by Lexi C. Foss
Did I want to hurt her mates? Sure.
Would I? Not yet. Perhaps not ever. At least where Shade and Zephyrus were concerned. The former amused me. The latter provided my mate with defensive magic. Both were worthy reasons to keep them alive.
Kolstov, however, would die. Just not tonight.
“Aflora?” I prompted when all she did was stare at me. “Do I need to repeat my promise a third time?”
“Uh, no.” She cleared her throat. “It’s just… I’m not sure… Well, I don’t know how to…” She trailed off, her nose scrunching the way it used to when we were kids.
My lips curled. I loved that look on her. Part confusion, part annoyance. Not at me, but at herself. Which was how I figured out what she meant. “You don’t know how to invade their dreams.”
She shook her head slowly.
My smile grew. “How disingenuous of them. I know they’ve played in your mind countless times, yet no one ever showed you how to return the favor?”
“I learned how to take over, um, in my own ways.”
Memories of her naked body beneath me populated my mind, heating my blood. “Oh, I’m very familiar with your methods, little star.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I thought you were a figment.”
“I know,” I replied, slowly leaning forward to give her a chance to move. When she didn’t, I lightly brushed my lips against hers in a chaste kiss.
She shivered in response, remaining still.
I considered that a minor victory and a prelude to our long battle ahead.
“Every bit of what I did to you was real,” I whispered. “When you’re ready for a live performance, let me know, and I’ll show you what happens when I’m in control.” I kissed her again—a bolder touch, but still soft—and pulled back to study her flushed cheeks.
She’d stopped breathing.
Not out of fear, but something similar.
Rather than push the subject, I decided to offer her another olive branch in the form of a lesson. “Close your eyes, Aflora. I’m going to teach you the dream charms.”
MY THUMPING HEART made hearing Zakkai’s whispered spell difficult. But I eventually caught on to what he wanted me to say, and uttered the incantation in my mind while focusing on Zeph. His proclivity for defensive magic made him an ideal candidate to fend off Zakkai should he choose to go against his promise.
I’m not going to hurt them, Zakkai murmured through our link. You’ll see.
If you betray me, I’ll never trust you, I replied.
I would never use you to hurt them because it would put you at risk, too. He uttered the words with such finality that, for a moment, I almost believed him on instinct.
Then my brain reminded me that he wanted to kill Kols, and I went back to being concerned about this dream.
It’s not working, I said.
Because you’re overthinking it and worrying about me instead of focusing on your Warrior Blood, he replied. Just take a breath and relax, Aflora. Imagine where you want to go and try again.
He made it sound so easy. Under any other circumstances, I would have agreed with him. But having him beside me and knowing what he intended to do made me wary to engage my mates.
A rush of emotion warmed my bond to Zakkai, the sensation catching me off guard as he flooded my mind with his thoughts.
All of them at once.
His frustration over me wasting time fretting over an inconsequential item, followed by his assurances that he meant me and the others no harm, and finalized by a surge of protective energy that highlighted his need to keep me safe.
That final strand of his thoughts displayed the conflict he refused to engage—harming my mates through my mind would harm me, too.
“And I won’t do that,” he said out loud. “Give me a chance, Aflora. You knew me once. I might not be that boy anymore, but my vow of protection still remains. Which my soul has proved these last few months. You’ve pulled on my powers more than once. I could have stopped you. But I’ve never put a leash on you. Or a collar.”
Those three words made me shiver. “You know about that?”
“I could feel it,” he replied through his teeth. “There were many moments that I wanted to find you, but I knew you weren’t ready. That was the whole purpose of the song. The moment you sang those words, the countdown began. And here we are.”
“You’re being much more forthcoming now,” I whispered, thinking about his riddles from earlier. Was that yesterday now? Did time really matter anymore?
“I’ve always been forthcoming, Aflora. Even in your dreams, I told you the truth.”
“You phrased the truth as questions.”
