My heart breaks out into a sprint. It’s so full of gratitude, and Alivia’s words fill me with confidence and affirmation.
“Thank you,” I say quietly as she straightens.
“Any time,” she smiles. She turns, going back to the clothes she’s packing. “Now, as much as I’d love to stay and help you with all of this mess, I really do think I need to get back to my House. These problems are bigger ones than I feel qualified to deal with.”
I laugh at that, and then sigh for myself, because no one can deal with it but me. “I understand. The next jet will return in a day and a half. You and Ian can leave then.”
Alivia nods, closing the bag, as packed as she can get it for now. “Now, can I ask? What’s the deal with Cyrus?”
I tense up a little at that. My defenses rise, prepared to fight. “He’s been through a lot. It shouldn’t be surprising that he’s easing back into things a little slowly. I’m happy to take the reigns for a while.”
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mean with that. I get it, Cyrus needs a break and all this drama isn’t where his head is at. I meant with the two of you.” She smiles. “I mean the epic love story of Cyrus and Logan.”
She places a little emphasis on the word Logan, and I know what she’s getting at.
Instantly I feel my face blush. I shake my head, dropping onto the bed behind me, and let myself flop back onto it, to stare at the ceiling.
“Is this what we’re supposed to do, as mother and daughter?” I say, smiling as I stare up at the ceiling. “Talk about boys and our feelings?”
Alivia lies on the bed too, our bodies in a tee shape. “Well, we do have twenty years to make up for. And maybe we’ll never be mother and daughter in the traditional sense. But I think we can be friends. At least I hope so. I mean, we do nearly look the same age.”
I laugh at that and flop an arm over my eyes.
But really, it will be nice to talk to someone about it.
I’ve kind of lost Amelia. I don’t have my own mom to talk to anymore.
“It’s been a little challenging,” I confess. “Cyrus came back the day of the solar eclipse.”
I hear Alivia make this little sound, like duh, of course. But I move on.
“And it’s been complicated, dealing with everything outside and holding it all together. But…” I consider my words. “But the last sixteen days have been some of the happiest of my life. Which doesn’t happen for me.”
Alivia reaches over, tucking her hand into mine.
“I know everyone has their ideas about him and experiences with Cyrus,” I continue. “But it’s so different when it’s us. We do and don’t take each other’s crap. But mostly it’s just…good. We’re…we’re really happy.”
Alivia squeezes my hand. “I’m so glad to hear that.” She takes a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “Everything that happened between Cyrus and I ended up leading to pain, but I can say this: my heart has always ached for Cyrus. I don’t think there’s a person in the world that could have looked into his eyes and not seen his pain. I’m happy for him that he doesn’t have to go through that anymore.”
She means it. I can feel that.
So I squeeze her hand too, and for a few minutes, I can let all the weight on my shoulders go. I can just appreciate the moment of lying here, with a friend, talking about the man I’ve fallen in love with.
Chapter 25
As further apology, I plan a party. Partly, just to say sorry for seeming like a jerk who locked everyone up, and partly going away party for Ian and Alivia. It’s a lot of work to plan on my own. Considering we still don’t really have any staff around to help, it’s just me and Eshan pulling it all together.
When I tell Cyrus my plan, he glowers at me, muttering something about having to be in the same room as Alivia.
“Okay,” I growl. I turn in the closet, where I was digging around for something to wear tomorrow evening for the party. “This has got to stop. It’s been how long since you and Alivia had your drama?”
“Sixteen years,” Cyrus says, lifting his chin. I see his defenses bristling as I step up to the yelling plate.
“Exactly,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “We may not be the closest, and no, we’ll never have a mother and daughter relationship, but I think I’m starting to like the woman, and she’s always going to be a part of my life. So you and her need to get past this damn contention and get over yourselves.”
I step forward, grabbing Cyrus’ hand, and haul him toward the door.
“And just where do you think you’re taking me, Logan?” Cyrus demands.
“We’re having a sit down with the two of you, right now,” I say.
I’m pushing Cyrus to his limit. I know I am. But I also know the influence I have over him, and if I have to, I’m going to use it over him if it means finally getting these two past this drama.
“What about this idea makes you think it’s a good one?” Cyrus demands, though he doesn’t pull his hand out of mine, and he doesn’t try to stop me.
“It’s my idea,” I scoff. “Of course it’s a good one.”
I stalk down the hall toward Alivia’s room and knock loudly. When she opens with a surprised expression, I grab her hand too, pulling her out of the room, and all three of us march down the hall.
“Lo…” Alivia stutters. “What…what is going on, Logan?”
“We’re all going to have a little chat,” I say, and that’s all the explanation I offer as I march us down the hall, down the next floor, and straight into my office. I stuff the two inside, and close the doors behind the three of us.
I turn in place, glaring at the both of them.
“This little feud needs to end,” I state. I fold my arms over my chest. “Today. Alivia might have toyed with your emotions, Cyrus, but I’ve also heard from a lot of sources that your reaction wasn’t exactly level-headed.”
Instantly, both of their eyes ignite red and their expressions contort with rage.
