Brie
At first I think I’m dreaming that I’m in my room in Veiled Valley. Familiar smells and textures unravel my senses, shielding me in a sense of calm serenity I haven’t felt in a very long time. Sunlight trickles through the curtains as they lift in a soft, warm summer breeze. Birdsong flutters through the air, breaking through murmured conversation nearby, but it sounds like a gorgeous day outside. The kind of summer day I’d spend in the garden before shifting and running into the mountains to that overlook, where a waterfall funnels back toward the city of deep, emerald green and crystal.
The vision fades for the space of a breath, my eyes growing heavy once again. I wonder what I’ll dream of next? I hope it’s a good dream.
But my stomach rolls and pitches, and I choke on a cough. Bright pain tingles through my body, settling at the base of my neck where a headache of epic proportions explodes, and suddenly wherever I am is too bright and far too loud.
I groan, twisting into the pillows behind my head, trying to shield my eyes from damning sunlight that makes me feel sick to my stomach. “Ohhhh,” I moan, whimpering against the sharp ache radiating through my skull. I wait for the ship to lull me back to sleep, praying it happens soon to put me out of my misery, but hands grasp my shoulders, hurried voices coming in all directions.
“Brie, honey?” Mom says, her hand cool against my fevered skin as she slides her fingers into my hair. “Sweetheart?”
I open my eyes to slits, turning my head ever so slightly to look up. She’s hazy, but she’s here…. My mom. What–what happened? Where am I?
My lips part to ask, but the pain bursts again, shimmering across my brain like tiny, hot needles.
“It’s a migraine,” Misty says nearby, but I can’t see her through the haze. Lights dance in my eyes, distorting the room. “She’s going to be okay–”
“From the jump?” Mom whispers to her. “That’s new–”
“She’s so stressed, Kenna. It doesn’t surprise me at all–”
“But what if it’s not just a headache? What if something happened, and she’s–”
Fingers curl around my forearm. My skin pebbles as tendrils of what I can only describe as ice fan over my skin, sinking into the pain and gnawing at it. It only takes a second for the pain to ebb away, replaced by that cold sensation that feels incredibly refreshing, but still I shiver, my teeth chattering as my vision abruptly clears, and the room finally rushes into view.
The mural on my ceiling, the stars and the moon cycle, distract me from the women bickering nearby and the shuffling of feet. I slowly turn my head, watching as Misty ties her long, golden hair away from her face and plants her hands on her hips, speaking to my mom in low tones.
“She’s fine, really. She’s just exhausted. Maeve’s powers are…” Misty licks her lips, shaking her head. “I’m going to stick around for a few days, all right? Just in case.”
“You should go back to the kids, Misty.”
“Cole’s got it handled. He’s worried sick, but just–we’re all just so happy she’s home. Everything’s fine.” Misty squeezes Mom’s arm before glancing at me, her eyes wet with unshed tears as her lips pull into a watery smile. “Hey, honey. I’m glad you’re home. We missed you so much.” Her voice splinters, a single silver-blue-hued tear catching on her eyelashes before rolling down her cheek, her healing powers riling inside of it.
“Hi,” I manage to murmur but my voice is a shattered mess. My throat is dryer than the desert of Tarsian when I try to swallow. Misty’s powers continue their slow journey through my body, easing aches and pains I hadn’t realized I suffered from.
Misty leaves the room and Mom comes to my side, sniffling as she brushes my hair away from my face, her silver eyes shining with shreds of grief but mostly a desperate, undeniable happiness. “We thought we lost you.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage, swallowing past the lump in my throat. Memories flood back. Maeve brought us here. I remember the moment her powers enveloped me in their madness, their darkness, and I fell to pieces under the weight of it. “How long have I been out?”
“Just a few hours,” she says breathlessly. “It’s just past lunch. Are you hungry?”
I shake my head.
“Tea, then? Anything?”
