XXXI

S weat covered every inch of Stella; the product of a hard training session fueled by a combination of lingering humiliation and anger from her last interaction with Raphael. She had never trained with such focus or drive, and if Nova's approving looks were anything to go by, it was noticeable. At least one good thing came from that disaster , Stella thought as she wiped the back of her hand over her brow.

"You've improved," Nova commented as they finished their cool. Stella cast Nova a thankful smile. "I mean it. You had great spatial awareness and more control over your limbs." Nova grinned. "You didn't hit me accidentally once , or trip over yourself. You've really stepped into your own as a fighter."

"Is it weird to say that I noticed too?" Nova shook her head still grinning. "I felt more in control and aware," Stella told her, a matching grin stretching over her face. "I don't know how to describe it but these past couple of nights it's like everything keeps clicking into place. Like the universe is on my side or something." It was the truth too. Despite the "incident" with Raphael, she felt she was moving her life in the right direction. Finally.

"I think the word you're looking for is confidence." Stella's eyes widened a fraction. "It makes a world of difference, doesn't it?"

Stella didn't know what to say. She supposed she was more confident, but it couldn't be just that. Not when so many other little pieces and realizations had come together to center her.

"Maybe," Stella replied.

Nova gave her a knowing look and teased, "Now you just need to put some swagger behind it and the Dark Court won't know what hit them."

"Swagger? I think they might respond better to fear."

Nova's eyebrows rose as she looked her up and down. "Okay, damn! Fear it is." They both laughed before wordlessly cleaning up after themselves. Stella was wiping her face with a small towel when she caught Nova staring at her.

"What is it?" Stella tossed the used towel in a nearby laundry bin and hoisted her gym bag over her shoulder.

She cleared her throat. "I just want you to know how much I appreciate you. I'm glad I've stuck around long enough to see you grow as much as you have. Not just in here, you know? Out in those halls too. I'm proud of you, Stella. I hope you're proud of yourself too."

A rush of emotion barreled into Stella leaving her fighting back tears. Nova smiled sadly at her. Kept busy by dodging punches and kicks, it had been easy to set aside the knowledge of Nova's impending death. There was no running from the fact now, not with Nova broaching the subject.

She must feel her time is coming.

The thought cut like a knife through the heart. "Nova, you—"

"Anyway, I know we haven't talked much lately since I've been spending so much of my time with Ruby. I still wanted to check in on you. What's going on with your dreams."

Stella looked around the room furtively, wiping under her eyes with the back of her hand with a not-so-discreet sniff accompanying the motion. "My dreams?"

Nova nodded.

"Oh, um." Stella sniffed again and glanced at the ground. Her dreams had been blessedly normal the past few nights, well, except for…

"Whoa, I don't need to hear about those kinds of dreams."

Stella's gaze snapped up. Her cheeks held onto the heat her memories stirred in her. "My dreams have been fine!" She declared in a voice that was an octave too high. "I've been making sure to set intentions before I sleep like Valdora said."

"Are those intentions to get laid?"

"No!" It was just that her mind had been on Raphael a lot recently thinking of all the ways things could have happened between them after the marking. She'd tried to close off their connection as best she could, thinking it might help, but it hadn't. Dreams and heightened feelings still snuck through. Her flush spiraled down the length of her neck. "It's been to not dream of scary things," she explained. "At least until I get time to practice with Valdora or River."

Her deliberate travels to that strange demon out-posting aside, she promised herself to wait to dream walk for Valdora and River's supervision and guidance.

" Right . Those not-scary dreams you're having, wouldn't happen to be about a certain individual whose signature look includes gloves, would it?" Stella's flush answered for her. Nova sighed. "You can't trust him, Stella. The guy is as slimy as an eel. He's a demon—"

"A half-demon."

Nova leveled her with an admonishing arch of her eyebrow and flattening of her lips. "Even if he only had one drop of demon blood in him, I wouldn't place my trust in him. You shouldn't either. You're smarter than that."

Stella bit her tongue. She wanted to tell Nova she knew all too well that Raphael wasn't to be trusted—how she endured his cruel treatment and discovered his plans to kill her—but the words fell flat on her tongue. Nova wasn't discrediting him based on those facts, but on something he had no control over. It was a thing she too had often found herself doing in the past…

But not anymore. After all, how many in the court made harsh judgments about her based solely on her banshee heritage?

