VI

Y ou can do this , Stella reminded herself. You practiced .

But as she followed the water droplets tumbling down Raphael's face and neck, she became transfixed by the way they caught in the smattering of hair across his pecs. Stella gulped, eyes drifting lower to the rune tattoos that covered his chest.

"Will you be ogling me all morning, or…" His voice trailed off suggestively.

"I wasn't ogling," she protested. "I was sizing you up."

Raphael looked as if he was holding back a laugh. The seam of his lips sealed shut in a knowing smile while his torso shook. "And?"

"And what ?" Stella snapped, flustered beyond belief. She wanted nothing more than to seat herself on the opposite side of the spring, but she refused to be cowed.

"What conclusion did you come to? Or had you not finished yet? I'm happy to provide a full view since you so politely averted your eyes last time."

Stella glared as he began to rise. "Thoroughly lacking."

He froze at her dry delivery, a flash of surprise darting over his expression before it settled once more back into its arrogant pose; one corner of his mouth quirked, head slightly bowed, and a half-lidded gaze.

" Sit ." Stella crossed her arms.

Raphael lowered at her command. His brown eyes never left her. "Remind me again, love. What am I supposed to be helping you with? Some dramatic makeover to help you fit in at court? Lessons in indecency? I'm quite proficient at the latter."

"So, I've heard." Stella regretted the comment as soon as it slipped from her tongue. All vestiges of playful mocking dropped from his face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"Make no mistake, I have no qualms against my reputation at court." He dragged his hardened stare over her. "It's you that should be concerned."

Stella's stomach clenched. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you're aware of your reputation and image at court. The poor, pathetic banshee who can't stomach her own supernatural powers and cowers behind a bottle of rhodiola." The blood drained from her face as Raphael scoffed. "Nobody in this court has an ounce of respect for you, which is why you'll always be an easy target." Raphael paused, holding her gaze for what felt like a century as his words sank in and turned her body cold. "I'm no miracle worker, even I can't sway the masses to turn from such convenient prey."

The truth of his words cut at her like razors. Every syllable and pause was delivered with silky venomous succinctness to inflict as much damage as possible. As their gazes held, she wondered how he could be so mean .

Stella convulsively swallowed to hold back the tears that threatened and broke their standoff first, aiming her eyes to the water's gleaming surface.

It wasn't the first time she'd been assaulted with such hateful speech. She doubted it would be the last. Though her heart squeezed painfully as his words whirled at the back of her mind, Stella managed to rein in her tears. Glancing at him, she noted with revulsion that he seemed almost pleased with himself for having hurt her. It steeled something in her.

She wouldn't let him win. She certainly wouldn't allow him the satisfaction of hurting her again. The next blow suffered will be his , she promised herself.

Stella hitched up her chin. "You're an outcast, Raphael. Your entire kind despises you. So, you'll excuse me if I won't put much stock in your opinion."

"I beg your pardon?" Raphael barked out a laugh as an incredulous look passed over his face.

She barreled on as momentum built inside her. "Despite these things, somehow, you've managed to make something of yourself here. Build a name for yourself and your… talents." Stella rearranged her hands to sit in her lap. "You will teach me how to thrive here. And if you don't, I'll inform Jasmine you reneged on the terms of our bet."

"Jasmine? Really? That's your play?" Raphael smirked and ran a hand over one of his horns. "That vampyré's words aren't worth shit ever since her lover tried to backstab the Beast. Everyone knows that."

Stella recalled the fight. The Delacroix had deemed her presence mandatory and made her stand on the pit's sidelines. They wanted to see how the prize fighters would react if she predicted their death with her infamous scream.

Would they falter and be delivered their killing blow then and there?

Would they run?

Would they fight harder ?

She'd attempted to explain on multiple occasions that her predictions didn't always happen immediately. The longest one of her ill-fated marks had lasted after hearing her banshee caoine was close to a month.

Yet, it wasn't the Delacroixs' cruel sense of amusement that gave the memory such bite but the feeling that had torn through her when she screamed for Hugo's inevitable demise. It was difficult for her to put into words even now. All Stella knew was that the feeling was wrong . Disturbed at its very foundation somehow.

Before she lost herself entirely to the dark memories, Stella shoved them away and returned to the present. "Jasmine's a well-known regular at the Styx now. She doesn't play for fun. She plays to win. People might not like her, but she's built a trustworthy enough reputation as a player to know you'll get a fair game out of her."

"Because she can't afford to cheat or cause a scene like the rest of them," Raphael countered.

