The Raven and the Dove

by Kaitlyn Davis

  “Your mother was my mother’s chambermaid,” Xander continued, motionless. “She knew all my mother’s secrets, all her wishes, all her dreams, all her deepest, darkest fears. She was my mother’s closest friend. One of the few people who saw her as just a girl, and not a princess. Not the future queen.”

  Rafe swallowed.

  Revulsion curled his gut, self-loathing.

  “It’s funny,” Xander whispered, tone quivering as though he was struggling to keep it even and emotionless. “How fast things can change. How, in the blink of an eye, someone you thought was your best friend can become a person you hardly recognize, can’t even stand to look at or talk to. How fragile unbreakable bonds can truly be.”

  Rafe’s legs grew weak. He wobbled unsteadily as Xander stood, muscles rigid and strong and assured. It was all Rafe could do not to crumble to the ground as his brother spun slowly, holding his left palm open, an emerald ring flashing brightly against his pale skin.

  “I’ll return this to Lyana,” he stated, words soft but perfectly clear. “I’m sure she’s worried sick about where it might have gone.”

  Rafe’s ears began to ring.

  The world slowed.

  The light was too bright and the shadows too dark.

  He forgot to breathe.

  Each step his brother took to the door made him flinch, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything. He was aware and yet not, drowning even as he tried to swim, falling even as he fought to fly, immobile even though every ounce of him wanted to move or shout or scream.

  Xander stepped through the door and began to close it.

  “Wait!”

  Rafe lunged, gripped the edge of the door like a lifeline, and forced it open. Xander paused, glancing back over his shoulder as a violet pain flashed across his eyes.

  I’m sorry, he thought.

  The words were so insufficient they wouldn’t come, too weak to even speak aloud.

  There’s so much you don’t understand, Xander.

  But only because Rafe had never bothered to explain, to give his brother honesty or any semblance of the truth.

  She saved me.

  From the dragon.

  From loneliness.

  From myself.

  In so many ways, she saved me.

  It was an excuse—an excuse for a betrayal so deep, Rafe knew in his heart there was no excusing it. The magic didn’t matter. Nor did the fact that he'd fallen for her before he'd even realized who she was, and that as soon as he had, he'd tried to keep his distance, tried to stay away.

  Because he'd failed. He'd known what he was doing last night, and all the nights before. He'd known, and he hadn't cared.

  If he were to be honest, he would do it all again.

  Rafe had his answer—love was worth any cost. Even when it was a brief star shooting across the night sky, gone before he could even hold it for a moment. It was worth it. The way she’d looked at him, as though every adventure and dream and desire lived within his gaze—he would never forget it. The memory would burn in his heart until the day he died, more powerful than any magic he’d ever known.

  “Forgive her,” Rafe whispered. He didn’t deserve forgiveness, but he wanted them to find happiness together. “I won’t— I won’t be coming back.”

  Xander looked away and left without saying another word.

  Rafe stared at the empty spot where his brother had just stood. He stared, and stared, and stared, until his eyes burned so badly, he thought they might bleed. Then he turned, picked up his bag, and left, needing to make one final stop before he said goodbye to his homeland for good.

  60

  Lyana

  “I don’t know where it is, Cassi,” she shrieked, tossing the blankets from her bed, digging under the pillows, falling to her hands and knees to check the floor. “I have to find it. I have to!”

  “It’s all right,” her friend soothed. “Stay calm.”

  Calm.

  Calm!

  Calm was not the word she would use to describe herself, not this morning. Panicked. Heartbroken. Disgusted. Nerves frayed beyond belief. Those were far more accurate descriptions. Ever since leaving Rafe’s room, she’d felt off. There was a throbbing beneath her skin, a current making her stomach flutter and her insides whirl, confusing her thoughts and setting her body on edge. Her heart started pounding the instant she woke, and the drumming only continued, steadily inclining, a thump, thump, thump that she couldn’t ignore.

