Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 27
I scoot forward to relieve the pressure on my back. Adrian squeezes my thigh and bumps his elbow against me until I peer at him through my lashes.
"What's wrong?" Fingers brush my snowy hair behind my ear. “Is something wrong with your meal or is it something else?”
I blush and shrug.
“If the food is too rich, I will find you something else to eat. What would you like?”
My blush heightens as my stomach gurgles in want of my true desire. “Lucky Charms,” I mumble.
Adrian’s face scrunches in confusion as he asks somberly. “You wish for charms of luck? The Hollow Wo—”
Ryatt chuckles from the head of the table and pushes his chair back to stand. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a healthy stock of cereal, Lucky Charms being one of them. I’ll fetch you a bowl.” I whisper my thanks to Ryatt, as Adrian’s confusion grows. He watches the lycan leave with growing skepticism.
“This realm contains charms of luck?”
“No,” I explain, “it is a type of food one eats in the morning,”—I pause thoughtfully— “or midday or eventide. It is very versatile.”
Adrian stays silent for a moment, “I see, and this will satisfy your hunger?” I nod, my vigorous agreement as Adrian passes me a smirk that makes my breath catch. “Good. Later allow me to satisfy any other hunger you may have.”
My open mouth snaps shut at the comment as I fix my gaze on my plate. Of all the thoughts plaguing my mind—worrying over Deval’s transition, wondering if Jax’s magic came back, Alekos and Celosia relocating to Winter’s house while we slept, and finding a way back to the Hollow—my relationship with Adrian had been absent.
Absent, or pushed to the side? I think guiltily.
Ryatt reenters before I can dwell on the thought, he sets a large bowl filled to the brim with the sugary cereal I adore before me. I breathe my thanks before diving in with abandon, my hunger suddenly present and urgent. Nova enters as I take my first big mouthful. She carries a tall glass decanter filled to the brim with a dark red liquid and a coffee mug.
Nova acknowledges our presence with a slight tilt of her head before flopping into Ronan's vacated seat. The mug is at her mouth the instant her butt hits the chair.
"Damn." She cringes away from her drink a second later, eyeing it with disdain. "This tastes awful."
Adrian's smirk remains as he replies. "Your friend said much the same."
"I bet," Nova mumbles before taking another drink. Her face is pinched and puckered after she slaps the mug down on the table.
"How is Deval fairing?" I ask after polishing off half my bowl.
Nova doesn't answer right away, too busy refashioning her thick, dark hair up in an untidy ponytail. Her eyes linger on Adrian before she speaks.
"He's alive—" Nova abruptly stops and tilts her head thoughtfully. "Well, dead, technically. Transitioning?" Another pause in her speech is given over to a pensive frown. "He’s stable,” she decides on finally, “and doing as well as can be expected, all things considered."
"How much longer until it's over? Until he’ll be a hybrid?"
"If he survives? Approximately, two more days. Today included. If all goes well, Irina will be at the ready to speak with him once he’s lucid. She’ll help keep him calm and explain what he can expect of his new life."
Adrian's chair squeaks as he leans forward and rests both forearms on the table. His forehead is furrowed with curiosity.
"What should he expect from his new life?" He asks.
Nova fingers the rim of her mug. "Besides his new liquid diet? He’ll lose all connection to his wolf spirit, but keep his ability to shift into wolf form." Nova slouches back.
A howl of pain echoes through the house.
My next bite stops halfway to my mouth as I cringe. "Can't they do anything more for his pain?"
"They're doing everything they can to keep him comfortable, but the process is painful," Nova replies, her voice softening in reassurance. I take comfort in this knowledge, quick to trust Nova’s words as her actions thus far have not only seen my friends and I saved, but Deval too. Hopefully.
"How is Jax?" I ask, inserting some cheer into my tone.
"He's doing well." Nova's subtle change of tone catches my attention. I look from her to the spoonful of Lucky Charms hovering just before my mouth, torn between replying and eating. "Your blood made a huge difference," she adds nonchalantly.
I blink in astonishment, and my spoon droops out of easy reach. "It did?" I ask hurriedly and finish off my spoonful, eager to hear more good news.