"Which only adds to her credibility." Stella tucked her hair behind her ear. "Whether you like it or not, there is some code of conduct and honor in the Dark Court. Nobody takes kindly to those who go back on their word." She gave him a pointed look. "They kill for far less. If I tell Jasmine that you've backed out…" Stella trailed off and let him fill in the blanks.

Raphael cocked his head to the side. "You realize I never said I was backing out of helping you? I was merely explaining the hopelessness of your little fantasy."

The sting from his words didn't come as Stella expected, instead, they rolled off her. Stella stared back at him coolly and relaxed. She offered him a lazy one-shoulder shrug. His sights narrowed in consideration as he regarded her.

"Fine." Raphael's resignation rode on an exasperated sigh. "I can see you won't be swayed by logic against this fool-hearted plan of yours." Stella bit the inside of her cheek to keep her eyes from rolling at his dramatics. "But if I'm to help you, certain caveats must be met."

Stella's eyebrows rose. "Such as?"

A fresh smile worked its way onto Raphael's lips, far more devious than his last. The sight made blood rush to Stella's cheeks. You don't have to meet any of his caveats , she reminded herself firmly. You won the bet, not him.

"I've worked hard for my reputation and status in court. Being seen so publicly with you—bet or no bet—would diminish that." Stella's cheeks sucked inward to keep her retort at bay. "Therefore, I must insist we keep this little liaison of lessons private ."

"That's perfectly fine with me," she said. "I wouldn't want people to think I'd sunk so low as to need to find some sort of comfort or companionship in your arms."

Their glares clashed; Raphael's dark, hooded, and all too intense, and Stella's icy spears. Every nerve-ending she possessed attuned to him. Her pulse kicked up, warming her blood from the cold place she'd fallen into.

"Touché."

A strange electric energy danced over her shoulder blades at the small triumph.

Then Raphael continued, "Though, for the record, I doubt you could afford me, love."

Stella scoffed and broke their stare with the eye roll she'd held back. It was so forceful she almost pitched sideways.

She'd known salvaging her blunder with the Lunar Court would be difficult to navigate. But saddling herself with Raphael was quickly proving insufferable. She wanted nothing more than to sink beneath the water's surface and shout her frustration at his casual callousness but refrained.

It will all be worth it once I steal his blood and join the Vrana family.

As Stella's attention reverted to him, she couldn't stop from canvasing the runes tattooed on his chest in search of the soulmark they shared. A lump stuck in her throat as she caught sight of it despite the distorting effect of the hot springs gently lapping the surface. The rune for ash, a capital F with its notches slanted down, sat innocently at the bottom of his sternum.

The same placement as Stella's.

"See something you like?"

Startled, Stella glanced at him. His eyes were darker, and though not demonically so, they possessed a hypnotic quality. It didn't help that the steam of the spring rose around him like an ethereal mist, or that it twined around his horns in a lurid dance.

But no matter the portrait of sinful temptation he painted; his harsh words thus far still rang clearly in her mind.

Stella's lips pursed. "No."

Raphael barked out a laugh. "You're sure you wouldn't rather trade your winnings in for something… else?" He raised an eyebrow and pointedly dragged his gaze down her body. Stella bristled.

"I don't. I want you to teach me how to do more than survive. I want to live here—" Invisible hands took hold of her lungs. They pressed from either side coaxing words out loud she'd never shared before. "I want to thrive here," she stated breathlessly before treading on with quiet passion. Stella's gaze went distant, seeing a future for herself where she no longer lived at the bottom of the food chain but was a force to be reckoned with. "I want to be more than what any of the banshees before me have been. I want to have influence and respect—and not because people are afraid of me. Except..."

Stella's bottom lip found itself under assault from her teeth.

"Except the more people who fear you, the more respect you gain in the eyes of your peers."

She released her lip with a slow scrape of teeth and then found herself nodding. "I don't want people to fear being my friend or an associate of mine," she explained, feeling embarrassed for her admission. "But I want them to know if they mess with me—"

"They'll get your horns?" Stella chuckled despite herself, and her embarrassment waned. When she caught the self-satisfied expression Raphael wore, she cut off her chuckle.

"It wasn't that funny."

Raphael said nothing but smoothed back his hair once more. The wet strands caught in the light and not for the first time did she steal a covert glance at his horns. The golden embellishments—runes it looked like—caught in the warm light above.

Raphael stared at her hard. "If you're looking to replicate my status and comfortable living at court, you'll need to become a master of three things. However, since this is you we're talking about, once you've become at least proficient in them, our bargain will be complete."

"I can master them," Stella protested.

"Mastery takes time, and in your case, I expect an enormous amount of it. So, proficiency, tentative proficiency, will suffice as that's all the time I'm willing to afford this misguided adventure."

