Page 39

Chapter 34

Dolly and Arrik, Sitting in A . . . ?

~DOLLY~

There’s no sign of Arrik when we return to Jeb’s apartment—just a salty Jeb and a disheveled Beckham, who looks like a fretful mother. Beckham’s face lights up when he sees me, hopping from his chair with his burly arms wide, clearly about to scoop me up. “Master Dolly!”

Before he can reach me, Velis makes a subtle gesture, and Beckham collapses back into his seat, comatose and drooling.

Jeb sizes up the pacified nuisance. “Finally. He’s been insufferable.”

“Where’s Arrik?” Velis asks.

“Out,” Jeb replies, flicking a piece of paper in Vel’s direction.

It looks like Jeb’s been on Beckham babysitting duty, and now that Beckham’s a snoring lump, he starts tidying up the mess his brothers left behind—dirty socks, spare goblets, and ‘consumables’ cans. Just like human boys.

“Any sign of Alex?” I ask, scanning the room and seeing none. Even the table no longer houses the weapon capable of killing Velis.

“No. And Arrik took the bow with him,” Jeb replies curtly, anticipating my next question .

“It’s part of his vessel, so I imagine he feels connected to it,” Velis says, unfolding the piece of paper Arrik left for him.

“What are we going to do about Alex?” I ask, the urgency pressing down on me. “Did Arrik come up with a plan?”

“You mean while you were off doing Maka knows what, leaving him to clean up your messes?” Jeb bites back.

“Yes,” I admit, though Velis steps in before Jeb can push further.

It’s one of those moments where it feels like there’s an overwhelming amount of shit to get done and not nearly enough time to do it—like finals are tomorrow and I’ve missed the entire term.

Velis tucks the paper into his back pocket. “Arrik’s working on it. He asked me to meet him.”

“Where?”

“The manor.”

“Are you worried?” I probe, watching for any tells in his expression.

“No.”

“Why?”

He tosses his shoulders. “Arrik always comes through.”

Arrik does always come through, whether we deserve it or not. With everything that’s happened since arriving at Jeb’s apartment—since leaving for vacation, since finding a genie in a thrift store—I’m more than ready to let Velis escort me to the spare bedroom. We didn’t make the bed when we got up today, but it’s since been made for us.

Jeb is a hateful racist with a long way to go.

But he’s a decent host.

I brush my teeth, slip into pajamas, and squeeze Velis tightly, grateful for the sleepy magic coursing through me.

“ Lolly. It’s time. ”

I wake to a phantom voice, or maybe just a dream spun from my own anxieties. My throat feels dry from all the screaming, shouting, and coughing up water. It’s hard to believe I once hid from half the people under this roof. I slip out of bed, leaving Velis behind with just an outline of my warmth, and quietly make my way down the long, white hallway, carefully avoiding the doors where Jeb and Beckham are staying.

Still no sign of Arrik in the living room.

I pour myself a goblet of water from the spring-fresh pitcher in Jeb’s fridge, savoring the cool liquid as it soothes my throat. Beyond the sitting area is a smaller den with a balcony. A breeze drifts in, disrupting the curtains, and I catch sight of a silhouette bathed in silver moonlight and swathed in curling smoke.

“ Sweetheart? ” The word threads through the air, twisting its way into my soul, where it always hits hard. I guess now we know why.

Arrik.

I step onto the balcony, my stomach wound tight like a knot—much like my fate, apparently—and join him in the moonlight. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, his chin held high. “I meant to speak with you earlier. Got tied up.”

His tattoos have filled in, the return of his magic tracing over his skin in sharp evergreens and perfectly imperfect strokes.

“Tied up with what?”

He doesn’t answer, simply looking out into the night. There’s a different kind of beauty in seeing the stacked city like this—under the cover of inky dark.

I exhale, already sensing the gravity of what’s coming. “How... are you?” My voice sounds smaller than I’d like.

He chuckles wryly, releasing a puff of smoke into the night. “Finding out my brother stole my destined mate and watching someone else walk my fate? Yeah, I’m just thrilled.”

Blunt, as ever. And to be honest —

“I’m glad I know too,” I admit, the word ‘mate’ unsettling in my stomach.

He stares out at the stacked white city, shimmering under the moon’s glow. It’s a fantasy wonderland, the kind of place few mortals ever get to see, and the person at my side is just as mesmerizing. One look at the genie Arrik Reilhander and you know he’s brimming with secrets.

“You know more of them than anyone else,” he says, still gazing into the distance.

