Rallorival came out of the bathroom, looking pleased to find her waiting for him. Lena ignored his smile and shoved past him to enter the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She didn't speak to him when she came out, but she followed him out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen. Rallorival's friends were there, seated around a large wooden table, plates of food before them. They tensed when they saw her.
“She's agreed not to scream,” Rallorival said as he led Lena to an open chair.
Lena sat down, glancing at the door. It had a padlock on it. Rallorival took the chair on her right. As he poured himself a glass of water, an Aethari woman set a plate of food before Lena while a man filled a glass with water and set that beside theplate. Lena looked at them, then at Rallorival. He was already eating.
The food looked good, and Lena's stomach rumbled. Hunger won out over wariness. She bent over her plate and ate rapidly, eyes shifting side-to-side.
“How did you do that?” a woman asked.
She was the one who had made Lena's plate, filling it from a pan on the stove. A dark red braid hung down her back, a sharp contrast to her white wings. She had to be the one Rallorival had called Cira.
Lena shoved food in her mouth and glanced at the woman.
“Your screams. They weren't natural,” Cira went on. “We searched you for a convergence, but you're clean. So, how did you do that? Only speakers can do shit like that.”
Lena frowned until she realized Cira wasn't talking about speakers like those found on vidcos or music players. She meant speakers as in the Aethari religious leaders whospokewith the voice of the Source of Magic. Every flying city had one, and they were held in high regard. Lena knew little more than that, even though Thaxvarien's father was the Speaker of Icara. She'd only spoken to the man for a few minutes when after their introduction. However, Lena knew Speakers were powerful. Thaxvarien was a new type of speaker who could command people with his voice. Lena wasn't Aethari or a speaker, but her voice held power. Could she use it to command as Thaxvarien did?
“I don't know what you're talking about. I just screamed as any woman might when attacked.” Lena went back to eating, trying to look unaffected while her thoughts churned.
A dark-haired man with golden-brown wings sent Rallorival a worried look. Rallorival glared back. Interesting. Lena tucked that information away in case it might be useful.
“That wasn't an ordinary scream,” the other woman—a brunette with black wings—said. “You converged your voice. That must be it.”
“I'm a singer and a musician.” Lena gave the woman a scathing look. “My voice is powerful because I've trained it. I'm only a passable converger. Ask my sister—she's the destra of your leader. Oh, wait. You betrayed him when you shot down his erial and captured me.”
The Aethari grimaced. All but Rallorival, who chuckled.
“It's not betrayal when you follow the call of the bond,” Rallorival said. “Thaxvarien commanded me to stay away from you.That'sbetrayal. He betrayed the Source of Magic and me. It's a crime to interfere with a destiny bond.”
“I am not your destra, you fucking lunatic,” Lena said calmly.
Rallorival slapped her.
Lena jerked with the hit while the other Aethari gasped, Cira shooting to her feet with a snarl.
Rallorival ignored them and leaned close to Lena to say, “Do not disrespect me or our bond, Lena. I'm sorry I hit you again, but you need to learn your place.”
“Learnher place?!” Cira shouted. “What the fuck, Rall? No one treats their destra like that. I'm beginning to think we made a mistake in helping you.”
Rallorival held up his hands in surrender. “Easy, now. I'm her destru. I know what she needs, and Lena needs a firm hand until she understands who she is. She's Medean. She doesn't know what it means to be a destra.”
Lena snorted. “My sister did just fine.”
“Your sister was already dating Thaxvarien when they established their bond. That Nethren has hypnotized you, and now I must free you of his hold.”
“Rallorival, you're my friend, but I won't stand by and watch you abuse a woman,” the black-haired man said. “It's wrong. That she's your destra makes it even worse.”
Lena returned to eating, trying to hide her grin. The slap had been worth it to see them fight.
“Fine.” Rallorival held up his hands. “I won't hit her again. I'm merely trying to snap her out of that Nethren's mind control.”
“Nethren can't control minds,” a blond man with black wings said. “You aren't making sense.”
“What is this?” Rallorival sat back. “You all know me. You know I'm not lying. She's mine.”
“Maybe you've confused attraction with the draw of a destra,” another man said.
“I am not confused!”
