by Jack Whitney
He stopped talking and simply held her hands in his, and she suddenly felt herself trembling at the thought of telling him. Her heart raced, the noise of it throbbing in her ears. The first time Vasilis touched her flashed in her memory, and the flames turned blue in front of her as she stared at them.
“Aydra?”
The sound of Draven’s soft voice slashed the flames back to orange. She swallowed hard, an icy breath cutting through her lungs, and she wiped a tear forcefully from her face. “What I tell you,” she managed, “you have to understand. I’ve never actually told anyone. Dorian and Lex know, but… it is because they saw it. Not because I told them.”
Draven’s eyes narrowed, and he squeezed her hands. “Whatever it is—”
“Draven, don’t coddle me,” she whispered. “Don’t try to save me. I just… I need you to hear me.”
He swallowed hard, eyes traveling over her face. And then he gave her a nod. “Okay.”
The words vomited from her mouth.
Before she knew what was happening, she was telling him everything. Everything. From the first time Vasilis put his hands on her and Zoria told her it was normal, to the last time Rhaif had burned her and forced her to her knees. She told him of how she’d blamed herself for it for years, of how she’d only just allowed herself to escape from the condemnation of it.
The words caught in her throat. The knot folded in her stomach. She thought she would actually vomit a time or two, and Draven would rub her arm and squeeze her hand in response, not saying a word as she worked through it.
And when she was done, she watched as his own tears ran down his silent face. The angst of revealing her true self to him ripped through her insides, and seeing the hurt on his face made her flesh redden. She reached out and wiped his face, to which he took her hand and kissed her palm hard.
“I’m sorry,” he choked. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize the extent of it… Of what was happening… I thought it was just squabbles between you, normal fights of a brother and sister, I—”
“It’s fine,” she whispered. She avoided his gaze, terrified if she looked too hard into his eyes that she would see her own shame written back at her in his pupils.
“Aydra, it isn’t fine,” he argued. The wind picked up, but only for a second. His form squirmed, as though he were trying to keep some part of himself shoved inside, trying not to allow his powers to exude at the frustration and anger he felt. “What he did to you… what they have all done to each other… if the people knew how Arbina treated you both—”
“Do you truly think the people would believe me over he or our mother?” she breathed, feeling the heat creep on her cheeks at the thought of what the people would say if she even tried to accuse their wonderful king of such horror. Their perfect king. Honorable and generous. To accuse all the kings before him, those whom her people had practically worshiped in those walls, forcing their queen to stand alone in his shadows without realizing what they were doing to them.
“Do you think they’d believe the word of the promiscuous queen over their beloved Chronicles and honorable King?” she continued.
Draven’s fist tightened at his side, and he stared into the darkness, a firmness rising in his jaw. “He will pay for this,” he promised. “I will break every bone in his body before slitting his throat if ever I get him alone.”
“No, you won’t,” she affirmed.
He paused, brows raising just slightly on his forehead as he met her eyes. “You expect me to sit back and not rip him to shreds the next I see him?”
She stared pointedly at him, their eyes not moving, until finally he sighed heavily and shook his head.
“Yeah, fine,” he surrendered.
“If you were to kill him, it would take away from what we should be truly focused on,” she insisted. “These ships. The strangers. ‘Man’ if you will. If you kill him, it will start a war between us, between all our friends we just brought together, and we cannot lose any men before the true battle comes. You know this, Draven.”
A growl emitted from under his breath. “I never liked being the hero,” he told her. “It’s much more fun being the villain.”
The upwards quirk of her lips was brief, and an exhausted jagged breath left her lungs. He exhaled deliberately as she sank against him, her body washed with relief of telling him the truth, getting it out so there were no secrets between them. Her skin tingled with the waking of her numb core, as though her flesh was being pricked with needles as it awoke of a new day and life just a little more free than it had been before.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
THE MURMURS OF the forest welcomed her two mornings later.
She could not keep the small smile from herself upon smelling the forest air around her. It was just darkening when they’d arrived the night before, and Draven had brought her in under the light of the moons overhead. She hardly remembered it, being so exhausted from the mental anguish of her leaving and then the restless nights she’d received on her journey. She wasn’t sure how she made it up the stairs.
But when the rays of sun came through the ragged curtains over the windows, she felt herself stir, and she turned over and opened her eyes, only to find Draven standing in the wide doorway across the room from her, his figure leaning on the doorframe facing out towards the forest.
She watched him a moment, allowing the day to sink in, allowing her mind to grasp on to why she was there and not in her own black sheets beneath the golden canopy of her four-poster bed. The smell of the forest entered her nostrils, but she could not make herself get up.
Her heart ached for the sound of her raven’s morning cackle.
A tear fell down her cheek, and she pulled the blanket up around her once more.
It was a few minutes later when she felt the bed shift, and she knew Draven had sat down beside her. She didn’t move, pretending to be asleep, not wanting to see any pity he might have for her on his features.
He didn’t shake her. He didn’t push her. He simply leaned down and kissed her shoulder, giving her hip a squeeze through the blanket before rising once more.
