The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “I wasn’t talking about her. I was talking about you,” Rafe retorted before pointedly looking at the gnarled glove by his feet. “I think the poor girl thought you tore your own hand off. What happened to using your words?”

  Xander frowned. “I— I’m not sure.”

  But Rafe knew. Everyone in that room knew. Even Xander, whether he would admit it to himself or not. The same insecurity had plagued him all his life—the idea that his disability made him somehow less of a man, less of a prince. Rafe wanted to grab his brother and shake him, but he didn’t think that would help. Instead, he walked across the room and draped an arm over Xander’s shoulder.

  “Give her time,” he said. “She’s been lied to, she probably feels a bit betrayed, and more than anything, she probably feels scared—scared to be mated, scared to leave the only life she’s ever known, scared to move to a foreign world she’s never seen before. This isn’t about you, not really. Give her time to adjust and then you’ll see, she’ll open her heart to you.”

  “Rafe is right,” Helen added softly. “We knew this plan was risky from the start, but it doesn’t sound like she plans to betray us to her king. We should look on the bright side. In two days, we’ll be home. Our people’s faith will be restored. And you’ll have the rest of your life to make it up to your mate.”

  Xander grunted, his expression still haunted. After a moment, he slinked out of Rafe’s embrace and pumped his wings, racing toward his room. Rafe moved to follow, but a hand on his arm stopped him cold.

  “Leave us,” Queen Mariam murmured darkly.

  At first, Rafe thought she was talking to him, but then he saw Helen slip out, returning to the rest of the guards at her command, and he knew he wasn’t so lucky.

  “What—”

  “Silence,” she cut him off, voice as sharp as ever—as though she’d been forged in a smithy, not grown in a womb. Her eyes glinted like the polished iron of a blade about to strike. No matter how old he grew or how many dragons he faced, the queen would remain the most terrifying of sights. “I will not have my son fooled the way my mate fooled me.”

  Rafe swallowed, trying to clear his throat as a drop of dread slid through it. His voice was hoarse as he answered, “I don’t know what you mean.”

  The queen laughed, a sound that was anything but amused. “I don’t care what happened between you and the daughter of Aethios to make her defy the orders of her king and pick my son as a mate, but whatever it was, it ends now.”

  Rafe opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  The silence said more than his words ever could.

  Queen Mariam tightened her grip on his arm and leaned toward him. “You will not speak to her in the absence of my son. You will not visit her rooms. You will not try to ease her worries or her fears. You will not make her believe she is special. You will harden your heart to her, or I will do what I should have done years ago and remove you from my kingdom. Do I make myself clear?”

  Rafe nodded slowly. “Crystal.”

  “Good.”

  The queen snatched her hand away, curling her lip as though touching him had left a distasteful smell in the air, and smoothed the folds of her dress before leaving. Rafe clenched his fists until his whole body began to shake. Only when the clicking of her heels faded did he release his tension to fall back against the nearest wall, painfully crushing his wings.

  The queen was right.

  This was Rafe’s fault.

  Rafe’s mess.

  And he had to fix it.

  Xander thought the princess was upset because he was somehow less than she’d expected, but he was wrong. This had nothing to do with his hand. Nothing to do with him. Nothing even to do with Rafe. Ana—

  Lyana, he corrected. Not Ana. Never Ana again.

  Princess Lyana Aethionus.

  His brother’s mate.

  His brother’s queen.

  What was it she’d said to him on the dance floor?

  Call me crazy, she’d murmured as he twirled her inside the curtain of his wings, but I thought maybe you’d be excited, like I was, when you discovered there’d be a princess at the trials who already knew your deepest secret, a person from whom you didn’t have to hide.

  That was all she had wanted, all that had propelled her actions. Not a desire for Rafe, but a desire for what she thought he offered—freedom. Maybe he could show her that Xander offered the same thing. That Xander would accept her for who she was. That Xander was a better man than he could ever hope to be, a better man for her. Maybe then she’d forget about a few stolen moments in the dark. She’d forget about him.

