The fire elementals would fly with me to the Glade so I could question Ailis further about the journal, whilethe others remained behind. Cleo didn’t want to stay with Pehper, but Nash convinced her—with the promise of more time to share stories of Laney’s life before Mageia.
Once we uncovered more about the journals, we could decipher what their existence meant—and finally form a plan to protect the Mareki from Tyria before it was too late.
I opened the door wider and stepped aside. Rhodes’s presence filled the small space, but his attention didn’t leave me.
“I can’t sense her,” I murmured.
His stormy eyes flashed. “I can’t sense Shayde either,” he said, low. “But that portal… it was rare magic. I’m trying to believe it simply disrupted ourmarekem.”
It made enough sense for me to cling to it. I nodded, choosing to believe.
Rhodes drifted to the chest of drawers and ran a finger along the spines of the novels he’d given me when we first returned to the Hollow. His brow lifted as he looked back—dark hair falling into his eyes, the familiar warmth in his gaze reserved only for me. Heat crept into my cheeks.
“Have you not been reading?” he asked.
I shook my head and sank onto the foot of the bed. “It doesn’t feel fair… to Laney,” I admitted.
Rhodes shrugged off his satchel and set down his sword before settling beside me. The familiar scent of cashmere sandalwood and vanilla wrapped around me, pulling me closer. I wanted to bury my face in his neck and pretend everything was right in the world—but I fought the urge.
“I think she’d want you to finish it,” he said. “She was the one who got you started on it, wasn’t she?”
I swallowed and nodded.
Rhodes stretched his arm, his hand gliding across the sheets behind me. My eyes followed the movement, the memory of his arm around me pulling me back to the second time we had truly been together. I clenched my thighs.
“Don’t think of it as reading her favorite series without her…” His voice became low and somber. “Think of it as reading it for her.”
My chest tightened. I closed my eyes to hold back tears, but the sting built anyway. “I miss her,” I whispered.
“I know you do. But she’s not gone.” I shook my head, incredulous, and kept my eyes closed as he continued. “Delaney’s with you every day. In your heart. She’d be that stubborn friend who refuses to be forgotten.”
A quiet laugh escaped me as I wiped away a stray tear. “You’re right about that.”
“I’m right about a lot of things,” he said, smirking.
I huffed and shot him a look.
“And what have I been wrong about?” he teased.
I lifted a finger to my lips, pretending to think. “That I’m a thorn in your side.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m wrong about that?”
“You meant it as a bad thing. Like you couldn’t get rid of me.”
He opened his mouth to protest; I pressed a palm over his lips.
He kissed it.
I jerked back, startled.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely silenced”—he clicked his tongue, glancing at the ceiling—“you were, are, and will always be a thorn in my side.” His stormy eyes found mine again, crooked smile playing. “My prickly little thorn—and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I gasped dramatically, turning to face him and lifting one knee until it rested against his chest. Rhodes wrapped an arm around my leg with ease, holding me there like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“I am not prickly,” I said, mock-offended.
This time his laugh was deep and unfiltered—the kind that echoed in my chest and made my smile impossible to hide. His arm tightened around my knee.
