by Meg Anne
Effie half-expected an answer, but there was none.
When she’d first met the Triumvirate, she’d thought them unfeeling, like they’d sacrificed their humanity when becoming the beings that were responsible for overseeing the fate of the realms. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Perhaps it was not a lack of feelings at all. Maybe the Triumvirate closed themselves off to keep from feeling too much. Centuries of prophecies depicting countless paths, most filled with death and destruction, had to enact a terrible toll. Perhaps shutting themselves down was the only way to keep from going completely mad.
“Would you like to See my vision now?” Effie asked.
“If you’re up for it.”
Effie rolled her eyes. “I have a scratch on my leg. I do worse to myself stumbling around the citadel.”
Smoke stood and moved to the other end of the bed so that he was standing next to her. Effie didn’t flinch when his hand lifted, the dark blue rune in his palm filling her vision.
“What does it mean?” Effie asked, darting her eyes from his hand up to his hood.
“There is no translation.”
“So what purpose does it serve then?”
“The runes focus our power.”
“Like amplifiers? They make your power stronger?”
“More like the opposite.”
Effie’s brows scrunched together. “Why would you willingly make yourself weaker?”
“Not weaker necessarily. It’s about control. Our runes are the physical manifestation of the spell we used to bind our power to our will. Without them, our power would be unchecked.”
Effie wasn’t sure she fully understood, but if the Triumvirate believed their power was safer under symbolic lock and key, she was not about to argue.
“So, for instance, without the runes you wouldn’t need to touch someone to see inside their minds?” she guessed, glancing back at his hand.
Smoke dipped his head.
“That would get . . . overwhelming.”
“Indeed.”
Realizing that was all he was going to say on the matter, Effie closed her eyes. “Ready when you are.”
The brush of his skin against her forehead was gentle. If she hadn’t been waiting for it, she might not have felt it at all. There was a flare of heat where they were connected and then the sense of tumbling into herself.
The crash of glass rang loudly in her ears before the only sound she could hear was the rasp of her breath. Effie’s vision came back to her between one stuttered heartbeat and the next, but this time she felt like she was seeing it from a different angle instead of actually reliving it.
Somehow Smoke had taken control of the vision, manipulating it as needed to allow himself the ability to see every nuanced detail. This included freezing the vision and then enlarging each individual shard of glass in the sky. One by one, he magnified them in order to focus on the reflection they contained—even the ones Effie herself hadn’t noticed when experiencing it.
Time lost all meaning as Smoke moved from one image to the next. Some were so terrifying that Effie’s heart began to race, but before she could give in to her fear, Smoke took it away.
Here in her mind his voice resonated so loudly it was all she knew. It wrapped itself around her like a caress, buoying her with its strength. “What you see before you are only echoes. Nothing here can hurt you.”
Memories can still cut, she thought, not taking into consideration that connected as they were Smoke would be able to hear her.
“Only if you let them.”
But the reflections . . .
“Show you every possible outcome. The dark as well as the light,” Smoke pointed out, enlarging one image she hadn’t Seen that revealed her beaming face. Releasing it, and letting the vision resume, he added, “You cannot fear what might come to be.”
Isn’t that exactly what we’ve been doing the last few days?
Smoke didn’t answer her. Instead, he finished watching her vision, his presence helping numb her terror once the unseen monsters started ripping her apart. Even though there was nothing to explicitly see during that portion of the vision, the feeling of the ghostly hands tearing at her was still there. Effie could feel them as clearly as she felt Smoke’s hand pressed against her head.
Vision complete, Smoke started to retract his conscious from hers. But not before unsummoned thoughts started to rise to the surface.
Lucian’s heated gaze took center stage, the bronze flecks surrounding his pupils burning brightly as he lost his iron-clad grasp on his control. Effie could feel the rough scrape of his beard scratching her as he kissed her like a drowning man searching for air.
Then a different Lucian, this one barely holding himself together as he stood in the middle of her room. His chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes holding a savagery she’d never seen in a man before. He had been more wild animal than human in that moment, the need to protect her shredding his sanity.
Next was his voice, a deep rasp that filled her body with molten heat. “Don’t ever think I didn’t want you.”
Effie’s cheeks burned as she opened her eyes and sucked in a shallow breath. “Enough!” she stammered, pushing herself out of Smoke’s hold.
She stared into the darkness that hid Smoke’s face, her heart hammering wildly as she waited for him to tell her that she could never be with Lucian.
Her mind was wild with all of the imagined reasons he would give her. That Lucian’s duty was to the Triumvirate and she’d only get in the way. That he was immortal and she very much was not. That Lucian’s heart had already been claimed by another.
When Smoke didn’t speak, Effie went on the defensive. “The polite thing to do would be to forget you ever saw that. Those are private moments that do not concern you.”
“You have feelings for the Guardian?”
“What if I do?” she asked, jutting her chin out.
“It is not my place to tell you who you are allowed to care about.”
Effie opened and closed her mouth, stunned. “It’s not?”
