4

Lenna

S at at the table amongst them, Raoul couldn’t stop smiling, and Lenna couldn’t take her golden eyes away from him. She couldn’t remember the last time they had seen each other in such normal circumstances. As “normal” as being fugitives chased by the damned Roix was. But well, oh well, wasn’t that their new normal? No big drama.

“Do you remember when your father found us playing in the flowery bit by the servant rooms when you were around nine?” Raoul said.

Lenna snorted. “He got so pissed when he couldn’t find us for five hours.”

“Five hours?! Where did you hide, in the gardens?” Ayla asked.

Lenna shook her head, cocking an eyebrow. “We sneaked into his chambers while he was out desperately looking for us around the house.”

“Shut. Up.” Ayla’s eyes widened, her mouth twitching as if she was considering hiding a smile.

“We put on tons of his North Ruler’s clothes and jewels and pretended to be him until we got bored and went back outside,” Lenna continued, enjoying seeing the smile that definitely won Ayla’s inner battle.

“We left behind a disgraceful mess for him,” Raoul added.

“Sorry, not sorry, asshole.” Lenna felt a tinge of proudness at her younger self not standing and conforming with societal barriers. Being a member of the North House and only being allowed to have relationships with other panoms and the members of the Elite had never stopped her from talking to anyone she wanted to. Especially when most Elite beings won their bullshit status by paying disgraceful amounts of money to the Houses. Sums of money that could feed entire homeless families for a century, if not more.

Elite members who won their privileged status by having certain unique skills, intelligence, or abilities were rare. Hence why Sasha, Brendon, and Indianna were one of a kind, each excelling at their own fields. Sasha had an amazing scientific mind. Brendon was unique at intercepting and hacking the systems, analyzing and manipulating information, and Indianna was one of the best non-magical healers in Thyria.

The proud feeling of her younger self for pissing off her father came accompanied by the constant anger any thoughts or memories about her family came with.

One would think that her panom parents would have sent her one damned ink to ask if she was still alive and breathing. They hadn’t. Not that they had cared when she was tortured by the Organ Mandor right in front of their fucking faces, or that they did anything to avoid it.

Lenna had little doubt that their parents were communicating with her twin sister, Ayla. For succession of the North House purposes and all that crap. Lenna didn’t miss being the heir of the North House. Not that she’d had any say in the decision when the Organ Mandor passed her heirloom of the Northern Petal to Ayla.

All because Lenna had refused to apologize to him and swear absolute royalty. No, Lenna hadn’t very much not done that. Instead, she called the Organ Mandor a piece of shit with powers.

Her parents surely had felt nothing but relief when Lenna told them it was their dutiful daughter who would become the North Ruler. Instead of the daughter that rebelled against the stupid political system since she had memory.

The only good thing about having parents who didn’t give a shit about her was that Lenna had learned the lesson years ago. Now, it didn’t hurt nearly as much. Plus, who cared if her official family didn’t love her well when she had a real family surrounding her? The officiality could go to the Fifth hell for all Lenna cared.

Her real family was an unusual group of people. If that didn’t make life more interesting and entertaining, she didn’t know what would. A bunch of badass bitches and extremely good-looking men, Sasha said the other day. A pretty accurate description.

The black-haired man next to her stroked her bare arm, invisible sparkles immediately trailing up her nerves. Lenna was going to demand explanations for the snake-looking-whatever creature Jake had summoned earlier, but despite her annoyance, there was no denying he was the most unlawfully handsome at the table, and very likely from all of Thyria. He was also the one who had earned more than her physical affection by not giving up on her and somehow seeing past the multiple self-imposed barriers that had protected her for over twenty-five years.

“Have you been sleeping better lately, Raoul?” Ayla asked.

He blinked. “Some nights I don’t sweat or scream. I guess that’s a good sign?”

“You haven’t had a really bad night for a few days now,” Nina added. “Since the second black streak appeared in your hair.”

Which, like the first time it happened, hadn’t gone away, painting his pure white permanently.

“That attack wasn’t fun,” he whispered, his unfocused eyes on the table, as if the memories were back in his mind.

“Attack?” Hope asked, narrowing her almost-dark eyes.

Raoul slowly dragged his eyesight from the table to the people surrounding it. “I haven’t found a better description for those dreams. I’ve had nightmares before, but these . . .” He inhaled deeply before continuing, “They feel like a personal attack against my mind and my life. There is no escape. The only freedom is waking up.” Raoul swallowed.

Lenna didn’t need to ask why his voice trembled in the last sentence. Raoul had to be absolutely terrified of not waking up again. How could he not? He had been stuck in an unconscious state for months before they rescued him and managed to wake him up. His best description for that time was an unconscious limbo full of blackness and whispers .