“Yes, to make you consider alternatives.”
“You could have just voiced those alternatives,” I pointed out.
I sensed his grin—something I couldn’t see because my eyes were closed, but I felt it through our bond. Or perhaps it was just his amusement and my mind had created the image of his dimples. “There are a lot of things I could have done, little star. I think I deserve some credit for not taking advantage of a very willing situation.”
My skin heated at the meaning in his tone. “I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” he interjected. “Which is why it would have been so easy.” His voice was like silk, wrapping around my nerves and drowning me in warm sensations.
I opened my eyes to find him hovering over me, his room no longer around us. Instead, we were lying on a bed of flowers, the earthy aroma heaven to my senses. “Ohh,” I breathed, my soul rejoicing at the luscious offerings in the air.
Zakkai ran his lips across my cheek to my ear.
“Do you prefer this dream, little star?” he asked, his breath warm and enticing against my skin. “We could do whatever you want here. A fantasy. No rules. No dark destinies. Just us reveling in a bond we’ve never truly consummated.” He kissed the sensitive pulse point of my neck, sending a jolt down my spine.
My thighs clenched around his muscular hips. He still wore his boxers, but nothing else. And I was naked beneath him—something that should have concerned me, but the bed of earth felt too good against my skin to complain.
“This…” I trailed off on a sigh as his lips met my collarbone.
“You know the spell,” he said against my skin. “Either use it, or we’ll stay here and play.” He started a path downward to my breasts, causing my mind to blink in and out of focus as I fought to hold on to our purpose.
Zeph, I thought. I’m supposed… to dream… of Zeph.
“Tick-tock, Aflora,” Zakkai murmured, his teeth skimming my nipple with the words. “Make a choice.”
I threaded my fingers through his long white hair and pulled him back up to my mouth. “Stop distracting me.”
He pressed his lips to mine, his palm resting against my cheek. Make me, he taunted into my mind, his tongue tracing a dangerous path along the seam of my mouth.
If I let him inside, I would lose all my senses.
Because Zakkai was a kissing god. I’d learned that in previous dreams. He knew how to render me utterly useless with his skilled tongue.
No, no, no, I thought, fighting for control.
Zeph had taught me better than this.
I focused on our mate-bond and the door blocking me from his mind. Take it down! I demanded, irritated by the block.
Not my spell to remove, Zakkai replied, his nose skimming my cheek. “Shade put it there, star,” he whispered into my ear. “Dismantle it.”
“Why did he put it there?”
“I imagine he’s concerned that I might be able to access him and Zephyrus through your mind.” He grazed my neck with his teeth, then focused on my pulse again.
“Can you do that?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “However, if Shade felt the need to block me, it suggests he’s either foreseen the act or it’s happened in another timeline.”
“Timeline?” I repeated.
“Has he not told yo
u about his penchant for playing with time?” Zakkai went to his elbows on either side of my head, his white hair falling like a curtain around me. “One of his best friends is a Paradox Fae. Kyros.”
“Tricksters,” I whispered, recalling the time Shade had mentioned playing with a time-dweller. He’d been talking to Ajax about it before Advanced Conjuring class.
That’d been the day I picked up a rock and lived through the explosion at the Academy.
An explosion Zakkai had orchestrated.
“You planted the rock,” I said, cold water rushing through my veins at the memory. “You made me live through the explosion.”
Zakkai stared down at me with a note of confusion lurking in his blue eyes. “Which rock?”
“From Advanced Conjuring class.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Headmaster Irwin taught us a psychometry spell to call on the history of objects. My object was a rock from the explosion. I was you. I waved my wand and said, ‘Alqisian,’ and a voice told me that this was my future—that I would one day be you.”
Zakkai rolled off of me to lounge on his elbow at my side, his expression clouded. “Who was with you during this class?”
“Shade,” I replied.
“Engage him in a dream first. I want to know what he felt.”
