by Zora Marie
8
Arlen
“Arlen.” Dorn shook his shoulder.
“Hm? What is it?” Arlen asked groggily. A wave of terror wrenched through his body, worse than what he’d felt when cities had crumbled into chaos around him. Shooting up, he knew in an instant the terror was not his own. “She’s projecting?” he asked, but Dorn was already gone. Leaping from his bed, he followed his mate to Rina’s room.
“No! Let him go!” Rina yelled, thrashing in the bed, the blankets tangled around her.
“It’s just a dream.” Dorn caught her from falling onto the floor as she continued to thrash. “Rina, wake up. Please, wake up.”
Her eyes opened wide. Scrambling away from Dorn, she moved like a cornered animal.
“Rina, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.” A flash of recognition lit her eyes. Slowly, the fear started to fade.
Her brows twitched as she stared at the blankets ensnaring her legs. Her breaths came on a strained whisper, far too fast and shallow. Pulling her into a hug, Dorn held her close.
Rocking, she stared distantly across the room. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Arlen’s heart broke at the sight. He’d seen humans and fae react this way before, but they’d never been his family. This was Rye’s daughter, the only piece he had left of his twin, and he’d failed her.
A knock sounded on the door to the hallway. He tensed. He didn’t want to leave Rina like this, yet he didn’t know how to fix it either.
Meeting his gaze, Dorn nodded for him to get it. With a deep breath, Arlen went to the door, trying to shake the terror that had coursed through him a moment ago. With every step he took away from her, dread coiled in him. Projections were easy to learn, but until she mastered shielding, Dorn wouldn’t really be sleeping. He knew his mate well enough to know he’d block her from the rest of him, but not himself. Dorn would never cut someone off like that, especially not family.
“Is everything all right?” Fen asked, his voice muffled by the wood door.
Opening the door, he found the boy standing there in a disheveled mess, his shirt only half buttoned and the drawstring of his pants untied. “Sorry if we woke you,” Arlen said.
“Is she…Is Rina all right?”
“She’s fine, just a nightmare. Look, now’s not really a good time.”
Fen nodded, his gaze latched onto Rina’s room. Wisps of shadow, black as the gaps between the stars, pooled around Fen’s bare feet and curled in his hair. They gave Arlen the impression that Fen had shadow walked to their door, as if the boy couldn’t bear the time it’d take to run from one end of the house to the next.
“Really, she’s fine. We didn’t know she could project like that.”
Fen blinked. His shadows faded. “No, it’s all right. I just wanted to make sure she was okay.” He ran a hand through his hair and retreated down the hallway.
Shaking his head, he returned to Rina’s room. Her projection shouldn’t have pulled Fen from his room at the far end of the house.
“Who was it?” Dorn asked.
“Fen.”
Dorn looked just as puzzled by that as he was, but he, too, shrugged it off.
“Sorry for waking you.” Rina wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Don’t be.” Sitting behind Dorn, Arlen wrapped both of them in a hug. He wished he could take all her fear and sadness away, but he knew she needed time. If he were honest with himself, he needed time to accept that Lyra was truly gone, too. He had feared it for years, but now, even after all this time, he still caught himself checking over his shoulder, expecting Rye to be right on his heels or for him to crack a joke at the most inopportune moment. Rye would have been joking, getting Rina to laugh through the pain of loss and embarrassment. It pained Arlen to know she would never meet him. Perhaps telling her about him would help, or at least distract her. “Would you like me to tell you about your father?”
She nodded jerkily.
“In that case, I’ll go make us some tea,” Dorn said.
As his mate left, Rina stared at him expectantly. He rolled over where to start as he moved to lean back against the mound of pillows on the bed. There were so many things that he could say and tell her, but he wanted something that would take her mind off her nightmare.
“For starters, most people referred to him as Rye. We did everything together growing up and got each other into a lot of trouble.”
“You? In trouble?”
“Hard to believe, I know. I would blame it all on Rye, but I came up with my fair share of horrible plans. Sometimes we would dress the same so we could go into town and play tricks on people. Only a few people knew us well enough in those days to tell us apart. Sometimes Rye would play tricks on me, too.”
Dorn returned with a small tray holding three little cup-sized bowls. Steam rose off them.
“How did you make tea that fast?” Rina asked.
“I may not be as good as Ash at fire magic, but I do have some abilities,” Dorn said, a bit of humor in his tone as he handed her a cup.
Arlen couldn’t help but smile as he watched her take a deep breath, pulling in the flowery scent of the tea. The way she took a tentative sip of it had him wondering if she’d ever had tea before.
“What kind is this?” she asked.
“It’s a mix of passionflower and thyme. I find that the mix helps with nightmares and it doesn’t taste half bad.”
“Certainly better than what Tom and I made.”
It seemed the two had done a lot together. Arlen was about to mention that when he realized those moments would have been few and far between. With Tomilin’s back having been broken and her forced to provide food for them, they probably hardly saw each other. Dorn handed him one of the cream-colored cups, offering him something to do before he could stick his foot in his mouth.
