Beyond the Red (34 page)

If I’m Asha’s son, then all along, everyone back at camp was right—I’m one of
them.

My fingers are clenching my hair and I can barely breathe and they’re both staring at me like I’ve lost my mind and I’m going to lose it. I’m going to fucken
lose
it if I don’t get out of this blazing port
now.

I throw the door open and Kora screams and Serek pounds on the privacy barrier behind them and the port slows to a stop and I’m on my knees, in the sand, with the heat of the suns on my back.

Breathe.

My heart is pounding out of control.

Breathe.

The world is spinning around me and my fingers are digging into the sand and I need to get myself together. I need to take a deep breath and slow down and think.

What would Esta and Nol think? Did they know? Would they even be surprised? But they wouldn’t keep something like this from me, would they?

I have to believe that if this is true, they didn’t know. Because the alternative means even after I came of age, they kept this life altering secret from me. They kept a truth that could
kill
me to themselves.

Then again, maybe that’s exactly why they wouldn’t say anything at all.

Soft fingers touch my back and I’m back in the dungeon with frigid water slamming over my skin. I jump up and take a long step away from her. Spin back, heaving in air, my fists shaking at my sides.

“
Don’t
touch me,” I hiss. “Don’t you
ever
touch me again.”

Kora’s eyes widen for just a breath, just long enough for me to see before she plasters on that nothing-fazes-me face. She nods. Gestures to the port. “Let’s sit down and talk this through.”

Sit down and talk this through. Right. Like this is a problem you can wash away with fancy words and batted eyelashes.

“If what you’re saying is true, I’ll be dead the moment I step into the capital.”

Kora bites her lip. “Not if he doesn’t know who you are.”

“Roma will know the moment he sees him.” Serek steps onto the sand. He looks at me again, but this time his eyes are soft. Almost sad. “You look like Asha.”

I scowl. “You didn’t think so twenty minutes ago.”

“I didn’t know Asha as well as Roma did—I was very young when he was killed. And I wasn’t looking for the similarities. But your eyes, the way you hold yourself, even the set of your jaw right now mirrors him entirely. Roma will know.”

But Kora’s shaking her head. “He won’t as long as Eros doesn’t dissolve the nanites and no one says anything. You said it yourself—Roma won’t be looking for similarities.”

Serek stares at me for a long mo, then nods and turns to Kora. “He will need to be genetically matched before we can be certain. I will administer the test myself, so we can keep this between us. And until then …” He sighs and glances back at me. “Until then you are Kora’s servant. And nothing more.”

After riding in silence for hours, Eros eventually falls asleep with his cheek pressed against the glass window. I try to get some rest—my body is certainly exhausted enough—but nervousness claws through my stomach and keeps my mind awake. So I sit in silence, staring out the window instead.

Serek’s gaze wanders over to me several times. His presence is always there—a warmth against my side, the occasional touch of his fingers on my hand. And I want more than anything to hold his hand and feel the same affection and careful excitement I felt on the ballroom floor so many nights ago. But instead his touch turns my stomach and stabs my heart with sharp heat. Because when I close my eyes, when I try to remember what we had that night, the echo of Eros’s lips are on mine instead. His hands igniting my body, his taste filling me with heady sensations.

And I am ashamed.

I don’t know what I was thinking when I kissed him
—naï,
I wasn’t thinking at all. I was reacting, releasing an emotion I didn’t realize I’d buried. Doing exactly what I wanted at that moment, even though I can’t fathom why I wanted it in the first place. I’d never looked at Eros romantically in the past, at least, not seriously—why now?

And why do I want his hand—not Serek’s—in mine?

Don’t you
ever
touch me again.
His words are a burning ache behind my lungs, a frozen emptiness stealing the glow from my cells. And I can’t even be angry at him for his hurtful words, because I hurt him first.

“If he is truly Asha’s son, we may face a serious problem,” Serek whispers, so as to not wake Eros. His words pull me out of my thoughts as his fingers gently squeeze my hand. I push the painful memory of Eros’s anger away as I face Serek.

“It’s only a problem if you alert your brother,” I say. “If Roma doesn’t know, we have nothing to worry about.”

But Serek shakes his head. “It’s not a matter of Roma knowing, it’s a matter of inheritance. As Asha’s son, Eros would have right to the throne—not Roma. And my brother will not give up his place so easily.”

Serek is looking at me, but my gaze drifts to Eros. He seems younger as he rests—cycles of hardship, abuse, and more recent trauma wiped clean from his face. He seems softer, like his skin is smoother, like his embrace would be perfect.

Like his lips would be clouds on my skin.

I take a breath and close my eyes—I need to focus. I can’t allow myself to be so distracted every time I look at Eros. I open my eyes and turn to Serek. “I don’t think he’ll want the throne. He doesn’t relish attention.”

“Regardless of whether he would want it, his birthright would demand it. Denying him his inheritance would dishonor Asha’s memory.”

