by Maia Starr
I wondered if I’d finally found the perfect life: the perfect man and an ideal job helping people… or was my life just a little too perfectly packaged?
I was almost certain that Galsthenn had my heart… but I couldn’t let him let go. He could never just be. He couldn’t accept himself as a shifter, or at the very least it had become some sort of passing thought that he didn’t dwell on.
But to me it was everything.
Were sparks subjected only to the beginnings of relationships, or were people just willing to settle without the spark in order to be comfortable? Rilark was all lightning: all spark. But, was that only so because I couldn’t have him? If all the while I had been living with him instead of his brother, would I feel just as confused?
I didn’t know anything anymore. Did I betray Galsthenn because I felt trapped… or was that just my excuse? It was my pattern. Once out of a relationship, the comfortable stage was where I desperately wanted to get back to, and when I finally got there, I was bored.
Rilark called me a slut when I told him that. It hurt me, but I wasn’t sure if I disagreed with him.
My sister told me to go for whatever I wanted, and it seemed that I, stupidly, clung to her advice no matter what the situation. Education, love. Especially love. I couldn’t keep living like a teenager. I couldn’t keep bouncing from man to man, especially not now.
I cringed inwardly.
There seemed to be a union between myself and Galsthenn. A marriage, of sorts. That terrified me and made me feel whole in one fell swoop. He seemed to be perfectly content and never questioned our relationship. And why should he? We got along famously, shared the same interests. But… could two people really evolve together, especially at such a young age when there was still so much changing to be done?
Then again, do people ever stop changing?
“My Rosalyn,” Galsthenn said gently as came to bed, a kind smile covering his face. “I can’t believe you’re still awake.”
He never did come to Vennolyn’s Tomb.
“I guess the…” I twirled my finger in the air, searching for any excuse. “The time difference has got me all spun around.”
“Poor thing,” he said, reaching down below the covers and slipping in beside me. I could feel his body heat radiate against mine, and I wondered if he could smell Rilark on me. “But I’m glad you had a good time,” he cooed; whispered in my ear. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I smiled and touched his face.
His hand crept down my shorts and hovered there as though waiting for permission; he kissed my neck softly and I pushed his hand down. Just do it, I thought hastily. If he could just touch me, maybe that would take it all away.
He crawled under the sheets and moved his head between my legs, staying down there until I grabbed hold of his shoulders and brought him back up. He entered me in the slow, sweet way we’d grown accustomed and I felt no sexual fever: no sexual gratification. I’d been spoiled by another. But at that moment, I felt something Rilark could never give me: love. I felt the love and comfort from the man I’d chosen to be with until the day I died, and that was enough.
Galsthenn could last a long time, a fact I’d loved in the beginning and loved even more now. I never over-exaggerated a moan or thought to fake it with him. I just enjoyed myself. I relished the moments where he whispered sweet nothings to me and was grateful he never grew frustrated with me.
He kissed me with slow thrusts of his tongue, and I finally felt a spark heat up between my legs. I reached up and grabbed his back, careful to avoid the spires of his wings and not to do anything that might make him uncomfortable.
I was just starting to feel the throbs of pleasure building up in me when he started coming. I exhaled loudly at the poor timing, already feeling my passions growing cold once more. But there was hope now, I thought.
He held me there after and collapsed into our heap of sweat and love, kissing me and asking me about the festival in Vennolyn. He asked me to repeat their stories and tales, and I did so with enthusiasm, making sure to recollect my favorite moments and tell them to him as though he could say he was there.
“I hope Rilark took care of you while you were away.”
The thought was so sweet and simple, but it made me jump all the same. Did he know?
I looked over at him curiously and then offered a half smile. “Of course, all the soldiers were attentive. They made me feel secure. Not as secure as this,” I gushed, kissing his fingers individually.
“But he spoke to you?” he paused.
“Well, of course he did,” I said with some confusion. “Why?”
“I want him to like you, Rosalyn.”
I stared at my partner in disbelief. “Oh,” I exhaled.
“I guess I should have mentioned this sooner… but he’s sort of, well, my brother.”
“Oh,” I repeated numbly.
My stomach sank down to the souls of my feet and suddenly I felt as though my toes were just skimming the surface of reality. I tried to think of any similar features or anything that might have tied the two together, and then it hit me. My little bro. Rilark had said it before the bombing and it’d all been a blur since then.
My heart felt heavy, and guilt washed over me in overwhelming breaths. Not only had I cheated on my love, but it was with his brother.
“It’s a long, complicated story. I’m surprised he hasn’t told you himself.” He shrugged sadly. “Our mother… she was taken by rebels when she first met and impregnated at their camp. My father spared him, and my mother insisted we were raised as friends; she took him into the palace and… loved him. All that.”
I blinked in desperate need to hear more and urged him on, “Did you?”
“Love him?” He laughed, despite himself. “Of course. He was my brother. I knew no different; we were children.”
“And now?”
He grabbed my hand into his and slowly wrapped his fingers around mine, taking our hands up and kissing my wrist. “Of course I do. But, that ship has sailed.”
My stomach flipped. If it hadn’t already, it certainly had now.