  A knock on the door snapped her back to the present.

  Cassi put her hands on Lyana’s shoulders, steadying her. “I’ll keep looking for the ring. You just try to relax. We’ll find it before he gets here, I promise.”

  But even as her friend said the words, Lyana knew the ring was gone. She’d had it during dinner, she’d had it during dancing, and that was where the certainty ended. Her night with Rafe was both perfectly clear and a dark shadowy mess, as though two different sides of her were at war, one remembering with flawless clarity and one trying to erase her undeniable betrayal. The emerald was in his room somewhere—it had to be. But she couldn’t go back, not now. Not in the stark light of day, with the sun’s accusing rays burning bright.

  As the servants came rushing in, Lyana stood in the center of the room, detached from her body as if she were a ghost watching from the corner as her sleeping frock was removed, her hair carefully twisted, her cheeks rouged and her eyelids powdered. She stared at the mirror, unsure who the figure before her eyes was—the dove princess, the raven queen, a broken mix of the two that didn’t seem to work?

  Her mating gown was deep onyx at the bottom, shifting to charcoal, then pewter, then pure ivory around the bodice. Diamonds glittered across the wide skirt. Opals glimmered with a rainbow sheen. Pearls studded the top edge, bright against her skin. Her arms were bare. The back of her dress dipped low around her wings, which had been painted black at the edges as a symbol of her transformation. And finally, around her neck, they placed a wreath of her mate's stark obsidian feathers, snug and constricting, like hands around her throat, gripping so tightly she could hardly breathe. Though maybe that was in her head, because in her reflection, the effect was beautiful. Xander’s feathers flared up around her chin, framing her face, and then fanned down, covering the bare skin of her shoulders, slightly longer along her back, as if becoming one with her wings. Just like that she was ready to be mated.

  Her heart hammered at the thought, so forceful, so painful she feared she might faint.

  “Lyana.”

  The sound of his voice caught her off guard, bringing a gasp to her lips as she turned. Xander stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, gently leaning against the frame. He was dressed in black, a mix of formal silks and smooth leathers, regal, the image of a future king, the image of Taetanos himself. A small bundle of her feathers was pinned to his chest with the royal seal hanging right beside them, a dark obsidian ring that somehow still managed to gleam against its midnight backdrop. His lavender eyes were cold, like flower petals frozen on a winter’s day. The sight made her pause.

  “Xander,” she whispered, half breathing the word, unable to find her voice. Lyana flicked her gaze toward Cassi, lingering long enough for her friend to shake her head in a silent no, a grimace passing over her features as her focus shifted from one side of the room to the other, from one half of the royal couple to the other.

  He pushed away from the frame and stepped into her room. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there, watching her, before he’d decided to make his presence known. The servants scattered, doing their best to become invisible as Xander approached.

  “I thought you might want an escort to the carriage,” he said, his voice scratching like the sharpening of a blade, with something dangerous hidden in the tone. “So you don’t lose your way.”

  A smile spread across his lips, but it was empty, devoid of all the warmth she’d grown used to. Lyana fought the nausea coiling in her stomach and
swallowed. “Yes, thank you. That would be lovely.”

  He offered his arm.

  She took it.

  They left the room together, walking at an easy pace down the hall, unhurried, yet the air was so tense it urged Lyana’s legs to run, her wings to push, her entire body to flee. Xander’s steps, however, remained slow and steady—one, then another, then another, on a fixed beat.

  “How was your morning?” she asked weakly.

  “Enlightening,” Xander replied smoothly. “Yours?”

  Lyana offered him a smile, wanting to ease the tautness in her chest. “A little chaotic, but as you can see”—She motioned toward her gown—“I managed to get ready on time.”

  “Are you?” Xander countered. “Ready?”

  “Hmm?” The strained sound was the only thing she could get through her lips.

