Page 157 of Aryn

“Also terrifying?” Ego chimes in.

I shake my head. “Good. The people are good.”

The two of them exchange a surprised glance when my eye catches on a glint of light shining off Rhael’s hair. He walks at the edge of the forest, running his hands over leaves and bark and staring up into the blue sky in awe. I call his name, and he glances over before heading our way, moving in that ethereal way he has.

“This is Rhael,” I explain. “He’s here as a diplomat.”

“To do what?” Ego asks with a snort.

Rhael flashes her his most poised smile. “To build relationships between our people and yours, and to understand the differences between our worlds.”

“Rhael is also an artist,” Aryn says with a fond smile toward him. “He paints the human world based on what he’s read about it.”

“How does it compare to seeing it in real life?” Sakane asks.

“It is…” Rhael starts, but when he meets Sakane’s eyes, he sucks in a breath. A faint flush forms underneath the chains that drape across his cheeks. “It is gorgeous,” he blurts with wide eyes.

Sakane grins back and I snicker, though Bash kicks me in the shin and shoots me a glare. I clear my throat, ready to change the subject when Sovran speaks up.

“There is much we must discuss,” he says. “But first, our travelers need rest. It has been a long journey.”

Everyone agrees, and Ronan tells Ailynor they’ll set them up in the empty homes. The crowd disperses as I search for a short-statured Lindae.

“Sprocket,” I shout, glancing among the heads until I finally spot her sauntering over. She settles beside Ego, resting a hand on her hip and tucking a finger under her waistband.

“Find somewhere else to be tonight.”

Aryn chokes as Bash and Xeni laugh. Sprocket only lifts a brow. “I think I can manage that,” she says, giving Ego’s hip a squeeze.

“Damn it,” Sakane whines. “What about me?”

Rhael gestures between the buildings, then drags a hand down his braid. “Perhaps you could show me around the village?”

“Oh,” Sakane breathes, cheeks flaming as he smooths his hair. “Yeah, I could, uh, I could do that.”

If I wasn’t so ready to rest, I’d hang out longer just to watch the awkwardness, but instead, I wrap an arm around Aryn’s waist. “Come on,” I murmur against his ear. “You and I have a date with the shower.”

Aryn

Two weeks have passed since we returned. It took surprisingly little to convince Sprocket to move into Cato’s old place, though I feel bad for Sakane. Now he has to deal with the late-night hookups and complete lack of volume control.

Cato started moving his things the day we returned. The house finally feels like ours, and the space already carries his scent alongside mine. His clothes hang beside mine in the wardrobe, and his boots sit by the door next to mine. It’s small, but it’s ours.

Discussions with Ailynor and her crew are ongoing. She’s been in near-constant meetings with our group, private sessions with her general, and heated arguments with Sovran. Ronan has played peacemaker a few times, keeping his firecracker of a mother from laying the others out with her temper.

After a few days of back and forth, Sovran agreed to take her to Atlanta. It’s the closest city, and he has contacts there that could ensure her safety while they visited. Her guards argued against the plan when they were left outside the gates to guard the van and wait, but it’s easier to blend in a single rogue monster than a whole crew of them.

None of us are entirely sure what he showed her there, but when they returned three nights ago, it’s clear she’s all in.

Everyone is waiting with bated breath for the final word on the plan. She hasn’t given a firm commitment yet, but the way she speaks about it is no longer skeptical. It’s strategic, like the gears in her head are already planning another hostile takeover. There’s a meeting planned for tomorrow morning, and I imagine we’ll get our answers then.

Tonight, the five of us—Cato, Bash, Xeni, Ego, and I—sit together in the shade. Every time I glance up at the night sky, part of me still expects to see the deep reds and three moons of the other side. I wonder if Brihn is looking up at that same sky and thinking about me, too. I miss him in ways I didn’t think possible, though the new ring around my neck serves as a reminder of his presence.

The evening air is warm as Cato tucks himself into my side, watching fireflies drift lazily through the trees. Bash has Xeni in his lap, while Ego sprawls in a chair with a mug of something strong.

“So,” Bash starts, breaking the comfortable silence. “What do you think is going to happen next? Do you think this meeting is to build us up or let us down easy?”

Cato shifts against me. “Ailynor’s going to help. She wouldn’t have spent all this time here otherwise. She’s seen the cities, seen the military control, and she has her son to consider.”