Chapter Twenty
HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER DIDN’T EXIST; Candra knew this. She had learned it as a grieving child long ago, crying into the lap of her new stepmother. Happy-for-now was all anyone had to hang onto. Life was nothing but a series of moments, and all that lay ahead was a blank slate, a book with empty pages. Fairytales ended all the time in the real world. Maybe the bank foreclosed on the castle or the prince developed a gambling problem. Where were the books telling little girls that the prince may become complacent about their relationship, or the princess might end up spending her days in bed, alone with a tub of ice cream?
Candra lay very still and wide-awake the entire night, watching as the light from the window moved across the strange room. Shadows shifted over surfaces and stirred the darkness. It seemed as if time was a ghost haunting her, refusing to allow her to hide from what had happened by the lake. By the time hazy sun sliced across the end of the bed covers, Candra gave up trying. Lack of answers didn’t help. She needed some kind of reassurance that no one could give her—reassurance that everything would work out.
What if these grand plans Sebastian and Draven imagined the Arch had for her were just that…imagined? What if there were no plans, and just like Sebastian had once said, they were all just walking around with their heads up their asses and bumping into each other, looking for meaning in their life? Everybody she knew seemed to be waiting on tenterhooks for some grand design to make itself known. Surely no Arch meant no plan? A broken heart seemed unimportant in the bigger picture, if they were really on their own. So why did it still hurt so badly?
Candra turned over, groping for the source of the noise so obnoxiously disturbing the sleep that eluded her until after sunrise. Her mind still whirled with images of flames, shattered glass, and the scent of freshly mown grass. Her hand slapped down repeatedly, but instead of landing on her bedside table, her palm hit soft cotton—expensive, smooth cotton. When the sound came again, she blearily opened her eyes, and the memory of the previous night came back to her as painfully as a kick in the gut.
She wasn’t in her own bed, and by the blade-thin light streaming through the crack in the full length drapes, she guessed it was already mid-morning. Between a head congested from crying and stinging eyes, it took a moment to assess her surroundings. Candra scooted up to find herself dwarfed in an enormous dark wood four-poster bed, propped up on dozens of marshmallow-soft pillows, and covered in a rich, dark red brocade bedspread. Beyond that, the rest of the huge darkened room was no less elaborate. It was filled with ornate and sumptuous furnishings, from the chaise lounge near the carved marble hearth to the wood of the gleaming armoire. The entire room was classic opulence—Draven’s home.
The knocking that had woken her started again, more insistent this time.
“Yes?” Ouch, she thought to herself, rubbing at the base of her throat in a futile attempt to ease the rawness.
“Can I come in?” Draven called from the hallway. Even through the thick paneled mahogany of the door, she heard the anxiety in his tone.
Candra groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes as she recalled going home and feeling suffocated by Sebastian’s absence. Strange, how the absence of a person could be almost as suffocating as their presence. She’d driven the borrowed car around for several hours and had found herself at the entrance to the underground parking garage, crying and babbling incoherently into an intercom when the full impact of Sebastian’s betrayal had hit her. She cringed into her pillow at the vague, fuzzy recollection of being carried through the hallways, refusing to let Draven call Sebastian to come get her, and then finally…damn, she couldn’t remember finally. Candra decided, much to her mortification, that she must have fallen asleep and been put to bed by Draven.
“Please,” she called again, checking to see if she had been undressed. Heat radiated over her chest and bloomed across her cheeks. The T-shirt that would probably have covered the tops of her thighs had ridden up to her waist under the covers.
Candra squinted as golden light flooded the room from the hallway. At first, she could only make out Draven’s outline carrying something large and flat. Her hand flew up on instinct to shield her eyes.
“Sorry,” Draven murmured contritely and pushed the door closed with the sole of his bare foot.
Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she realized the large flat object was a breakfast tray. He carefully placed it at the end of the bed, so far away she could have stretched out fully, and still, her feet wouldn’t disturb it. Whatever lay under the domed silver covering the plate smelled divine, and her empty stomach growled. Without saying a word, Draven came toward her and held out both his hands. In one, he held a tall frosty glass of water, and in the other, two small white pills.
Candra’s heart constricted, and she swallowed thickly. Draven’s thoughtfulness inadvertently reminded her how Sebastian had fed her water and painkillers the morning after Ivy had been murdered. Both of them could have taken her pain away using a curleax, but they recognized that sometimes, Candra felt the need to wallow in her humanity.
“Thank you,” she croaked out, taking them from him.
Draven nodded with a sympathetic smile and motioned with his eyes to a glass lamp on a side table. Candra nodded and popped the two pills in her mouth, following them with a half glass of iced water. It was just what she’d needed to clear the fuzz from her tongue, but she knew the rest of her would take a lot more.
The fringed drapes tied around each post at the corners of the bed concealed the lamp light a little and blocked some of it from hitting her directly in the face.
“I’m guessing you aren’t ready to face the day yet,” he said, returning to the tray. Draven was dressed in his usual jeans and shirt, and his hair gleamed like wet glass. It threw her back in time to the first day she’d witnessed Draven unfurl his wings in the great ballroom of the same building. She’d been mildly intimidated by the expanse of jet black feathers that rolled over his back like a glistening oil slick from a blue-black mist. Staggeringly beautiful and immensely powerful, that time it had been in reaction to Sebastian’s attack, and her intimidation had quickly turned to irritation at them for fighting over her.
All Watchers were striking, but there was always something exceptional about Sebastian and Draven that set them apart in her eyes. If she took Lilith’s word, they were intricately bound to each other and her because of their past and their position among the Watchers. With horror, it dawned on her that Sebastian still numbered among her protectors, and it would be a matter of time before she had to face him again. Her eyes flickered away when she noticed Draven’s lips curve into a smile, and she realized she was staring.
“It’s okay. I really don’t mind,” he told her as he laid a starched linen napkin across her lap and handed her a fork.
Candra blushed yet again and gazed at the fork twisting in her fingers as if it were some alien object that she had no idea what to do with. They still hadn’t discussed what she was doing in one of his guestrooms or why she had landed on his doorstep, crying her eyes out late at night.
He took the glass of water and placed the tray up on her lap before sitting on the edge of the bed. Candra’s stomach continued to churn a little. Draven lifted the polished silver dome and leaned down to the floor, coming up empty-handed. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for food yet, even though it did look good—crispy bacon and fluffy scrambled egg whites with toasted wholemeal triangles on a rack. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted from the small matching silver pot on the tray. Her mouth watered, and her tongue involuntarily peeked out to run across her lips.
“You called him, didn’t you?” she accused, keeping her eyes on the tray.
“No, I didn’t call anyone. Now, eat up before it gets cold.”
When she didn’t, Draven took the fork from her hand, scooped up some of the scrambled eggs, and held it to Candra’s lips. She stared back at him blankly until he arched a brow in a silent challenge. He intended to feed her if she didn’t feed herself.
Any other time, Candra’s first reaction would have been to grab the fork out of his hand and berate him for treating her like a child, but this time, she didn’t. She was drained and too emotionally raw to fight Draven off. She reasoned with herself that he was the one she had run to in her hour of distress. On some subconscious level, she wanted him to look after her. She’d sought out his comfort, so why should she turn it down now? Candra opened her mouth and allowed Draven to feed her, ignoring the glint of confusion in his eyes. Clearly, he’d expected her to fight.
“Now you decide you give in,” he said off-handedly when she took the final piece of egg from the fork and chewed carefully. His shoulders shook in disbelief before he picked the tray up and brought it over to the door.
Without him ever having to speak a word, the door opened, and a burly Watcher Draven had introduced as Nathaniel took it from him. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but she heard liquid swirling around a cup, and the aroma of coffee grew more intense. Draven excused Nathaniel with a nod of his head and closed the door quietly, turning back to Candra.
