Page 77 of Vathia
Jesper’s nose traces the exposed column of my neck, right over his bite, and I can’t help the shiver that wracks through me. “Your mind is very loud today, Beastie. Want to talk about it? Or do you want me to make you louder in other ways?”
I mentally curse, not having even realized that my walls were down, and when they’re firmly back in place he pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “Not fair. What do I need to do to get constant access to that pretty little mind of yours?”
A loud chuckle bursts from me. “Trust me, you don’t want constant access to the mess that is my mind.”
His devilish grin makes my lower belly flip with excitement. “Oh, but on the contrary. I feel like your thoughts are what keep me going. Now that I’ve had a taste of your innermost thoughts, I need more. I thought I could easily read other fae’s minds before but theirs are like a muddy puddle, while yours is like a crystal clear lake, and I could drown in it,” he states pulling me closer, his eyes not leaving mine even for a second.
My fingers trace over the scar that mars his stunning green eyes. The lids of his eyes close and he presses his face into my hand and sighs. “I can practically hear your thoughts,”he mutters. “Even though you’ve shut me out,” he sighs dramatically. “What happened is in the past, Little Beastie. Now will you let me in for a whole day? Pretty please?”
I blink, realizing he’s serious. “It’s just…” I waver.
He props himself up on his elbow, the center of his brows narrowing. “Just what?”
“Just don’t judge me for anything you might hear. Things were dark before I found you four again. My past isn’t pretty, full of stained glass and roses. It’s drenched in blood and pain.”
A flash of anger comes blaring to life but he doesn’t hide it; he lets it simmer at the surface. “If Aemon wasn’t such a selfish bastard… I would kill everyone in that fates-damned village myself. You should have never experienced that. They would have never left a mark on your skin if we had found you sooner.”
I wince at the mention of the scars that cover my back. Aemon had already seen them in my dreams, and Jesper saw them when he found me in the showers before Cresida and Evera tried carving off my ears, but I’ve been careful to keep them from Killian and Talyn. Talyn I don’t think would even care, but I remember how protective Kill got whenever I hurt myself. A scraped knee here, a small cut there, or a bruise from playing too roughly and he would be nearly inconsolable with rage, saying how he should have protected me better. I know he’ll need to know eventually, but I don’t think I could handle the heartbreak on his face right now, or anytime soon.
He may not even want me.
With a sigh, I decide to be brave and let Jesper in. Nero and Vasari would be so proud of me right now. Jesper holds me close as my worries wash over him.
“You’re wrong Ravina,” he states firmly. “Kill would want you. In fact you’re the only one he’s ever wanted. Scars or not.He’s never even looked at another female. I think he knew, even more than the rest of us, what you would be to us.”
Hope blooms but I squash it. I need to focus on figuring out what we are doing with the Vathian army—what’s left of them, anyway. Aemon should be back from blinking to Kraryn to inform his mother of the horrific events that unfolded here. We need to pull in the remaining generals—
“Breathe Ravina,” Jesper chuckles, grabbing my face and planting his lips on mine, easily distracting me from the duties I know I need to get to. “I’m not planning on letting you out of this cot for at least another hour. They can wait. You need all the relaxation you can get, my adorable sea star. Now on your back so I can worship you properly.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to twitch a finger before he’s flipped me into the position he wants, and without any delay he dives between my legs like a starving male.
A female could get used to waking up like this.
MY SHOULDERS SMACK against the back of the chair as I let out a frustrated sigh. Talyn and the General have been at each other’s throats all morning. Jesper is currently pouting in the corner of the tent—I had to confiscate his knives because he kept threatening the other males for disagreeing with me and we were getting nowhere. Meanwhile, Aemon and Killian have been my most reasonable males, chiming in when needed.
According to Aemon, his mother has left Kraryn again. Only a note waited for him when he arrived, stating that she had gone in search of texts at their other estates to see if she could find anything regarding the Soul Stone.
The bickering continues, driving me wild. “Enough!” I bellow, slamming my hands on the table, glaring at everyone. Nero’s wings flutter as he regains his balance on my shoulder. “This is getting out of hand. Talyn, you mentioned rebels?”
He eyes me warily but nods. “Myself and the others started the rebellion while attending Phixmery, using the pirates, lesser fae and nulls—”
“They’re still fae,” I growl. “Call them as such.” Just because they have different characteristics or lack of magick, doesn’t mean they still aren’t fae, and everyone needs to understand that. It’s one thing I remember my mother being adamant on, and something I believe in with all my soul.
Much to my displeasure he just continues. “Evander eventually became our eyes and ears, keeping everything together so we could play our parts with the Lords. We did our best to help fae escape their masters or toxic males. We got them out of the gaze of the Lords if we could while trying to dig up information on them as well—anything to take them down.”
Jesper scoffs. “Evander is barely out of fledglinghood. He’s going to get himself killed.”
His brother stands up, jostling Cynder accidentally because he’s sitting so close to her. He gives her an apologetic look before focusing back on Jesper. “You were out causing mayhem and getting yourself into dangerous situations when you were far younger than me. You have no right—”
“I have every right! I did it to keep you safe! To keep mother out of Lord Verlice’s grasp!” His gaze briefly snaps back to me, or well, to his knives sitting on the table next to me. “Little Beastie, give me back my blades. I need to threaten some sense into my brother.”
Nero perks up. “Oh please give him the blade back. I was nearly falling asleep with how boring all this arguing is.”
I shoot him a glare.
“Jesper, your brother has every right to be here. You may not like it, but he’s saved our asses a few times,” Talyn points out, trying to reason with him. “Go for a walk and cool off.”
I watch as Jesper shuts down and storms out of the tent, the pull of our bond aching with his pain. Before I can get up to go after him, Killian follows. My mind reaches out to his, and he stops at the tent entrance, looking back at me over his shoulder before he lets my Szellemi magick in enough to talk—but not to see his thoughts.
