Page 12 of Risen (Love and Revenge #6)

Dusek

T he naga enclave was quiet, but it wasn’t silent.

Most silence was hollow, a space where nothing could grow.

But in this place—this impossible city in a cavern beneath an island surrounded by water—the silence was alive.

It breathed . I didn’t have an earth affinity, the way Ruya or the naga, or the faun did.

But here, I could sense the magic in the earth in a way I never had before.

It was… grounding, I suppose. Though that seemed a stupid observation.

I stood near a small pool carved into the stone, watching the glow cast by bioluminescent fungus ripple along the edges.

My reflection, when it was present, shimmered back at me in broken fragments emerging from the dark.

A jawline. The corner of an eye. Fitting, since I felt a bit… fragmented, lately.

The rebel court was standing on a precipice.

Soon, we would make our move, the syndicate would be destroyed.

The broken edges of Robin’s heart would, hopefully, be soothed by the emperor’s death.

She needed us, though, needed all of her court to be at their best, sharp and ready. And I felt… unsteady.

Something was broken inside me. For decades, I had kept myself together by maintaining strict boundaries between myself and others.

But then Ruya came along and kept chipping at my protective walls.

And Cicely started showing up in my dreams, treating me as if we were friends, encouraging Ruya’s reckless schemes to seduce me.

Now Sadavir just brushed my crumbling walls aside like it was nothing…

it left me feeling raw and vulnerable. And confused.

I couldn’t stop thinking about this rising need to protect the people I cared about.

I wanted to wrap them all in my shadows and hide them from the world.

Keep them safe and sound in the darkness with me.

It was almost alpha of me. A disturbing thought.

But even more disturbing was the way I craved closeness.

Touch. Some insane part of me wanted to give in to the ever-increasing need to…

indulge in physical affection. It was a dangerous urge for a monster like me.

But… maybe they were right. Ruya, and Cicely, and Sadavir.

Maybe they truly didn’t see a monster when they looked at me.

Was that really possible? And did it even matter now, when we were on the eve of waging war on the syndicate, and possibly being hunted by a cult of insane witches? I was losing my mind.

I thought I could make sense of the conflicting desires and thoughts inside me by spending some time alone.

I didn’t expect anyone to come looking for me here.

So, it was a bit of a surprise when I heard the soft footfalls behind me.

I didn’t turn to see who it was. I could sense her, always.

I waited, let the living silence stretch between us as Ruya joined me.

Her soft alto voice was a balm to my soul.

“Having a good lurk in a dark corner? Is that a popular bubak pastime?” I turned to see her rubbing her hands over her arms, which were bared in the t-shirt she wore.

She could only see shadows and light, so she probably couldn’t tell just how much darker this little corner was, but it was cooler here, the water lending its chill to the air.

I huffed a short laugh. “Visiting with the shadows,” I said, trying to match her teasing tone. “They tell me their secrets. And it’s a good place to see everything and be seen by nothing, trinket.”

She stepped closer to me, close enough that I felt the brush of her aura, warm, and steady, and maddeningly gentle. I didn’t move away as I normally would. I made myself trust in her strength, in her ability and willingness to endure my presence. She didn’t flinch.

“Trinket?” she said lightly. “You haven’t called me that in a while.” A soft smile played about her lips, telling me she didn’t mind the silly nickname I’d given her when we first stole her away from the cult.

“We’re not too different, you know,” she said, furrowing her brow as she gazed at the darkness near where I stood.

“You think staying in the dark is comfortable. I thought my tower in the pocket world was comfortable too, once. That it hid me from the scary outside world, and kept me safe.” She gave a dry laugh.

“It’s what The Mother taught me. That the outside world was bad.

That other people couldn’t be trusted. That keeping me apart from others was for my own good.

That what I could do was a rare gift, but also something to be contained and carefully handled. ”

I didn’t answer. Not right away. Eventually I said, “The difference is, you were supposedly kept locked up for your own safety. I keep to myself for the safety and wellbeing of others.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, as if considering. “I know that’s what you think. But I think you’ve been so adamant about calling yourself a monster because you’re afraid.”

