Before he could respond or refute her assertion, the tune shifted to something livelier. Lyana’s wings stretched as she bounced on her feet, twirling in place, leaning her head back for a moment to look up at the sky. He followed her steps, pushing the questions and the doubts to the place where all his ugliness lay, forcing himself to ignore the subtle confession in her words, something he didn’t understand—or maybe just didn’t want to.
More dancers joined in the merriment. They formed lines and switched partners, and Xander lost himself in the movement, finding Lyana’s eyes through the crowd, watching her bright smile shine against her dark skin, admiring the way her beaded gown glittered in the light. These were his people. That was his mate. And he refused to allow the sinking feeling in his stomach to ruin his good time.
55
Rafe
He watched from the shadows, leaning around the edge of the roofline. The celebration was happening so close and yet so very far away. Rafe couldn’t make out their faces or hear the music or follow the dance, but he could feel the joy in the air, palpable, so rich he feared he might choke on it.
His eyes went straight to the white wings in a sea of black, but that wasn’t what truly caught his attention. It was her gown, glimmering as the golden beads and gems sewn onto the tight bodice and trailing skirt reflected the flames.
She was magic come to life.
Her magic.
Yearning seared his insides. Rafe tore his eyes away and rolled over shingles, returning to the darkness where he belonged. No one noticed his presence, just as no one would notice his absence when he decided to disappear—no one except Xander. But his brother was the very reason he had to leave. Rafe was one breath away from making a mistake he could never take back, right on the brink of a line he knew he should never cross—a line he would cross if he stayed.
But when to leave?
And how?
Would it be a gift to simply leap from this roof and soar away without so much as a goodbye? No explanation he could give Xander would suffice, so maybe it would be best not to even try. To vanish into the night.
No.
He couldn’t do that.
Xander would fear the worst. He’d worry. He’d go looking for him across all the isles. Rafe couldn’t do that to him. Couldn’t cause him more pain.
He would find his brother tomorrow, before the ceremony, and say he needed to chart his own course, forge a new path in a new place without the stigma of his past. He’d promise to return soon, promise to write. He'd do it fast and quick, before Xander had a chance to say no.
That was the only way.
The only plan.
Rafe dropped to his back and stared up at the sky, little more than a black blur as his mind whirled, swirling with all the what ifs. He rubbed his face and placed his arms over his head in an act of surrender. With his wings spread flat across the shingles, he bent his legs to keep from sliding down the roof. It was mindless movement.
Rafe was somewhere else.
He was the little boy sitting by the fire, playing with toys, as his mother hummed softly from the vanity in the corner of the room, brushing her long black hair, a soft smile on her lips. She’d always seemed happy, content with her life. But had that been the naïve musing of a boy who never realized, not until long after she’d died, that loving his father had destroyed her life? Her station had been stripped. She’d been shunned. Even her parents had turned their backs on her, so decisively Rafe didn’t even know who they were. No one had ever stepped forward to claim him, the fire-cursed child who had brought the dragon to their home, though sometimes, when he passed older couples on the street, he searched for some glimmer of recognition in their eyes. Would she do it all again if she knew what her life would be reduced to? Three walls, a balcony so far underground no one would see her if she stepped into the light, and a cursed child who was doomed to repeat all her mistakes.
Given the chance, would she have run?
Would she have turned from his father’s arms before it went too far?
Would she have left when she still had the chance?
Or had love really been worth it?
Rafe stayed on that roof, pondering that question, for he didn’t know how long. But it wasn’t long enough. Because when he eased to his feet and flew back to his room, someone was there waiting—a symbol of the answer he didn’t want to believe, but knew in his broken heart was true.
56
Lyana
She was being stupid—so incredibly stupid.
He’d told her to go. To leave. To never come back.
Lyana didn’t know why she had come, not really. She only knew that as soon as she got back to her room, the urge to fly had overwhelmed her, and her wings had brought her here. What made her stay were the drawers open and emptied in the corner, the twin blades polished and in their scabbards, and the sack of dried foods thrown at the foot of his bed. What made her stay was the understanding that if she left, she might never see him again.
The sound of boots made her heart stop.
Lyana turned, breath catching in her throat. He stood behind her in the shadows of the balcony, visible through the narrow slit in the curtains, his pale face glowing as it caught a sliver of light.
“I told you—”
“I know,” Lyana interjected.
Neither of them moved, as though the line where the rug ended and the stone floor of the balcony began represented something else, something much more difficult to cross.
“You’re leaving,” she said, not a question.
He answered anyway, voice strained. “Yes.”
Ask me to go.
Ask me to go.
Ask me to go.
The thoughts came swift, a strong desire tightening her gut. But she knew he wouldn’t ask—and he didn’t. She was grateful, because if he had, she would have had to find the courage to say no. She’d spent her lifetime staring at the sky, at the clouds above and the mist below, dreaming of disappearing into the adventure on the other end of the horizon. She’d had many chances to run from her responsibilities, with or without his help, but she’d never done it. Deep down, she knew, her dreams were just that—dreams. Ones that could never come true, not for a princess who would one day become a queen, a woman who had the weight of a thousand other lives on her shoulders.
Lyana took a step forward, then another, until her silk slippers silently crossed the threshold. She drew the curtain to the side and walked into the shadows of the balcony, the darkness of the night, the place where maybe they could live in a brief dream together. Her sleeves were long, but her shoulders were bare, and the cool kiss of evening brought a shiver to her skin. Lyana took a deep breath and looked up.
Rafe met her gaze.
The backs of his wings were already squeezed against the rail. He had nowhere else to go but the sky if he wanted to run.
He didn’t.
He stayed, frozen in place, not breathing as she crossed the distance between them and took his hands in hers, letting her magic bubble to the surface so she could feel the spark of their power meeting one more time.
“Let’s play a game, Rafe,” she whispered.
He released a breath, chest caving in as he glanced to the side. “A game.”