  The very idea stole the breath from his lungs.

  But Rafe would do it.

  He had to.

  30

  Lyana

  With Cassi’s help, Lyana successfully avoided the ravens for the rest of the evening, hiding in her room, getting her meal delivered, spending the night staring at the crystal palace that had never seemed so far away, and waking bleary-eyed and run down the next morning.

  “You can’t greet your parents looking like that,” Cassi said after taking one glance at Lyana. “They’ll know something’s up.”

  Though she couldn’t see herself, Lyana had no doubt her eyes were red and puffy, and that the normal cheer was gone from her face. She sighed. “I know.”

  “Well, come here. Let me see what I can do,” Cassi grumbled, slipping on her glasses for the attention to detail required by the task. Lyana spun, granting her friend full rein. Immediately, nimble fingers began shifting through her head, folding and twisting her many braids into a perfectly royal crown of hair.

  “This can’t all be about a man,” her friend said as she worked. “That’s not the Ana I know.”

  “It’s not. It’s—” The words caught in Lyana's throat.

  It’s not about a man, she told herself. It’s not.

  But maybe it was…a little.

  Watching him turn and face that dragon had been the bravest thing she’d ever seen. And their two magics dancing beneath his skin had felt deeper than any kiss she’d ever experienced. And when she’d dropped the edge of her knife from his neck, she’d given him more than her trust in his promise to keep her secret. She’d given him a piece of her heart as well.

  A piece he’d crushed.

  Now the two of them would be bound by a secret no one could ever know, not even her mate. Which meant this man, whose name she still didn’t know, would have his claws in her forever.

  “It’s not about a man,” Lyana repeated, more gruffly this time. Cassi yanked a little too hard on her hair, a silent protest that elicited a hiss of pain, but nothing else. “It’s about my life.”

  Cassi sighed theatrically. “It’s so tough being a princess.”

  Lyana planted an elbow in her friend’s ribs. “I thought I was going to have a mate who knew my deepest secret, who knew and didn’t care. And now all of that is gone. Can I not wallow in self-pity for a little while?”

  “Nope,” Cassi chirped, nudging Lyana to turn around.

  Lyana met Cassi's raised eyebrows with a matching set. Cassi pinched her cheeks to bring some color back to her dark skin, then reached across the bed and dipped the corner of the sheet in a jug of water before pressing it to Lyana’s eyelids to reduce their swelling.

  “Everyone has secrets, Ana," she continued. "Everyone. The prince had a secret. The ravens had a secret. Your magic doesn’t define you. So what if that imposter knows about it, as long as he keeps quiet? Maybe the prince will never know that one truth, but your mate will learn what’s important. The things that are far more connected to who you are. You’ll see.”

  The words did little to ease Lyana's mood. Needing to keep busy, she reached for one of the brushes on the side table and motioned for Cassi to switch places. Her own hair did better with fingers and a comb, but her friend’s was different—wavy rather than coiled, flowing silk instead of fluffed tulle, slippery enough to never stay in one place
for very long. A little unruly, Lyana thought, compared to her braids, which could last for a few weeks at a time. But she’d always enjoyed running her fingers through Cassi’s hair and brushing out the knots. She’d always found it soothing.

  They were quiet for a little while, Cassi lost in her thoughts, Lyana thankfully lost in the movement of her fingers, in looping and twisting the smooth strands. She divided her friend’s hair into four sections, weaving four intricate braids that met at the crown of her head and then spun into a tightly cinched bun that would hopefully make it through at least the long flight to the edge of the House of Peace, if not the long journey to the House of Whispers the next day. The design was far more ornate than the hasty updos her friend normally preferred, as though she’d sensed that Lyana had needed the distraction. But when it was finished, Cassi turned and took her hands, silvery eyes bright against her tawny cheeks.

  “Why don’t we try to remember what today is really about?”

  Lyana frowned and tilted her head. “Huh?”