“Tea would be fine–”
A crash bounces through the room as a tea-tray drops from thin air, rattling as it settles on my bedside table. I close my eyes, smiling as a rush of air lifts strands of my hair off the pillows in a strange, paranormal embrace. “Thank you,” I whisper to the castle as it groans and creaks in answer, followed by a rogue sugar bowl that drops onto the tray so hard it nearly knocks the steaming tea-pot over. Mom steadies the tray at the last second, exhaling sharply as she eyes the trembling curtains.
“The house is a bit worked up. We all are. It’s a been a–been an interesting, slightly overwhelming day.”
She helps me into a seated position, her hands shaking as she smooths the duvet over my lap. I notice quite abruptly that I’m wearing my favorite pajama set–sage green silk with little tortoise shell buttons on the shirt. I pick at it, meeting her eyes.
Her cheeks flare with a soft blush as she shrugs, reaching for the teapot. “Your clothing got a little scorched when Maeve spirited you here.” Her eyes brush over the spot on my chest where… Oh, gods. Oh, Goddess of above–
“Mom,” I breathe, but she shakes her head, clasping my hand.
“We’ll talk about that later–”
“Is he here?” My heart squeezes painfully. Misty’s lingering healing powers rush into my chest to try to fix whatever they think is wrong with it, but panic feels my body with dread so deep I might drown.
“Logan?” Mom asks, and nods. “Yeah, he’s here. He’s downstairs with Aviva and Ryan. He spent–he spent most of the day here, but Aviva was adamant he eat something so–so, well, she had to drag him out by his ear in the end, but he’s here, honey, in the castle. He’s okay.”
I slump against the pillows. She sinks to the side of the mattress and pours me a cup of tea. I watch her add four spoonfuls of sugar, then think better of it, and add two more before stirring in an enormous helping of cream.
“Drink this. You’ll feel better instantly. It’s those nasty herbs I make your father take, but they help.”
I obey, closing my eyes against the bitter, acrid taste she tried to camouflage with sugar, which barely takes the edge off. She rises and flutters around me like a mother bird, picking at my hair, adjusting my blankets, fluffing my pillows, always keeping at least on hand on me like there’s a risk I’ll up and disappear.
“Are you okay?” I ask after several aching minutes spent watching my mother start to come apart at the seams.
“I am,” she says tearfully, giving me a smile that I know is forced. “I–I am so sorry that happened to you again. I–I couldn’t stop thinking about the first time, you know, while you were gone. Your father–Goddess, he was just….” She can’t finish. Her grief is painted over her face in harsh, deep lines that make her look decades older than she is. I realize she hasn’t slept at all in the month we were gone.
My heart sinks to my stomach, splintering into pieces. “I’m not going anywhere ever again. I promise.”
Her mouth quivers into a smile. She takes a few breaths to calm herself, her lips parting to speak, but footsteps echo toward us in the spiraling stairwell leading out of the tower.
We both turn as a looming shadow darkens the doorway. Logan steps into the light, dressed casually in clothes similar to the outfit he wore that morning on the ferry. It’s almost like we’ve gone back in time to the morning that changed everything for us. I half expect to look down at the floor and see my suitcase there, or to hear the soft hum of the engine of the car parked in the driveway–the same car we were sitting in when we rejected each other.
That feels like a lifetime ago.
Logan braces his hands on the doorframe. Aviva peaks around his side. I always forget how small she is until she’s standing near one of the incredibly tall men in the family.
“Are you okay?” Logan asks, his voice trembling a bit.
I nod, giving him a watery smile, my breath catching in my throat as I watch his shoulders relax and his expression soften.
He looks at my mom like he’s waiting for her permission to enter my room. Mom rises from the bed, dabbing her eyes with the back of her hands, “Aviva, is Evander still in the dining room?”
Aviva brushes under Logan’s arm, shaking her head. “He went with Sydney and Ryatt to Moonrise for the rest of the afternoon. I’m not sure why. Ryan’s downstairs, though. Do you need help with anything?”
Logan’s still looking at me, his eyes locked on mine as Aviva and my mom talk about… well, I’m not even sure anymore. Their voices fade as Logan breaks away from the doorframe and edges in my direction, throwing the women a quick glance before picking up his pace as he closes in on my bed.