"Yeah," Nova's lip twitches upward. "Turns out your blood was, uh, actually a little more than he was prepared to handle.” Nova chuckles at my look of concern. “Don't worry, he’s fine. Your blood and magic just left him a little too wired to rest, well, that and his new Godly patron.”
A smile curves my lips. "Does this mean Jax will be able to do magic?"
Nova nods and brings her mug to her mouth to cover her smile. “Yeah.”
“That’s wonderful!” I exclaim, heart filling with joy. First, my concerns about Deval are soothed, and now this? I turn my happy smile Nova and Ryatt’s way before settling on Adrian. He looks rather unimpressed at the sorcerer’s story.
"What God is his new patron then?" Ryatt inquires.
Nova rolls her eyes. "No idea, he’s kept that information private."
A thoughtful look drifts across Nova's features as she runs her tongue back and forth over her fangs. She takes up her blood again and with a resolute air downs its contents. More than one trail of blood slips down the side of her mouth. She wipes them away with the back of her hand and burps.
"Pardon me." She licks her lips, but when she catches my wide eyes, she winks. Before anyone can inquire further, Nova’s head snaps in the direction of the hallway. She flicks a finger in the air, asking for silence. "He's coming."
Seconds later, I hear his footfall.
Jax saunters into the room, as handsome as ever. He’s outfitted in slim-cut trousers and a dark button-up covered in some overlapping pattern. The scruff on his jawline is gone and replaced with a neat, close-shaven beard. Jax even sports a proper eyepatch over his missing left eye. My shoulders sag a touch. Apparently, some things can't be healed with magic.
"Hello, gorgeous,” he says with remarkable cheer and sends me a roguish wink. His gaze flickers over Ryatt and Adrian, “Beastie boys.” He tips his head at both men before plopping into the seat next to Nova and turning to her. “You're looking fresh-faced. Fed recently, have you?"
Jax’s good mood is difficult to resist, and I find myself grinning conspiratorially with him as Ryatt and Adrian shoot him glares.
"Is the food not to your liking, gorgeous?" Jax inquires, gesturing to my full plate of food. “It’s not poisoned, is it?”
“No,” I giggle, but quickly smother the noise as Adrian releases a short, low growl. “I just preferred something with more sugar.”
Jax slants his gaze toward Adrian, amusement tugging at his lips as mischief alights in his eye. “But you’re already so sweet.”
I slap my hand over my mouth to cut short my mirth, but Nova and Ryatt hold no qualms of showing their enjoyment of the scene. Adrian growls even louder. I place my hand on Adrian’s thigh and squeeze, hoping to ease his temper. When that doesn’t seem to work, I change the conversation.
"Jax, what are those things on your shirt? Are they some kind of animal? They seem familiar."
"They're kangaroos." He beams proudly at my inquiry. "They're quite fashionable at the moment, or so they were last I checked. They're native to Australia and quite rude, I’m told." He offers the fact with a cheeky grin and leans across the table to snag the last piece of toast on my plate.
The food doesn't make it an inch away before Adrian releases another startling growl. I jump in my seat and pinch him, appalled by his bad behavior.
“Stop that,” I hiss in rebuke before passing my uneaten plate to Jax.
Nova snorts and puts a fist to her mouth to contain her laughter while Jax immediately digs into the food. The conversation lulls, as Jax and I finish our meals, but an odd sort of tension begins to line the room as last bites are consumed. I look about the table, my gaze settling on Ryatt as he gazes pensively at Jax and Nova beneath heavy-lidded eyes.
"Not to ruin the mood, but how long do you and your motley crew plan on staying once this business with Deval comes to its conclusion?”
Jax and Nova consider one another. A long second passes, and then another. The vampyré shrugs.
"Not long," Nova says. “Jakob is keen to have us all back under his roof.”
"You will not stay and help the pack and coven?" A rather deafening silence falls around the table.
Nova is blank-faced. Jax is solemn. Adrian... I inhale and glance at him. He is made of stone.
"The original plan was to assist in breaking the lycan curse," Jax states. "A task which we accomplished."