"Fine, proficiency it is." A sudden eagerness lit inside her.

"Where to start," he murmured, seemingly more to himself than Stella though his regard pierced her in a way that made her stomach flutter. "Secrets."

Stella blinked and leaned forward a touch. "Secrets?" She whispered back, mirroring his hushed tone.

"There's power in holding other people's secrets and being able to sniff them out in others. Though they can be your downfall if you don't handle them with care."

"What do you mean?"

"Revealing secrets or using them without setting up some insurance for your well-being or the courtier's demise leaves you in a precarious position. Best to keep secrets to yourself and slip them into play—whether to reel someone in or ruin them—through a stacked deck."

A beat of silence followed his instruction before Stella's forehead crumpled into a frown. "Huh?"

Raphael adjusted his seat, sliding closer. "A stacked deck; it means you should choreograph your moves through a number of different people so it can't be easily traced back to you."

"A stacked deck," she repeated under her breath. "Okay, that makes sense. I protect myself from a fallout if things don't go as I plan."

Raphael inclined his head slightly. "Correct. Fast learner, are you?"

She made an indiscriminate noise in the back of her throat. "So, how do I get the secrets?" She asked, her eagerness coming through.

His mouth opened and closed, then he ran a hand over his face. "And for one shining moment, I thought this was going to be easier than anticipated." Stella flushed slightly. "Get them drunk or high. Spy on them. Earn their trust with little favors, and over time, you'll be rewarded. Above all else, have patience, a plan, and a backup plan."

"Stack your deck."

Raphael let out a little huff. A strange expression of annoyed approval graced the creases of his eyes and pursed lips. "Yes."

"And you get your secrets by…" He raised an eyebrow as her voice trailed off.

"I thought it would be obvious. Sex ."

Despite herself, Stella's breath hitched at his velvet delivery. More embarrassing, however, was the reflexive glance she made to his bare groin beneath the water's wavering surface. Raphael chuckled.

"If you can successfully divine a secret from someone of my choosing—someone whose secret I, of course, already know—I'll consider you capable of mastering the skill on your own time."

Distrust wormed its way under her skin. Letting Raphael choose was surely a trap. He raised an eyebrow.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?"

"You'll choose someone whose secret will get me killed."

The faintest click sounded from Raphael's molars snapping together. He took in a long breath, nostrils flaring, before releasing the air in a hiss.

"If this is going to work, there needs to be more trust involved than these crumbs you're giving me. I promise not to choose someone whose secret is to kill you." Raphael drew an X over his heart, then held up both hands in surrender.

Stella still didn't trust him, but she nodded reluctantly.

"What's next on your list?"

He lowered his hands. "Become a threat. Show them bark and bite. Remember, fear will earn you respect here. Make a show of your power and strength once in a big way, and you'll have courtiers second-guessing and messing with you going forward."

Stella mulled briefly over his second item having expected something akin to it. Deep down she knew she needed to prove herself to the other courtiers, or at the least, standup for herself successfully to be treated differently.

"And will you be picking out this target for me as well?"

Raphael's sights narrowed on her. The look drew inexplicable pinpricks up her spine. "I think you'll find it more satisfying to choose your own."

A pregnant pause stretched taut between them. Stella chased it away by clearing her throat and asking what the last item on his list was. He didn't respond immediately, and Stella watched with trepidation as he began to close the meager distance between them.

"Embrace the darkness."

Stella's eyes widened. "What?"

"Embrace the sin. The sex. Every debauched and gruesome murder. No one got anywhere here by being a saint." Stella sucked in a sharp breath as his knee bumped hers. "It's called the Dark Court for a reason, love. Supernaturals vie for a place here because it's where we can unapologetically be ourselves—beasts and all. If you can't embrace your darker side, revel in it, then why bother staying here at all where it's celebrated nightly?"

Raphael spoke slowly, taking care to enunciate every vowel and consonant. The sound soothed some innate part of her, but when he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she flinched back as if shocked. Stella hissed as the back of her head banked against the spring's edge.

He was on her in an instant, fingers threading through her hair to the back of her head and lightly probing the offended area. Stella held her breath as more of his body pressed against hers.

"Are you all right?"

"Uh huh," she breathed out. His gaze ducked back to hers.

"And what do you think?" he asked, cadence hypnotically slow.

"Think?"

A crooked grin stole over his lips.

Lips, Stella couldn't help but notice, that were dangerously close to her own.

"About the last item on my list? Can you embrace the darkness, Stella?" Raphael adjusted his hand, cupping the base of her head and allowing his thumb and fingers to gently massage the area. He leaned his face closer, tilting it at the last second so that his words brushed over her ear. "There must be some part of you dying to be selfish. To be bold and brazen."