“Hey,” he rasps, eyes wide and dark as he takes me in. He breathes heavily–like he’s been holding that breath for ages–and sinks onto the edge of the mattress.
“Hey,” I reply weakly, reaching for him. The moment my fingertips brush his arm, he launches at me, curling his arms around me in the tightest squeeze.
I bury my face in his shoulder as he hauls me into his lap, kneeling on the bed–my bed–in my room, in Veiled Valley.
We made it back against all odds, and it’s overwhelming.
Mom and Aviva go totally silent. I hear the softest chuckle and a whispered murmur before their footsteps retreat, and my bedroom door softly, slowly, closes with a faint click.
I burst into tears, babbling words and rushed apologies that don’t make sense. He kisses the words away, his cheeks damp with my tears, or his, I can’t tell.
But we’re home. Home–and together.
He pulls away only slightly, resting his forehead against mine as he gasps for breath before saying, “Misty came downstairs and told us you’d woken up. I wanted–I tried to stay here. I wanted to be here when you did, but Aviva insisted I eat something and I just–” He closes his eyes, whispering a soft curse under his breath. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m okay, really. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I think I always will.”
My arms brush over his shoulders, curling round his neck. He nuzzles me close, pressing a kiss to the top of my shoulder, then my temple, whispering that he loves me, that he’s sorry.
“We won’t be alone for long,” he whispers, laying me down against the pillows. His expression shifts, his eyes going dark and wolfish even in the sunlight. I catch the shadows dancing behind his gaze, the concern.
“What happened?” I ask, knitting my fingers in his to prevent him from getting off the bed.
“Nothing you need to be concerned about–”
“They know we’re mates, though.”
“Yes,” he says simply, his gaze holding on mine. “They do.” I watch the column of his throat bob as he swallows.
I arch a brow. “How… you look nervous.”
“I really pissed off your grandfather,” he admits, shrugging one shoulder.
“Grandpa’s always pissed off about something.”
“He is… not happy about this,” he continues.
My heart sinks.
“But everyone else is. Your father offered me a promotion,” he says on an exhale.
“To what?”
“Commander,” he says, pursing his lips. His gaze is far away, like he’s lost in thought. “I–it hasn’t been that long since we arrived, so I don’t know what else is happening, not really. I know Veiled Valley’s naval fleet went to meet Alex to guide them into the port of Avalone. I know your parents want to speak to us, and that your grandmother will be here tonight.”
He absently strokes his thumb over my knuckles, looking a bit lost in his thoughts.
“I love you,” I tell him firmly, passionately, letting the words ring out loud and clear.
“I know,” he says. “I love you, too.”
“Have you changed your mind about staying?”
“No,” he says with conviction, breathing the word like a promise. “No, Brie. I’m not leaving you.”
He winces, reaching up to rub his temple.
“What’s wrong?”
“Ryan wants to talk. He’s been trying to handle all the women in the house today while your dad, Sydney, and Ryatt do whatever the hell they’re doing.”
“I’m fine here if you need to go.”
“I’ll be back. I’ll bring you something to eat.” He rises, pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead before pulling away and stalking toward the door. He slips through it, leaving it open a crack as his footsteps descend the stairs.
I decide to test my legs, finding them weak and wobbly as Misty’s powers fight against the lingering sensation of Maeve’s magic in my blood, but eventually, I hobble toward the bathroom to catch a glimpse of my myself in the mirror, where I wince, turning back to my bedroom deciding it was a horrible idea.
But a man stands by the window in smart, expensive dark gray slacks and a white button-down shirt, his dark brown hair flaked with hints of a deep, almost cherry red in the sunlight.
My mouth pulls into a shocked smile as Blake turns to me, his violet eyes sparkling from within.
“Blake? What are you doing here?” I run to him, throwing my arms around his neck, but he only gives me a slight, half-assed squeeze in return, quickly stepping away to put some distance between us.
“We need to talk,” he says under his breath, his voice deep and unnerving. “When you’re rested and ready.”
I notice the sparkle in his eyes–that hint of the powers raging within him–and feel dread wash through my system.
“About… what?”