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I didn’t have the willpower to push him away. And to be honest, his touch comforted me. Somehow. “Fitting for him.”
“Incredibly so.”
“He’s going to try to punish you for that, though. Rich people are scary fucks. Aren’t you a little nervous? I mean, people are going to notice the scar and ask questions. You didn’t make it easy for him to hide it.”
His body tensed, and the anger spilled out. “It’s not supposed to be hidden. It’s supposed to be displayed so the world knows what you are. What you have yet to earn.”
“And earning something will… remove the mark?” That much I remembered Razai saying. What did it mean?
He explained, “It’s called the Coward’s Path. If he can understand what he did wrong and take true action to change himself and make it right, then he can potentially find redemption. Only then will the mark disappear.”
Suspending my disbelief, I replied, “That sounds like a myth, to be perfectly honest. Something Azra’s parents would tell us about the legends before the Territories. You said it was ancient magic?”
“Very,” he affirmed. “Before the wars and the Territory split began, it’s said that our kinds shared magic. It’s not a time that anyone can remember, since most of the history and records were destroyed—and the oldest immortals have retreated into solitude or released their memories. But even though legends faded, some things remained. Magic lives on in the shadows, knitting our torn world together into odd shapes. An unfinished patchwork of old and new.”
I mumbled, “This is a bad story. Not even a little believable.” Shutting my eyes wouldn’t hurt, right? They just needed to rest.
And why was Razai so fucking cozy? He shouldn’t be this cozy.
He chuckled again and something—was it his fingers? His lips?—brushed my forehead. “Tough crowd.”
“You need better bedtime stories, Professor,” I yawned.
I faded into my exhaustion once more, drifting between wakefulness and the lull of sleep, imagining the skies winking with white and black wings, and all the colors of the fae race together once more. Divine shifters meeting their Demonic halves.
And me?
Where would I be?
What would that world look like?
It does sound nice, though. The story. I’d like it to be like that one day.
I must have said it aloud because Razai whispered, “Me too, love. Now sleep.” He pulled the blankets over my shoulders, and then I sank into oblivion.
Chapter Forty-Nine
When I woke, Razai stood by the window, phone to his ear. His irreverent aura was nowhere to be seen. Even in the plain black T-shirt and jeans, he had the air of a leader. A president. A general.
He is the weapons and combat type of guy, I reminded myself. Seeing his different sides never ceased to surprise me, though.
He turned, and when he saw me, he winked and held up his index finger. “I hear you loud and clear, Frankie. Appreciate the warning, as always. Is everything in place for the celebration?”
A cup of cold water sat on the nightstand, the frosty condensation singing to me. I sat up and snatched it, drinking greedily.
“Good,” Razai answered. “Keep me in the loop as usual. Thanks. How’s your wife doing? Really? Well, congrats to her. Send my love—no—no, not like that, I swear. Godsdammit, Frankie.”
Stifling my laugh, I spotted a pile of my clothes sitting on the chair beside my bed. I picked them up and found an adjoining bathroom. While undressing, in the mirror, I surveyed my body.
My ribs protruded a little more. My collarbone had been sharpened too. All the effects of being on bedrest and not eating solid foods. I didn’t feel hungry or weakened, which meant Olive likely had a way to get some nutrition into me.
The burn wound was now only remembered by a faded pink splotch of skin. The knife wound showed only a thin, pink line of puckered skin. I touched it, expecting some sort of bruise or pain. The only thing that hurt was my right quad, likely still healing from the deep cut.
“Fucking incredible,” I said. After a quick shower, I checked my phone and found an insane manuscript of threatening texts from Azra that made my blood go a little cold with fear.
1 hour ago: I will make you regret the day you stepped foot out of my VERY SAFE, VERY WARM CAFE.
2 hours ago: Gray Wilder, I know you’re sleeping, but I need you to wake the hell up and call me immediately.