  “Today isn’t about a man, or secrets, or lies, or worries about what the future might bring. Today—” Cassi paused as an excited grin widened her lips and she squeezed Lyana’s hands tightly as if trying to transfer some of her enthusiasm to her friend. “Today is the day our adventure begins, the one we’ve waited so long for, the one we’ve yearned for. Today, we travel to the edge of our isle, farther than we’ve ever been. And tomorrow? Even farther.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Lyana’s lips. “I guess…”

  “You guess?” Cassi chided as she stood and pulled Lyana to her feet, toward the window and the city waiting outside. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To see someplace new. Someplace exciting. To explore the world. Or was that all talk?”

  Lyana’s gaze skimmed the outskirts of Sphaira, past the crystal buildings to the tundra beyond, settling on that never-ending line where a snowy landscape stretched into a clear sky. But it did end. By nightfall, she’d be at the end, the spot where her isle gave way to air. After so many years of staring at a similar view, always wondering and questioning what lay beyond, she would finally have an answer. A bubble of joy spread across her chest, growing and growing, filled with light and hope and a sprinkle of something else, something that spilled out of her lips in the shape of quiet laughter.

  “Fine.” Lyana turned back to Cassi, ignoring the smug expression on the owl’s face because her mood had finally lifted, and she didn’t want anything to shoot it back down. For now, the adventure was enough. The worry, the fears, the hurt, she could deal with them later. “Yes, that’s what I’ve always wanted. And you’re right, that’s what today should be about. You and me and the bridge that in these many years we’ve never dared cross. Well, the bridge you’ve never let me cross, because you were worried about the trouble I’d get into. Today, the sky bridge is ours, Cassi. We’re crossing that bridge, together. We’re going someplace new…” Lyana paused, but was unable to stop herself from playfully adding, “Whether you want to or not.”

  “I volunteered for this, remember?”

  “I know.” Lyana let her enthusiasm sweep her up like the winds of a great storm, ready to carry her away. “I must have finally rubbed off on you.”

  Cassi snorted. “Maybe I just knew you would need someone around who wasn’t afraid to put you in your place, princess or not. From what I’ve seen so far of the ravens, they seem incapable of telling you no.”

  Before Lyana had a chance to retort, a knock sounded at the door.

  Cassi fluttered over to answer, in case it was a raven, but Luka forced the door open. He paused in the doorway, looking at her for a moment before nodding awkwardly in greeting. Cassi stepped back and glanced away, giving him the opening to race across the room and crush his sister in an embrace—one which Lyana reciprocated wholeheartedly. Her mother and father followed, along with a handful of servants carrying breakfast.

  Lyana ate with her family one final time, happy that for once there was no lecture, just mutual understanding. What was done was done, and they should enjoy these moments they had left. She learned that Damien had selected the owl princess as his mate when his turn came, and that the rest of the matches had followed as expected. Though she hadn’t broken any rules, Lyana had been the only rebellious heir of the bunch. Her father had, of course, already forgiven her, despite the temporary strain her actions might have put on a few of his diplomatic relationships. But Lyana was stunned to find that when she cautiously met her mother’s knowing gaze, she found no anger or disapproval. Instead, pride glistened in her eyes, reminding Lyana of the stories around her parents’ courtship trials—of how her mother, bold and daring, had won her father’s favor. Maybe she understood, after all.

  So, they ate, and talked, and embraced, and kissed, until the sun rose high and the time for goodbyes came. There was no telling when her family would be together again, or when Lyana would next step foot in the House of Peace now that she was heir to another throne. But she didn’t cry. Enough tears had been shed the night before, and over the wrong person. When a drop fell from Luka’s eye, she brushed it from his cheek, telling him not to worry, that she would be fine, that she had Cassi and a mate and a new life waiting, that she had everything she could ever want.

  For a moment, she even believed it.

  She wanted so badly to believe it.