She stayed in the bed the rest of the day, and the next, not even rising when he would bring food up. Her core felt drained, void of the presence that had so long been with her.
It was weird. She was so accustomed to hearing her raven’s voice, feeling its comforting presence at her side at all times of the day and night. She felt as though a small piece of her had vanished. The comfort blanket she shielded herself with now gone.
She felt terrible for not getting up and at least speaking to Draven, but she didn’t know what to do, what to say, even how to act. She was grateful for him, not only because he’d aided her, but because he wasn’t being pushy about anything. He wasn’t crowding her, forcing her to be whatever normal was.
At night, he simply laid beside her and kissed her shoulder, not wrapping her up in his arms until she was the one to snuggle against him. And when she would snuggle into him or take his arm and wrap it around her, he would sigh heavily and kiss her neck, just softly enough that she knew he was there. She appreciated him more than she could put into the words she wanted to tell him. Telling him she loved him did not seem enough to express what she’d come to feel.
He saw her.
The real her.
He heard her.
It was on the third morning that she finally rose from the sheets. Her frazzled hair was matted on the right side of her head, the rest of it poking out in a wild mane of curls. She could feel knots in the ends and on the back of her head. The shirt Draven had given her hung loose on her deteriorating body.
But the smell of the forest intoxicated her. It was a cool morning, the kind of cool morning where you want to sit on your balcony snuggled in a blanket, warm cup of tea in your hands. She rubbed her face in her palms a moment as she sat up, allowing the blood to flow back to her core.
She allowed her legs to dangle over the side of the bed, waking her toes up one by one
. The cool wood touched her feet, and she made herself get up.
Sunlight flooded through the canopy of the trees, the rust of the turning leaves catching in the rays. The light cascaded down and hit the wooden rail of the balcony. Birds’ songs flittered in her ears.
This was the new morning she would remember for the remainder of her days. Her first truly quiet morning that she actually accepted, without the struggle of the crown on her head or the comfort of her raven at her side.
She hugged her arms to her chest as she felt a tear fall down her cheek. A quiet sigh left her, and she leaned herself on the banister of the railing. Below, she could see men and women enjoying themselves as they ate their breakfasts, the laughter of the men making her smile inwardly. The sun hit her face, and she had to close her eyes as its warmth penetrated her skin. It was as though the Sun herself were speaking to her, telling her it would be okay.
When her eyes opened once more, she found Draven’s figure standing in the middle of conversation with Balandria and Bael on the other side of the clearing between the trees.
It was Balandria who saw her first. Her small eyes smiled at her. She nudged Draven’s chest and gave an upwards nod towards the balcony. Aydra’s stomach fluttered upon meeting his gaze. The ghost of a smile spread across his lips.
Another Hunter joined them, and Draven’s attention was turned as the man shook his shoulders jovially. She felt a laugh rise on her lips as she watched them. A few moments later, she found herself sitting on the balcony floor, leaned against one of the railings with her legs tucked into her chest. A lizard had found her, and she was speaking with it about what it had planned for its day when she heard footsteps on the stairs.
The warmth of his smile met hers as he slowed as he took the last few steps up to the platform. Her heart knotted in her chest as the look in his eyes, the look she so cherished, as though he were seeing her for the first time.
“Making friends?” he asked with a nod to the lizard.
She chuckled and let the lizard back on the railing. “Always.”
He reached out for her hands, which she gladly took, and the rush at which he pulled her to her feet made her fall into his arms. She laughed as he hugged her into him, her forearms lying on his chest, the hug of his hand on the small of her back.
“Hi,” he whispered.
The curl of his fingers in her matted hair made her knees weaken. “Hi,” she managed in a voice she barely heard.
His nose nudged against hers, and she closed her eyes in response to the jagged breaths now threatening her lungs.
“Your heart is beating really fast,” he muttered.
“Only for you,” she breathed.
She could feel him smiling when he finally kissed her. And for a moment, she forgot they were on the balcony, in full view of his men, the sun beating against their skin as a spotlight on their public display.
It didn’t matter how many times he’d kissed her before, every time, she found herself surprised by the fluttering in her stomach, the honey warmth radiating over her skin, the skipping of her heart…
But the noise of catcalls and howls from the clearing below echoed in her ears, and she felt his hand leave her waist. She pulled back to find him making an obscene hand gesture at his men, and she laughed at the grinning faces on all the people below.
“Ignore them.” His voice tickled her ear. She found Balandria in the crowd, and the woman raised her drink to her and then took a sip.
“I certainly didn’t think you’d be getting this response for my being here,” she said as he pulled back to see his face.
“I told you they liked you,” he insisted. He took a step back and let her go, simply holding onto her hands as he gave her a full once over. “You’re a mess,” he joked. “What is happening with your hair?”
Her stomach knotted at his banter, heart enlarging in her chest so that she inhaled another jagged breath. “I’m sorry. Does my morning appearance not live up to the Venari standard?”