“Well, if you like this,” Dorn said, “I would love to teach you about the different kinds of teas and their uses, as well as where to look for the flowers and herbs.”
“Really?”
“Of course, but we also need to work on you controlling your powers.”
“Powers?”
Dorn nodded. “Your nightmare… You were projecting your emotions. We should have suspected it since you’re an empath. Many empaths can project, though most have very limited abilities. Lyra, your mother, was an exception, as you seem to be. The more sensitive the empath, the more powerful the projections. It works as a counterbalance. Her sensitivity was part of why we grew so close. Being able to project fear is great in a fight as long as you don’t feel it yourself. I’m a poor projector, so your mother would project and I’d block her from the rebound.”
“Wait, back up. So you felt that?”
“We all did,” Arlen said. “Even those of us who are not empaths.”
“All?”
Dorn nodded. “I’ll block you from the others while you sleep tonight, but we’ll need to start working on your control tomorrow.”
“Don’t you need to sleep, too?”
He waved passively. “Don’t worry about me. You’re not the first I’ve blocked for. The power always manifests while you're sleeping and I’m one of the few fae in town who can block for others.”
His mate made it sound like an easy task, but Arlen knew better. He didn’t understand Dorn’s powers completely, but he knew enough to know that an invisible wall between someone’s emotions and the world ate at his energy and his ability to focus. His mate would give his life away to help someone. It was one of the things he loved about Dorn, even if it drove him mad at times. Usually blocking wasn’t a huge deal. It exhausted Dorn, but he knew this would be different. The fear he had felt come off of Rina, that would wear on his mate. Dorn could block her from himself, too, but Arlen knew that Dorn wouldn’t sleep if he couldn’t feel her.
After taking the last sip of his tea, Arlen set the cup down on the tray. Yawning, Rina did the same.
“I’ll take care of these,” he said, picking up t
he tray before Dorn could. “You made it. I’ll clean it.” He flashed Dorn a playful smile before leaving the room, hoping his mate could convince Rina to go back to sleep in his absence.
The only sound in the hall was the whisper of his own feet as he walked. Halfway to the kitchen, Arlen felt a familiar pulse of a lord’s power. Knowing he was about to run into Farin, Arlen wondered what Dorn had already told him - if anything.
As he stepped into the kitchen, he found his lord sitting on the edge of the counter, drinking a cup of tea.
“How is she?” he asked.
“All right, all things considered.” Setting the cups in the sink, he turned on the water and grabbed a washcloth. “How’s Fen? He seemed a little…”
“He’s concerned about her, but fine. Although, I’m not sure how he felt her before I did.”
“I was wondering about that. He was there nearly as quickly as we were.”
Farin nodded, then shrugged as if shaking off an idea that didn’t add up.
“What?” Arlen asked.
“Oh, nothing. If she were his mate, he would have kicked your door down to get to her—or shadow walked into her room.”
“Just as well. She has enough on her plate right now and him kicking the door down or appearing from thin air probably wouldn’t have helped anyone. She’s jumpy enough as it is.”
“Well, make sure you and Dorn get some rest. The two of you are responsible for teaching her. I’ll have Amber and Ash pick up your other responsibilities for the next few weeks while you get Rina through the first hurdles of shifting and controlling her projections.” Farin slid from the counter and set his cup in the sink next to the others.
“Are you sure?” Arlen asked, knowing the girls were going to give Farin a lot of flak over that.
His lord paused in the doorway. “They won’t mind. No one can fake that level of fear. I’m sorry I didn’t let you go sooner. Maybe you could have saved her brother, too, if you had.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I would have found her if I had gone sooner.”
Farin nodded. “Fate is a cruel mistress.”
Sighing, he rinsed the dishes, then set them on the counter to dry. Farin was right. Fate was cruel.
9
Rina
A tendril of worry and fear coiled inside her. Lying on her side, she stared out the window at the fading moon and stars. So much had changed in so little time. She had just met Dorn and Arlen, yet already it felt as though she had known them for a lifetime. Lifetime, she mused. Even her perception of that was changing. If she could learn to shift into her fae form, she would have centuries upon centuries to live and explore rather than decades.
Staring out the window, Rina wondered what she would look like when she shifted. Pointed ears were a given, but would she be taller and slimmer like they all seemed to be. Would she suddenly move with the same smooth grace they all seemed to have or would she be even clumsier in a new body? Would her scars stay or would they only exist in this form? She didn’t know, but she wanted to find out. Wanted to see if she saw anymore of her father’s features in her fae form.
She only managed to lie in contented silence for a few more minutes before her thoughts circled back to her nightmare. Her stomach soured at the thought that she’d made them feel the same things she had. That they’d experienced even that much of her memories made her want to disappear, yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave. They were nice, perhaps too nice, but she had nowhere else to go. If she left without learning to control her projections, she’d have to go back to the human lands where her magic would be smothered. Besides, an ever growing part of her would wonder what she’d left behind. She had to see this through. Needed to try with these people, for her own sake if nothing else.
Rolling over, she noticed a small bundle of black cloth sitting on the foot of her bed. There was a little note on top of it, and she picked it up, staring at the familiar letter forms. Lyra had tried to teach her to read whenever Jake was away, but those times had been few and far between. By the time her mother had passed away, Rina had only learned a handful of words.
