Nox set about his task of hanging the sheet across a line from the loft to the kitchen with this absurdly sized sheet. Light emanated from all the tree’s surfaces and from a window high enough above them to come from within the tree’s trunk. Meanwhile, he took in the tale-tale silence of Rayne over thinking his question.
After a few more heartbeats, she said, “I know you dress more for my comfort.”
Ah.
Nox stopped stretching to hang this thing and glanced over his shoulder at Rayne, waiting for her to continue.
Kindness filled her voice as she offered, “You can go around without a shirt in the treeloft. I mean…” Pink kissed Rayne’s cheeks, and Nox returned to his task, eyes off of her. She continued to explain, “I want you to be comfortable here.”
Quite.
Did Rayne realize how much she martyred herself? Nox made her uncomfortable, with only a gap in his shirt. Yes, the material on his skin grated. However, he understand something vital to this arrangement.
Rayne would never clutch at Nox out of malice or control, and frankly, she was welcome to clutch at him anyway she wanted.
“I’m fine as I am.”
Did she mutter something? “What was that?”
Rayne asked, “How was your last six months?” Movement from above indicated she was unpacking.
Nox was fairly certain that’s not what she’d said. He crossed from the kitchen to the stairs in fifteen steps. He thought better of knocking when Rayne came to the railing and greeted him with a curious smile.
Nox said, “I met my contacts, as I’m sure you met yours. It was an experience different from any other to work among regular people, almost completely anonymous.” He felt silly as he climbed into the compensation-sized bed to drape the sheet down the line on the other side.
Rayne sat on the bed with a sigh. “Yeah. I know what you mean. There’s so many Rayne tributes, I mostly blended in. I still think some people can sense that… whatever thing the Tritans said about me—”
“Your biorhythms are synchronized within yourself and the Probability Matrix, but it’s not the only reason you stand out.” When Nox righted, he accidentally bumped into Rayne. Catching her from falling off the bed meant searing his hand on her back tattoos…
Rayne blinked into his face, inches away. She breathed, “You can touch gold.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Nox considered this lack of another weakness he attributed to the resurrection—
He took entirely too much notice of the softness of Rayne’s skin and the firmness of the well-toned muscle beneath.
Rayne breathed against his hand, staring into his eyes, and their pulse raced. Nox tried to resist, but his gaze went to her lips, the color of rose petals and fuller still.
Rayne bolted up from the bed and cleared her throat, resuming her task of settling in. She spared not one glance in his direction.
There was a time when Nox would find Rayne’s reaction arousing, stimulating the chase. He’d once relished such a streak of confusion and self-doubt cultivated over endless nights of reminding Rayne how small and fragile her body was. It had become more satisfying after Rayne grew stronger and more sure of herself that she’d still felt threatened by Nox’s physical prowess.
Now Rayne’s internal turmoil only hurt Nox. Deeply wounded him in ways he needed to unpack before he could reassure her in the only language he understood between them. Nox vowed, “I won’t take anymore pieces from you, Rayne.”
She stopped midway through folding a shirt and hugged it to her chest. Was Rayne on the verge of tears? Nox didn’t want this. Not anymore. He stood slowly and kept his distance from her as he went to the stairs. Perhaps, after some privacy, she could withstand his presence—
“Nox.”
Halfway down, he turned and faced the woman he loved and had wronged irrevocably.
Rayne lifted her chin a little higher as she said, “I know you won’t hurt me. That’s not why I got off the bed. It’s less about you than you think because Eternity knows you love me.”
Nox considered the softness of her voice—the sadness in it. A thought occurred to him. “Is it because of Xelan?”
The answer was in Rayne’s eyes before she could hide it. So that’s what she and Xelan had discussed in their private conversation.
After running a hand through his hair, frustrated, Nox said, “Whatever he told you, he’s right. We can forget this moment ever happened and get back to work. The curtain’s up for the shower.” He glanced around, taking in the loft’s openness. “There’s not much privacy, but I promise to respect your space. I’ll go out and check our surroundings, and perhaps find something to eat.”
“Nox, wait.” Rayne followed him down the stairs and stood on eye-level with him three steps up. “I agree focusing on work is best for us, but I want us to be friends here. Like we were before.”
“I’ll miss you.”
Nox would never forget Rayne’s confession before they’d parted. Looking into her eyes now, he knew she had, in fact, missed him. As he had missed her. He nodded to assure her before asking, “How will we go about killing Celindria?”
Rayne held up a finger as she climbed the stairs and returned with a tablet. “This is how.”
Nox glanced through the files—histories, eyewitness accounts, locations. Impressed, he asked, “Where did you get all of this?”
“Mostly Xelan. As you saw in his Verse, he’d planned to take on Imminent all along. But matters grew more complicated and out of his hands. Now, we’ll pick up his work.”
Nox frowned a little. “And he approves?”
Rayne insisted with a nod. “Xelan wants to come in on it at some point, but I want to keep the Shadow at bay for as long as possible. He has a kid. Then Korac and Sagan have Echo. I—we—have nothing holding us back.”
Free agents. It seemed wrong Rayne lived her life this way, broken and unattached because she was never granted purchase. But Nox understood. He held up his index finger. “I insist on one caveat.”
“Anything.”
Recovering, he said, “We bring Korac in first. Sagan, too.”
Rayne beamed, and it melted Nox. “You got it, Night King.”
Oh, yes. Their time here would prove quite interesting, indeed.