Nova snorts. "Yeah, and then some." A muscle in Jax's cheek twitches but he says nothing more. I slip my hand from Adrian’s leg, to ball my hands together in my lap.
“Please,” I ask, letting the weight of my stare fall heavy upon them. “Please consider speaking with Jakob. Convince him to let you stay and help us fight. You saw what the Wselfwulfs were like,” I say to Nova directly, then face Jax. “You know firsthand what harm they wish to inflict on others. Please.”
Somewhere a clock ticks. I can hear it off in the distance, the rhythmic beat smothered only by Deval's cries that continue to break the bleak air. Silverware clatters against Jax's now empty plate. He dabs the corners of his mouth with a napkin, training his eye on me as he does so.
"Never fear, gorgeous," he offers with a tired smirk. "Jakob might want us home, but Irina holds considerable sway. The chances that she champions us to stay and help the pack are high. If that’s the case, I suppose we might be on the battlefield together—”
"No," Adrian interjects. Ire simmers through our bond. I spare him a questioning look, surprised at his firm rebuttal. "We leave as soon as Alekos is well and can fashion a doorway back to the Hollow Woods."
Adrian meets my astonished gaze reluctantly.
"Fairies are not fighters," he tells me in a low voice. I shrink at his tone, my feelings hurt far more than I expect them to be. Had I not done my part in fighting for our freedom? As if reading my thoughts, Adrian's posture softens. “I know your heart,” he says, “you’ve no violence in it.”
I turn away from his beseeching words and cast my sights anywhere but him as a thick lump crowds my throat.
“Who cares if she’s a fighter,” Nova comments, “You sure as hell look like one."
Adrian stills and directs a menacing glower Nova’s way. "I am, but not for you or anyone else here in this pathetic realm."
"Someone needs a nap," Jax mutters.
I should anticipate Adrian's exit with the rapid rise of his anger through our bond, but I still startle when his chair shoots back and he storms from the room. Nobody utters a word.
My tongue passes quickly over my bottom lip as I search for something to say. "If you'll excuse me..."
++
Sleep eludes me when it finally comes time to rest. After a day of chasing Adrian down without success, I expect my fatigue to drop me into a deep sleep. But I am restless all through the night and wake with the new dawn more tired than the day before.
I glance to my left, comforted to see Adrian’s sleeping form, yet disheartened all the same. Working my bottom lip between my teeth, I wonder briefly at our future.
Will we be happy? How often will our tempers clash?
My doleful sigh evolves to a yawn, interrupting the surefire spiral my thoughts intend to take. With a last glance at the handsome man beside me, I stretch and rise from the bed. My feet lead me to the kitchen in the hopes of something to wake me.
"You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night."
Zoelle's voice is a soft blow to my morning daze as I slip through the kitchen door. I scan the room and find her seated at the island. She cups a bowl of cereal in her hand and holds it close to her chest. There is a wan appearance about her that makes me believe she didn't sleep well either.
"I didn’t.” My confession is followed by a loud groan from down the hallway. Deval. I cringe, saddened by his pain, but force myself to find the light. At least he is alive—stable. There is hope for him yet. I allow a small smile to grace my lips as I lock eyes with Zoelle.
She offers me a sad smile in understanding, her eyes briefly darting over my shoulder to the hallway. "If it's any consolation, by early morning tomorrow, your friend should complete his transition."
"I’m glad to hear it. I do not wish for him to be in such pain," I reply. Zoelle nods in agreement then gestures to the highchair next to her. I amble over, wings lifting me up to assist in the simple task. She looks me over carefully.
“That’s not the reason you couldn’t sleep, is it?”
I shake my head. “I’m heartened by Deval’s recovery and Jax regaining his magic. And being back here—” my shoulders relax as I release a long breath “—it is more wonderful than I remember to be surrounded by my friends.”
“But?” she hedges as I pause.
My throat bobs. “There are other worries,” I reply, my fingers fussing with one another. “The Wselfwulfs, Adrian, finding our way back to the Hollow…”
Zoelle sets down her cereal and gently pries my hands away from each other to take them in her own. Her hands are cool, and her concern palpable. Without a word, she gathers me into a hug. I sink into the embrace, reveling in the solace it affords me.