A soft rustling sound filled her room. “You seem to have a few misguided notions about the Triumvirate’s purpose.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. The entire conversation had taken a turn she did not see coming.
“Your grandmother loved once. She even raised a family. Being a Keeper is not mutually exclusive with having a life. Why would you assume it would be different for you?”
Effie shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it at all, to be honest. I’m just so used to being told I can’t have something that I must have just assumed you would find fault with it. Or with me for wanting someone so far above me.” The last words came out more bitterly than she meant them to.
“You think the Guardian above you?”
“Isn’t he?” Effie snorted, shifting uncomfortably in her bed. “He’s part of the Brotherhood, an immortal being with a sworn duty to serve you. How could I ever . . .” Effie trailed off; the words too painful to say out loud.
Lucian had never done anything to even suggest these fears were founded. He had a way of looking at her like he truly saw who she was, and he not only accepted her for it, he liked what he found there. She knew that these were old fears, ones that she had held onto for the better part of her life. They stemmed from the taunts of others, the hateful words spoken so often that when they replayed in her memory now they were in her own voice.
Smoke was silent for so long that Effie was afraid he was about to agree with her.
“Daughter.”
Effie forced herself to look up.
“The Guardian’s heart is his own. No one, not even duty, can dictate who he gives it to.”
She let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “So you don’t object?”
“Would it matter if I did?”
Effie didn’t even need to think about her answer. “Not to me, but then I don’t follow stupid rules.”
More r
ustling filled the small room and a bit more of Effie’s tension receded. Who knew getting advice about love from Smoke could be so cathartic? Her feelings for Lucian were still very new, and largely unexplored, she hadn’t even been consciously aware of these worries until Smoke had quite literally pulled them to the surface.
“I think it might matter to Lucian, though,” she murmured, recalling their earlier conversation about protocol.
Smoke went unnaturally still beside her. “You aren’t giving your Guardian enough credit.”
Effie shrugged. “Part of what makes Lucian so special is his honor. If it came down to having to choose between me or you . . .”
“Who says it has to be a choice?”
A part of her didn’t believe it would be quite that simple, but another part, the one that was starting to believe in a future where they could be together, held onto that hope with both hands and refused to let go.
“That’s probably not quite what you were expecting when you asked to see my vision,” she said with a little laugh, embarrassed that their conversation had become so personal.
“That’s always the risk with what we do. Although, it was certainly enlightening.”
Effie blushed. “You really have to pretend you never saw any of that. It’s like being caught in bed by your parents. Worse even—I actually care what you think about me.”
There was an odd sucking sound, and Smoke visibly jolted.
She squinted up at him. “Are you laughing?”
“No,” he said vehemently. “I find I do not like being compared to your parents.”
“I did say I actually care what you think,” she pointed out, laughing a little at his obvious discomfort.
“Yes, well. Anyone who abandons their child in such a heinous manner deserves to rot in hell.”
Baffled, Effie shook her head. “Smoke, I’m sorry. It was just an off-handed comment. I never meant to imply you were anything like my parents.”
“A woman who punishes her daughter by cutting into her flesh and a man who stands by and laughs while it happens are not parents.”
She flinched, although that particular memory had lost its power to hurt her a long time ago. “Yes, well, I was a constant disappointment to them. At least the feeling is mutual.”
Another howl tore through the room, spurring her into action. Leaning forward, Effie placed her hand on his arm. “Smoke, I’m fine. Please, there’s no need to be upset about something that occurred decades ago.”
If anyone ever told her one day she would offer comfort to someone because of what had happened to her when she’d been a child . . . Effie would have fallen to the floor laughing.
“It was not decades for me,” he said finally, his smoky voice an uneven rasp.
“I appreciate your concern on my behalf, honestly I do, but I don’t understand why it’s upsetting you so much. Surely you’ve Seen far worse things during your lifetime.”
Smoke lurched away from her and started to pace, the gracelessness of his movements doing much to emphasize his current distress.
“Rarely do I know the ones impacted by what I See.”
“Oh,” she said softly, finally understanding.
“I have suffered through your pain, experienced these inexplicable cruelties as if they were my own . . .”
Effie swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood.
Smoke spun to face her. “You’re supposed to stay in bed.”
“Shut up and come here,” she demanded.
Smoke remained frozen in place.
“Fine, then. I’ll come to you.” Effie closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Smoke’s middle, squeezing tightly.
He stood awkwardly at first, his arms raised to the sides as if he was unsure what to do with them.
“It’s called a hug. You must be familiar with it,” she murmured.
“You are . . . offering me comfort?”
“You’re in pain,” she said simply. “This is what a friend does when someone they care about is in pain.”
A shudder traversed the length of his tall frame, so Effie held on tighter.
“But it is your pain I feel.”
“Then hug me back,” she challenged.
So he did.
Chapter 16
“Alright, Ms. Effie. You are free to go.”
Effie was already up and moving toward the door before the healer finished speaking.
“In a hurry to be somewhere?” the woman, whose name Effie thought was Vesta, asked with a chuckle.