Stella choked on a gasp as she turned her head away from him. "What are you doing?"

"Don't tell me this is too bold for you." His lips grazed the rounded slope of her shoulder. Stella bit back a whimper as his fingers worked magic slowly down her neck. "Business and pleasure are often tangled together at court." His other hand casually came to rest on her knee. Stella tensed. Raphael stopped his massage.

Another painful long moment stretched between them. Stella didn't know how to turn him down without fumbling over her words or offending him. She hoped he would save her the trouble and pull away first, or at the very least, say something.

But then his fingers began moving against her scalp again, drawing higher and deeper.

Apparently, I'll have to—

A sharp cry burst from her lips as his hand tightened suddenly in her hair. Bright pain erupted where his knuckles gripped the roots of her hair. Stella whimpered as she met his eyes. Terror settled into her blood at the sight of the ominous and all-consuming blackness that stared back at her.

"Is there a reason you're not begging me to fuck you, or have I lost my touch?" Raphael crooned with notes of fire and ice as his hand slid meaningfully up her thigh. Stella gasped.

"Wh-wha-what?"

His fingers flexed around her skin. "What potion did you consume to cancel the effects of my touch, hmm? Or was it a spell? Did your little witch friend do it?"

Stella squirmed. A terrible fright sank into her as her gaze darted nervously to his chest. Not a potion or spell; a soulmark.

"Well?" Raphael purred, tilting her head back further. Stella hissed. The claws of fear threatened to tear straight through to her heart.

"I didn't do anything," she squeaked.

He yanked brutally at her hair and Stella shouted. Raphael slapped a wet hand over her mouth.

"Don't lie to me." Beads of water from his hair dripped onto her face as he glared down at her. Then forced civility smoothed his features. "See it from my point of view, love." The hair held captive in Raphael's fist loosened, and his fingers once more took up their gentle massage. Stella whimpered uncertainly. "If there's something out there that can nullify my talents, I'll have no use here at court. No way to make money or have influence. You understand, don't you?"

Stella nodded, a shallow dip of her chin.

"Good girl." Raphael slowly let his hand pull away from her mouth. His thumb and forefinger stopped to grip her chin as she took several breaths in rapid succession. "Now, why don't you tell me who helped you. I thought we agreed to meet in secret. You didn't break our deal, did you?"

"I—no." His fingers tightened minutely. "No, I didn't tell anyone I was meeting you. And, no, I didn't take anything to block your power. I don't know why that happened." Stella swallowed thickly. "I swear."

Raphael's lips pursed as he clenched his jaw. "I see," he managed to say between gritted teeth.

"Please, let me go."

He did so with a sigh that would have grated on Stella's nerves if all her focus wasn't on putting space between them as fast as possible. Water splashed everywhere as she shot to the far side of the hot spring. Only once she was sure that he wouldn't dive across to attack her, did her anger arise at him and herself.

Has all my training been a waste? She thought with disgust. I should have paralyzed him or thrown him across the room with my voice to teach him a lesson . Stella bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Raphael regarded her with boredom, if not a measure of irritation. The nerve!

"Perhaps it's you," Raphael suggested, somehow seeming to know that she'd calmed down enough to interact with him again.

"Excuse me?"

Raphael rose. For a tenuous beat, Stella froze in anticipation, but he merely turned and lifted himself out of the spring. She flushed and averted her eyes downward. The turquoise water splashed and surged in little waves at the upheaval.

"I said, maybe it's you. You've gotten all sorts of new powers in the past few months, haven't you? Perhaps this is just another."

Stella scoffed and muttered under her breath, "Unlikely."

"What was that?"

In a second, their eyes connected. The electric bite of tension rode the distance between them.

"I said, maybe it's you ." Stella made sure to punctuate her declaration with a glare that brought a delighted smile to Raphael's lips.

He snatched up his towel and secured it around his waist with deliberate slowness. "Is that so? Interesting theory."

Stella raised her chin a notch. "Plausible too. Perhaps your power is waning."

Raphael scoffed and began to walk toward the exit, taking the long way around the top-tiered hot spring to avoid her. "Tell that to the woman I had dripping all over my cock before coming here," he said as he passed.

Her fingers curled into her palm. "Don't worry," she called to his retreating back. "I'll keep your little discrepancy in powers between us."

He stilled and a rush of victory soared through Stella's blood. Raphael eyed her over his shoulder with pitch-black eyes. "See to it you do." He held her gaze. "I'll contact you about your first lesson in the next few nights." Before she could argue, he was gone, striding out of the room with wet slaps of his feet against the stone floor.