  “Are you ready?” he insisted, tone neither light nor heavy, but with enough accents of both to make her uneasy. “Are you ready to make the vows? Ready to be a queen? Ready for all the sacrifices these promises entail? To think of your people’s needs before your own? To do anything for them?”

  A soft, uncomfortable laugh escaped her. “Of course, Xander. Isn’t this what we’ve been preparing for our whole lives?”

  They reached the door to the courtyard, but Xander stopped within the shadows of the castle. A few yards away, in the bright, gleaming light of the sun, their golden carriage waited, ready to be carted through the spirit gates in a parade that would lead them to the outskirts of the city and the sacred nest beyond.

  “Can you promise me, Lyana?” Xander said, taking her hand in his. “Can you promise me that when you say those vows, you’ll mean them? For the rest of our lives? That you won’t break them?”

  There was a deeper meaning to his words—one that made her stomach drop and her heart skip a beat.

  “I promise,” she said, meeting his gaze and holding it for a few seconds, so he could see the truth in her eyes. The past was in the past, no matter how broken the idea made her feel. There was no Ana. No Rafe. No dreams of different lives and different destinies. Once her vows were spoken, there would only be Lyana Taetanus. Somehow, some way, she’d make sure of it.

  Xander dropped his gaze.

  His wings and shoulders eased, no longer rigid and hard, as if they bore less of a burden. He let go of her hand to dip his fingers into his pocket. Even in the shade, the emerald in his palm shone brilliantly. Lyana closed her eyes to fight the sting of guilt.

  He slipped the ring over her knuckle.

  There was nothing to say.

  She knew where he’d found it.

  He knew she understood.

  Today, they’d be joined before the gods, mated for all eternity, so there was no choice but to move on, painful as it was for them both.

  Xander strode into the light, his obsidian wings glistening in the sun, and Lyana followed. They climbed into the carriage together. After a few minutes, they were led into the street and greeted by the cheers of their people as their mating parade began. Petals and feathers fell onto their laps as they rode on a leisurely, circular route through every spirit gate in the city. Lyana smiled and waved. Xander did the same. But they didn’t smile at each other. And when she slid her hand across the seat to touch his arm, he jerked away as if burned. The apology churned in the back of her throat, but with so many eyes watching and ears listening, it wasn’t the time. Later, after the vows had been spoken, after promises had been made, maybe she would find the strength to explain, to tell him everything, the whole truth, about who and what she was, who Rafe had allowed her to be. Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he deserved to know.

  When they reached the outskirts of Pylaeon, they abandoned the carriage and took to the air, surrounded by guards and following the queen, as they traveled to the sacred nest. Lyana hadn’t been there before, but she knew the way by instinct, something pulling her there, luring her. The feeling she’d had all day strengthened—the buzzing in her veins, the energy in her pulse, the roar in the back of her mind only growing stronger.

  They landed by the base of a large tree. Queen Mariam pulled a hidden lever and a doorway appeared in the bark, an opening like the dark, hidden depths of a gaping mouth aching to swallow her whole. Lyana’s body protested, but she followed Xander, mind so consumed by the growing thunder within she could hardly pay attention to the outside world. He led her into the tunnel, leaving the others in the woods to wait for their return.

  Now was her time to speak, if she wanted to, but her tongue was heavy and her lips fat. Her mind was in such a whirlwind that no cohesive sentences, let alone thoughts, could be strung together. It was hard enough to focus on Xander and the steps as her legs shook and they walked in shadows for the gods knew how long. Suddenly, light appeared in the distance. A priest stood, holding open a golden gate. Lyana heard the chirping of birds, but her eyes immediately went to the god stone floating in the center of the room, barely visible through the trees, its power releasing a silent shriek that rattled her bones. A vibration shuddered through her, visible enough for Xander to notice as he turned toward her, curious, maybe even concerned.

  Lyana blinked, trying to clear her vision.

  The lights wouldn’t disappear.

