Page 68 of Lux

It hurts to acknowledge that. It hurts so much I can’t hold back the tears any longer. What aches most of all is the way Caspian so delicately avoids those aching, empty spots. He turns his attention higher up, to my shoulder instead.

“These are new,” he explains, stroking to indicate a patch of skin from spine to shoulder, extending halfway down my ribcage. “Tattoos, they seem like.”

In his thoughts, I catch a glimpse of the marks: two ebony birds with feathery wings that mock the loss of my own.

“Altaris said you could hear them,” he wonders out loud. “In your head. Do you?”

“No,” I lie to him. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it. I don’t even feel guilty.

To be a hybrid—and now a hybrid, murderer with fake wings made of ink and dark magic in her skull… It is too much. Too many abominations to deal with all at once.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Caspian relents. Although he knows I am lying, he has not challenged me yet. Rather, he lets his hands fall away, and I feel a chill from the lack of his touch.

“You should get dressed,” he says. Then he stands and hands me my dress.

Huddled on the floor, I pull it over my head. I stay there, even as Caspian begins to pace the space around me. He fiddles with a set of knobs in the corner to adjust the heat. He goes to the fridge. Rummages around. Pulls out the remaining slices of bread. Then he places two on a plate and sets it down just within my reach.

I sense him retreat to a far corner after that, watching me still.

It’s so strange. In contrast to Day, he isn't prone to outbursts when ignored. The only thing he does is wait. He waits for themood to pass. He waits for me to stop crying. He waits for me to speak.

He knows I will eventually speak again.

“I need to find her,” I say. “The woman in the ledger. Whether she is my mother or not. I need to know what happened. The truth. I can’t go back until I do.”

Regardless of whether the fae is Night Aurelia or someone else, the implication remains the same: yet another lie they told us will be proven false. This one even Altaris believed. Real fae can and do enter the mortal realm. They can linger.

In addition, they are capable of procreating with creatures other than fae.

This fact complicates matters, provoking a concern I had never considered before. Caspian has been with me unbidden and without protection. No safeguard against what mating is meant for.

What if…

“You can't,” he says, helping himself to these thoughts, which include him. “Fae can only breed once they become Night.”

How does he know?

He shakes his head before I can ask. “It is how they keep them controlled. Otherwise that creepy fae Day of yours would have sown plenty of spawn.”

The hatred he has for him seeps into me. Day's arrogance enraged him. It bothered him how he spoke to me. In fact, Caspian had every intention of killing him when he tried to kiss me.

It was only after he saw my face that he restrained himself long enough for me to have the opportunity to act.

I swallow hard at the realization. Restraint is a new skill for him, one he is still learning to grasp. He made himself try, even then, for me.

In the same way, I will try to embody aspects of him. No more sniveling and weakness for me.

“Day would know,” I rasp. “He would know if our mother ever left. What she looks like. Why my wings were stolen. He knew everything.”

Sometimes, he hinted at things, daring me to ask. Good, sweet, honest, and obedient Niamh never would.

“There is a bounty on you,” Caspian replies. “For his death. You killed him and stole me according to them.” He laughs at that.

I sigh. There is something else apart from my scars that I haven’t let myself acknowledge. A sinking sensation. A feeling. An omen.

“I do not think he is dead,” I say thickly. “I think he is alive. I… I think I can feel him somehow.”

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