Page 20

Chapter

Nineteen

Araya stirred, the weight of sleep clinging to her as the dream dissolved like morning mist. For a moment, she was caught between worlds, her mind struggling to reconcile the surreal garden and its flowers that glittered like starlight with the slide of silk over her bare skin and Jaxon’s warmth against her back. His arm wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let her go, even in sleep.

She exhaled slowly, careful not to disturb him as she shifted, trying to ease the strange tightness that lingered in her chest. She couldn’t shake the last haunting image of the prince’s eyes. He’d been so sad…

Jaxon stirred, his grip on her waist tightening. “Are you all right, Starling?” he mumbled, the words almost lost in her hair.

“Just a dream.” Araya stroked his hand, letting his touch settle her. No matter how real the dreams were, they didn’t matter. She was awake now—and Jaxon was right here beside her. This was where she belonged.

“Nightmare?” He groaned, his voice still rough with sleep. “I should have had the servants make your tea—I’m sorry, Starling, I didn’t think of it. ”

"Neither did I.” Araya leaned back into him, tilting her head just enough to graze his lips. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Jaxon hummed, his arms tightening around her as he trailed his lips from her temple down to her jaw. He lingered there, nibbling at her skin before claiming her lips. He kissed her lazily, warm and unhurried, like there was nowhere else for them to be and nothing else they could possibly want but this.

Araya melted into him, the ache in her chest easing as his touch chased away the last traces of the dream. Her magic stirred beneath her skin, flickering to life in response to his closeness—drawn to him always.

Jaxon pulled back, magic sparking between their lips. “Are you sure that was a nightmare?” He laughed, brushing her hair out of her face. Before she could answer, he was kissing her again—deeper this time, his hands sliding down her sides to pull her on top of him.

She gasped into his mouth, his touch igniting sparks that danced across her skin. The world around them fell away, narrowing to the heat of his body under her hands, the scent of him surrounding her as the slow drag of his fingers set fire to every nerve.

Then the door swung open without warning.

Jaxon swore, yanking the blankets over them in one swift motion. Araya yelped as she tumbled sideways, the heat between them shattering like glass.

“Didn’t they train you to knock?” Jaxon snapped.

“I—I did sir.” The young female hovered in the doorway, her eyes locked on the floor and her face flushed bright red all the way to the tips of her clipped ears. “Maybe you didn’t hear?—”

“What do you want?” Jaxon cut her off sharply.

The servant swallowed hard, holding out the stack of clothing in her arms. “Master Shaw—your father—wanted clothing delivered for…for your bond.” Her eyes flickered toward Araya, but she immediately looked away again. “I’m very sorry?—”

“It’s alright,” Araya said quickly, tugging the sheet higher over her chest. “Thank you—if you could just set it there, I can get it myself.”

The girl dipped her head in a quick nod, still avoiding Araya’s eyes.

“Master Shaw invites you both to breakfast,” she added, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I-if you need anything else?—”

“We won’t,” Jaxon said, his voice flat. “Leave the clothes. You’re dismissed.”

The girl flinched, bobbing her head and all but tossing the bundle onto the chest at the foot of the bed before fleeing. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing the room in silence.

Araya stared after her, frowning at the closed door. "She looked... uncomfortable."

Jaxon groaned and flopped back against the pillows, draping an arm over his eyes. “Don’t take it personally, Starling. Garrick’s servants are terrified of upsetting him—especially the younger ones.”

Araya bit the inside of her cheek. That hadn’t felt like fear of Garrick . But this wasn’t her world—and it wasn’t her place to question it.

“Well—” she said, batting Jaxon’s hands away as he reached for her again. "We shouldn't keep your father waiting."

Jaxon let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping back into the pillows. “Fine.” His lips curled in a slow, lazy smirk. “But you owe me for this, Starling. And I always collect.”

Araya shook her head, her lips twitching despite herself. Jaxon’s charm was infuriatingly effective, no matter how hard she tried to resist.

"I’m sure you’ll remind me," she said dryly, sliding out of bed and reaching for the clothes the servant had left behind. She avoided his gaze, knowing the amused glint she’d find there would only make it harder to hide her smile.

“Count on it.” Jaxon sat up, his gaze heating her skin. “Now, if you could just dress a little slower?— ”

Araya rolled her eyes, pulling the soft, simple dress over her head. Though plain, it was nicer than anything she'd ever owned before she met Jaxon. She laced up the bodice and tied the waist, sectioning her hair into three before realizing the tie to her braid was back at the Aetherium.

"Wear it down," Jaxon said, tugging on a tunic and pants from the dresser. "It's just us here, Starling. There's no one for you to hide from."