A sudden soft knock on the door caused her to jump.
“Rina?” Dorn asked in concern.
“Come in.”
“Sorry if I woke…” He trailed off when he saw the note in her hands. “So that’s where Farin put it. What’s Ash’s note say?”
“I…” She stopped, embarrassment burning her cheeks. The paper crinkled as she fidgeted.
Sitting beside her on the bed, he asked, “How far did Lyra get in teaching you?” He gently took the note from her hands.
“We had started to sound out words when Mother…” She swallowed as pain laced her heart. Everything seemed to boil down to the loss of her mother and brother, the only family she had ever known. “I taught Tomilin what I knew. It helped me keep it fresh in my own mind, but I felt his disappointment the day I told him I didn’t know anything more.” She stared blankly at the dresser across the room.
Pulling her into a hug, Dorn pressed a kiss to her temple. She didn’t let herself feel any of his warmth, not when it reminded her so much of her brother and mother. Her emotions smoothed into hollow indifference. It was better than breaking down again.
“None of that is your fault and I’m willing to bet he adored you, even if you couldn’t teach him more.”
She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “So, what’s the note say?”
Dorn’s lips were pursed as he let go of her, a knowing look in his eyes. He didn’t call her out on her deflection as he angled the note between them. “It says, ‘We’ll be by for you once we finish our tasks for the morning. Tell Fen to fork over a belt if the pants are too loose.’” Dorn folded the note back up. “That gives you plenty of time to join us all for breakfast if you’d like. I’m not sure what we’re having, but Fen’s a wonderful cook.” With another squeeze of her shoulder, he released her and prepared to stand.
Before he could though, she asked, “I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”
Dorn’s gaze roamed her face for a long moment before he answered, “Yes, but that’s to be expected. We’ll start your training this afternoon, but for now I want you to relax and get to know your new home.”
When he left, the air beside her felt cold and empty, prompting her to dress quickly.
They were easily the nicest things she’d ever worn. Even the fabric of the under clothes was thick and sturdy. The shirt was a little baggy on her, especially in the chest area, but it fit well enough. The pants were littered with pockets like Ash and Amber’s had been at dinner, only these were all devoid of weapons. She sort of wished they hadn’t been as she laced the boots that were a surprisingly good fit.
Opening the door, Rina joined the two males in the sitting room. They sat on the couch, Dorn leaning against Arlen, their fingers intertwined. It was such a casual show of affection that it made Rina realize that she’d never seen anyone just wanting to be in someone else’s presence before.
“That was quick,” Dorn said, his emotions changing from worry to happy in a way she felt was forced.
“You know, you don’t have to do that for me.”
“Do what?”
“Shift your emotions for my sake. I’ve been feeling people’s emotions since I was little. Feeling yours won’t break me.”
“But they will wear on you over time, especially if you don’t learn how to tune or block others out.”
A featherlight knock on their door stopped her replying. Turning, Rina found Fen standing in the open doorway to their quarters.
“Breakfast is ready,” he said, an unspoken question in the worry and curiosity lacing his emotions.
“Thank you,” Dorn replied as he made his way to the door.
Stepping out of his way, Fen let Dorn take the lead. Arlen followed next, but Rina paused in front of Fen. “Sorry for waking you last night,” she said.
Fen nodded, his concern bleeding through for just a moment befo
re disappearing into embarrassment. “It’s all right.” His pale blue eyes never left hers, but his embarrassment made her look away.
“So I hear you made breakfast this morning,” she said, figuring he needed a change in topic as much as she did, even if she wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed.
Fen shrugged. “I just made pancakes. There’s not much to them.”
“Pancakes?”
“You’ve never had pancakes?”
“No.”
“Well, now I wish I would have made blueberry pancakes,” Fen said, a hint of a smile on his lips.
Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure what it was about Fen, but she felt drawn to him. Of course, if she were honest with herself, she felt drawn to all of them. Their love and comradery called her as if she were a moth and they a flame. She just hoped she didn’t get burned by it, and if she didn’t, she wished Tomilin was there. Then everything would’ve been perfect. It would have been a dream she never dared wish for.
“I’m sure Dorn told you the same, but I’m here if you ever need to talk.” Fen’s emotions dipped with her own.
“I’m projecting again, aren’t I?” she asked, avoiding the topic of her nightmares.
Fen shrugged. “It’s all right. Your mother used to project when she was tired.”
She knew he’d meant that as a way to comfort her, but it just made her sad. It seemed everyone knew her mother so much better than she did. They walked the hall in silence, the lies her mother had told left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her memories were disjointed as she tried to fit them into this new reality. She understood why her mother did it, yet none of those memories felt right anymore. The names were all wrong and the stories weren’t the same, not now that she knew they were about Arlen and Rye—about their family. Gods she needed a run and some time to sit and think in the humming silence of the forest.
“Good morning,” Farin said, breaking her from her thoughts, as they entered the dining room. “Breakfast looks delicious as usual, Fen.”