Page 19

Alina

AS SOON AS I GOT back into my room last night, the girls were all over me, asking me what happened with Raelan. But I just put on my best neutral smile and told them it was nothing; we simply spoke and made amends, and he returned me to my room.

They didn’t believe me.

And neither did Yuki.

But I want to keep this secret— our secret—to myself, if just because I don’t even know how to feel about it yet. When Raelan kissed me in the hallway, then again in his room last night, I felt his hunger, his desire. While I was pinned against his wall, my legs wrapped around his waist, I could feel how hard he was through his thin trousers, and it just made me want him more.

In a moment, though, he went back to the cold, professional Raelan I know, the one who treats me like a princess rather than a person, like I’m his duty and not his desire .

And I don’t know what to think. The only thing I do know is that last night after I crawled into bed and drew the drapes around the mattress for privacy, my hand slipping between my legs to relieve the pressure that had been building all evening, the only face in my mind was Raelan’s. Even now, as I lounge about the dorm room with a cup of tea, still wearing my nightdress and a thin satin robe, he’s all I can think about.

He’s probably standing outside our door right now, in his usual spot beside the stained glass window, his jaw held firm and his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration. It’s his typical look, the one I’ve come to know from him. But it’s not the one he was giving me yesterday, when his eyes burned with black and gold and his pupils tightened into thin slashes, like a beast was lurking just beneath his skin, waiting to burst free.

And burst free it did. Because of me.

I move to the window and push the drapes aside, then peer down from the tall north tower. But I can’t see the courtyard from here, can’t tell if anyone has noticed that something strange took place there amidst the storm and the torrential rain.

“Good morning,” Maeve says from behind me, startling me enough that I almost spill my cup of chamomile tea. I turn from the window and lean against it, letting the sun warm my back and shoulders.

“Morning,” I say. “Water’s hot if you want tea.”

Maeve and Poppy descend from the loft and into the main living space. They each pour a cup of tea, and then Maeve sinks down onto one of the couches, tucking her long legs beneath her, while Poppy goes to stand before the hearth, where a small fire is burning.

“Lyra still sleeping?” I ask.

“Of course she is,” Maeve says, her voice a bit husky with sleep. “Snoring like a wildebeest.”

Poppy giggles. Her short light lavender hair is pulled up halfway, and her big round glasses glint in the sunlight coming through the window behind me. She looks soft, like spun sugar at a summer festival.

“I was thinking maybe we could go into Wysteria today,” she says, voice small, timid. It’s taken her a while to start warming up to us. “My mom owns a café. We could get scones, walk around a bit.”

“Your mom owns a café?” Maeve asks, perking up. Her dark purple hair looks glossy as ink, falling over her shoulders and down her chest in a sleek sheet. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it tangled or rumpled. “Why didn’t you tell us before?”

Poppy’s cheeks go a tinge pink. “Oh, I don’t know. It just never came up, I suppose.”

“What’s it called?” I ask her. “The café, I mean.”

Poppy’s lavender eyes light up. She lifts her teacup with a small smile. “The Wandering Cup.”

I’VE NOT BEEN BACK IN the city since I left for Coven Crest, and it feels oddly comforting to be walking the familiar cobblestone streets. Some people recognize me and bow their heads or offer friendly greetings as I pass, but I mostly blend in with my group of friends—if not for Raelan walking a few strides behind us, we’d hardly draw any attention at all.

I can feel his eyes on my back, and his gaze warms me more than the bright autumn sunlight shining down from the cloudless blue sky. When I told him earlier that we planned to walk into the city today, he seemed unsure, jaw feathering, but he voiced no complaints. Now here we are, sharing laughter and banter as we head toward Poppy’s mom’s café.

When we arrive, the door to the quaint little shop is already propped open, and the smell of chocolate and baked goods drifts out, making my mouth water. The other girls enter first, and I follow behind them, Raelan a few steps behind me.

The café is warm and welcoming, with glass display cases at the back and plants taking up all the sunny spots near the front windows. A cat lounges in a patch of sunlight, sleeping all stretched out, soft belly pointing to the ceiling. A few other patrons are just finishing up at the counter, and when they step away and Poppy’s mom sees her, they both squeal, and Poppy’s mom comes around the counter to sweep her daughter into a hug.

