Page 20

“Cinder! Lune!”

Narsus’s screams had Lune scrambling to his knees from a dead sleep. He squinted at the bright light filling the room. Green flames engulfed the bed. The fire licked across the walls and ceiling.

And danced up his arms.

Screaming himself, Lune slapped at his body until he realized he wasn’t being hurt. Just dripping sweat and excessively uncomfortable at being wrapped within this flickering element. Further jarred by Narsus’s sobs, Lune realized a nightmare had summoned the flames.

He looked over, seeing Narsus still asleep, curled into a ball. Limbs pressed tight against his body and twitching without mercy. More cries, instantly growing into high-pitched, heaving wails.

Lune leaned over, trying to catch his breath from the shock and fright.

He stopped cold at reaching out to touch.

Narsus’s beaked mask. Hanging on its peg above the nightstand.

It glowed and pulsed, as if alive. Seemingly fed and awakened by the fire and reveling within it.

Watching him. Judging him. This was the Grim’s mask. A god’s mask.

Lune shook off the hypnotic sight and seized his mate’s shoulders.

“Narsus! ”

Narsus’s eyes flew open, and he quickly rolled to his feet. Away from the touch, and away from the bed. It took several more seconds for Narsus to regain his bearings. Then, panicked, he immediately snuffed out every trace of the fire.

“Where?” Narsus demanded, rushing back to him. “Where are you burned?”

Lune hurried to find his voice. “I-I’m not.” He held out his hands and arms for inspection, spying the trace of scales quickly fading away. Just like before. It was as he’d thought. His siren-self protected him. “Narsus, I’m immune to your flame.”

“I…I could have killed you. Just like I killed—” Narsus’s features crumbled and he turned away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The look of fear and shame that washed over his mate hurt Lune’s heart. “Narsus, I’m all right.”

His Intended pulled nervously at his green braid and glanced around the room. Lune had a feeling he was examining the magic spells painted into the suite. “No, it was Cal’s magic that saved you. You’re not immune.”

Lune would argue about that much later. Right now, Narsus needed him. “Would you care to talk about your nightmare?”

“I…I told you. I hurt someone I cared about. They…died.”

“Your first Compass-match?” Lune asked softly.

“H-how did you know?”

“I didn’t. I figured that’s the only person you’d even consider let getting close to you.”

“It wasn’t a match,” Narsus said, sitting tensely on the edge of the mattress. “It was a magic hiccup that got someone killed. ”

Lune sat a few inches away from him. “It destroyed your ability to trust in the compass. And yourself.”

Narsus covered his face. “We—we thought since we were both phoenix, my poison wouldn’t be a problem.”

Lune frowned. “He was a phoenix? Why would you think that?”

“Ah, gods, Lune,” Narsus rushed. “I’m sorry. It’s something I can’t get into—”

A harried knock on the bedroom door had them both tense. It was Cinder who called out. “Narsus, Lune, I’m coming in!”

The door flew open. Orange flames lapped around Cinder’s body, and his hair and eyes burned with his natural element. “We smelled smoke, and felt the heat,” he said.

Narsus only grunted and turned away. Several hitches of grief escaped before he was able to control himself. Lune flinched at his mate’s acute response.

“Narsus?” Cinder asked, and started further into the room.

Lune pushed off the bed, blocking the approach. Eager to take the attention off Narsus, and experiencing a little bit of possessive jealousy. Because he’d witnessed the same lovelorn looks on the faces of his old school chums in the past. And right now, both men seemed to be wearing it.

“We’re okay, Cinder. Narsus put out the flames. I’m not hurt. Thank you, but we’re fine now.”

The phoenix wasn’t retreating. Only staring at Narsus with a weird expression straining his face. Jealousy within Lune started to build a bonfire of its own .

“Cinder, they’re well,” Brightside stepped into view, drugged with sleep and night robe askew. The elf suddenly straightened up taller and quickly tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Cinder, recall your flame.”

The orange phoenix did so, and that was when the elf took ahold of his arm.

“Lune, I apologize,” Brightside said. “My fault. I sent him in here in case he needed to put out a fire. I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been an emergency.

I should’ve realized Cal would have safeguards on his—your house. ”

“It’s…fine,” Lune said faintly. Narsus mentioned Brightside was an empath and a telepath. Was the elf reacting to the rising tension between the two phoenix? It only made what was playing out more suspicious.

“Goodnight, then,” the elf said. Kindly but firmly, Brightside yanked a stunned Cinder out of the room and shut the door.

Only then did Narsus lift his head. He grabbed the beaked mask from its peg and put it on. “Lune? I—I need some air. Stroll the beach with me?”

“Of course.” His heart quickened. Narsus wasn’t pushing him away.

They’d walked in silence. Back and forth through the ebbing and flowing surf.

Frantic, at first, sending up splashing waves with each footfall.

Lune followed quietly behind, allowing Narsus his space.

Then they lounged on the beach; Lune sitting close beside his mate in silent support, but not touching.

Narsus’s breathing had returned to normal so that it no longer sounded as rough coming out of that beaked mask. His body had relaxed into the consistency of a wet noodle. The gentle rounds of controlled inhales and exhales had done its job. As did the serene roll of the surf.

Narsus’s muffled voice gently pierced the night. “I’d thought I’d burned you alive. In my nightmare, I mean.”

“A nightmare means you’re still trying to work through this. Still trying to trust yourself, and the compass.”

“Yeah,” Narsus said after a minute. “I’m not sure I’m doing very well.”

“You are doing very well,” Lune corrected. “You’ve faced and conquered each step we’ve taken together.”

“No, not all of them.”

Lune pursed his lips. “You didn’t just call out to me in your nightmare.”

Narsus’s heavy sigh signaled he knew. “And you’ve put two and two together.”

“Yeah. Narsus? You said you’d killed him.”

“I did. He was reborn. A common enough occurrence with my kind. But Lune, please. I can’t…talk about it. I won’t. I’m sorry.”

Lune reached out across the sand, his hand stopping inches from Narsus’s. “I do understand. And respect it.”

Narsus turned to face him, watching him. Lune braved the piercing stare of those darkened lenses. Until Narsus said, “You do , don’t you?”

“I was raised by a phoenix, remember?”

A few seconds passed between them. Then, Narsus’s hand inched across the sand to meet his. Slowly, their fingers entwined, and Narsus’s beaked mask turned back toward the stars shining above.