Marianna“I’m not rejecting you,” I rush out, clasping his hands. “Blake–”He slides his hands from mine and steps back, an unreadable expression shadowing the planes of his face. “Are you–”“Do you want me here? With you? Me and Skye? Is… is there something here for all of us, Blake, with you?”His lips part, but no sound comes out. He looks shocked–that mask of indifference slipping just a touch. “Can we have a life together?” I ask, my heart beginning to tremble. “We–”“Can you let me in, for real this time? Everything. I need–I have to see everything. You can’t hide anymore. I can’t be with just parts of you, Blake. I need it all. The good parts, the bad parts. The parts that scare you, that you think will scare me–”The magic coating the room quakes–an alert, I surmise, that someone is coming. Blake ignores it, his hands shaking slightly as he takes hold of my face and leans his forehead against mine. “I–I do want that,” he says with great effort. “But–”“But I’m not some fie
MariannaI wake to spring rain and hazy gray sunlight filtering through modern blinds that don’t match the intricate stonework surrounding the windows. Gray paint makes the room darker than it should be, maybe even a few degrees colder than I’m sure it is outside. I stretch like a cat, groaning as my body pops and sizzles from lack of movement, then blink at the ceiling–domed, with a crystal chandelier hanging overhead. I realize with a start I have no godly idea where I am, but I’ve… hell, I’m not even surprised at this point. I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lives over the past two or three weeks, so what’s a strange bed in a strange room? A room that smells like Blake at his rawest. The door on the far side of the room smacks against the wall as it flies open, and a dark-haired blur is my only warning before Skye flies onto the bed.I catch her with a crunch that stifles Blake’s rushed exhale as he follows her into the room, but he stops near the foot of the bed, his eyes sweepi
BlakeIt’s late afternoon when we finally return to Moonrise. Marianna slumps in my arms as I spirit us directly into my suite, which is dark, the curtains pulled, and the blinds closed to the outside world. Rain pelts the windows. I lay Marianna in my bed, and she groans, blinking wearily up at me while her skin flushes a pale green. “How do you people travel like that without throwing up every time?” she rushes out, trembling. “Most of my family members do, in fact, throw up. You haven’t yet, so consider yourself one of the strong ones.”She’s limp with her eyes shut before I even finish the sentence. I walk through the fifth floor’s eastern wing of the palace, which I normally have to myself, when Leona comes rushing around a corner, nearly knocking me over. I grab her by the shoulders to steady her as she gasps in surprise. “Blake! I heard you were back, and she–”“She’s fine.” I slide the keys to my suite into her hand. “She’s lying down. Jumping here wasn’t easy on her.”“Ken
BlakeThe castle grounds are full of sunlight and bees when I step out of my car and squint against the brightness reflecting off the exterior windows. I brush a bee off my shoulder, which gives me an angry buzz and zooms to the nearest group of rose bushes, which are in full bloom now, painting the garden in shades of red and pink. It’s a quiet day, a weekend, which is why I planned to be here this morning. Both of my parents are here and alone. A flash of platinum blonde catches my attention, and I turn to my mother, who’s crouching in a thicket of hydrangea bushes only a few feet away. She pokes her head up, beaming at me, but that smile fades when she sees the dark expression casting shadows over my face. “Blake? I didn’t realize you were coming today. I spoke to Kenna, and it sounds like you were very busy in Moonrise. Someone got cursed?”“Can we talk? Where’s Dad?”“He’s inside,” she says, her eyebrows pinched together as she dusts her hands off on her gardening apron–a silly
MariannaMisty’s house looks homey and warm in the light of midmorning. Coffee scents the air as she moves around her kitchen, opening and shutting cabinets. I rest on one of the stools at the kitchen island, nursing a mug of coffee with cream and vanilla syrup she makes herself, while scanning the family pictures on the walls. Blake rushes back into the kitchen, dressed in sleek navy trousers and a light blue button down, a matching navy blue suit jacket completing the ensemble. He presses the quickest kiss to my temple before darting to the garage, his phone already pressed to his ear. Misty watches him go, smirking to herself, before she continues rummaging through her cupboards again. Blake drove me over here about twenty minutes ago. He changed his mind about me tagging along while he talked to his parents, and I can’t say I mind. I sigh deeply into my coffee, my stomach in knots for him and what the next day, next week, and next year might look like. “I have a friend coming o
BlakeI wake in the dead middle of the night to the feeling of being watched. The voices in my head skitter through my gray matter, whispering, tittering like they’re holding conversations with each other that they don’t want me to hear. Hushed whispers from the heavens cease abruptly as I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and look down at where Marianna is curled beside me, her head resting between the pillows. Her hand falls down my chest, settling in my lap. The moonlight paints her skin in silver. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I run my fingertips over the curve of her bare waist, waiting for the voices to return, but they stay silent, giving me this moment. Once, I told Maeve to find the thing that turned the dial on her powers to a simmer. That thing that turned her off, kept her level, made it easier to function. For so long, I thought music was what did that for me. All this time, it’s been her. I didn’t anticipate how last night would go. Standing in my apartment wi