“Do people always do what you tell them to?” She still found the whole hierarchy among Watchers hard to stomach, the way they seemed subservient to ones who’d ranked above them a millennia ago.
Draven grinned, clearly amused by her question. “I would think, given the asker of the question, the answer would be self-evident. I have never met a more contentious being in my entire existence. Even Sebastian’s obstinacy pales in comparison to—”
His words abruptly cut off in the same instant Candra felt her expression morph from curious to miserable. Her face drew down in a scowl, and her gaze lowered to see the detailed embroidery on the bedspread blur. Her fingers curled into a fist, stabbing her nails into her palms. She heard the shuffling of feet and a quiet clang of china on wood. Then Draven’s hand came into view, cupping hers. His other hand threaded up into her hair, pushing it away from her face to encourage her to look at him.
“Okay, I admit. I lied a little, but I didn’t call Sebastian. I know I said I wouldn’t lie again, and I have. There’s no need to cry.”
Candra almost smiled at his bereft tone. She would have if it wasn’t for the fact he’d admitted to lying. She was such a hypocrite, wanting the truth from others while guarding her secrets.
“I called Brie to tell her you are here. She took some convincing to let you stay. That woman is scary.”
Candra did manage a smile at his observation and wiped her damp eyes. When she lifted her face, Draven’s stare fixed on her. Three thin lines had formed across his forehead, and his shoulders were rigid with worry. He smiled his full, blinding Hollywood smile. He tried to break the tension by saying Brie was scary. Nothing scared Draven. It crossed her mind more than once that this was the reason he had never taken a mate: no one to lose meant never having to be scared of losing them.
“I’m sorry,” Candra began, her voice cracking on the words. She paused and took a deep breath before she continued. “I didn’t mean to show up on your doorstep. I just didn’t know where else to go.”
“You could have gone home,” he suggested kindly. “Brie really was worried. She said she thought you were with Sebastian.”
Candra forced herself not to look away. She chewed the inside of her cheek, noticing the ragged flesh had seen more attention than usual lately. She still held out hope she wouldn’t need to say the words aloud. She didn’t know if she could.
Draven’s eyes brightened in understanding and shimmered with gold when they caught the light from the lamp as he shook his head. “So this is Sebastian’s doing. I thought it was strange he didn’t show up ranting, but then I received word he was drowning himself in liquor at some sleazy bar on the lower east side of the city.”
Candra remained unmoving except for her fingers clenching to the point of hurting. “Was he alone?” Her voice came out barely above a whisper, with no conviction. Her heart pulsed rapidly inside her straining ribcage, so hard the vibrations flowed throughout her. Her traitorous body shivered despite her efforts to hold steady.
Draven pulled one hand away from her hands, and his fingers went straight to the back of his neck, massaging out an apparent knot. His nostrils flared almost unnoticeably. Someone else may not have seen it, but Candra did. She watched for any movement that might give away the answer Draven wasn’t voicing. His guarded expression appeared neutral, while his thumb continued to run in soothing circles over the back of her hand.
“Has he done something to hurt you?” Draven asked carefully. The darkening color over his cheeks gave away that he wasn’t as impartial as he would have led her to believe.
Candra bit the inside of her cheek again, tasting coppery blood on her tongue, and finally averted her eyes, peering out at the small patch of daylight through the drapes.
“Candra?”
Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe and felt sure it was a bad idea to drag Draven into her personal mess, because that was what it was—personal. As long as Sebastian stuck to his side of the deal and sided with Draven against Lilith—there was no doubt in her mind he would—what happened was between them. This was all such a mess because the only impartial person she could have talked to about this was Ivy; everyone had a potential side to take as Sebastian’s friend or, in Draven’s case, his ally. Ivy had been the only one who wouldn’t judge her for being weak because she questioned what she did to make him turn away. Or for wondering if he had gone to a bar to get drunk because he hated what he’d done to them. But Ivy, or what was left of Ivy, remained trapped inside Lilith. Candra was alone.
