Page 25
Story: A Curse of Stars and Storms (The Choosing Chronicles #3)
It’s a beautiful picture, Nikhail.
Laney
It was nice of you to think of us, Nikky.
Laurie
I don’t even know how you can enjoy these things, Nikhail. Honestly, they’re disgusting.
He didn’t enjoy them, but it was too late for that.
Off on one of her tangents, Laurie started flooding the chat with articles reporting on the worsening housing crisis in the Republic, talking about how things were going from bad to worse. Soon, it would reach a breaking point, and it seemed like the Representatives and the Chancellor didn’t care.
Nikhail groaned, closing his messaging app. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the unhoused people in the Republic of Balance. It was just that he’d heard this over and over again from Laurie. Once she got on something, it was very difficult to turn her attention elsewhere.
Knowing efforts to redirect his sister would be futile, Nikhail snapped a selfie to send to his mother later.
He slid his still-vibrating phone into his pocket, aware that when he pulled it out again, he’d be greeted by hundreds of messages.
Hopefully, Krystal, Laurie’s wife, would be able to calm her down.
Making a mental note to message his sister-in-law later and check on the situation, Nikhail took in the now-crowded ballroom.
Men in black suits stood in small groups with women wearing elaborate silver and blue ballgowns.
The invitation for the party had been very clear about the night’s color scheme, and everyone was obeying.
Gods forbid anyone dare go against Tertia Waterborn’s wishes—that would be a recipe for disaster.
Nikhail placed his now-empty glass on a table, adjusting his silver tie. When he looked up, a familiar fae was approaching him.
“How are you doing, Arlo?” Nikhail clasped his old friend’s hand, shaking it vigorously. “Still working for the Representative?”
“That I am.” The water fae wore a dark blue suit, their hair pulled into a slicked-back bun with an undercut on both sides.
Arlo had served in the military for a decade before transitioning into politics.
Now they served on Representative Waterborn’s staff as a liaison between the Central Region fae and the military.
It wasn’t a position Nikhail would ever want—it involved far more politicking than he enjoyed—but it seemed to fit Arlo well.
“How are things?” Nikhail slipped his hands into his pockets. “Is the Central Region still as tense as it was?”
Arlo glanced around, and seeing that they were alone, they stepped closer. Their smile fell, and a dark look passed through their eyes.
“Yeah, and they’re getting worse.” Arlo’s voice was low, and there was no hiding the tightness in their shoulders. “Things have been difficult since the botched Reunion, but at least the damned rebels had the sense to go into hiding after. But now…”
“The Black Night is back.”
Arlo nodded grimly. “Everyone is strained, and there’s an underlying tension that’s just gotten worse over the past few months.”
“It’s the same in Lakewater,” Nikhail confirmed. On the outside, he was the picture of ease, but inside, he shuddered. His stomach pulsed where he’d been shot not long ago.
They had to be careful, discussing this here. The last thing the Representatives or the military wanted was for news to break that the Black Night had returned. So far, the Chancellor had kept that particular piece of information from the press, but she wouldn’t be able to do that forever.
Arlo rolled their shoulders. To anyone else, they would appear relaxed, but Nikhail didn’t miss the ticking in their jaw or the slight clench of their fists.
“It’s fucking bad,” Arlo said. “Rebel cells are popping up all across the Republic.”
Nikhail rolled his lips through his teeth. “Are the Central Region fae worried?”
Arlo’s mouth pinched in a line, stepping closer and lowering their voice. “They’ve doubled the protection on all the Representatives since they’ve been receiving more threats than usual. Typically, Representative Waterborn gets a couple a week, but the new ones feel different. More serious.”
“Is she the only one getting them?” he asked.
“No. Several others are receiving them, as well.”
Nikhail frowned, the new information confirming what he and his team already suspected. “Things are happening behind the scenes.”
The rebels were planning something , but for the life of them, they couldn’t figure out what it was. They were out of the loop, and it was gods-damned awful. Nikhail wasn’t used to being on the outside, and it made him anxious. The rebels had to be stopped; that much was clear.
They weren’t trying to peacefully bring about change, one law at a time. No, they were violent and not afraid of death. They’d made that clear when they killed the Chancellor’s own son-in-law.
Rumors swirled about Valentina Rose, the Chancellor’s daughter.
She hadn’t been seen in public since the night of the Reunion.
Some said that Valentina was riddled with grief and horror from the way her mother had dealt with the rebels.
Others postulated that she’d fled the Republic entirely, unable to remain here after her husband’s murder.
Some had even questioned whether Valentina had joined the rebels, but since they’d killed her husband, Nikhail could never see that happening.
More often than not, people spoke about Valentina with pity. To have lost her Chosen husband so soon after their wedding was ill luck.
