When my gaze finally travels up to his eyes, they burn back at me—fiery pools of amber that sear my soul. Raven reaches up with a large hand that belies the gentleness of his fingertips brushing across my cheekbone.“This is not the life I had hoped for.”
The memory hits me, sharp and unrelenting, forcing a shuddering breath from my chest. I close my eyes, gathering the scattered pieces of my emotions and forcing them back into the locked box in my mind where they belong. “Why did you bring me here?” I ask when I feel I have some semblance of control.
“I want you to tell me what you see.”
Exhaling, I brush away the stray locks of hair the wind has pulled loose from my braid, feeling the warm air kiss my skin as I open my eyes and look ahead, surveying the Sorrows. The pale light dancing upon the whitewashed buildings, illuminating their curves and contours. The quaint, blue-domed roofs dotting the landscape seem to come alive, their vibrant hues contrasting against the dark night sky.
A gentle breeze carries the scent of the sea and blooming flowers toward us, and it whispers a word into my ear.
Home.
“When we leave here, I want you to remember why we do what we do,” he says, even though I didn’t answer him out loud. “I want you to remember that it’s not about us, it’s about our kingdom. Our people.Your people.”
I don’t know how to respond. Anger was easier—it was something I could hold on to, something that felt solid and tangible. But this…
My gaze lingers on the isles spread out beneath us, the shimmer of moonlight against the familiar rooftops, the curve of the ocean beyond.
There was a time when I believed in what he was saying. When duty wasn’t something I resisted but something I embraced—even if it was only to earn my father’s approval. But now, as I stand here with Raven’s words pressing down on me, all I feel is the weight of everything I’ve lost for the sake of this duty.
How many more sacrifices will it demand of me? How many more pieces of myself will I have to carve away before I become a hollow shell of obedience?
I close my eyes, forcing myself to breathe as the weight of his words settles like a mantle on my shoulders.
One day I’ll prove I’m strong enough to bear it.
I tilt my face towardthe sun as it crests on the horizon, casting rose-pink streaks against the blooming dawn. The sky stretches wide and nearly cloudless, with only a few soft, fluffy shapes drifting lazily over the distant Solorai Sea. Yet the water churns restlessly against the docks, as if a hidden creature stirs just beneath the surface.
It feels like only yesterday I was in this same harbor, but the week since Nyssa and I were Named has slipped by in a blur of preparation and restless nights. I’ll miss the summer sun—the feel of it warming my skin. All those times I cursed Notos for making our kingdom so gods-damned hot, and now I wish I hadn’t taken it for granted.
With a bitter laugh under my breath, I turn away.
Beside me, Nyssa buzzes with excitement as we perch on a pair of barrels at the northern edge of the harbor, watching the morning bustle of Elotia coming to life. The isle is alive with energy, its residents moving with purpose in the humid morning air. Early fishermen are bringing in their catch of the day, horse-drawn carts line the harbor, and deckhands rush back and forth, hauling cargo and preparing ships to set sail.
“I think they should try looking less serious,” Nyssa muses, and I turn to follow her line of sight.
My gaze locks with Raven’s first, but as his eyes hold mine, I shift my focus to the others with him. All of them—except for Lark—move toward us with a predatory intensity, sharp eyes scanning theirsurroundings. Though their clothing blends in with the crowd, and Lark’s lips curl with a hint of mischief, an undeniable air of danger clings to them, impossible to ignore.
Earlier in the week, Nyssa and I were introduced to the rest of Alpha Flight. Now, as they approach, Myna stands to Raven’s left—a striking, deadly presence. Her sharp gaze sweeps across the crowd, her midnight hair flowing in the wind. She notices me looking and smiles, the motion drawing my attention to the small scar on her lower lip—the only imperfection on her luminous, deep brown skin. Awe had struck both Nyssa and me when we met her. Myna is renowned in the Aviary as one of the most skilled Songbirds. She has a talent for sneaking into even the most guarded of places.
Heron, a striking man with flowing chestnut hair, olive-brown skin, and razor-sharp cheekbones, walks beside her. When he introduced himself earlier, his terse demeanor swiftly shattered any fleeting fantasies I had of us bonding over sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair.
Then there’s Lory—the youngest of our group, save for Nyssa and me. He reminds me of Lark, only with tousled, light brown curls and a smattering of freckles on his suntanned face that suggest he wasn’t born in the Sorrows.
When they near us, Nyssa and I jump off the barrels and heft our packs. Lark comes up between us, slinging his arms over our shoulders and dragging us down the dock.
“Ah, my little Fledglings,” he says wistfully. “Fresh from the nest and ready to take your first flight.”
“First, we’re Songbirds now.” Nyssa rolls her eyes on his other side. “Second, I really hope the delusions of grandeur aren’t hereditary.”
“It’s no delusion, little sister. I’ve been told by many ladies and gentlemen how grand I can be.”
Nyssa and I both make gagging noises, but it’s Myna who replies first. “Keep that shit to yourself, Lark. We all have enough nightmares as it is.”
He mock glares at her, and I grin, watching as she effortlessly climbs the heavy plank of wood that acts as a bridge between the dock andThe Nightingale,my new home for the next week. The ship gleams, its hullscraped clean and boards freshly tarred. I eye the plank as it bobs and sways, unease from the past few days surging with the swell of the tide.
“Scared, princess?” Raven’s voice slices through the noise, sharp and mocking.
I glance up as he passes, his smirk a challenge I refuse to rise to. The use of his old nickname for me catches me off guard, stirring a mix of irritation and something I can’t quite name. When he first used it years ago, a wave of dread had washed over me, fearing my secret had been uncovered. But it had been little more than a coincidence—a teasing reminder of how inept I was when I first started training. Raven strides up the gangway without a second glance, and I roll my eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction of a response.