“Why?”
“He… well, look at him. He’s a soldier. He hasn’t exactly led a life of luxury. I spent my entire life trying to get his attention and his love. But he grew embittered toward my father and…” The white shifter trailed off, seeming lost and thick with emotion. “And me I guess,” he finished. “And I don’t blame him in the least. But I’ll always want the best for him. It’s why I gave him a job as security to some of the most important men on the planet.” He kissed me. “And the most important woman.”
“Right,” I said breathlessly. “Right… and when your mother was taken, was she… I mean, was it an affair?”
Galsthenn swallowed in surprise and looked at me with narrowed brows. “That’s an indelicate thing to ask, about my mother no less.”
“Sorry…” I said stupidly. “I didn’t mean to imply, uh… I just meant, I wondered how long she was in the rebel camp?”
“Are you accusing my mother of being a part of the rebellion?” He laughed, hard. “No, my Rosalyn. I don’t think you have anything to worry about there.”
“What about Rilark?” I asked quietly. I’d seen enough to know something was amiss with him. During the bombing, especially. He was so calm and controlled; I knew in my soul that he knew that attack was coming.
“Hm…” Galsthenn shrugged and pulled me closer to him. “He’s dabbled.”
My eyes went wide with shock at the confirmation, and I stammered, “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Of course it does, but they were harmless, empty errands. Do I believe he’d feed them information? No, of course not. He’s no threat. Besides, wouldn’t you want to know who your father was? That’s the simplest way to find out; to try and connect to something that was a part of you.”
“Is his father still alive?”
He stared and shook his head. “My father made sure of tha
t.”
I gave a nod. “Does your father know… about Rilark?”
“No!” he said. “And we won’t tell him that unless we desire Rilark’s head on a pike. Understand?”
I giggled nervously. “Got it.”
Our conversation waned after that with Galsthenn taking up a book and reading my favorite poetry to me before slowly drifting off to sleep. I watched him and reveled in the comfort of his arms once again. It was as though nothing had ever happened. Everything would be all right so long as I was right here with him.
How badly did Galsthenn need to know the truth? The thought kept me awake for the rest of the night. I felt I loved Galsthenn more now than I ever had. So if it was really over… if I knew I’d never repeat my past mistakes, did I really need to tell my mate, just to relieve a guilty conscience with hopes of forgiveness?
No, I decided. No, I didn’t.
Chapter Eleven
Rilark
“It isn’t finished!” Rosalyn objected as I reached forward to snatch Galsthenn's upcoming speech to the rebels. She, of course, was offering to read it for him while secretly spending all her time with me. She batted my hand with the paper and finally let the paper lay on the conference room table.
We'd been in the Koth building for hours. We'd spent weeks where I had to follow her around, guarding her and trying not to put my hands all over her. I knew she thought so long as we were here, I wouldn't touch her, but she was wrong.
“Fine,” she said and crossed her arms playfully, “just don’t read it out loud.”
I smiled and skimmed through the speech, first rolling my eyes at what I read until slowly taking a solemn expression. Rosalyn wrung her hands twice in nervous anticipation, all but biting her lip with antsy discomfort, knowing he was judging her thoughts. She assumed he didn’t even get through half of it when he leaned forward and flopped it back onto her lap.
He resumed his former position and rose and eyebrow; his expression sullen.
“Well?” She giggled.
“Well, I find this odd,” I confessed.
She stared at me curiously, and I continued, “I’m reading the words of your chosen when all I want to do is get you wet.”
“Rilark,” she protested fiercely.
“You think I won’t take you here?” I dared.
“I think you shouldn’t, and it’s dangerous and there are a hundred other reasons why it’s a bad idea.” She looked around the room nervously and moved away from my side. “Are you afraid to have a real conversation with me? Can we have one interaction that doesn’t end with us ripping each other’s clothes off?” She laughed in frustration and for the first time I felt it; jealousy.
“You saving it for Galsthenn?”
“Pardon?” she asked indignantly, but we both knew she heard me.
I inhaled strongly and looked up at her. “Well,” I repeated, seeming unsure how to proceed.
“Rilark,” she said with a sigh, and my ears perked up. “Do you think I’m a good person?” she asked in earnest. The matter seemed to consume her, the right thing to her always seeming hidden amongst complications and confusions that life offered to the table. I knew she wanted a reason for me to validate her feelings for me, but I wasn’t about to do that.
“What does it matter?” I said simply.
She frowned. “Because it does,” she responded with just as much importance to her tone as she had prior. “It matters a lot. Integrity, purity…”
“Nobody’s pure,” I interrupted. “Why’s it so important to you? You got a guilty conscience?”
“I guess I’m trying to rationalize some things, yeah.” She gave a light sigh that held no intentions of growing annoyed with me, for once, and continued: “It is because… I guess it’s just how I gauge someone’s intentions.”
“You mean it’s how you judge them,” I snapped matter-of-factly.
She shook her head and seemed slightly flustered as she stammered, “No. It’s just how I determine the quality of–”
“It’s how you judge them.”
“You’re being irreverent.”
“Snarky.”
“Crass,” she corrected.
