“What?” she mumbled, looking at Ezra.
My stepsister laughed, idly rubbing Marisol’s palm between hers. “She’s being silly. I was bringing you to the family Healer when I ran into her. Right, Sera?”
“Right.” My hands were trembling, so I hid them under my legs. “But you’re okay, so I should go.”
“Okay.” Marisol smiled faintly at me. “Thank you for not burying me alive.”
I blinked as I rose to my feet. “You’re welcome.”
“You look nice, by the way,” Marisol said, looking up at me. “Beautiful, really. The surcoat. The color suits you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, having forgotten that I had changed into that earlier. Turning, I dipped out the door of the carriage as white fireworks exploded.
Ezra followed in the flashes of the light. “I’ll be right back.”
“Not planning to go anywhere.” Marisol leaned back as she looked down at herself. “Gods, I’m filthy. What did I hit my head on? A pile of mud…?”
I hopped down and walked a few feet before stopping, the hem of the surcoat swishing around my knees. A jittery sort of warm energy filled me as Ezra stepped out, closing the door behind her.
“I really didn’t think it would work,” I began.
Crossing the distance between us, Ezra went to touch me but halted. “I want to hug you, but the blood—it will ruin your surcoat.” That was a sentence I never expected to hear from Ezra. “And it really is flattering on you.” She took a deep gulp of air. “Thank you. Gods, Sera, thank you. I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“You don’t need to repay me—well, you could by ensuring that she never finds out the truth.” I had no idea what Marisol would think if she knew. Would she be grateful? Or would she be confused? Scared, even? Angry?
“I will make sure she never knows,” she swore, and a moment passed. “You have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
“That what you just did is nothing short of a blessing.” She appeared as if she wished to shake me. “You’re a blessing, Sera. No matter what anyone says or believes, you are a blessing. You always have been. You need to know that.”
Feeling my cheeks warm, I started messing with the buttons on the lightweight coat. “My hands are special sometimes. That’s all.”
“It’s not your hands. It’s not even your gift, and that is what it is. A gift. Not a failure. You’re not a failure.”
I drew in a shuddering breath that did nothing to ease the sudden burn in the back of my throat. I kept toying with the button. What she said…
I didn’t think she could understand how much those words meant to me. And I didn’t think I could acknowledge it because doing so meant acknowledging how much all the other words hurt.
“Sera,” Ezra whispered.
I cleared my throat. “You should probably get her checked out by the Healer. Maybe not tonight,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “In case there are still some signs of how serious her injury was. But she should be looked over.”
“I’ll make sure she is.”
I nodded and then peeked up at her. “Does your father or the Queen know about her? About you two?”
Ezra coughed out a laugh. “Absolutely not. If they did, the wedding would be planned before there was even an engagement.”
My lips twitched as I unfolded my arms. “And would that be so bad? You love her.”
“And I…I think she loves me.” She dipped her chin, a half-grin forming. “But it’s still new. I mean, we’ve known each other our entire lives, but it’s not like either of us knew what we meant to each other the whole time. Or, at least, realized it. I don’t want the Crown involving themselves in it.”
“That’s understandable.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You should get back in there.”
“I will.” She hesitated. “Why don’t you join us? While we’re getting cleaned up, I can have food sent to my chambers.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m going to head to bed soon.” I saw her throat work on a swallow. “You should get back in there with Marisol.”
Nodding, she started to turn but then stopped. She crossed the short distance between us and folded her arms around me.
I stiffened at first, shocked. She was touching me. She was hugging me, and I didn’t know how to respond to that for several seconds. My senses were overloaded as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around her, returning the gesture stiffly. The hug felt awkward and strange…but then it felt like something wonderful.
Ezra embraced me—squeezed me tightly—and then let go. “I love you, Sera.”
Overwhelmed, I watched her step back and smile shakily. I stood there as she turned and made her way back to the carriage. I didn’t breathe until she was inside.
I swallowed thickly, briefly closing my eyes. “I love you, too,” I whispered.
Turning slowly, I hurried across the courtyard, away from my stepsister and the carriage—away from the first time someone had hugged me. And away from the cold kiss I felt against the nape of my neck, the dread that was steadily replacing all that warmth, settling like a stone in the center of my chest and warning me that I had crossed a line.
I had done as Odetta had warned.
Played like a Primal.
Chapter 19
It had worked.
I couldn’t…I couldn’t even begin to process what I’d done. I’d brought a mortal back to life. I wasn’t sure if I’d just never believed my gift would work on a mortal or if it was because I’d never believed I would do it. And the silvery glow? That was completely new. Did it happen because I had used my gift on a mortal? I wasn’t sure. I lay in bed for hours, unable to shut down my thoughts enough to fall asleep, even though the cold press against the nape of my neck had long since faded.
No one would ever know but Ezra. Marisol would never learn the truth, and Odetta’s warning would not come to fruition.
Everything was fine.
Nothing had changed. Marisol’s soul hadn’t entered the Shadowlands yet, so it wasn’t like he—the Primal of Death—would even know. I’d only done it this once, and I would never do it again, so I needed to stop dwelling on it.
The night sky had already begun to give way to the gray of dawn by the time I finally drifted off to sleep. I tossed and turned on the narrow bed, the thin night rail itchy in the stale heat of my room, the pillow too flat and then too full. I dreamt of wolves and serpents chasing me. I dreamt of chasing a dark-haired man who wouldn’t look at me no matter how many times I called out to him. And each time I woke, I swore I heard Odetta’s voice in my ear.
I wasn’t sure what finally drew me from my fitful sleep, but when I opened my eyes, my head wasn’t even on the pillow, and the glare of the late-morning sun was bright. I blinked rapidly, surprised that I had managed to sleep this late. I hadn’t planned on that, but I was relieved that the ache in my temples had receded as I rolled onto my back.
Tavius leaned against the closed door of my bedchamber, arms crossed over his chest.
I stared at him for what felt like an eternity, not quite sure if I was really seeing him. There was no logical reason for him to be in here. None at all. I had to be having a nightmare.
“Nice of you to finally wake,” Tavius said.
I snapped out of my stupor, jackknifing upright. “What in the hell are you doing in my bedchamber?”
“Do I need a reason? I’m the Prince. I can go wherever I please,” he replied and then laughed as if he had said something funny.