  They came swiftly, emanating from the god stone, glittering and flickering across the air, shooting toward her skin. The stone was so black it swallowed the rays of the sun streaking through the trees, yet it sparked with every color of the spectrum in short bursts and long bands that reached for her like phantom hands. Her arms quivered. Her knees trembled. Her heart continued to drum faster and faster, more and more loudly, rhythm speeding and growing to match the one pulsing through the stone.

  They reached the center of the sacred nest and knelt, preparing to speak the prayers, the first step in the long ceremony that would eventually end with the exchange of their vows. Lyana turned to Xander. He was oblivious to the beat drowning out every other noise in the world and the rainbow spiraling around her, making her dizzy, making the nest swim.

  She turned to the priest and stopped cold.

  He didn’t look like any of the ravens she’d seen. His eyes were a midnight blue, clouded with angry storms yet bright with the piercing fire of lightning. His hair resembled flowing gold. His skin was sun-kissed, and a spatter of freckles covered his nose. No wings fanned from his back, and they weren't expected in a priest, but his robes didn’t fit. The hem of silk was two inches from the ground, ruining the belief that those chosen by the gods floated on a different plane. Underneath the robe, she could see a pair of scuffed, muddy boots that didn’t belong to the scene. The sight set her on edge, but it was the penetrating expression on his face that made her freeze, the knot in his brows, the tempest in his eyes, spinning as though attracted by all the lights around her, every spectacle of magic—as if he were waiting for an answer only she could supply.

  Lyana opened her mouth.

  Before she could think of what to say, her world exploded.

  61

  Cassi

  Cassi stood in the dark corner of the room, watching the lone figure on the balcony, his onyx wings draped across the floor, his head hung low, two swords strapped to his back and two bags dropped by his side.

  He’d been easy to find.

  After so many weeks of watching and waiting, Cassi had known exactly where Rafe would go when his world fell apart. He was predictable, just like Lyana. The only one who had truly surprised her was the prince, with his steadfast loyalty and stubborn inability to see evil in the people he cared about. Manipulating him would leave a lasting scar in her. Exposing him to the harsh realities of the world would be the newest item on her long list of regrets. But there had been no other choice. Xander was the only person who would have missed Rafe when he left, who would have noticed his absence and maybe gone looking. But now, he knew who his brother truly was. And Rafe was alone, the way she needed him to be.

  Because the end was ne
ar.

  The sign would come.

  The buzz of magic had been building beneath her skin all day, a current in the air that made her hair stand on end and chest thud. The sky sparkled with hidden static. Anyone with magic—well, anyone with magic who wasn’t heartbroken and overcome with despair—would have been a fool to not recognize the signs that something was coming, something big.

  And she was ready—ready to be done, ready to be with her king and her queen, ready to be with her mother. No more duplicity. No more lies. Free.

  Rafe was her last job.

  Her final task.

  She stood in the shadows of the burnt-out room at the base of the castle where no one else would venture, deep beyond the line she knew the raven wouldn’t cross, hidden from sight.

  The bow in her hands was pulled taut.

  Her arrow and eye were perfectly aligned.

  Still she waited, as she had promised her king she would, for the inevitable.

  62

  Xander

  By his side, Lyana fainted. Her body twitched, back arching painfully as her spine bent, her arms curled, and her legs dragged along the ground. Invisible fingers lifted her into the air by her hips so her wings and toes skidded across soil and stone.

  “Ly—”

  Xander was cut off as a force slammed into his chest, knocking him back. He rolled on the ground and crashed into a tree, landing just in time to turn and realize with horror that Lyana's body had begun to glow. Fiery sparks lit her skin, filling the space around her with glitter, as though the air held diamond dust, as though she were a star that had fallen from the sky, as though she were a god stone in her own right, one made of gold instead of deep, deep shadow. He couldn’t say how long he remained limp on the ground, eyes wide as he watched her, stilled by a strange mix of awe and terror, unable to look away or speak or move or act.

  Then it stopped.