Maybe it was another growth in her journey, or the soulmark subtly manipulating her, but before she could think better of it, she replied, "Jax trusts him."

Nova's features shifted into a frown.

"Jax is going through a midlife crisis. He misses Ronan and he's butt hurt about the Irina situation. Raphael is just a holdover. But make no mistake, guys like him prey on the weak."

Stella's flush returned tenfold. "I thought you said I was a fighter?"

Nova softened her expression. "You are, but court politics are another thing altogether to study." Stella glanced away, swallowing thickly. "Promise me you'll stay away from him now that you've—" Nova stepped closer to her and lowered her voice to a whisper "— you know ."

Stella cleared her throat and nodded. After the marking, she'd boxed up the knife with Raphael's blood and the towel she'd used to clean up and took it straight to the Vranas'. That had been two nights ago. Besides the initial gratitude relayed by Deval, she hadn't heard a word from them. Not until Nova came knocking at her door two hours earlier claiming she'd gotten lazy in her training.

"I have something for you." Nova produced a letter from her duffle bag on the ground. It was creased at one corner, but the card kept its shape for the most part. Stella's throat went dry, and a terrible fear roiled through her.

She didn't reach out to take it, despite Nova holding it out in front of her, battling away her unexpected panic.

"Come on." Nova gave the letter a little wave. "I had to beg River to let me deliver it on top of me promising a favor. The favor part doesn't bug me that much since I won't be around to fulfill it, obviously, but the begging? River was a little too smug for my liking. Gets it from Irina's side of the family, I guess."

"Is that…?"

Nova gently pushed the card into her hand. "Read it for yourself and find out. Congrats, kid, and not just on that. Valdora confirmed her suspicions about the, you know, and it's all thanks to you."

Stella's jaw dropped as she stared at Nova in happy disbelief. "Really?"

"Come by on the 30th in a couple of nights."

"I thought they weren't going to be able to try until the 31st?"

Nova shrugged. "They work fast." Nova checked her watch. "You cool if I bounce?"

"Sure."

Nova spared her a smile before taking off at vampyric speed. Stella blinked rapidly to supersede the dizziness that came with trying to track Nova as she left. Her attention dropped down to the unopened letter in her hands. A smile curled her lips as her heart filled with unprecedented joy.

She was going to be a Vrana. She was going to have a family—and not one that kept her at arm's length.

A shaky breath parted her lips. No other banshee in court history had dared to be so ambitious as to align and integrate with one singular household. It was more than just a mark in the history books. She held safety in her hands. The peace of mind that someone would always have her back and not be some second-tier obligation.

The feeling of relief and happiness that flooded her body almost overwhelmed her. She released another breath, this one long and steady to regulate the adrenaline firing through her. It didn't stop the laugh that snuck out of her. Stella quickly covered her mouth, looking around to see if any of the room's occupants paid her mind.

They didn't, yet an inkling of something tingled at her senses. An ominous foreboding she didn't understand. Stella looked around the room again unsure of what she sought as the inkling lingered. When nothing made itself known, she put the letter into her bag for safekeeping and prepared to go.

She would read it in the privacy of her room where—

" Ugh!" Stella bent at the waist as pain erupted across her abdomen. Her eyes watered. What the hell was that?

Stella knew the answer intrinsically, and her body did as well. She sprinted to the exit following the urging of her soulmark.

"I don't want to go that way." Layla eyed the expanse of the second subfloor with something close to disgust. "Too many people."

"There's not that many," Raphael countered. "It will be quicker to walk straight through and take the main staircase down. Besides, the only courtiers we might pass are those who woke early enough to train and are crossing to go straight to the Turkish bathhouse."

As he spoke, a pair of men did just that.

"No. We took the long way to deliver the package and we should take the long way back as well."

Raphael sighed. "Fine. Lead the way."

She cut behind him and aimed at the back of the concourse. A mighty push on the edge of some oversized portrait revealed a slender opening to a brightly lit staircase that only went down.

"Here I thought I knew every hidden passage in court."

"It's new," Layla told him. "Made a few weeks ago, I think."

Raphael's steps slowed as surprise registered through him. "I didn't know they made new ones."

Layla glanced over her shoulder at him. The barest twinkle of mischief glinted in her eyes as she smiled—albeit sadly—at him. "It's a secret."