She paused long enough to shoot Vesta a harried grin. “I need to make sure I haven’t missed anything while I’ve been locked up—I mean recovering.”
Vesta winked. “In case it helps narrow your search, I heard the Guardians mention wanting to settle a score while they were waiting for answers. I’m not sure what they meant, but maybe it means something to you?”
“Settle a score?” Effie repeated, her brows dropping. Who among us has a score to settle? Is Lucian having some kind of showdown with Kieran? Head snapping up, Effie started running. If he was, she wasn’t about to miss it.
“At least pretend you’re going to take it easy!” the healer shouted after her.
Heart racing, Effie sprinted down the corridors, narrowly avoiding crashing into Kait in her hurry to get to the training room.
“Oof, sorry!” Effie called, barely slowing.
“Hey, Effie! Have you seen Tess or Jo? I can’t find them.”
“No, sorry. Not in a few days,” Effie said over her shoulder, making the final turn.
Pushing open the double doors, she staggered to a halt. As expected, men were sparring, but neither Lucian nor Kieran were in the ring. The former was standing against the far wall, his arms folded across his chest as he watched Ronan and Kael circle each other. The latter was nowhere to be found.
Now that she was thinking about it, Effie hadn’t seen Kieran at all since their return from the jungle. He hadn’t even made a point to visit her while she’d been confined to the healing wing, which was highly unusual. While it was true she’d asked him to give her space, Effie hadn’t actually expected him to respect her wishes. Not when he’d made a point of blatantly disregarding them up until now.
So where was he?
The sound of masculine grunts pulled her attention, and Effie moved to sit along the benches set in the far back of the room, her curiosity piqued. Ronan was one of the best warriors she’d ever known, but the Guardian had been fighting since long before he was born. This was a match worth watching.
Both men were shirtless, sweat dripping down their heavily muscled bodies. Ronan’s red hair was tied up in a sloppy knot, strands sticking to his forehead and neck as he swung a fist at Kael’s face.
Kael dropped and spun, his own arm pulling back to strike Ronan in the ribs, but the Shield anticipated the move and was dropping his elbow into Kael’s back, just above his kidney. Kael grunted and staggered, his knee dropping to the mat.
“That’s a point and the match,” Ronan whooped.
“I’m still recovering,” Kael muttered, rising. “Don’t think this was a fair fight.”
Ronan grinned, his blue eyes glittering like shards of ice. “Anytime you want a rematch, just let me know.”
“Count on it,” Kael said as they grasped forearms.
“My turn,” Lucian said, pushing away from the wall and striding to the center of the room.
“I was hoping you’d step up,” Ronan said with a dangerous grin.
Effie’s brows flew up. Only a man with a death wish—or Ronan—would willingly face off against Lucian’s brute strength.
Her Guardian pulled off his tunic and tossed it to the floor. Effie’s stomach swooped as she greedily drank in the sight of all that tanned skin on display. He’d always been an imposing figure due to his sheer size, but she’d had no idea what he had been hiding beneath his clothes.
Lucian’s body looked like it had been sculpted from grani
te, each part of him perfectly cut and defined. The muscles in his upper arms were twice the size of Ronan’s, which didn’t seem like it should even be possible. As it was, both of her hands could span just one of his pecs.
Effie shook her head. Lucian couldn’t possibly be human. He was a giant.
Eyes dropping lower, she started to count the bunches of muscles stacked down the center of his stomach, following each ripple until her eyes reached the defined vee that trailed down into the dark leather covering his hips.
“Mother’s tits,” she whispered, feeling light-headed.
“I think you mean Lucian’s dick,” Kael snickered, plopping down beside her.
Effie blinked and shook her head, not even pretending she wasn’t shamelessly ogling her Guardian. “Mother have mercy, I’ve forgotten my name.”
Kael laughed harder. “One would think you’d never seen a shirtless man the way you’re carrying on.”
She’d dropped her eyes to Kael’s bared torso. “There’s shirtless men, and then there’s that,” she said, purposefully returning her gaze to Lucian.
“I’m going to tell him you said so.”
“You’re going to give him an even bigger ego than he already has if you do.”
“Fair point,” Kael murmured as Lucian and Ronan moved into their starting stances.
Effie’s breath caught as she waited for the first strike. She’d seen Lucian fight before, but it had always been while she was in the middle of trying not to die. Seeing him now, with nothing to distract her, was like watching art in motion. Each move was flawlessly executed with a grace and speed that was unmatched.
Ronan quickly lost his smug smile as he had to work hard to defend himself from the blows Lucian was raining down with incredible precision.
Thank the Mother they were fighting without weapons. Even with a blunted blade, Effie didn’t think Ronan would walk away without a series of new scars. Lucian was brutal; striking hard and fast while Ronan was unable to successfully land a single blow of his own.
Beside her Kael was chuckling.
Effie’s eyes cut to him briefly before returning to the fight. “What’s so funny?”
“Lucian’s toying with him.”
