I listened with my eyes closed, imagining a cherub little boy with golden skin and white-blond hair crying himself to sleep because he was forbidden from talking to anyone.
My heart hurt as he revealed his parents had given him away to an all-boys home because they’d thought he was defective. Strength and power were the ultimate tenets of devil life, and those viewed as different were discarded.
He talked about living with the other foster boys on an expansive farm. How he’d loved visiting the village’s farmers market.
I struggled to make sense of the world he described.
I’d pictured the devil realm as a dreary, miserable city filled with gangs and violence, but what he described sounded provincial and rural. It was a place of quiet living, apart from extreme tenets regarding strength and personhood.
His voice calmed the panic in my chest.
He talked about how being with Corvus and Scorpius had saved him.
How Corvus secretly had a soft side you would never believe unless you saw him in his home. How Scorpius could make pain feel greater than pleasure ever could.
My stomach flipped, and a whimper escaped my lips.
Orion changed topics, and he talked about the euphoric feeling of unleashing his powers with his mates. He said it felt divine but also like torment because their mating bond wasn’t complete.
There was a painful knot in his chest that wound tighter when they unleashed their abilities. When they lost all awareness, it felt wrong, like they were being punished for not having their fourth.
I listened intently.
What he described was so foreign I couldn’t even imagine it. To have so much power that it felt like euphoria—it sounded like a fairy tale.
Then Orion randomly asked softly, “What’s with Luka?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “Why’s he always so quiet? I’ve noticed that he seems—intense.”
The tone of his voice was weird, and I couldn’t place it.
“John’s hinted that he’s been through a lot,” I said. “He’s a very protective, intense guy.” I smiled. “But he’s secretly a softie.” I thought about all the times he’d helped me during training, and we hadn’t even known each other.
Orion was silent.
“Why do you ask?”
He cleared his throat. “Just wondering. I’ve noticed him watching me sometimes, and I was wondering if that was something he usually does?”
His words startled me. “No, it’s not—he usually only looks at me and John. Sometimes I don’t think he knows other people exist.”
Orion made a noise in the back of his throat. “Interesting.”
I smiled to myself. “He also has wicked-cool tattoos and a piercing somewhere you’d never expect.”
“Really?” Orion asked, the interest clear in his voice.
Grinning, I launched into a detailed account of every fine-line tattoo that covered Luka’s chest.
As I talked, the ice on my toes didn’t seem like such a big deal.
After a while of objectifying Luka, I asked more questions about Orion’s childhood, and he launched into a captivating tale of survival.
Yet again I drifted off to sleep, but this time in the shower to the sound of an enchanting voice.
The nightmares stayed away.
I dreamed of grassy pastures, rolling hills, cherry blossoms floating on a warm summer breeze, and Orion smiling as he talked to me.
Chapter 14
Aran
PARTY
Reverie （noun）： the condition of being lost in thought.
DAY 9, HOUR 19
“A safe place for the soldiers to unwind.”
That was what Lothaire had called Elite Academy last week. The unspoken I’m doing this for you, my daughter had hung in the air between us.
Yesterday, he’d burst into our sleeping barracks and dumped RJE devices onto the floor. “In recognition of your sacrifices, I procured these for you and your soldiers. Your old room and the academy’s servants are yours to use. Thank you for your service.”
He’d ruffled my blue curls and whispered, “You’re doing great.”
Then he’d RJE’d away, and I’d gaped at the place where he’d stood.
One day, a man’s hitting you with a baton and the next he’s trying to be a cool dad.
Life comes at you fast.
Now we were back partying in our bedroom at Elite Academy, and it didn’t feel like a safe place.
It felt wild.
Muted red light, so dark it was almost black, filtered through the stained-glass windows and cast shadows over the dancers.