I crossed his arms behind his head and gave a cool laugh. “We’re having a battle of words.
“Seriously, Rilark,” she huffed, her frustration coming through now but only lightly. “I’m trying to ask you about something I think is important, and I really want to know what you think, and you’re just teasing me,” she said while shaking her head and looking down into her lap flustered as she uncrossed her legs and smoothed out her skirt
“You wanna know how I gauge what goodness is?” I asked, puzzled as she nodded impatiently, raising her brows. “Or you want me to say that you’re not a good person so you can have even more reason to judge yourself?”
“You think that’s what I’m doing?”
“Well, aren’t you? Am I supposed to say you’re some worthless adulteress and you’re–”
“Screwing over your brother?”
I blanched at the statement and backed away from her, smiling in surprise at her sentiment. Was this just her set up? “So he told you.”
“Why didn’t you?” she shouted, smacking my chest hard with her hand. “I thought we were… I don’t know. I thought you would tell me that, at least!” I stared her down; feeling suddenly vulnerable and hating every minute of it. “And do you know that he knows you’ve,” she leaned in close to my face and whispered angrily, “helped the rebels?”
“Shh!” I insisted and lowered my hands, telling her to hush.
“I just said he already knows!” she scoffed.
“And… and what?” I paled. “He’s doing nothing?”
“He said that he loves you and that he knows you’re not a threat,” she said, her voice going thick with guilt and her hazel eyes glowing with questions unasked. I knew what she wanted; she wanted me to demonize her or excuse her, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do either.
My mind was racing. Why would he tell her that?
“And I’m supposed to feel bad about this?”
“You’re supposed to feel… something,” she instructed gingerly, her hands caressing my arms now as I knelt in front of her feeling like an idiot.
“What do you want me to say? That I feel bad? You want to take me down with you?” I laughed, and she waited endlessly for a response. “I feel bad.” And it was true. “Happy?”
“Delirious.”
“So, are you going to let me touch you, or what?” I demanded; my brows furrowing deeply at the woman and my hand poised under her skirt.
“Admit it,” she demanded.
“That I’ve done work for the rebels?” My eyes glanced the room over, and I shrugged unwillingly. “Fine.”
“No,” she shook her head, and that familiar tease filled her eyes. “Admit that you like me. As more than just a toy.”
I gave a whispered laugh and shook my head, reaching my hand into her underwear and relishing the game as she gripped my arm, digging her nails into my scales. “Aren’t we supposed to be having fun?”
“Yeah,” she relented with a devilish smile. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t like me.”
“Fine.” I felt the heat of her and sighed, reaching up with my free hand and drawing her lips down to mine. I kissed her, nipping at her lip as our lips parted and admitted, “I like you.”
Chapter Twelve
Rosalyn
It was the most awkward morning ever in the history of mornings. We’d spent hours in the boardroom discussing the fate of the rebellion. In truth, I hadn’t been paying much attention to the politics on Udora, which made me feel even worse as this emergency meeting was called.
What made the morning particularly unbearable was the fact that, not only was this my first meeting with the Koth, but it was being had with myself, Galsthenn, his parents, the Koth, the advisors, and my lover taking a spot firmly behind me.
As the meeting drew to a close,
the counsel seemed certain that they were going to storm the rebel camp, that they were going to go to war.
The counsel left the room until just myself, my mate, Rilark, and Grayna were left. The worst part, I thought, was how much Gaslthenn seemed to enjoy talking to Rilark. He offered him a spot on the counsel as soon as he took his official position and Rilark said he’d think about it. Then the pair went back and forth in a tizzy of ideas on how to make the rebels back down.
My mate soon took his leave as well, and I could feel the fiery energy in the room as there were only three of us left.
I watched as Grayna shut the door when my love left the room and clicked the lock behind her. She looked to me and then to Rilark and suddenly my heart was in my throat. I watched as she took careful steps across the boardroom and poured three small glass of liquor before passing them over to us.
“I heard a ship carrying more laser weapons was turned away at port,” he said slowly, his eyes turning up to Grayna. “Any idea what that’s about?”
“Yes,” she said, casually inspecting her glass for smudges and stains. “They were suspected rebel sympathizers. We had to turn them away.”
Rilark frowned, suddenly furious. “Why?”
“Because they belong to the rebels and we’re in a war with the rebels, if you hadn’t remembered.”
Rilark regarded his mom curiously and then raised his brows in a half playful, half annoyed manner as he mused, “Ah, that explains who I’ve been fighting all these years. Thanks for clearing that up.” He scoffed.
Grayna swirled her drink in her hand with curiosity and rubbed her forehead in frustration for the conversation to come. “It has to end.”
“Isn’t that the point of the whole impending war thing?”
“You two,” she confirmed, her eyes flicking between us. “It has to end.”
“Mother,” he snapped and looked at me fiercely. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Unfortunately, I think I do.” She walked over to her son and knelt before him, pleading for his life in her eyes. Her intensity was contagious, and suddenly I found myself at the edge of my seat as she grabbed his hands with urgency. “My son, I love you, as I love your brother. Please, don’t do this to me. Don’t make me watch you die if this carries on.”