"I'm sorry, Luna. For everything," she apologizes as she pulls away. "The coven took advantage of your kindness." Zoelle holds my crestfallen expression, her brown eyes awash with guilt. "You should never have been involved in this war—not even for a moment. If we had found a way home for you sooner, maybe your friends—"
"Perhaps, it would be for the best if we retired these 'ifs'? All night they have haunted me,” I say and discover a sense of peace as I accept Zoelle’s apology on behalf of the coven and release the past. “But the truth of the matter is we cannot travel back in time." I pause, an impish smirk tilting my lips. I pin her with a playful glare, feeling more myself than I have in weeks. “Not that I'm aware of."
A faint smile crosses Zoelle's lips, and her shoulders slump down an inch in relief. "Can I make you anything? Eggs? Cereal?"
I slip from my seat. "No, I only want tea. Something that will perk me up?"
Zoelle points to a set of tall cabinets on the right of the oven. "Find the jar with the pink and green leaves, it should brighten you up." It doesn't take me long to find or make the tea, and I'm pleasantly surprised by its citrusy taste.
"Why are you up so early?" I ask after retaking my seat. The kitchen is bathed in gentle light from the rising sun and begins to brighten with each passing minute.
"I was sick," she answers around a spoonful of cereal. Her words come out garbled, but further awareness dawns on me as she pats her lower abdomen. "Plus, I've been on a cereal binge since they woke me from the"—she waves a hand in the air—“magic coma.”
"You are doing well otherwise? The tonic Winter gave you, it didn't—?"
Her chewing slows as she fixates on the yellow cereal puffs floating in her milk. "The doctor and the coven's healer say everything is fine, but to be honest, I'm still unsettled."
"And Xander? I haven't seen him since the night we arrived outside Gran's house."
"He and Atticus are helping Keenan reacclimate." Zoelle drops her spoon to nibble on her lips. "He's having a tough time recovering. I'm sure Xander will spend time with him again today, but he's in bed now. I didn't want to wake him for my cereal craving." She lets out a breathy laugh, swirling her cereal about before meeting my gaze. "He needs rest too."
"Ah, but what my soon-to-be wife forgets is that I never sleep well when she's not there beside me."
Xander enters the room on silent feet, with black sweatpants slung low on his hips. I get a glimpse of stacked abdominal muscles as he stretches and his black shirt lifts. His face, which tends to favor a serious expression, gains a warmth about his eyes and full mouth as he studies Zoelle. She reacts in kind, a smile so soft and caring pulling her lips up as she tracks his entrance.
"You need proper rest, Xander," she scolds. He reaches us and makes an immediate play for Zoelle's spoon. She concedes with an eye roll.
As they share her breakfast, my attention strays to the windows, where the wind howls. A flurry of snow whips up from the ground. It dances in the air before being blown away. In the distance, tree branches bend and sway dramatically.
The view sends me back to the Wselfwulf's farm. The lonely cabin crops up in my mind's eye, only to be replaced with the cold, damp cellar Keenan and Jax were kept in. I shiver at the visceral memory, and my skin turns clammy despite the warmth radiating from my tea.
"Luna?"
Xander's smooth baritone breaks me from my dark reverie. The warmth of the kitchen comes flooding back as I swing my gaze to the alpha pair.
"Luna, are you okay?" Zoelle's words drift off. "Of course you're not," she continues after a beat or two. "Whatever you need, space, rest, different clothes or food, it's yours. We'll do all that we can to make sure you have everything you need to feel safe and recover. Just ask, okay?"
"What she said," Xander agrees. "Anything you need, we'll do what we can."
I set down my mug, the heavy ceramic thunking against the island's countertop. My violet eyes dart between the two as I weigh their words. Anything...
"Once my friends have rested, I've no doubt they will wish to begin to search the forest for an appropriate tree to create a doorway back to our realm.” Xander and Zoelle wear neutral expressions. "Adrian doesn't want to stay or help fight. And I—I," I choke on the word.