Draven cupped her chin gently and encouraged her to face him. Candra resisted wrenching away.
“It’s personal.”
Draven sighed deeply. “Really?”
“Really.” Candra glanced at him.
Draven nodded sadly. “I know I haven’t given you reason to trust me…but you can trust me. You know that, right?”
She nodded, wishing she hadn’t finished the eggs now roiling savagely in her stomach. She badly needed a shower. All the crying from the night before had left her skin grubby. The thought distracted her so much that when Draven touched her arm lightly, she jumped.
“You have asked me not to call Sebastian, and I’m trying to do what you ask,” Draven started seriously. His thumb ran back and forth across her skin, making the fine hair rise and her skin prickle. “There are things at stake here, Candra. There are people relying on us to keep them safe. I need to know if Sebastian is jeopardizing that, and if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I won’t have any choice but to ask him.”
Candra pulled her arm away and cupped her hands in her lap, feeling like a reprimanded child and in no mood to be hauled over coals. “You should talk to Ananchel about what happened. It doesn’t concern me anymore.” She swallowed hard, trying her best to keep her emotions at bay.
“Ananchel?” His top lip curled back in confusion, and Candra guessed that for all his life experience, she was going to have to spell it out for him. Her heart seemed to be beating inside her stomach, sloshing everything around like a stormy sea.
She took a deep breath, looking down and picking at a rough edge on a broken nail. She kept her voice low, knowing she had to tell Draven. In hindsight, it had been an odd decision to run to the place where Ananchel lived too. It wasn’t as if Sebastian wouldn’t chase her there if he wanted to see her, but he didn’t. What did that say…that he didn’t want to see her? Of course he doesn’t, she told herself. Every moment around her recently had been torture to him. Her grief had been overwhelming, and she took every scrap of it out on him. Why had she run to Draven? Candra didn’t want to think about that yet, other than the certainty that Draven cared for her. She’d needed that when Sebastian rejected her.
“Sebastian slept with Ananchel.”
Draven’s lips parted slightly, revealing the edge of his pearly white teeth. He said nothing. He didn’t so much as take a breath.
“Did you hear what I said? Sebastian slept with Ananchel, and then he broke up with me.” The words were a blade lancing straight through her. Tearing into some part of her that she was sure had been damaged irreparably. It hadn’t hurt the way this did when Philip had cheated. It had never truly bothered her at all. As soon as she’d found out, she’d walked away and never looked back. It wasn’t like a chisel and hammer slowly chipping away at her spirit and self-esteem, making her into the type of girl she’d always hated. All those years, she’d laughed at girls who needed a guy to measure their self-worth.
“I heard you. I just don’t understand. Why would he do that?” His straight black eyebrows drew down, and his dark eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened, although his tone was so flat that Candra couldn’t tell if he was furious or simply didn’t believe what she said.
“Maybe Ananchel provides services I don’t, or maybe Sebastian likes trolling for skanks. Does it really matter why?”
“Are you okay?”
Candra shuffled away from Draven to the opposite side of the bed and pulled the covers back carefully so as not to expose herself. “No, I’m not okay. I’m confused, and I’m hurt, and I’m angry.” She was right about the T-shirt covering her upper thighs when she stood, and she reached for her yoga pants draped across a nearby Queen Anne chair. “This T-shirt isn’t mine.”
It wasn’t a question or an observation. She wasn’t sure why she mentioned it.
Draven kept his back to her and his head down. The fingers of both his hands bunched into the bedspread by his side. “It’s mine.”
