I snort. “I’m sure he’s dying to hear from me after two months of silence.” Though the words come out recklessly, the silence that follows is sobering.Two months.It’s hard to believe it’s been that long since I sailed away from Jahlee and Kai. Since his voice played in my ear and his hands caressed my body. My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing him again. Of explaining why I haven’t reached out to him. That it had nothing to do withnotwanting to talk to him. Yet I wonder, even if the Mirror had never broken, if I would have hesitated. If my cowardice still would have manifested in pretending that I didn’t miss him. That I didn’t think about him every single day and wonder, somewhat pathetically, if I didn’t also still occupy his thoughts. Or maybe I just simply hope thatifhe thinks of me, it isn’t tainted with the betrayal of my lies.
“Bahira.”
Nox’s voice permeates my thoughts, and I blink them away as I focus back on my brother. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“If it’s anything about the shifter king and that doe-eyed look you just had, I think I’m good.”
“Asshole,” I mutter, turning to face him as my heart pounds in my chest. “The reason I came home from the Shifter Kingdom early was because when I tried to reach out through the Mirror, no one answered.”
Nox gives me a confused look. “Right, because Father and I had been summoned by the council to go to Palatos. Though the council never said anything about King Kai attempting to reach us when we returned.”
Gods, that is another thing the council must have done purposefully. “The reason I reached out through the Mirror in the first place was because of a shifter who showed up on the island. Her name is Siyala.” I wait for any kind of recognition to pass over his face, but he only furrows his brow. “She is thecousin of the king and had been missing for four years. When she showed up that day, she revealed that she had been trapped in the Mortal Kingdom.”
He cocks his head in question. “How? That’s impossible.”
“It should be, and she didn’t have an answer for that, but her main concern wasn’t that she had somehow survived crossing over the Spell or that she had just returned home. She was most worried about the woman she lived with while in the Mortal Kingdom. One who she said was now in the Mage Kingdom.” I swallow, my eyes holding his as my heart beats harshly. “Nox, she knew Rhea.”
“No. Rhea lived completely isolated. There’s no way—” His mouth snaps shut as his eyes widen, a hand brushing through his hair. “She is a shifter?” he clarifies.
I nod slowly, my gaze searching his. “Yes.”
“Fucking gods above,” he murmurs, a small smile beginning to grow. “She’s alive. Bella isalive.”
Chapter Eighty-Nine: Daje
Itwasaboutthreedays into our journey that I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t meant for traveling. I wasn’t meant for spending long days riding on a horse only to then sleep in a shitty inn for a few hours at night. I wasn’t made for quick meals of dried meat, fruit, and nuts while the only warm food came from equally shitty taverns. And Icertainlywasn’t made for close quarters with a man who drove me up a fucking wall and a woman who I couldn’t ever tell if she was teasing or flirting with me.
But here I am, getting ready to end our fourth day of nearly nonstop riding with yet another stay at an inn where I’d likely have to share a bed with Cass and his cover-hogging tendencies. I never thought I could miss something as simple as a soft towel. Or a meal that wasn’t a questionable stew. Or,fuck, peace andquiet.
“At least it isn’t raining today,” Elora says, and for a moment, I worry I’ve spoken my grievances out loud. My gaze tracks over her braided red hair where it hangs down her back, some strandshaving come loose from the plait. My magic coils beneath my skin like it’s on the alert, perked up by Elora’s signature in a way that won’t let me forget just how close she is to me.
“Let’s hope that streak continues once we cross over the border,” Cass replies from our left, his horse choosing that moment to whinny as if in agreement.
True enough, the rain had been a constant companion the closer we grew to the north. It is expected in the late autumn season, but its predictability didn’t change the fact that traveling in the rain is also another thing I wasn’t meant for.
We continue on, riding in a silence that is all at once comfortable andnot. Adapting to not speaking for long periods of time didn’t come naturally to either Cass or Elora, though at least the latter didn’t send covert, suggestive glances my way. My conversation with the prick back at the first inn had played on repeat in my mind until I was begging any gods that might hear my pleas to have mercy on me.
It isn’t necessarily that I don’twantElora’s attention, nor is it that I find her anything other than lovely. It’s that, frustratingly, I know Cass is right. She doesn’t deserve someone only capable of being partially invested in whatever might be blossoming between us. Bahira still occupies a portion of my mind that is tangled up in the space between oldest friend and longest yearning. Though she and I had never truly aligned on when those feelings blurred between the two, a part of me had hoped—for far too long—that, eventually, we would find common ground. That there was enough of myself embedded in that steel chest of hers that she might one day see me in the same way I saw her: magnificent. Stunning. She was the chaos of a wild hurricane, and I was the eye of the storm, able to withstand her strength.
In theory, us falling together should have been inevitable. In actuality, it was anything but.
I had thought cutting her out of my life like a frayed thread on a tapestry would be for the best. But the problem, I have found, is that the thread I snipped was merely a portion of the one deeply woven within me. And what remains isn’t something so easily ignored. Even if I am starting to view it differently than I had before.
I love Bahira, yet that love can mean many things. Something that I foolishly have taken much too long to finally accept.
“Finally.” Elora’s sigh of relief as she spots our stop for the evening makes a small grin tug on my lips. “I swear on all the gods, dead and alive, that I will never again travel outside of my small bubble.”
“Is swearing on dead gods going to do anything?” I ask, enjoying her snort as her head bobbles from side to side.
“Probably not, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to include them.”
“That’s the sort of legacy I want,” Cass chimes in, tightening his hold on the reins as he urges his horse to slow. “Someone to find me so powerful that swearing on me, even in death, is good luck.”
“I’m afraid the road to being elevated to feared deity is quite difficult. Especially if you aren’t born into it,” Elora teases, and I huff a breath, mentally scowling at the retort I know Cass is going to supply.
“Quite a few people have likened me to a god, though the context was alittledifferent.”
Elora tilts her head back to laugh, brushing against my chest with the movement. Her scent—cinnamon and vanilla—laces my next inhale. Once again, my stupid body reacts before I tell it to, and my fingers curl into her hip. But if it bothers Elora, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she looks over her shoulder at me, a smirk tugging on her pink lips.