Maeve, Lyra, and I exchange quick smiles. Lyra still looks a bit sleepy; we had to drag her out of bed this morning. Only the promise of sweets got her feet into her boots and her boots out the door. She leans against me and yawns.

Poppy makes introductions swiftly, then gestures to Raelan over my shoulder .

“And this is Raelan,” she tells her mother.

The woman, Layla Waverly, widens her eyes at Raelan. “Well, it’s good to see you. I wondered why you hadn’t been around lately.”

We all turn to look at Raelan. He offers Layla a small smile. “Got any of those chocolate-strawberry croissants today?”

Layla grins. “Of course. And what would you girls like? I’ve got fresh blueberry scones, cinnamon rolls, and strawberry shortcake.”

“Ooh, shortcake for me!” Lyra says, suddenly perking up out of her stupor and making the rest of us smile.

While we put in our order, I keep glancing back at Raelan, but he won’t meet my eyes.

He knows this place, then. He must come here often for Layla to know his order by heart.

Suddenly, I feel as though I don’t know him at all. And in a way, I suppose I still don’t. He’s barely told me anything about himself. I didn’t even know he had sisters until he mentioned them last night. What else about himself does he keep buried inside?

We take a seat at a small round table, and Poppy carries two more chairs over, offering one to Raelan with a shy smile. He looks hesitant, like he’d rather stand over my shoulder, but in so casual a setting, that would surely be odd. Finally, he steps forward, thanking Poppy and making her cheeks flush a deep shade of scarlet.

The five of us cram ourselves around the table, bumping elbows and knees like we’ve been friends for a lifetime. Raelan sits next to me, but he’s careful not to let his leg touch mine beneath the table, and it sends a little twinge of hurt through me.

But then I remind myself of his scream yesterday, the way his body shook beneath the pouring rain, the burns from his chain—which I can still see now, in the golden sunlight streaming through the polished front windows.

He’s already withstood such pain because of me. It feels selfish to hope for more, to want more, and yet deep inside, I can’t help myself.

His cheeks and jaw are clean-shaven today, like I expected they’d be. I wonder how his skin would feel if I were to brush my fingertips across it. I liked the shadowed stubble on his face yesterday, rough beneath my hands, but now I want to touch him again, to know him in all his forms.

What do his scales feel like? I wonder briefly.

Raelan’s dark eyes flick in my direction, catching me staring. A bit of warmth rushes into my cheeks, and I look quickly away.

“So, do you come here a lot?” Poppy asks Raelan, her voice timid.

Before today, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her speak to Raelan directly.

“Often, yes. My mother and sisters like the croissants and pastries. I bring them some whenever I have leave from the castle.”

A ghost of a smile pulls on his lips, then is gone just as quickly. It makes me want to know more about his family, about his sisters and the woman who raised him. He’s such a mystery to me, like a book I’ve only just opened to the first chapter. And I’m desperate to read more .

But Layla sweeps up to the table a moment later, a gleaming silver platter balanced expertly on one hand.

“Here you are, dears,” she says, and I have to clamp my mouth shut to keep it from watering as she slides tiny colorful plates onto the table: strawberry shortcake for Lyra, a cheese Danish with black coffee for Maeve, a cinnamon roll for Poppy, coffee cake for me, and a chocolate-strawberry croissant for Raelan. The plates barely fit on the table, and it’s comedic trying to eat with our shoulders brushing and elbows bumping. Lyra almost causes Maeve to spill her coffee, which causes a short and lighthearted argument, and Poppy smiles as she licks vanilla frosting from her fingers. I eat my coffee cake with my hands, appreciating the freedom I have away from the castle, to experience some of what life must be like for people who don’t grow up as a Ravenscroft. It makes my shoulders feel light with buoyancy.

Beside me, Raelan regards his croissant with hesitation, not yet having taken a bite.

Poppy pushes her glasses up with a knuckle and says softly, “Is everything okay? Would you like something else?”

He glances up at her question, then gives a sharp shake of his head. “No. Everything’s fine.” He finally lifts the croissant and takes a bite. I watch the muscles in his jaw work as he chews, then the bob of his throat as he swallows, and it makes me warmer than it probably should.