“She dared tell me she’d dreamt of castles,” Cyrus seethes. “She dared to hold me close and whisper words that made me believe.”
“Words, Cyrus!” Alivia snaps. She turns toward him, smacking her fist into the opposite palm. “Those were only words! You humiliated me, in front of Raheem, in front of Ian. In front of the whole Court!”
My initial instinct is to jump between the two of them, to force them to speak nicely and chill out.
But as they continue yelling, I realize that maybe this is what they actually need. After sixteen years of holding in this resentment, maybe they just need to let it all out.
“You used me to take care of that joke of a problem, Jasmine,” Cyrus seethes in Alivia’s face.
“You terrified me into taking my own life!” Alivia yells right back.
This entire fight is incredibly revealing. There are so many aspects of their time together, while Cyrus investigated if Alivia was Sevan or not, that I had no idea about.
“I warned Raheem, I warned you, that it would not be wise to pursue your attraction to one another,” Cyrus hisses. “But the whore that you are, you let him risk his life and pulled him into dark corners and also whispered in his ear. And now I have forever lost my best spy.”
“You took advantage of Raheem, and you know it,” Alivia shouts back. “No, I shouldn’t have led him on. But you didn’t know that I was Sevan. You had no right to make the demands you did.”
On. And on, they fight for over an hour.
I keep waiting for it, the moment when one of them will physically attack the other and I’ll have to jump in and pull them off of each other. I’m sweeping the room with my eyes, looking for weapons they might use against each other.
Alivia won’t be able to kill Cyrus, we’ve seen that proven multiple times now. But Cyrus could certainly put an end to Alivia.
But they just use words. The just keep screaming at each other.
I cringe a little. No wonder they hate each other so
much. They did some really awful, terrible things to each other. Alivia certainly knows how to use words against someone. Cyrus certainly strikes back in physical ways.
He shattered Alivia’s face once, apparently, when she accused him of not knowing what love was, saying he didn’t know what love was considering what he did to me.
Ouch.
It rolls on for another half an hour, and even I’m getting exhausted.
Finally, there’s a lull in the accusations. So I step forward, standing just three feet from the two of them.
“Now that you’ve gotten all of that out of your systems, I want to ask you something.” I look from Alivia, to Cyrus. “All of that shit that happened between the two of you, what does any of it matter now?”
Alivia and Cyrus quickly look at one another, each of their eyes widening for a moment, and then narrowing in thought.
“Cyrus, does it matter that she said those things to you, that she led you to believe she might be someone she wasn’t, now that I’m back?” I ask.
He can’t seem to find words. He stares at Alivia. His lips are slightly parted, but nothing comes past them.
“Alivia, I think you understand Cyrus’ pain, and while what he did to you was terrible, do you not understand it to some degree?”
This side is harder to argue.
“Cyrus, does Alivia ever need to be afraid of you, now that I’m back?” I say the words firmly.
His eyes shift over to mine. And as he looks at me, I see his gaze soften. I see a deeper regret forming in them. I see the present and commitment there in them.
“No,” he says quietly as he stares at me. His brows furrow, and I think he finally realizes now. His gaze shifts back to Alivia. “She’s right. It was painful then. But…” He shakes his head and looks back to me. He reaches out, and I gladly take his hand. “None of it matters now.”
Alivia continues to glare at Cyrus. The hurt in her direction won’t be so easily forgotten. Not when he held her prisoner here for over a month, left to rot. Not when he branded her and her House. Not when he twisted not only her heart, but Raheem’s, and Ian’s as well.
“I think I’ve been waiting for more backlash for sixteen years,” Alivia admits. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up at my doorstep and torture everyone in my House again because the memory of what happened between us might surface. I’ve been living in a degree of fear for a long time, Cyrus.”
His gaze floats back to Alivia, and I see, he’s now realizing the power and influence he’s always held. He’s been thousands of miles away from Alivia, on the other side of the world, but she’s lived in constant fear of him.
He’s held an ache in his heart over what she did. But it’s nothing in comparison to the panic and fear she’s dealt with for so long.
“Our feud is over, Alivia Conrath,” Cyrus says. The words aren’t easy for him to promise, I can hear it in his tone. “Unless you give us further reason to doubt your commitment to our kind, you have no more to fear from me.”
I see it in her eyes. Like something lifts out of them. Like the burden of her fear just rose off her shoulders and dissipated into the air.
“I’m sorry I made you hope,” she whispers as emotion rises in her eyes.
“I’m sorry I was such a tyrant.”
Those may be the biggest words I’ve ever heard Cyrus speak.
And it’s a huge miracle I’m witness to, when Cyrus reaches his hand forward, and Alivia shakes it.
Holy shit.
I think I was just witness to the ending of an era.
Chapter 26
I slip the ruby red dress over my head and straighten it around my body. It hugs me everywhere, in all the right ways. Even I smile a little as I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, taking in the back of the dress, which is ruched and highlights my features nicely.
“May I help you with that?”
Cyrus’ voice purrs from the bedroom. He steps into the bathroom, heat and hunger in his eyes.
I blush and smile, turning my back to him.