Araya hesitated, her fingers curling around a loose strand of hair as she glanced toward the door. Jaxon adored her hair—but she still didn’t feel entirely comfortable flaunting such a fae feature so openly.

“If anyone stares?—”

“They won’t.” Jaxon was already beside her, his fingers threading through her waves as he pulled her close, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Because they know.”

Araya swallowed hard, her resolve fraying under the heat of his breath against her skin.

“Know what?” she managed, her voice coming out weaker than intended.

Jaxon smiled against her jaw, dragging his fingers lazily through her hair. “What a lucky, lucky man I am that you belong to me.”

Araya huffed a breathless laugh, making a half-hearted effort to twist away. “We have to go down to breakfast.”

Jaxon’s grin widened. “We could be late.”

His lips traced a slow path down her neck, his fingers skimming her waist, drawing her back into him, coaxing her toward surrender. Araya shivered, letting herself sink into the heat of it—the pull, the ache.

But when she blinked, she saw green eyes instead of dark.

Araya sucked in a sharp breath, stepping back. “I don’t want to disappoint your father.”

Jaxon studied her for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze before he sighed and extended his arm with a teasing grin. “Fine. But you still owe me—with interest.”

Araya stared at him, faltering for a moment as the memory of the dream rushed back to her. Loren had offered her his arm just like this—the thought left her reeling, like the world had shifted again under her feet.

But she pushed it away, slipping her hand through his arm and letting him lead her from his bedroom, willing the dream to stay behind where it belonged.

“I’ve never had a family breakfast before,” Araya admitted, smoothing the soft folds of the dress they’d given her. It fit perfectly, tailored so precisely that she suspected it had been purchased for her—even though she’d never been here. She should know better by now than to be surprised—Jaxon was always prepared.

“They can be more trouble than they’re worth.” Jaxon snorted, his grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “But Father will be glad to see you—I know he was worried about you last night.”

The breakfast room was no grand dining hall, but it carried an understated elegance that made Araya acutely aware of how little time she had spent in places like this. Polished silverware gleamed at each place setting, and every detail of the table was meticulously arranged—from the fine china to the neatly folded napkins.

Garrick Shaw sat at the head of the table, already sipping a cup of tea as he thumbed through a stack of papers. He glanced up as they entered, his sharp gaze landing on his son before flicking to Araya, lingering just long enough that the hair on the back of her neck prickled.

“Good morning,” he said. “I hope you both slept well.”

“We did,” Jaxon said dryly, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Araya to sit. “Until your newest staff member made sure we were awake. ”

The young female moving around the table flinched but kept her head down, her hands trembling as she poured steaming tea into two more cups.

“She was just doing her job, Jaxon.” Araya offered the female a kind smile, but the servant kept her eyes down, her face carefully blank. “Thank you for the clothes, sir. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Of course,” Garrick said absently, his focus already drifting back to his papers. “I meant what I said last night—you’re family now, Araya.”

The servant scurried around the table, pulling silver lids off serving dishes to reveal platters of fluffy eggs and savory sausages. Another bowl held freshly cut fruit, and fresh rolls steamed in a basket beside a silver dish of creamy butter.

“Thank you, Belanis,” Garrick said as she topped off his tea. “That will be everything for now—yes, please leave the teapot?—”

“Milk and sugar.” Jaxon nudged the small pitcher and dish towards Araya. “You’re sweet to defend her, Starling,” he added softly, taking her plate and piling it high with food. “But remember your place here—it’s beside me, not her.”

Araya stared at him, any response she might have made dying on her tongue as he set her plate in front of her with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Darian was gone when we looked for him,” Garrick said without looking up once the door had closed behind the servant. “He knew he overstepped last night.”

“Coward,” Jaxon snorted, heaping food onto his own plate next. “So he can corner someone who can’t fight back, but he can’t face the consequences of his actions?”

“Darian is more dangerous than you give him credit for,” Garrick said, setting his papers down. His sharp gaze pinned Jaxon in place, his voice calm but edged with warning. “He may not hold formal authority over you, but he’s made a career of currying favor. With the right allies—and the right moment—he can cause more than enough trouble.”

Jaxon’s grin didn’t falter as he speared a fat sausage with his fork. “If he wants a fight, I’ll make sure he gets one.”

“Don’t underestimate him.” Garrick said evenly. He leaned back in his chair, his forehead creasing as he frowned at his son. “That’s exactly what Darian wants you to do. He thrives on exploiting arrogance.”

Jaxon grunted but said nothing, the silence broken by only the scrape of his knife against his plate.

“It would help,” Garrick continued, “If we had measurable progress to show the Arcanum—something to indicate that you’re making a difference.”

