Alistair tilts his head. “Maybe we can get a picture for you.” He glances at me. “Have you tried triggering the reaction in front of a mirror?”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I force myself to hold my head high. “I tried that first,” I mutter. “So far, it’s a no go.”
Alistair’s expression turns wicked, and suddenly I’m painfully aware of my sticky situation again. Without another word, I walk away from them, heading for the bathroom and ignoring their teasing as they trail after me.
Clean up, change pants, and train for the duel—it’s the only acceptable order of operations. There’s no time for orgies. Yet.
FORTY-FOUR
Enclave Memo (internal)
This territory will change for the better; we’ll make sure of it.
Every supernatural species must feel heard.
CIPRIAN
I’m beginning to think I’m well-traveled. First the monster realm, now the celestial one... I’ve seen more expressions of magic since meeting Celine than I did in the previous two and a half decades combined.
Watching her practice radiant attacks with Malach is strangely beautiful. It’s different from when she dances, yet similar, too—strong, confident, and sexy all at once. She performs the steps with the same determined grace.
Celine is magnificent.
And she loves me.
I’m a lucky motherfucker. I only wish this battle was over and we could start our lives together. We’re committed, but no one’s had the balls or the bandwidth to discuss what the futurewill look like.
“Your gears are turning.” Luca keeps his voice low, not wanting to disrupt their training.
“Just thinking,” I say.
He hums under his breath. “Anything you need to get off your chest?”
I glance around the white training room. It’s stark, and the variations in tone are so minorit gets trippy fast. If I stare long enough, I can’t tell where the floor ends and the walls begin. The four of us are sitting out of the way watching Celine and Malach murder training dummies. Celine told us to stay put, and after watching her first blast twist the straw figure into something unrecognizable, I have no intention of moving.
I glance at Luca. “Do you ever wonder how to find home?”
“I think home is relative,” Luca says. He’s watching Celine and Malach, but his eyes are far away. “Technically, the monster realm is my home, but I hate that place.”
I grunt. I’m not much of a philosopher. I’m thinking about this in practical terms because I don’t want to be separated from them. But now, the concept is fucking with my head. Is home where you come from? Is it where you feel safe? Or is home a mirage, waffling over boiling pavement in the desert, something you could spend a lifetime trying and failing to reach?
I swallow. I’m uncomfortable with this train of thought, but I don’t want it to fester. “I was at home in the monster realm,” I say quietly.
Riven, Alistair, and Luca all turn to stare. Luca releases his lip ring so quickly his mouth drops open, and I shake my head. I’m not trying to be outrageous, honest to gods, but they’re looking at me like I’m one weird remark away from being told to go lie down.
“Ciprian...” Luca puts his hand on my forehead.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not sick.”
“It could be a mental break,” Alistair murmurs. “Do you have a family history of psychosis?”
I blink. “Probably, maybe, I don’t know, but that’s not what this is.”
“The monster realm sucks, Casanell,” Riven says bluntly. “No one is at home there.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know that. If you all would give me a minute to explain, it wouldn’t sound unhinged.”
They shut up but continue watching me closely.