"Noted," Raphael mumbled and followed Layla to the stairwell's natural end two floors down. He helped hold the heavy tapestry open for her to slither out and was quick on her heels to check the hall they entered. "I'm not familiar with this area. Do you know how to go down from here?"

"It's more of a feeling," Layla replied absentmindedly trudging forward. Raphael watched warily as she smoothed the hair over her ear in repetitive strokes. He gently intercepted her wrist and drew it down. Layla sent him a sidelong glance filled with hollowness.

"Your runes are looking well. I see you've gotten more too." His thumb grazed the top of her cheek, running over the fresh cuts.

"I've been working hard on my ascension plans. Our Lord approves." She shuddered and then smiled wistfully.

Raphael let his hand fall to his side. "Do you need my help?"

She nodded, but it seemed more to herself than in response to his question. It bothered him, her inwardness. It felt wrong , even though he knew it wasn't uncommon behavior for demons of despair.

"Let me know when you need me, and I'll be there for you. Always."

Layla stopped at the next intersection of hallways. The lights flickered against the walls. Raphael cast a suspicious eye around them. No one appeared from the shadows. Still, he frowned. He might not be able to see anyone, but that didn't mean they weren't being watched from some unseen place.

"Because you love me?"

The frown wiped itself off Raphael's face as he replied in instant earnest. "Yes." He took her clammy hand in his. "You never have to doubt that."

"But do you love her?"

Raphael's brow bunched. "Who?"

"The banshee?"

Raphael choked out a laugh. "Gods, no. Why would you ask that?"

His soulmark twisted painfully as he gave his answer. Raphael didn't know why. It was the truth. He didn't love her. The only person he loved in this life was standing right next to him.

And , he supposed, Jax, in a brotherly way. Gods, I'm becoming a sap.

"You should kill her."

Raphael swallowed. "I told you that's not my directive at the moment."

Layla frowned and looked away. "Have you at least made her dream?"

"Don't concern yourself with my tasks. I'll get them done in due time," Raphael fondly tugged on one of her curls, bringing Layla's attention back to him.

She swatted at his hand but stopped midmotion, eyes widening as they locked on something behind him.

"Raphael," Layla whispered and backed up a step.

He didn't let her go far, snatching one of her wrists and hauling her close. Raphael didn't dare turn around and take his eyes off the two vampyrés approaching behind Layla's back. He recognized one of them as Francesca Medici. A mop of springlike red curls graced her head. They gleamed from the candlelit scones lining the halls.

A chill of foreboding washed over him, only for his newly uncovered magic to rise in response to the threat.

No, no, no. Raphael's hands curled into fists to tide the head rising in his palms. Now was not the time to show off his new little talent.

"We've been looking for you everywhere, dear." The smile Francesca wore showed off her fangs, eyes on Layla. Raphael glanced as fast as he could over his shoulder. Two more Medici stalked toward them from the opposite direction.

Fuck.

If he was a full demon, he'd have them writhing on the floor, delirious with pleasure, so that he and Layla could make their escape. If Layla were a full demon, she'd leave them in heaps of anguish so profound they might do them a favor and kill themselves.

But they weren't.

Layla was more likely to spin herself into a downward spiral than anyone else. As for his demonic reach… the leather of his gloves whined as his grip tightened. It was useless without skin-to-skin contact.

"You've been so hard to pin down. You always manage to run off into the shadows or find some dark corner to hide in. It's truly remarkable."

"Raphael." Layla's voice was deadpan. "You're hurting me."

He cursed and released her without a thought. Layla at once took advantage of her freedom and slipped away from him.

"What are you?" Raphael's question faded off as he watched little slices appear again on Layla's face. Droplets of blood collected on her cheeks but didn't spill over. Raphael's eyes widened. Another new set of runes—he didn't know whether to be worried or proud.

Layla held out her hands to either side of her, warding off the vampyrés approach with no success. "Stay back," she warned.

"Mmm, your blood smells sweet, little demoness."

Raphael tensed as Layla's frame trembled. Her eyes closed, tears sneaking out the corners. " Drown with me ."

A ripple of disquietude rippled through the air. It surprised Raphael to feel even an ounce of it, but it was clear as Layla continued to tremble, she was pouring everything into her influence. It was working, at least on Francesca and her companion. A quick look confirmed the twosome who approached from Raphael's back weren't affected at all.