“Anyone going to the runeball game today?” Lyra asks. Since it’s a weekend, we’re not wearing our school uniforms, and Lyra is instead dressed in a billowy tunic and trousers, and she pulls one knee into her chest as she takes another bite of strawberry shortcake. Her curly red flyaways look almost copper in the light.

“I am,” Maeve says, but she doesn’t sound excited about it. “My brother’s playing. I told him I’d go and watch.”

That’s right—Maeve mentioned early on that her stepbrother attends Coven Crest as well, though he’s a year older than us. I’ve not yet had the opportunity to meet him.

“I’ll go with you,” Poppy says.

And that draws all of our eyes to her. She flushes.

“I thought you hated sports,” Lyra says.

“I’m trying to branch out.” Poppy shrugs. “It might be fun.”

“Highly doubt it,” Maeve grumbles, but Lyra lights up.

“We’ll all go!” she says. “Alina, are you in?”

I don’t have anything else to do this weekend, except studying for an upcoming exam in my magical anatomy class. After swallowing my last bite of coffee cake, I nod. “Sure.”

“Yes!” Lyra pumps her fist in the air, making us all roll our eyes.

The conversation drifts leisurely between classes and exams and the upcoming Samhain festival, but I’m distracted. I keep glancing at Raelan from the corner of my eye, watching him pick at his croissant. Is he thinking about his family? Wishing he could visit them?

Well . . . why couldn’t he?

I push up from the table amidst another argument between Lyra and Maeve, this one regarding the merits of cream in coffee, and feel Raelan’s gaze on me as I walk to the counter .

Layla is just finishing icing a batch of cupcakes and looks up with a smile. “Can I get you something else?” she asks.

With a lowered voice, I say, “Can I get what Raelan typically orders? For his family, I mean.” I reach into the inside pocket of the cloak I’m wearing to pull out my coin purse. I don’t carry much currency—Grandfather thinks it’s dangerous for me—but I do have some eldertokens, and it’s more than enough to purchase a few croissants.

Layla gives me a knowing smile as I covertly slide a coin across the counter. “Of course, Your Highness. I’ll have them ready in a moment.”

I give her a small smile, then return to the table.

“You order something else?” Poppy asks.

“No.” I wave a hand. “Just thanking your mother. She’s quite gifted. Maybe she should teach a baking class at the academy.”

“Ooh, I’d take that,” Lyra says. She picks up her last bite of strawberry shortcake and reaches into the top of her tunic, where Juniper’s head suddenly appears. She nibbles the shortcake, then licks Lyra’s fingers clean.

I swear, she takes that rat everywhere .

This morning, I invited Yuki to come along with us, but he had plans today—something about meeting up with a red fox he was recently acquainted with—so he turned down my offer. I’ll have to ask him how it went when we get back.

“A baking class?” Poppy smiles and wipes the last bit of vanilla frosting from her plate, then puts her finger into her mouth. “I’m not sure about that. I think she’d miss the café too much. It’s home, you know? ”

We all nod and make sounds of agreement. Then we gather up our plates and deposit them in the bin at the back of the café. At the same time, Layla holds up a small paper bag and says, “Here you go, Your Highness.”

Everyone watches me as I step forward and take the bag, offering Layla a smile and a thank-you. Then I turn to Raelan. A touch of nervousness twirls through my stomach. “These are for your mother and sisters. I thought we could visit them while we’re in town.”

His mask slips for a moment, eyebrows lifting and eyes widening in surprise. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again, seeming unsure.

Have I made a mistake? Does he not want me to accompany him?

Maybe our kisses yesterday meant a lot less to him than they meant to me.

“I mean, you can take them alone,” I say quickly, already hating the waver in my voice. “I’ll just head back to the academy with the girls, and—”

“No.” Raelan’s voice is firm. He glances at the bag, then back at me. “We’ll go together.”

Poppy, Lyra, and Maeve all give me varying looks, ranging from mischievous (Lyra, of course) to mildly curious (Maeve) to shy (Poppy). Beneath my breast, my heart thumps hard.

Because I’m going to meet Raelan’s family.