Chapter 41

“Where’s Damon?” Lilitha said.

“Sulking, no doubt,” Mateus said, blowing in her ear.

It was the next night, and they were back at their meeting place. It had been over an hour, but Damon had still not shown. Carmella and Silus were sitting together, neither appearing worried, while Lilitha sat in Mateus’s lap, twisting and turning, scanning the darkness around them.

“Has he ever missed a meeting before?” Lilitha asked.

“Only when he was out hunting for you,” Carmella said.

“Do you think he’ll be back?” She looked at Silus.

“Absolutely.”

Mateus squeezed her. “Don’t worry. You have me now.”

“He will return, Lilitha. Have no fear,” Carmella said.

Unconvinced, Lilitha didn’t speak all meeting. When it finished, she watched as Carmella and Silus left together.

“Come,” Mateus said, tugging her to her feet.

He drew her away to a little brook where an owl hooted and the breeze moaned through a hollow trunk. There, he kissed her, held her. Lilitha pressed her face into his broad chest, rubbing her tears against him. Then he lifted her chin, kissed her again and reached into her cloak, hand grazing her breast.

Lilitha pulled away. “Not tonight.”

He sighed. “Am I not enough for you?”

“I love you Mateus, but I love Damon too. And it’s a hole in my heart.” Her voice broke.

Shaking his head, he pulled away and sat by the stream. Lilitha joined him, sitting between his thighs, his chest hard against her back. He kissed the nape of her neck.

“Here,” he said, tangling a flower into her hair. He cupped her face and tilted her head back so she was looking up at him. He brushed his fingers through her hair. “So beautiful.”

He kissed her on the mouth and slipped his hand into her cloak, resting it against her navel, warm and comforting. Lilitha pressed her hand against his with a sigh.

“You know I’ll look after you, right?” Mateus said.

“I know.”

He kissed her again, lips soft and warm, tongue brushing against hers. Then he slid his arm around her waist, tightening his hold as he kissed harder. He slid his hand back to her navel, pushed below and slipped his fingers inside her. Lilitha pulled against him with a yell. Swinging around, she slapped him. He released her, and she staggered to her feet.

Her Diablon voice boomed through the trees, “I told you not tonight! Can’t you take no for an answer?”

He looked up at her, hands limp in his lap, jaw slack, and the hot fury sweeping Lilitha’s insides quickly fizzled out. Where had that come from?

Mateus sniffed. A growl rumbled in his throat. Then he heaved himself to his feet.

“Mateus! Wait, I’m sorry.” Lilitha rushed after him, seizing his hand as he turned to leave.

He yanked out of her grasp. “And this is what I get for loving you!” His tail swayed and twisted and coiled, then flung out with a ~crack!~ that echoed through the trees. He stormed away.

Lilitha wandered through the trees, hands trembling as she untangled Mateus’s flower and tucked it behind her ear. What had come over her? It wasn’t like her. She was under a lot of stress—that was what it was. And Mateus couldn’t know that. He couldn’t know her doubts, her confusion, her ~scheme~.

He couldn’t know how hard it was to betray him, to betray them all.

She sighed. Above, the canopy had opened again, revealing a sparkling sky. A light wind tugged at the ends of her hair. She stopped and closed her eyes, listening with her ears, with her mind, stretching out her feelings just like Silus had taught her, until the forest’s usual rustlings assembled into whispers. Each day, the voices became more apparent. At each passing hour, her senses became keener until she swore she could almost hear real words on the air. She opened her eyes again. Carmella was close—the forest told her.

Lilitha continued with her walk, following her aroma drifting on the air. It was light and sweet, unlike Damon and Mateus’s bold scents. Mateus was the smell of earth and mud and smashed rock. Damon was like rain on a warm blast of wind. Silus was subtler, but still potent, smelling like a bird flapping its wings. Carmella, however, was more indistinct. She was like the scent of a ripened peach. It was so elusive Lilitha had to keep training her nose. Did Lilitha smell the same? How did she smell to Mateus? To Damon?

Soon the smell of smoke swept Carmella’s scent away. There was a glimmer of light amidst the vegetation ahead. Lilitha stopped and peered through the leaves. Carmella was sitting by a fire, long black hair turned red against the light of the flames. It danced against her smooth, bare skin.

Carmella looked up. “Lilitha?”

Lilitha stepped into the little clearing uncertainly. They’d both been awkward with each other since Carmella’s burst of rage the other night.

“I thought you were with Mateus. Come—” she waved her over “—don’t be afraid. Come and join me.”

“You’re alone,” Lilitha said. “I thought you were with Silus, or perhaps with Dam—” She couldn’t finish.

“Come, sit,” Carmella said, patting the spot beside her. She did. “Now, turn around, I want to fix your hair.” Lilitha obeyed, and Carmella drew her fingers through her lengths. “So, how are things? I hardly get to see you with those bulls all over you.”

“I’m well, but I think I’m making more enemies than friends around here.”

“What are you talking about?”

Lilitha’s voice shook. “First Damon hates me. Now Mateus.”

“Hates you? I doubt that.”

“I got angry with him and he stormed away. Even Silus has been impatient with me. And as for Damon …” She took a shuddering breath. “I don’t think I belong here. I don’t seem to belong anywhere.”

Carmella ceased her brushing, took Lilitha’s shoulders and bade her shuffle around until they faced each other. Carmella took her chin, sweeping her dark eyes over her face. Lilitha couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty. She had such strength. In the glint in her eye, in the sure curve of her lip, her firm jaw, her poise. Lilitha had none of it. She was all softness and weakness and uncertainty. What she wouldn’t give to be the same.

Carmella smiled and shook her head. “You’re so young. How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

She released her chin. “Oh, Lilitha, I would not worry. Nothing is as bad as it seems to you now. Truly, it’s not. Give yourself another dozen years and look back and laugh. I have had countless fights with Damon and Mateus. Silus, less so, but still—” her grin broadened, and she took Lilitha’s hand “—they always get over it.”

“I hope so.” But she wasn’t convinced.