  Lyana watched her family go, remaining strong until the door closed behind them. Cassi was there to catch her as she stumbled, the weight of so many changes ready to crush her. But with her best friend by her side, the wave passed. Lyana stood tall. And when the ravens came to collect her, she went with her head held high, following her new flock as they took to the sky and began the long journey to her new home. She did, however, allow herself one look back at Sphaira, at the city of her youth, full of so many dreams, at the crystal palace and the surrounding buildings glimmering like a diamond brooch in the sun.

  They stopped before the sky bridge, landing at the edge of the inner isle.

  She didn’t look down toward the Sea of Mist.

  She didn’t glance at the cave nestled somewhere in the cliff below her.

  She didn’t pay attention to the red stain still on the rocks.

  She looked ahead.

  At the ravens as they walked across the bridge. At her mate when he turned around to find her, a glimmer of uncertainty flickering over his features as though he wasn’t sure she would follow. And at the man by his side, whose hooded eyes still managed to pierce.

  When Cassi stepped to her side, Lyana took the hand she offered.

  Together, they walked into the unknown.

  31

  Xander

  “You should go talk to her,” Rafe whispered, jolting Xander from his reverie.

  “Huh? What?” He shook his head and pulled his gaze from where it had been lingering—on the princess. They’d arrived at the outpost an hour ago, a small set of crystal buildings right on the edge of the House of Peace, a place for a little rest before the long flight home tomorrow.

  As soon as they’d landed, his mate had walked right up to the spot where land gave way to air and plopped on the cold stone, staring out at empty space. Her friend had been by her side for a while but must have gotten cold. All the ravens had come inside to escape the chill, but the princess remained outside, as though the ice of her home lived in her veins and didn’t bother her in the slightest.

  “You’ve been staring out the wall for ten minutes. Just go say hello,” Rafe prodded.

  “I don’t think she wants to talk.”

  “I don’t think she knows what she wants.”

  Xander snorted, gaping at Rafe in amazement. “Oh, and you do? You know what a princess who’s been lied to, matched with a foreign prince, and practically tossed from her homeland wants? You know that?”

  "Fine," Rafe relented, half growling the word. “Maybe I don’t know what she wants, but I know she’s your mate. And I know you need to start s
omewhere, Xander. The longer you two go without talking, the worse it will get. So…” He let the words trail off as his gaze darted around the sitting room, searching for inspiration. In a flash of motion, he grabbed a fur throw from a nearby chair. “Take this. Tell her you thought she might be cold. See what she says. If nothing else, she’ll appreciate the gesture.”

  “I don’t know, Rafe,” Xander murmured, ignoring the blanket as he glanced at Lyana's solitary figure once more.

  “Just go, Xander.”

  Rafe pushed him, but Xander held his ground, digging his feet in. If he was going to talk to his mate, it would be on his terms. He squared his shoulders, shook the tension from his wings, and turned toward the door of his own accord. Of course, he didn’t take a step forward, because, well, his feet were frozen with fear, his heart thrummed wildly, and his tongue felt fat and idle, with nothing to say. Instead, he stood there for a minute, gathering his courage, trying to take deep, even breaths.

  Finally, he gave in and turned around to snatch the blanket—the gods if Rafe’s idea wasn’t a good one—but when he looked at his brother, he paused.

  Rafe stared out the window, the muscles in his jaw clenched.

  Something in his eyes took Xander back to a different time, years ago, when he’d found his brother in much the same position, standing in the rubble of a scorched room, staring at the sun burning in the morning sky. It had been the day of the king’s funeral, but Rafe had been more interested in paying his respects to his mother, a woman no one else bothered to remember. He’d gone to her room to lay flowers on the balcony and had remained there during the royal funeral, until Xander had come to fetch him. There had been tears on his cheeks then, which had long since dried. For some reason, that same silent, haunted goodbye danced across his lips now as it had then. Though for the life of him, Xander couldn’t imagine why.

  “Rafe?”

  His brother flinched and jerked his head toward Xander—too quickly. “What?”