I huffed. But she wasn’t wrong. It was fear that kept me from reaching out for connection with other people.

Fear of their reactions. Fear of rejection.

Fear of the pain I’d feel when they inevitably looked at me with horror or disgust. And now, fear of how much worse the loneliness felt after experiencing touch.

“It was terrifying at first,” she said softly.

“When I left the tower. Not knowing what I was doing. Feeling like I was at a complete loss for how to interact with the world.” She turned her face toward me and gave me a knowing smirk.

“I found people who made it worth the risk, though. Who drew me out of my shell and showed me it was okay to be myself, whoever that was. That I was worthy of love, and attention, and being cared for. That not everyone was out to control me or hurt me.” She grinned.

“And that it is okay to ask for what I want.”

I chuckled. “You think our experiences are similar, little witch?”

She shrugged. “I think you’ve been more present lately.

Less distant. And I know it’s not only because I keep nudging you to accept the fact that you’re not a monster and that I do actually care for you and want to be near you.

” That knowing grin again. “I think maybe I’m not the only one working on getting you to take down those scary dark walls.

And that makes me so happy for you, Dusek. ”

I let that sit between us for a moment. Then, quietly, I said, “You’re not angry?” I floundered helplessly. “I… Sadavir just--”

She cut me off, reaching out and snagging my hand to give it a squeeze, her warm, magnetic omega aura reaching for me as well, beckoning me closer.

“ Angry ?” She huffed. “Oh, Dusek, you sweet, stubborn thing—I’m overjoyed.

A little surprised, maybe.” She tilted her head.

“I thought Cicely would wear you down long before anyone else.”

I was glad for the shadows that hid my blush. Our omega might be visually impaired, but clearly she wasn’t blind. Not that the faun was ever subtle with his overtures.

“I’m happy for you,” she carried on, unaware of my raging discomfort with this discussion.

“Both of you. I think Sadavir needs you as much as you need him. He might be good at the calm, stoic alpha facade, but I know deep down he is lonely being the outcast in our court. His alpha side probably yearns to build a court of his own, to have people around him who depend on him, the way he was born and raised to.”

It filled me with awe, the way she always seemed to see right to a person’s heart and soul and offer them such complete, unflinching understanding. The shadows swirled around me, unsettled. They reached for her, but I kept drawing them back.

“I love you,” I blurted out, like an idiot.

She was just so… warm, and empathetic, and understanding, and… everything I always wanted and needed in my cold, dark life but was too afraid to reach for.

She gave a sweet, surprised little laugh, and responded automatically, as if it didn’t even warrant a single thought. “I love you too.”

“You shouldn’t be so happy about it,” I growled, a bit louder than I meant to. “You don’t know what I’ve done, the depths of what I am. You think you do. You think you’ve seen horror. But you haven’t seen the magnitude of the darkness that lives inside me.”

Ruya didn’t flinch. “I’m not afraid of you, Dusek. I never have been, and I never will be.”

I turned to her fully then, and the words snapped out of me, triggered by some irrational need to argue, to defend against my suddenly mushy feelings, rather than accept the fact that she was willing to tolerate such evil near her, loving her, wanting her.

The things I wanted to do to this woman…

“I’ve pulled souls apart,” I reminded her. “Whispered things into minds that made them rot, eaten alive by their own terror. I was made to terrify, Ruya. That’s my purpose. My existence.”

She stepped closer, brushing her fingers up my sleeve.

“That’s not what you were made for ,” she said with an eye roll, as if I had said something ridiculous.

“That’s just your magic, a part of your nature.

It’s part of you, but it’s not all of who you are.

” She shook her head. “I know you. You have the kind of magic in you that can cause destruction and terror, yes… but there’s more to you than that.

It’s not as if you go around terrorizing and devouring souls all day just for the fun of it, Dusek. ”

Something inside me fractured at that, making me feel oddly small and vulnerable.

I clenched my fists as tears prickled behind my eyelids.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like? To feel something tender and then have the monster inside you perk up, and know you should recoil, no matter how much you yearn for affection?

It’s like my touch is an infection. My attempts at gentleness are poison. ”