He curled his fingers into fists instead, because if he did any of those things, whatever had happened between them in that cave would become real—not a secret in the dark, but something tangible in the light, and he couldn’t let that happen.
He had to bury those stolen hours in the shadows.
He had to snuff the fire out.
“Rafe,” he answered gruffly.
“Huh?”
“My name is Rafe.”
She frowned. “That’s not a name.”
“Well, it’s the only one you’re going to get.” She stepped back at his rough tone. He stepped forward. “Is there anything else I can help you with, Princess?”
“I—” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Is that all? You’re not going to apologize?”
“For what?”
Her mouth dropped open.
Rafe cut in before she could respond. The less she spoke, the better. The faster this was done, the faster she’d forget about him. “I never lied. You guessed at my identity in the cave, and I didn’t deny it. On the first night of the trials, I told you I wasn’t who you thought I was. Is it my fault a princess who is too used to getting her way didn’t listen?”
“But…but…”
Rafe closed in, widening his wings, making his body as intimidating as possible. “You saved my life, and for that I thank you, but it didn’t make us friends. I’m not your confidante. If you have a question, Xander will answer it. If you have a request, ask a servant. Don’t come charging into my room in the middle of the night with demands. You’re not my queen yet. I don’t answer to you. And as far as I’m concerned, when I leave this isle tomorrow, I leave everything that happened these past few days behind me. Got it?”
She didn’t give in to his ploy. The princess held her ground, widened her wings further, and met him head-on, not backing down. “Got it. Now you get this, you overbearing oaf. What happened in that cave happened, whether you want to remember it or not. We had a deal, and I intend to hold you to your promise. No one can know about me. Got it?”
Rafe held her stare. “Got it.”
He expected her to turn and leave as quickly as she’d come, but she didn’t. She paused, not flinching, not looking away. Their faces were a mere foot apart, close enough for him to feel the soft brush of her breath on his neck, the heat simmering from her skin, the magic sparking just beneath the surface, daring his to come out and play. Her hands twitched, as though she wanted to push him or strike him, or maybe pull him close. Her plush lips were pursed. Her stare drilled into him like a physical weight.
Then she blinked.
It all vanished.
She leaned back, but not fast enough, because he saw the gleam of water pooling in her eyes. When she spun on her heels, a wad of feathers smacked him in the face. Rafe stumbled, his chest throbbing even though that wasn’t what she had hit.
The princess quickly made for the door.
Good, let her go, he thought, clenching his teeth.
He’d done what he needed to do.
Then he remembered that look in her eyes, back in the cave, as he told her of his homeland. The childlike awe as visions danced across her irises, so naïve but so pure, a heart that hadn’t yet been fractured. Those days were gone. His lie had carved a wound in her, and his actions tonight had made it bleed anew. But he didn’t want her to hate his people or his home. He didn’t want her to hate Xander. Only him.
Most of all, he didn’t want to be the reason the bright spot of wonder should be gone from her eyes. She could still see her dreams come true. She could still live a life without hiding. Just not with him.
“Lyana,” Rafe murmured.
She paused with her hand on the knob, not glancing back.
“My brother is the only other person in the world who knows about my magic,” he whispered, barely able to hear his own voice over the wild pounding against his ribcage, as though something inside him were fighting to break free. “If you choose to, you can trust him with your secrets.”
And your heart.
But he couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought.
She didn’t say anything. She just slipped out the door and back into the night.
Rafe stood in the middle of the room, fighting for control, forcing his feet to grow roots on the floor, forcing his wings to fall still, forcing his lips to close lest a shout tear its way out. His body began to tremble with the strain of keeping so many things inside—not just about Ana, but his wants and his fears and his dreams, all the things he never told Xander for worry they might hurt him. Sorrow over the loss of his parents. Pain that his own people had ostracized him for actions outside his control. Panic that his power would be discovered. Terror that one day his brother would see what everyone else saw, what Ana now saw—a nobody who never belonged.
The wounds were there.
Old and new.
Numb and throbbing.
So, he did the only thing he could think of to replace the pain—he slammed his fists into the glass table by his feet, slicing his hands with sharp shards, fighting the mental ache with something physical. Something real.
Rivulets of blood formed on his palms, sliding down the contours of his hands before dripping to the floor. He stared at the red pool, watching the firelight from the lantern flicker on the surface of the liquid, another round of dragon flames that would this time swallow him whole. And he stayed there for a long time, seeing his fate dance across the butchery—long enough for the cuts on his hands to slide seamlessly shut before he retreated to the washstand to clean up the mess.
33
Cassi
She couldn’t quite believe her eyes as the raven cleaned his hands, washing the blood away, revealing unblemished skin.
Cassi didn’t know what exactly had compelled her to stick around so long after Lyana left. At first, it had been curiosity—his cruel words were such an obvious cover to the outside observer, though it seemed they’d hit home with her friend. And then it had been pity, as he knelt in a circle of his own blood, black wings draped against the floor as though to hide him from the world, or maybe to protect him from it. And even then, as the minutes flew by, she remained, bound by some gut instinct she didn’t understand.
Now she knew why.
He’s an invinci, she marveled, spirit hovering over his shoulder as deep red turned to muted pink, then to unmarked cream. His hand had been healed of its injuries.
It was something her king would want to know immediately.
Cassi retreated from the room as the raven began to gather the broken glass, using his hand to sweep it into a pile in the corner, unconcerned as new cuts formed along his palms, healing them just as fast as they appeared. As she seeped through the walls and out into the barren tundra, a different face came to the forefront of her mind. Sandy hair. Stormy eyes. Pallid skin that had never been warmed by the sun, though in her mind she always imagined it should be golden. She sensed his soul immediately, and instead of taking her time, Cassi yanked on the line between them, rushing through air and mist and sky and cloud, her soul shooting like a falling star, tumbling from the world above and plummeting into her life below.
He was stationed in one of the many floating cities—hundreds of boats that were tied together, connected by bridges and flat wooden platforms, some containing houses, some containing trading shops, some just open areas for conversation and a little bit of fun amid so much gray. This late at night, everyone was asleep. Golden orbs of lantern light permeated the mist, bobbing in the waves as the wood around her creaked and groaned. Water splashed over the edges. Every surface was damp and dreary.