Nikhail had even heard a few people whisper that it was a sign that the Roses had lost the blessings of the gods. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that—he didn’t think the gods monitored their lives all that closely—but he couldn’t deny that it was terribly sad.
“You’ll let me know if you hear anything specific regarding Representative Waterborn’s children, right?” Nikhail asked Arlo.
He wasn’t overly concerned for Ryker. Both he and Brynleigh were more than capable of looking after themselves. But if something happened to River…
The blood in Nikhail’s veins chilled, and his air magic fought to be free. A fist squeezed his lungs. His next breath felt like he was inhaling shards of glass.
No .
Nothing could ever happen to River. Nikhail would never allow it. Even if she rejected him, even if she told him she never wanted to see him again, he would never stop trying to keep her safe. Not now, not ever.
She was more precious than gold or silver, more important to him than any amount of riches. Even if she wasn’t his, he’d always do whatever it took to protect her.
A burly werewolf with glowing orange eyes approached them. “Arlo, a word, please?”
“Of course.” The water fae turned back to Nikhail, clapping him on the shoulder. “I’ll reach out if there’s any new information.”
“You have my thanks.”
Nikhail stepped away, intent on finding food, when the air shifted. The ballroom doors opened behind him, carrying the faintest hint of fresh rain to him from across the ballroom.
His hunger evaporated as if it had never even existed. What were things like hunger and thirst in the face of the need burning deep within him?
River was here. His entire body strained towards her, wanting to go to her.
Normally, this was when he would shove the part of himself that needed her deep down and ignore it. He’d remind himself that River was Ryker’s sister, and he had to leave her alone for her own good. He’d look at the wealth around him, reminding himself that he couldn’t give her what she needed.
But tonight, he wasn’t going to do that.
Slipping his fingers inside his pocket, he felt the edges of that small black box.
Tell her how you feel .
He would do just that. Drawing in a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come, Nikhail grabbed another glass of sparkling wine and turned around.
The moment his eyes fell on the entrance, he realized his mistake. How could he have thought that a few deep breaths would prepare him for this? Even if he’d had an eternity, he couldn’t have equipped himself for this. Not really.
His heart skipped a beat, and his fingers twitched around the stem of the wineglass. His fae instincts were a roaring lion within him, urging him to cross the room as quickly as possible. River’s hand should be on his arm, her eyes should be gazing up at him .
The urge to put his claim on her so that no one would ever doubt who she belonged to was so strong, it took every ounce of his control to remain in place.
Nothing, not even the strongest winds or the most powerful earthquake, could pull his gaze away from the three figures standing in the ballroom entrance.
With a beautiful woman hanging on either arm, Ryker Waterborn was the picture of ease and sophistication.
The future Representative wore a black suit, like Nikhail.
His tie matched the dark blue, nearly black shimmering gown draped over his wife’s body.
With wings as black as the night spread behind her, and blonde hair curled in soft waves that tumbled over her bare shoulders, Brynleigh Waterborn looked over the crowd with a tight smile.
Over the past couple of years, Nikhail had gotten to know his best friend’s wife. She didn’t love these types of social gatherings, and her appearance tonight meant Tertia had probably coerced her children into coming.
Nikhail couldn’t focus on Ryker and Brynleigh for long, though. That tug in his gut forced him to shift his attention, and it felt good not to fight it for once.
He’d been right the day he met River. She was a goddess brought to life, more beautiful than anyone else he’d ever seen.
A stunning vision in silver, she gripped her brother’s arm. Long gloves ran from her fingers to her elbows, her hair was twisted in an elegant knot, and a few brown tendrils artfully adorned her face. Silver raindrop earrings dangled from her pointed ears, sitting alongside two silver studs.
Her jewelry was beautiful and probably cost as much as his yearly salary, but it did not outshine her gown.
Tight on the top, it had short sleeves that hung off her shoulders.
They seemed more ornamental than functional, but he wasn’t one to judge.
The glittering dress boasted a dark silver corset that accentuated River’s lovely breasts before giving way to a layered tulle skirt that flowed from her hips to the floor.
It was a perfect composition of soft and hard, just like the woman who wore it.
The longer Nikhail stared at River, the more he noticed.
Her curves, the smooth expanse of her skin, the twitching of her fingers against her thigh.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, even if he wanted to.
And he didn’t want to. If he had his way, he’d never look away from her again.
But he’d been wrong earlier, when he said he could walk away from things if she rejected him .
No, staring at River Waterborn, Nikhail came to a terrifying conclusion.
Even if she cast him aside tonight, even if she decided he wasn’t worthy of her, he would never stop wanting her. Never stop needing her. No one else could measure up to her, nor could they mean as much to him.
It turned out that if Nikhail couldn’t have River, he didn’t want anyone at all.
Table of Contents
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- Page 25 (Reading here)
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