Raphael bit back another curse. They didn't feel it because he was nullifying her powers, and yet Raphael hesitated to move. He didn't want them to have a clear shot at his sister.

"Best leave while you can," he told the twosome as he turned to face them. "She's not going to stop until they rip out their hearts."

The vampyré on the left with hair pomaded to the heavens wavered, then his eyes bled red as he shoved himself in front of his shorter friend.

"Move aside. Our family's got questions for that one," he spat.

Raphael tried to keep his body loose and his heart rate under control. Adrenaline rushed through him. "She's a bit preoccupied at the moment. If you need questions answered, I'd happily offer my… services." Raphael began to take off one of his gloves, cringing internally as he gave the man a sultry once-over. He needed to divert focus from Layla.

"I'm no frocio ," the man replied with vitriol.

His friend, hovering a few steps behind, shrugged and eyed Raphael like he was a walking blood bag. "Speak for yourself, Dante."

"Enough of this," Dante growled.

Raphael stood his ground as the vampyré strode forward. He only needed him close enough to put his hand on him. Unfortunately, his options were limited to Dante's face or hands. The threat of Dante taking a bite out of him if he got too close to his face was deterring Raphael from reaching for one of his hands. However, a head couldn't dodge or maneuver with the deftness of a hand.

Head it is.

Raphael's power filled him—and then it filled him some more. Scorching fire filled his veins as he summoned a poisonous amount of lust to his reaching hand… and fire. Not now! Panic stole over him, and then, faster than he could process, Dante's fist smashed into his gut.

" Gods ," Raphael wheezed as he fell to his hands and knees. It was impossible to catch his breath. Even more impossible to make the world stop spinning before his eyes. His diaphragm spasmed before the most intense cramping sensation enflamed his entire abdomen. Raphael groaned as tears smarted his eyes.

He peered up at the situation. Three of the Medici now surrounded Layla, his attacker Dante one of them. Yet none could get within arm's reach of her.

The semblance of a laugh choked out of him as he struggled to catch his breath and push past the pain. She was holding her own. She was holding them back. Pride swelled through Raphael only to fracture at the sight of darkness convulsing in her eyes.

" Layla ." Her voice was a hoarse whisper over his tongue as he brought himself to his knees.

Francesca stumbled forward a step with a sob reaching for Layla. He needed a better plan than relying solely on their powers. Raphael didn't think—he acted. Pushing onto his feet, he careened toward the nearest wall sconce. The protective glass shattered under his fist. Raphael tore off his remaining glove and fed it to the flame.

"Come on, come on, come on. "

The leather refused to catch, but the glove's silk lining wasn't so difficult. Raphael waited for more flames to eat up the glove before spinning on his heel and chucking the newfound weapon straight at the back of Dante's head. His aim was perfect. Dante's chemically lathered hair instantly caught fire.

In breathless satisfaction, Raphael watched as Dante let out a high-pitched scream.

"Impressive." Raphael stilled, his eyes moving swiftly off Dante to the remaining vampyré. "I never really liked him, but the other two?" His tongue clicked disapprovingly against the back of his teeth as he prowled to Raphael. "They'll be hell to pay for that. Nothing personal, you understand."

Raphael made to dive for Layla, but his speed was no match for the vampyré. Before he could blink, his back was against the wall with a cold hand wrapped around his throat. The vampyré before him smiled serenely.

"You can use your little power on me all you like," he purred. "It'll make killing you so much more enjoyable ."

"Fuck you," Raphael spat, his hands coming up to clasp the vampyré's bare wrists. Two things happened simultaneously. The vampyré let out a lurid moan as his head tipped back, and he constricted his grip to a point that nearly made Raphael's eyeballs pop out.

Raphael released him and the cold noose around his neck vanished. The vampyré staggered back several steps with a wild laugh, his pupils saturated with lust.

"That was fun," he panted and licked his lips. "Let's do it again."

Panic struck Raphael's nervous system as the vampyré made to lunge but froze mid-step on the balls of his feet. Raphael blinked. He didn't understand what was happening. Neither, it seemed, did the nameless vampyré. Lust bled from his gaze in favor of frenzied fear and anger.

Raphael looked at Layla and the other three attackers. The vampyrés remained in states of fixed agony. Dante, the poor fool, was unable to douse the flames now tearing over his clothes and flesh. Layla turned to him, but her gaze caught on something down the hall. He followed her line of sight and sucked in a sharp breath at who he saw.