He takes hold of the zipper, very, very slowly sliding it up. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder. Electricity sparks in my blood, in my brain, in my lower belly.
As he tops the zipper off, I turn, bringing my hands up behind his head. I lace my fingers together, trapping him in my embrace.
“The way you look tonight, Logan,” Cyrus growls, touching his forehead to mine. “I don’t think I can let you out of this room.”
I smile, tilting my lips up to his. I don’t kiss him, I simply let my lips brush against his, teasing the both of us. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
It’s true. He wears a suit. Black trousers tailored to fit him precisely, a stark white shirt with a black tie. Black vest, and black suit jacket that highlights every dip and bend of his body.
I want to devour him.
I reach up, caressing his face. And as if Cyrus can’t wait any longer, he dips his mouth to my neck, nipping and sucking, claiming me as his, forever and ever.
“There’s a party downstairs that I’m supposed to be hosting,” I say through a blissful smile.
“They can entertain themselves,” Cyrus growls. “Fredrick is a very talented singer. Let him take over the evening’s plans.”
“Oh?” I groan as he kisses his way across my throat to the other side of my neck. His fingers tighten in my dress, pulling me closer. “I had no idea.”
He makes an affirmative noise, but doesn’t stop claiming my skin.
I give a lustful little moan but then push him back, taking his hand in mine. I use my best bedroom eyes when I look back at him, teasing him over what is to come later.
I don’t really know what is to come later. I still haven’t mentally been able to make myself move on from kisses and wandering hands.
“It’s rude to be fashionably late,” I tease when he tries to pull me back and keep me in the room. “And I will make you pay if you mess up my hair.”
This makes him smile. He pulls me back in for one more quick kiss, and then follows me out of the bedroom and into the hall.
Music floats to our ears when we reach the stairs. The scent of food makes my stomach growl when it wafts its way through the stone hallways. I hear voices chatting off in the distance.
“I want to thank you,” Cyrus says as we walk hand in hand toward the party. “For what you did, with Alivia and I. It was a conversation neither of us ever would have had on our own, but I feel…a sense of relief, now that we have.”
“You’re welcome,” I say with a smile. He kisses me once more before we round the hall.
I could stay here with him all night, his hands wandering, mine clinging to every muscle of his frame. But this is a going-away party, and I must say my goodbyes—and apologies.
So, hand in hand once more, we turn, and walk through the huge, double doors into the parlor.
The room is dripping with gold and all the soft surfaces are velvet red. A golden chandelier with tinted crystals hangs from the high ceiling. Mirrors are hung all along the walls, making the room feel bigger and more crowded than it actually is. The side tables at the ends of each couch or chair are gold-plated.
The furniture is elegant and expensive. Crushed red velvet makes them seem soft and inviting. A lavish rug is spread over the black marble floor.
The room is decadent. Over the top.
But it fits the mood of the night.
It took us a while, but after inquiring with first Dorian and Malachi, and then Matthias, Eshan and I found three soldiers who were said to be fabulous cooks. Looking at the spread on the table at the back of the room, I know we weren’t misled. They’re nowhere to be seen now.
Eyes turn to Cyrus and I as we enter, and I find that everyone has already arrived.
Alivia looks stunning in a solid black dress that accents her thin figure. Ian sports a tuxedo. Eshan and Fredrick look pretty dashing in their own suits, as does Horatio. And Mina wears a black leathe
r number that fits her to a T. Dorian and Malachi are dressed in the fashion of the area they reside in.
It’s a relaxed night. I make a speech, thanking them each individually for the ways they have helped me over the last few weeks or months. I raise my glass of blood to each of them in a toast.
It feels like it’s too easy, to gain their forgiveness. Because each of them smiles, raising their glasses to me, as well. We all sit together, as friends, and enjoy the delicious meal prepared by hands that have pretended to hold us all captive.
The conversation is light and easy. There are smiles and jokes.
Until Eshan speaks up with his ignorant words.
“So, we all saw it,” he says, looking down the table at Cyrus. “Your head was cut clean off. Were you dead all that time, or just taking the world’s best nap?”
There’s seven different intakes of breath. Everyone sits back in their seats just a bit. And all eyes snap down to Cyrus, because every one of us is dying to know.
I’ve been meaning to ask the question, but I just haven’t been able to make myself form the words.
Eshan immediately realizes his mistake, that he took things too far and too casually. His face immediately pales and he shrinks back in his seat.
But the words are out, and Cyrus can’t ignore them.
I look at the man seated beside me.
His eyes take on a dark tone, and he looks up around at everyone from beneath his eyelashes. He twirls his fork in his hand, and then gently lays it down on his plate.
“I’ve never experienced death, even after all these years,” he says finally. “So I cannot say that I know what it feels or looks like. But I do not believe that was where I was.”
There’s a silent beat. And collectively I can nearly hear us ask, then where were you?
“While Sevan worked to bring me back,” Cyrus continues, reaching over to take my hand, “I felt as if I were here. I wandered Roter Himmel. I searched for a way back. I visited all the familiar places. I felt like I was lost. Except when she found me.”