It feels like déjà vu, always on balconies with suspicious, dangerous djinn.

“Do you remember it now?” His voice rumbles, low and reminiscent, like he’s been turning it over in his mind for hours, his inked throat betraying the strain he tries to hide.

My chest tightens. “Most of it, yeah. It’s been coming back in pieces, but I think I have a clear picture now.”

His eyes drift to mine, but his chin stays lifted. “And?”

But that was then, kitten. Things have changed. Because I’m no longer going to try to keep you. Now, I’m willing to let you go. And that’s how I know, DJ. That’s how I know I’m in love with you, all the way.

It terrifies me—everything he told me. The depth of his desire, the fragility of his love. The damage I could cause, to him, to myself, to Velis. It scared me then, and it scares me more now. Now that I see him as more than a brother, a wish-granter, a friend. Now that I know how deeply he’s entwined in my soul.

What am I supposed to say to that, Arrik? Ten minutes ago, you told me you maybe kind of like me. And now you’re suddenly in love with me?! I mean, you’re not in love with me. I can’t—

Don’t invalidate my feelings, Master. I am in love with you. And you’re supposed to say nothing. Because I already know your heart as well as you do. And I know he’ll always put you first. The same can’t be said about me. He is stupidly transparent, and for some reason, it makes you feel safe. I can’t compete with stupid, Master. I just can’t. And I want you to be with who you desire more .

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, not forcing me to respond, his sights still fixed on the heavens. “About what happens next. After we kill the cupid. With us.”

This doesn’t feel like the right time to bring this up. We’re in wartime. We need a plan.

Arrik doesn’t seem concerned. His eyes shimmer under the Makayen moonlight as I step beside him, leaning against the glittering stone banister.

“My first idea was to wipe our memories. Yours and mine,” he says. “Make Velis carry them. Start over.”

The suggestion sends a pulse of dread through me.

“But...” He analyzes me in that nerdy boy way, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down each of my vertebrae. “I don’t think it would matter. I think we’d always find our way back to this.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight. “So, what have you come up with instead?”

He responds like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I take your memories. You’ll forget, and I’ll be your brother. I’ll care about you in every way I’m allowed to, and maybe a little more. But I’ll make you forget each time you catch on. You and Velis can live in bliss, while I protect you from a distance.”

“That’s . . . a stupid, hurt-filled plan.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, and there’s a hidden, underlying vulnerability, rare on a proud djinn like him. “But, I need your companionship. Romantic feelings aside, I need that. And my brother needs allies. You’ll always know where my loyalties lie. I would never betray you, Master. Never... now that you’re mine.”

The still night harbors the weight of everything unsaid.

A welling pressure rises in my throat, and I barely notice it until it’s ready to burst. I don’t like his idea. I don’t like how sad it feels. The truth bubbles up from the deepest part of me, something I’ve been avoiding for far too long.

I don’t want him to be my brother. I don’t want him to love me like a brother. Selfishly, I want him to love me as something more.

It’s like he was waiting for me to realize it.

In a flash, he’s closer, no longer leaning on the rail. “OR—” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “We find a more creative solution.”

Heat flares up my neck, like I’ve been hit by a wave of sudden sunburn.

“Arrik, I’m not open to ‘creative solutions.’” I turn sharply. “And I don’t know why we’re wasting time talking about this when Velis is literally being hunted by a psycho cupid with a blood-siphoning weapon.”

“Really?” he scoffs, clearly ignoring the urgency. “This is the one thing you’re not open to exploring? Give me one good reason why.”

“Why? Because it’s indecent!”

“Indecent? How so? Three consenting adults.”

Oh my god, can he be so for real right now?

I throw my hands up. “Arrik! Two genie boyfriends IS indecent! And who’s the third consenting person in this scenario? Velis would never go for it!”

He smirks. “So you have thought about it.”

I grit my teeth. “Stop it, Arrik. It’s not happening.”

He steps closer, his dark aura swirling around me. “But since you brought it up, does that mean you’re one of the two consenting parties?”

I replay my words in my head, horrified at what I just implied. He’s even craftier than I thought.

“Quit using your djinn tactics on me, Arrik. I deserve more respect than that.”

Arrik peers down at me, his presence overwhelming, his eyes catching moonlight like a creature of the night. “How do you know Velis would never agree to it?”

“Because I’ve already given him my whole heart, Arrik. How could I take half of it away? What kind of person would that make me?!”

I barely deserve Velis. How could I ever think I was worthy of Arrik too?