I blinked at him, confused. “What he felt?”
“It wasn’t me, Aflora. I’m curious if he knows who sent the rock or if he still has it. Knowing Shade, he pocketed it. Let’s ask him, hmm?”
“But he…? I don’t…?” I cleared my throat. “You didn’t send the rock?”
“Not my style,” he drawled. “Let’s talk to Shade. He might be easier to connect to.”
“Why?”
Zakkai lifted a shoulder. “Because he’s welcome inside my wards.”
“He is?”
“Death Bloods have always served Quandary Bloods. Most of them still do.” He shrugged again. “It’s why Death Bloods used to be the royals of the Midnight Fae. Quandary Bloods used Death Bloods to harness the source power. Many thought—and still believe—that Quandary Bloods were working for the Death Bloods. But that’s never been the case.”
That was… a lot of interesting information. But my thoughts had already returned to the rock. If Zakkai didn’t send it to me, then who did? Was he lying? Maybe. Although, I wasn’t sure what he had to gain by such a lie.
Unless he meant to goad me into dreaming up my mates.
No, that couldn’t be right. It’d been my idea from the beginning. Well, not an idea, but a demand. And I was wasting all this time debating it rather than acting on it.
I shook my head, clearing it, and closed my eyes to focus on Zeph again. Zakkai had requested Shade, but I wanted my Warrior Blood mate first. He wasn’t the one who had willingly handed me over. While I knew a reasonable explanation existed—or I hoped one did—I hadn’t forgiven Shade yet. I’d consider it after he told me why he’d made that decision.
The connection between me and Zeph was riddled with purple lines. Shade’s spell.
I poked at it and studied the structure.
It was a solid enchantment. But I could see the minuscule threads at the end—the ones that allowed me to slowly unweave and learn the spell.
I considered stopping, aware that Shade had put this here to block Zakkai, but if I could unravel it, so could my Quandary Blood mate. That made it all a moot point and more of a hindrance than a necessity.
“Very good, Aflora,” Zakkai whispered.
His words momentarily distracted me from my goal, causing the band to snap back in place. “Stop spying on me.”
“I’m not spying,” he replied, his knuckles brushing my cheek. “I can just feel your magic. You’re a natural.”
“You mean an abomination,” I corrected, peeking at him.
He smirked. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Which I suppose you’ve been taught to believe, but that’s an erroneous assessment driven by those in power.”
“Shade once said something similar. He said those in charge don’t like crossbreeding.”
“He’s right,” Zakkai murmured, his touch drifting down to my throat. “Go back to your task, Aflora. I promise not to interrupt again.”
I considered him for a moment, then closed my eyes again.
Shade’s magic reappeared immediately, my affinity for puzzles flaring to life. Zakkai’s hand left my collarbone to drift down my arm, where he linked our hands, his magic flourishing through my veins in response.
I engaged my link to him while playing with Shade’s threads, my mind memorizing the magic in case I needed to replace it. Zakkai would still be able to undo it, but maybe I could add a few enhancements to slow him down.
If that was even needed.
His protective energy seemed to hum around me, assuring me that he wouldn’t put me at risk. It could all be a lie. But a childlike part of me wanted to believe him. To test him. To see if he meant it.
His thumb whispered over my wrist, the touch reassuring.
“If this is all a trick, I’ll hate you forever,” I whispered as I tugged on the final strand of Shade’s spell.
Zakkai didn’t reply.
I nearly halted as a result but decided there was only one way to really know his intentions. So I pushed through the link to Zeph’s mind and hummed the spell Zakkai had taught me.
Tanoomeen Ma Ana.
Energy buzzed around me as I pictured the place I wanted—the park in New York City that he’d taken me to—and I opened my eyes to find him leaning against a tree in jeans and a button-down shirt. His green eyes narrowed at me before looking over my shoulder. “What is this?”
