“The rebels have called an emergency meeting. It’s about you.”
5
By the time Franco flies us to Selene Palace and sets me on my feet outside the palace doors, my stomach is a roiling mess. And it isn’t just from soaring terrifying heights in the sky; my panic stems more from anxious anticipation. Anything could have happened in my absence. Anything could have prompted this mysterious meeting, and none of my imagined causes are good.
As soon as the doors open, Nyxia is standing before us, arms crossed over her chest. Like always, she’s dressed in a way that is stunning, eccentric, and elegant all at once. Her top is like a waistcoat, but it’s composed entirely of small, black beads, and she wears nothing underneath. Her trousers are skintight silk that show off every curve and muscle of her long, slim legs. As she stands there staring daggers at me, I can’t help but wonder if one of her owl messengers announced our arrival or if she’s been waiting here endlessly for dramatic effect. I wouldn’t put the latter past her.
“And hello to you too, sister.” Franco greets the queen with a crooked smile, but she ignores him, her eyes fixed on me.
“Look who decided to show up,” the Lunar Queen says, running a hand through her hair. That’s when I realize her short silver strands are wet, as if she’s recently stepped out of the bath. “Where in the name of iron have you been?”
I open my mouth, but all air is stripped from my lungs as I glimpse the figure strolling down the hall toward us.
My heart lurches, first from the joy at seeing Aspen. Even though I was unconscious of the passage of time when I was stuck in my fox form, my absence from him suddenly comes crashing down on me, the space between us a painful and tangible thing I want to destroy at once. I dart toward him, but my steps falter, my heart lurching a second time as I take in his appearance.
Aspen’s face is splattered with what looks like dried blood, smears of dirt crisscrossing his forehead. His russet shirt is filthy and torn, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal bloodstained forearms. Only his hands appear clean. I finish closing the distance between us, my throat tight as my fingers reach his face, seeking signs of injury.
Before I can prod him further, he stills my fluttering hands with his. “I’m fine.” His tone is gentle as his eyes drink in mine. I can feel his relief at seeing me surging through the Bond between us.
I lower my hands and rest them on his chest, over the caked dirt and blood. “What in the name of iron happened?”
“There was a skirmish at the border between Solar and Lunar,” he says. “It was nothing.”
From his state of dress, I highly doubt that’s true.
“It really was nothing,” comes Nyxia’s airy voice. “Just like every other minor skirmish they’ve attempted this past week. Do they honestly think they’re intimidating us, sending their pathetic soldiers to feign an attack only to flee at the first draw of blood? The royals don’t even have the decency to show their faces and fight us themselves.”
Aspen ignores Nyxia, eyes still locked on me. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine—”
“What in the name of night are you wearing?” Nyxia has come up beside me and my mate, gaze burning into the length of my gown. Franco trails behind her, lips pulled into a grimace. “Is that…”
Aspen pulls away slightly, just far enough to study my dress. Guilt burns a hole in my heart as Aspen’s eyes turn steely. “Human clothing,” he mutters, and the scorn laced into those two words can only be met with my fire.
“So what if it is?” I say, lifting my chin in defiance.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Franco says under his breath as he inches away from us. After an exaggerated bow, he shifts into his raven form and takes flight down the hall.
Nyxia beams at me and Aspen. One would think she was oblivious to the tension rippling between us, but I know she’s probably relishing in the energy we’re emitting. She almost sounds disappointed when she says, “I suppose I should make sure everyone is ready for the meeting. Don’t take too long.”
Aspen’s eyes don’t leave mine as Nyxia exits the corridor. I force myself not to waver beneath his glare, knowing if I do, he’ll see all the guilt I’m hiding inside.
“You promised me you’d stay safe,” Aspen finally says. “In turn, you made me promise not to seek you through the Bond. You said you needed time to be alone. Time to heal. You lied.”
I lift my chin. “I didn’t lie.”
“Since when is setting foot on human soil while we’re at war consideredstaying safe?”
I feel a ripple of hurt through the Bond, and it isn’t mine. It’s enough to extinguish some of the fire in my veins. My shoulders slump, and I break his gaze, eyes resting on his chest. “I’m sorry.”
He runs a hand over his face, smearing the dirt and dried blood. His expression softens. “We’ll talk later.” There’s only a hint of resignation mixing with the frustration in his tone, telling me this conversation is far from over. He turns away and motions for me to follow. “Let’s join the meeting.”
“What’s this about?” I ask as I hurry to his side.
“We’ll find out,” is all he says.
Icy silence falls between us, but I walk with my head held high.