The night wind picks up around us, affirming what I’ve just said.

He chuckles darkly as he strolls past. “You don’t get to claim the wind, sweetheart.”

Nevertheless, it’s a thing I hadn’t fully admitted to myself until the wind chimed in.

With his hands behind his head, he continues with his usual swagger, “I’d argue hearts aren’t divided that way. You can care for two people. It’s possible.”

“But it’s not an option.”

“Why not? Mistresses, paramours—those arrangements aren’t exactly rare in noble circles.”

I blink. “Are you seriously saying you want to be my mistress, Arrik?”

“If that’s what it takes.” He pins me with his chilly stare. “I’ll be blunt: I’d rather share you than lose you. And I’d bet Velis feels the same.”

He comes right out and says it.

I stammer. “B-bold of you to assume he’s at risk of losing me.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s not.”

His directness riles something sinful inside me. The chaos of it, the taboo, wears heavily on me. Before I can find words, Arrik gently guides my face to face him, his voice low and tender, pulling me back into the reality of this truth I’m being forced to confront.

“Since you’re too stubborn to make this decision, let me make it easier for you,” he says, his words direct but laced with that familiar, safe, teasing edge, and dropping to a hot, confident whisper: “Tell me to stop at any time, DJ. It’s just you and me.”

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. He’s so close now, his scent—desire and dark smoke—enveloping me just like it did that night in the club when he caught me, played with me, and then let me go.

His lips hover just inches from mine, his eyes earnest, unmasked as they search my face. “Should I stop, my sweet lady?” he asks, his tempting breath mingling with mine.

With infinite care, he nudges a strand of hair behind my ear, his bruised and battered fingers grazing my skin like he understands the value of each cell. “We both want you to be happy, Master,” he whispers.

My breath hitches in my chest. “Everyone will hate me,” I whisper.

Arrik’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Who the hell is everyone? The greenie? Evaris ? Who cares?” His hand holds me close, his tattooed thumb brushing away my tears with a gentleness that breaks me further. I close my eyes, leaning into his touch, relishing the warmth of his well-defined hand against my cheek. I don’t know how to navigate this. I don’t know if there’s a way to love them both without breaking everything.

Because Velis is right.

Arrik is right.

Alex is right.

I can’t help it. I was doomed from the start.

Our mouths meet, and it’s electric, sinfully good. And I want more.

Admitting it sends a sensation like melted butter down my shoulders while fireworks pop in my stomach. I kiss him deeper, surprised and horrified by my own hunger and equally shocked by his careful restraint.

Do I want this?

Of course I want this.

It aches in me, like a need.

Is Arrik insatiably hot? Yes. Strong, smart, loyal? Absolutely. Do I have fun with him? Trust him? Consider him my closest friend?

Tears stream down my face as I finally admit out loud, to him, to me, and to all the worlds and gods, as I shove him away, gasping for air and sanity—“I love you, okay?” The words feel like they’ve been clawing their way up my throat, desperate to escape while I shamefully cram them back down. “Is that what you want? But what the fuck am I supposed to do about it? I love him, and I love you, and I can’t love you both. That just feels like inviting chaos into our lives!”

“Yes,” he says, eyes holding a hidden flame. “ Chaos .”

He claims my wrist to keep me close.

I know I’m falling for him. I know I already fell, and it terrifies me that I’m capable of loving two people at once.

Insanity. Chaos.

But it feels like some force beyond us wants this too.

Like a thousand voices cheering us on.

And for just a moment, I let myself go there. I imagine taking them both. I indulge in it—casting away this stupid, frustrating, unfair choice.

And in its place, a twisted relief blooms, dark and sudden, in the bedlam that is our tragic genie romance.

Maybe it doesn’t have to be that complicated.

A sensation like fire rips through my chest, sudden and hot, searing every nerve, my heart pulsating so hard that it feels like it might come bursting out of my ribs and hit Arrik in the face.

It feels like I’m dying. I think I might be dying! I think I might be having a heart attack out on Jeb’s swanky high-rise deck!

Arrik kneels with me as I buckle in his arms, the soul-wrenching, heart-changing, desire-unbridling pain overwhelming me. Arrik’s muscles protectively cocoon me, his support a gentle anchor against the storm raging inside. “ It’ll be over soon, my sweet master. ” His embrace is strong, unwavering, a safe harbor amidst the chaos swirling in my heart.

The last thing I hear is my name, shouted in desperation by the man I’ve just betrayed, as he races into the den—“Dolly!”

Above us, the moon turns red.