“Araya is ready to start imbuing the amulets,” Jaxon said around a mouthful of eggs. “Is that measurable enough for you?”

“Is that so?”

Garrick’s attention shifted to Araya, his eyes narrowing slightly. The weight of his gaze pressed down on her, but she kept her expression neutral, her back straightening instinctively.

“Processing the blood took longer than we expected, but I finished the final housing last night,” she said, relieved to return to a more familiar topic. “Once we install the bone blanks and imbue them, we’ll be ready to start testing.”

“And how long will imbuing take?” Garrick asked.

“They’re only blanks--” Araya chewed her lip, considering. “Not more than a few days, if that.”

“And do you believe they’ll work?” He asked.

Araya hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Everything we have done up until now is based on theory,” she admitted. “It should work—but magic can be unpredictable.”

For a moment, Garrick said nothing, his gaze lingering on her as if weighing her words. Finally, he nodded. “Good. It sounds like we’re finally moving in the right direction, then. Where are you planning to conduct these tests? ”

“I thought Ravonfar,” Jaxon said without missing a beat. “That’s where Araya helped her friend with those maternity clinics—with what she’s said about how the mist behaves there, it sounds like the perfect place to start.”

Araya froze with her teacup halfway to her lips. “Ravonfar? Are you sure that’s the best choice?”

“Why not?” Jaxon raised an eyebrow. “You’ve spoken about it often enough—how the shadows creep along the beach. It seems like a logical place to begin.”

“The people there...” Araya trailed off, setting her cup down carefully. “It’s a complicated district. The people there haven’t seen the good parts of the New Dominion?—”

“All the more reason for me to go,” Jaxon said. His hand found hers under the table, squeezing gently. “I want to see everything you’ve told me about. I want them to see what we can do to help—that we’re trying.”

Araya’s protest faded as she met his steady gaze. There was no mockery in his voice, no trace of his usual charm. Only conviction—and sincerity. She leaned toward him almost without meaning to, drawn to the hope in his words even as a quiet voice that sounded disconcertingly like Loren whispered a warning in the back of her mind.

Humans lie. Especially when they want something.

But this was Jaxon. Her Jaxon.

“Just… don’t be surprised if you don’t get a warm welcome,” she said. “You won’t undo decades of mistrust and fear in a night.”

Jaxon’s grin softened. “I don’t expect to undo anything overnight,” he said. “But we have to start somewhere.”

“Ravonfar it is then,” Garrick said. “Just be sure the tests are thorough—and keep things contained. We can’t afford a spectacle.”

Jaxon inclined his head. “Understood, Father.”

“And how is the prisoner?” Garrick picked his utensils back up, slicing neatly into a steaming sausage. “You’ve been spending a great deal of time with him, haven’t you, Araya? Have you made any progress?”

Araya straightened, the bite she’d just taken turning bitter on her tongue. “I check on him daily,” she said, careful to keep her voice even. “If his blood is the key to this, he needs to be strong enough to provide what we need.”

A flicker of guilt twisted in her chest, but it was true. That’s what his role was—what her role was. The dreams had made things more complicated—but Araya couldn’t let herself lose sight of the truth.

“Just don’t forget that he’s a prisoner—not a guest.” Garrick sighed, taking another bite of his food and chewing slowly, studying her. “I know it can be difficult for a soft heart to see—but Darian is looking for an excuse to cause trouble for you both. Do not give him one.”

“I understand, sir,” Araya said, lowering her eyes. Steam curled off her cooling tea, her fingers tightening around the cup.

“When do you leave for Elvanfal?” Jaxon asked, reaching across the table for the stack of papers by his father’s plate.

“Tonight,” Garrick said, a frown creasing his face. “Things are…not going as well as we’d like.”

“Are these the latest?” Jaxon asked, frowning. “We were gaining ground when I left?—”

“We were.” Garrick sighed, suddenly sounding much closer to his age than he usually did. “But the chaos the fae left behind is more persistent than we anticipated in this section—add that to the terrain, and it’s become a holding game.”

“What if—” Jaxon dragged his chair a foot closer to the head of the table, their voices fading into background noise as the conversation turned to strategy and troop movements—nothing that concerned her.

Araya exhaled slowly, turning her gaze to the tall arched window and the snow-covered skeleton of the garden beyond. What did it look like now, after twenty years of Garrick’s rule? Did it still hold the vibrant greens and bursts of color Loren had shown her last night—or had those, too, been stripped away?

What would Darian Hale say if he found out Loren visited her in her dreams?

She shivered, lacing her fingers together under the table and clasping her hands tightly. She never wanted to find out.