He sometimes still said random shit no one understood the meaning of, which was worrying and disconcerting in equal parts. But at least he hadn’t become aggressive again. Not since the first time he opened his eyes after taking one of the multiple drugs Indianna and Sasha had created for him.

According to the people who were there, that had been as scary as the worst panomquake. His pupils had been incredibly dilated, maybe from the drug’s side effects or from his eyes being closed for months, and he looked manic . Surely Raoul grabbing Nina by the neck and saying something about a Crown of Death rising hadn’t helped with his crazed look.

When Lenna and Jake had moured into the Crystal Clear Safehouse after that, Nina’s bruises were visible around her throat and sore to look at, despite the Healing she had received.

Lenna held her multiple questions about the content of Raoul’s mental attacks for another time. Tonight was about celebrating his improvement and the efforts he had put into making all this progress. She was so freaking proud of him.

“At this pace you’ll be able to join us when we go get the Fifth.” She nudged him gently enough to not make him fall from his seat but strongly enough for him to stop dwelling on his fears and bring him back to reality.

His eyes widened. “Is that what you lot plan on doing?”

Lenna frowned. “I mean, no shame for mundane fugitives, but I’d go up the damned walls if I had to hide here for eternity. Especially because of him.”

Him being the father of the man Lenna shared her nights with—Jake.

And the father of the woman who Lenna had seen in full killing action and knew she could become death incarnate if she wanted to—Hope.

Shame the Organ Mandor wouldn’t have much hope against any of them once they got the Fifth Power.

Because, yes, they hated him enough that they were willing to risk their lives to hunt the Fifth Power. The power no one in living history had possessed. The power that, according to Jake’s lessons, was both a blessing and a curse. The power that would allow them to stand a chance against Rhei Coralt and kill him once and for all. Please and fucking thank you.

“So, how do we get the Fifth?” Hope asked, folding her arms.

Jake's silver eyes glittered with amusement. “I have done some research over time.”

“ Decades type of time or last-five-minutes time?” Lenna couldn’t resist grinning at his unashamed self-importance.

“Centuries, more so. Is that good enough for you?” The corner of his lips tugged upwards at the same time as Lenna’s heart skipped a beat.

“Fuck.”

Jake turned his head towards the man with smooth, shoulder-long dark hair that never missed a word. “And so have you, Ciaran. Haven't you?”

“Perhaps.” The index of Ciaran’s metallic hand tapped the ring on his bottom lip distractedly.

“Or perhaps the Origins of Cardinals and Other Gods and Goddesses disappeared from the library at the West House by accident?” Jake asked, tilting his head.

“I figured it was worth hiding in case the rat who stole Battle of Petals and Of Cardinals, Powers and Death might want to steal it too.”

“Clever chasing cat,” Jake said, a mischievous side-smile on his lips.

“Is that what you truly did during your discarding visits around Thyria? Steal books?” Lenna asked. “Other than discard beings, I mean.”

Jake purposely ignored the discarding part. “It's called research. For the preservation of the future and the land I was meant to rule if my father ever dies.”

“Oh, he will definitely die.” Hope’s voice was calm and definite. A patient promise of death. “When can we go get the Fifth?”

Okay, maybe it was an impatient promise of death.

“Remind me why are we wanting to go on a death hunt to get the Fifth Power? Are our four panom powers not enough?” Ayla asked, her green eyes barely visible as she narrowed them.

“Not if you want to get rid of the disgrace of a man that kills innocent beings without remorse or consequence. The man who killed Ciaran’s and Hope’s mothers, who amputated Ciaran’s arm in a failed attempt at removing his courtrade blood, who took my panom powers away and who would kill me if he knew I regained my powers, thanks to you all. And no, our four powers are not enough to kill the man who discarded Hope for existing when she was a baby, and her mother for giving birth to her. The man who is surely planning a slow and painful death for all of us,” Lenna spat, the blood in her veins racing as her rage flourished to the surface. “If you’re happy to be in a country where such a being rules, and don’t mind living in a totally broken and corrupt society, then of course there is no need whatsoever to go on a death hunt. You can totally stay here waiting for him to hunt you to death instead.”

The silence that followed could be cut into pieces. The green eyes of her twin didn’t move from her amber ones.

“The sooner we get the Fifth, the sooner we get him.” The determination in Hope’s voice was undeniable.

“Jake and I will discuss our findings about the Fifth. Let’s see if our theories align,” Ciaran said, looking at Hope. “When we have a clear plan, we will move.”