He laughed and he pulled her back to him. “Exceeding it,” he said against her lips.
For a moment, he simply held her there, his eyes darting over her face as she wrapped a finger against his stubbled cheek.
“Will you join us for breakfast?” he asked.
She swallowed hard and avoided his gaze a moment. He squeezed her hands.
“No pressure,” he insisted. “Only if you’re up for it.”
Her stomach rumbled, and she squeezed his hands back. “Can I bathe first?” she asked.
He reached up and pulled a leaf from her hair, twirling it between his fingers in front of her. “Probably a good idea.”
It was the breakfast she didn’t know her core craved.
But as she stared around them, enjoying her time with their smiling faces, she was reminded of her youngers, and for a moment she felt her jaw tighten at the thought of them being back at the castle.
After breakfast, a few of Draven’s men came up to him with things they needed his help with.
“Yeah, I’m coming. Two minutes,” he told them before turning back to her. “I have some things I need to take care of. After, I’m yours.”
“Oh—” She had not expected him to think she wanted him to stop his duties for her. “Take your time, please. You’re still king. I dare not take away from your duties and your people,” she insisted. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“What will you do?” he asked.
She shrugged and looked around them. “It’s a beautiful day. Perhaps I’ll take a walk. Get my feet dirty.”
His eyes narrowed just slightly, but he didn’t protest. “Okay.”
Her brows narrowed. “Okay? That’s it? No ordering someone to look after me or—”
“Should I have?” he asked, clearly confused by her question.
“Ah… no, no, it’s just…”
He pulled her close and kissed her forehead, making her cease her ramblings. “You’re not in Magnice anymore, Drae,” he said. “You can go wherever you like. Just be careful of the forest tricks.” He leaned in and kissed her fleetingly before turning on his heel. “Oh—” he paused mid-stride and held up a finger “—and don’t listen to the nymphs.”
She frowned. “The nymphs?” she repeated.
“Yeah. Tiny things. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just swat them like flies. And—” he pulled his knife from his belt and tossed it into her hands “—just in case.”
She stared at the knife in her hands. “Wait—what?” she called as he turned on his heel again and started walking faster.
“You’ll be fine. I’ll find you later!”
She stared after his retreating figure with a blank stare.
“He’s joking,” said one of the Hunters behind her. “Nymphs aren’t bad. Just like annoying mosquitoes that talk. It’s really the Kopies you want to watch out for.”
She raised an amused brow at the slender man sitting beneath the tree, whittling away at a large branch in his hands. “Kopies. Right. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
HER BARE FEET led her southeast into the forest’s depths.
She hugged her cloak around her shoulders as she walked, relishing the animals around her as she felt their cores and allowed them to fill her. She had no destination in mind, but when she found herself in the clearing she’d visited with the Venari people for the funerals, she wasn’t surprised.
“Hello, Duarb,” she said upon seeing the mangled tree.
She should have felt scared. She should have felt the darkness. But all she felt was the sun on her back as she sat down in front of the great tree in the ray of light that had made its way into the forest.
The tongues on its trunk didn’t wiggle as ferociously as they had when the Venari had been there. As she stared at it, she started to think her eyes were deceiving her, for it looked as though the tree were breathing. She pulled her knees into her chest and sighed.
“This is weird,” she muttered.
“I’m used to Arbina simply appearing whether I need her or not. But you… you can’t. Trapped inside your own mind except when called upon.”
She suddenly felt so sorry for Duarb, being cursed into the tree he had sprung from. She sighed and stared at it another moment before then lying down on the ground. Her eyes closed, and she reached out for any creatures in the forest to feel, allowing her core to release from her body.
For how long she laid there, knotting her core with different creatures to escape, she wasn’t sure. But halfway through the day, she felt a familiar energy come near, and she nearly screamed out into the sky as it came near.
The Aenean Orel landed beside her and bowed its head.
And she fell into its feathers.
The great bird stayed with her until the sun began to set, allowing her to lay against it, its head nuzzling hers as they sat beneath the tree they’d both been instructed was their enemy. When the sun waned, the orel gave her another bow, and it lifted up off the ground to follow the sunlight. Aydra knew she should have started heading back, but she couldn’t move, too at peace with the wrap of noir and creatures around her that she wanted to settle there for the rest of her days. She allowed the moons light to greet her through the trees, and she sighed into the darkened wood.
“I thought I might find you here,” came a voice in the darkness.
She looked up and met Draven’s eyes as he emerged into the moons light peeking through the canopy. He carried a box with him that she didn’t recognize.
“Daughter of his enemy. Of course I had to come and see him,” she said as he crossed the space between them. “What’s in the box?”
“Ah—” he sat down beside her and put the box in front of her feet. “It’s your raven.”
Her heart constricted and she reached out to trace the lid.
“Thought you might want to give her a proper Noctuan burial.”
She turned and met his gaze. “There is a Noctuan burial?”
“Well… normally, it would be during the deads, but because it was able to live during the moons, I see no reason why this shouldn’t work.”