“Thank you.” Candra blushed and decided she didn’t want to elaborate on how she’d found her way into his clothes as well as his home. “The worst part is I’m not angry at him anymore. I don’t know if I’m even angry at her.” She pulled on the pants and slipped her feet into her shoes. Her voice rose with each word, and her heart pounded faster until her face heated and flushed scarlet. “I’m angry at myself. I’m so angry, I could spit nails. I let him get to me. I let him get inside my heart and my head.”
“He told you this?” Draven’s tone remained even with an icy edge.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” Candra mumbled into the sweater she was pulling over her head.
“Of course you should,” Draven disagreed vehemently. “I thought I made myself clear on this. We are all in this together now, no matter what happens, and you have as much right to shelter here as anyone.”
Candra paused, watching Draven from behind. He turned his head, slightly in profile over his shoulder, although he didn’t look at her. “I want you to come to me whenever you need to.”
“Shelter. You make it sound like I was hiding.”
“Weren’t you?”
“Thank you,” Candra said again, this time with an unsteady quake in her voice.
The unanswered question hung in the air between them. The one he’d asked at the ball, and she had never answered. He’d let her go but had asked her to stay. There had been something between them from the beginning. Most of it, Candra had put down to Draven’s angel influence, but something lingered after. From Draven’s point of view, the attraction between them was always there, and he’d simply nudged it at the correct time. Despite everything that had happened, they had formed a friendship.
There was no denying Draven understood how the minds of people around him worked. He understood both her and Sebastian enough to manipulate them into falling in love. She found it impossible to hate him. Throughout their strange courtship, Draven had unwittingly exposed himself, his fears and weaknesses. He didn’t see himself as others perceived him. Part of Draven was insecure and constantly doubting himself. He didn’t enjoy deceiving her. Looking back, she wondered if it had hurt Draven to open himself up, knowing if his plans succeeded, he would end up cast aside in favor of his longtime nemesis. Had it hurt him more than she’d appreciated? A guilty shudder wracked her body. She hadn’t considered Draven might construe her sudden appearance the wrong way.
She fixed her sweater quickly and pulled on her jacket. “I have to get to class. I’m so late already.” She grabbed her bag and walked around the bed to face Draven.
Awkwardness descended on the room, making each step she took clunky and labored. Draven wore a guarded expression. His chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths and gave no clues about his thoughts.
“Look,” Candra began in earnest, “this has nothing at all to do with what is going on with Lilith or the Watchers. It has everything to do with Sebastian and me not being able to get our crap together. The one thing I’m positive about is Sebastian doesn’t want anyone else to die. He’s left that part of himself behind. You don’t have to worry.”
Still, Draven said nothing; his eyes moved over her face, seeming to reach into her soul and burn with awareness. Candra flushed when Draven stood. His presence dominated the entire room and made him seem so much taller that he actually was. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had been alone since they’d kissed. Well, apart from a few minutes in a hallway. Candra wasn’t sure she could count that time since there had been hundreds of Watchers on the other side of the doors and guards roaming the halls.
“I have to go,” she said, a little wobbly on her feet all of a sudden.
“Come back tonight.”
“I don’t know if I should.” She didn’t want to mislead Draven. Just because Sebastian was out of the picture didn’t mean she was moving on, and she didn’t want to treat Draven like a runner-up. Everything could be different soon.
Draven reached out without warning and grabbed her wrist, holding her there with him. His tongue peeked out and stroked his bottom lip. Candra’s heart thudded harder in anticipation of whatever he was about to say, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he brought her hand up to his face. While Candra looked on and an inappropriate rush of exhilaration made her chest heave, he ran his nose back and forth across her wrist. Draven had done this the very first night they’d met, before she’d known who and what he was. The night the charming and slightly creepy stranger had swept her off her feet. It looked as if he was inhaling her scent and felt somehow deeply intimate. What she’d felt then and what she experienced now didn’t compare. The rush of heat making her blood boil came from knowing him for more than his startling navy eyes and chiseled features. He’d freely admitted that he’d never stopped using his influence on her before the ball, but she wondered if he’d ever needed to use it in the first place.