“I believe they call it a dream,” Zakkai drawled as he stepped up to my back to wrap his arms around my waist. “Well done, little star,” he whispered against my ear before dropping a kiss beneath my ear.
I tensed, waiting for him to say or do more, but all he did was hold me, his warmth a blanket of comfort against my back.
Zeph studied us beneath his intense gaze, his lips flattened into a line. “Who created the dream?” he finally said after a long minute of silence.
I swallowed. “Um, I did.” I thought that would be obvious by the scenery, but I could see where he might think Zakkai had manufactured it from a memory in my head. The Quandary Blood was fond of playing with my mind, after all.
He gently nibbled my earlobe. “I heard that.”
“Stay out of my head,” I replied.
“That’s not part of our arrangement, star. When dreaming, I’ll be monitoring all communication and thoughts. It’s a trust exercise, remember?”
My lips twisted as Zeph further narrowed his gaze. “Trust exercise?” he repeated.
“He agreed to let me dream-walk with my mates in exchange for—”
“It’s a test of trust,” Zakkai interjected. “I’m proving that I won’t harm you via her connection to you.” You can’t tell them about the Blood Gala, he added into my mind. They can’t know about our plans to attend.
Oh. Right. I cleared my throat. “He’s trying to make me more agreeable.”
“You look pretty agreeable to me,” Zeph replied, his gaze dropping to Zakkai’s arms around my waist. “He’s had you for, what, a day? And you’re already allowing him to teach you spells?”
The admonishment in his tone made me bristle a bit. “If I recall right, I let you whisk me off to a magical wardrobe shop during our first day together.”
“You didn’t let me do anything, Aflora. You protested everything, even the spaghetti.”
“You don’t like spaghetti?” Zakkai interjected, sounding amused.
“She doesn’t like a lot of things,” Zeph informed him flatly, pushing off the tree. “Why am I really here, Quandary Blood? What spell have you woven through her mind?”
“Several,” Zakkai replied. “But this dream is all her. I don’t even know where we are.”
Zeph snorted. �
�You expect me to believe that? After you put Kols in a magical coma?”
“Kols is in a coma?” I repeated on a gasp. I spun around in Zakkai’s arms. “You promised not to hurt anyone!”
Zakkai rolled his eyes. “I didn’t hurt him. He attacked my spell and I retaliated, just as I said I would do. And that happened in your initial dream, not this one. He’s also perfectly fine.”
Zeph came to stand right beside me, his focus on Zakkai. “He was unconscious in his bed seconds ago.”
“Last time I checked, naps weren’t painful,” my Quandary Blood mate drawled. “Bring him into the dream, Aflora. Have him confirm for himself.”
“Don’t,” Zeph warned. “It’s a trap.”
Zakkai just shook his head. “You should have started with Shade. He’s much more agreeable.”
I considered them both, my mind reaching through the connection to read both mates. Zeph’s innate distrust hit me square in the heart, while Zakkai’s essence boasted tranquility and sincerity.
I met his silver-blue eyes, studying him intently.
It was a risk.
One I needed to take to know the truth.
“Tanoomeen Ma Ana,” I whispered, my mind focusing on Kols to bring him into the dream.
I STUDIED Kols and Zeph on the bed and frowned.
Aflora’s essence flourished around them, her magic weaving a dream spell that held them both captive to her mind.
Zakkai must have shown her how to do that, but I couldn’t figure out why. He’d never willingly allowed her to dance in the dreams of her mates before.
Of course, this was the most she’d ever bonded to any of us. At least as far as I knew.
Would this finally be the rendition of our fate that worked? Or was this a sign of the ultimate failure?
A Paradox Fae couldn’t fix death—something Kyros and Tadmir had both warned me about from the very beginning. Once a life strand ended, it couldn’t be brought back into a timeline.
Not without an anchor, anyway.
And I wasn’t even sure if that could work.
I considered the two men on the bed, debating my next move. I wanted to join them. I also needed to talk to Ajax.