Oh shit, you wanna create an ice and frost room?
You and Win could make it together. Oh! We could also get Nuvri a friend.
I’ve seen Vax cuddle up to him in the middle of the night a bunch of times now.
You and Win usually sleep hard, but you know me with my restlessness…
kind of translates over into me waking up a lot in the night, so believe me, I’ve seen it. We could call it Nuvro, or something.”
I burst out laughing. “Nuvro?”
He grinned. “Easy, it was just off the top of my head.”
“Sorry, but you’re not living that down.”
He tickled under my chin, making me giggle and writhe. “Stop,” I choked through it, batting his hand away.
He chuckled. “That’s what you get, baby.”
I let out a dragon growl, and he wagged his fingers at me. “Nuh-uh. Now, that’s not very nice, is it?”
“You little fucking—” I ruffled his hair, messing it all up.
He smirked at me and fixed it in a split-second with a flick of his magic, flashing me a shit-eating expression.
“You know, in all seriousness, I think your ideas for expanding this place are great.”
“Yeah?”
“Definitely. And I’ll work on some designs for the ice and frost room.”
“Awesome!”
My chest squeezed at the enthusiasm radiating off him, his eyes finally sparkling again.
I pushed the plate toward him again, then I was smiling, relief flooding through me, as he snatched up the pie and shoved the whole thing into his mouth, munching voraciously.
Good. Much better.
When he’d swallowed it down, he nodded to himself. “Damn, I outdid myself with this batch, huh?”
Before I could answer, his phone alarm went off in his pocket, and he jumped up. “Blackcurrant truffles are ready, finally cooled!”
I shifted in the booth, watching as he bounced over to the fridge, all that compact hard muscle putting on a delicious show with the swagger he affected on his way.
He opened the fridge in the next moment, then carefully took out the plate he’d positioned all the little truffles on—in perfectly aligned concentric circles.
He hummed to himself as he brought it over to the island and rested it on the shimmering black surface.
Leaning down, he breathed them in, and then went to pick one up.
And stopped.
A choked sound escaped him, and he stared at the pink crystal plate, his lip wobbling.
I pushed to my feet, grimacing when he slumped against the counter dejectedly.
“Zayn?” I spoke softly, walking to him.
“I can’t… they’ve become Win’s favorite—even rivaling the Frosted Moon Petal Cakes from Vantiqe. I thought making them and us eating them would be a way to have him here with us and then… but, no, without him here it feels... wrong.”
“It’s okay,” I said, reaching out and stroking his nape. “We’ll save them. I can put them in a protective ice stasis to keep them fresh for when he gets back.”
“When he gets back,” he mused.
I could see where his mind was going, and I interjected quickly, “Yes. When. We’ll bring him back to us. That’s not even a question. It’s an absolute certainty.”
He stared at me for several moments, rubbing his worry stone bracelet.
And then he looked away and cleared his throat. “Then, when he’s back with us, we need to make sure we also have the Frosted Moon Petal Cakes here for him.”
“Okay, little hellion. We will.”
I swept a wave of my magic over the plate, forming a shimmering glacial dome over the top. It wouldn’t technically freeze the truffles, just preserve their freshness and keep them exactly the way they were currently even when more time passed.
Then I opened the fridge with a spark of my magic, and levitated the plate over, settling it inside.
Zayn beamed at me. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“I may have heard it mentioned once or twice.”
His lips quirked. “As you should have. Many, many times. All the time.” He ran his gaze the length of me, then pushed into me, all that hard muscle pressing against me.
Eyes hooding, he turned his head into my touch, and it had me gliding my fingers down over his shoulder, along his arm and all those intricate chaotic tattoos.
His pulse picked up and I scented his need.
A growl rumbled in my throat as it sent a rush of desire through me.
He trailed his fingers over the neckline of my top, across my bare shoulders, then down over my breasts, making my breath hitch, licks of sensation intensifying my growl.
His eyes shone in response. “Did I tell you how fucking sexy you look in this?” he breathed, fingers trailing lower.
“Love this blue on you.” He fingered the hem of my top, then slipped his hand underneath, gliding over my stomach and touching me skin to skin.
His heat, the need, it was like freezer burn, such a heady feeling.
“Like these edgy streaks in your hair,” he said, playing with them.
“Fuck, icicle, you’re always so beyond sexy. ”
He slinked behind me, then pulled my top up over my body, tossing it across the kitchen. “Yes… flawless,” he rasped, rubbing his hands all over the lace of my bra. I threw my head back against his shoulder as he slipped two fingers under each cup and rolled my nipples.