“You truly think he could ever take the throne? The people would never accept him—not in his court and not in the public eye.”
Kala
knows that’s not an experience I would wish on anyone. I catch myself watching him again and look away. “He may deserve the honor, but you know as well as I do that a coup wouldn’t go over smoothly.”

“I know.” Serek sighs and runs his hands down his face. “
Kala
knows what my brother was thinking. Taking a redblood as a lover is controversial enough, but fathering a child with one? And a son, no less?”

“Is it possible he intended to announce Eros’s birth himself? Even take them to the capital?”

“If he passed down the ring, as it seems he has, I’d imagine that was his plan. But as he never reached the capital, I doubt we will ever know.”

Serek’s hand slides over my palm again, and his fingers interlace with mine. He sighs and offers me a tight smile. “To be truthful, I’m still praying this is a misunderstanding and he’s not who we suspect he is.” He runs his thumb back and forth over the back of my hand, and my gut twists with guilt again. “For now, I think it best we pretend he’s your personal servant. It will take some convincing because of his obvious half-blood heritage, but I should be able to convince Roma to overlook it.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He nods, then takes a breath. “There is another matter we must speak about.”

I already know what it is, but I nod anyway. “Go on.”

He leans forward, takes both of my hands in his, and kisses my knuckles. My heart catches in my throat and I pray he doesn’t notice my skin going cold. After planting another kiss on my wrist, he looks up at me. “I proposed a contract to you once. Much has happened since then, but my offer still stands. I don’t believe that you harmed me intentionally, and I will fight any and all accusations that state otherwise.”

The memory of Eros’s fingers flutters through my hair when I whisper, “I know.”

“I hate to pressure you into making a decision, but I must know where we stand when I bring you before my brother. He will have heard about the attempt on my life and, if I arrive with you, he may assume it is to assist in your execution.” He pauses. “I’m not sure how well I will be able to defend you without an established relationship between us.”

The echo of Eros’s lips is on my lips, on my neck, on my jaw. His scent surrounds me, and his touch—the cabin is sweltering and my stomach roils with nauseating waves. “You still want me to marry you?”

He nods. “As your betrothed, I will be in a better position to protect you.”

His lips, his hands, his taste.
Kala
, what have I done?

Serek’s gaze pierces mine. “If you accept, Kora, I promise to be a good mate to you. I will protect you and care for you until the end of my time, this I swear.”

His sincerity rolls off him, attacking me with a truth I can no longer deny: Serek loves me. He may even be falling
in
love with me.

“Why?” I whisper. He frowns, not understanding, and I bite my lip. “Why do you want to be my mate?”

He sighs. “Do you remember that night in the garden? The night I first asked you to be my betrothed?”

“Always,” I breathe.

“I asked you why you didn’t give the throne to your brother, if that’s what your people wanted, and you said it was to protect them from what they believed they sought. Instead of stepping down, which would have been the easier choice, you dealt with their disdain and disrespect to protect the very people who didn’t accept you.” He touches my chin and smiles. “I realized in that moment, Kora, that your spirit is just as beautiful as your exterior, and I knew I’d be lucky to have you.”

My eyes sting. Tears blur my vision and I pull my hand out of his grasp to wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I was going to accept that night. Before … I’m so sorry—” My voice cracks—I can’t continue. Serek pulls me against him and I can’t contain the pent-up tears any longer. He caresses my hair; his embrace is strong and gentle and warm, but despite his best intentions, it makes me feel worse.

Because even now, as I breathe in his smooth, clean scent and his heart beats against my ear, I think of Eros. I’ll never be able to undo that kiss. I’ll never be able to forget the explosion of emotion and want that I unleashed.

But I can’t have Eros. I can never have Eros—he’s a slave, a
half-blood
slave, and I need to accept Serek for everyone’s sake. Because not only would it give Serek more grounds to defend me, but a marriage would distract Roma from Eros, and I will do everything in my power to keep him safe.

So I accept.

I do eventually fall asleep, and I wake to someone gently nudging my shoulder. I open my mouth to tell Eros to leave me alone and let me sleep, but—
naï
, I’m not in my bed. This isn’t Vejla. I open my eyes, blinking away the grogginess.

Serek smiles at me and nods to the window. “Look.”

I yawn, turn my gaze outside, and sit up.

The world is white. Or at least, the ground is, all traces of red desert lost somewhere behind us. Tall trees with long golden leaves and purple flowers the size of my head tower over us, lining the packed white road. The buildings here are large, beautiful homes made of white stone that sparkles with color under the light of the suns, with slightly peaked roofs of blues and purples. In the distance, the famous mountains of Ona, Denae D’Aravel, reach into the sky, and although I can’t see it from here, the sacred city of Shura Kan lies somewhere in their midst—the city where all retired
Avrae
and
Sirae
go to live.

Mirror-like hovercraft race through the sky above us, and people mill about in the streets as we move slowly through the crowd. Children smile and point, and men nod respectfully to the caravan as dozens of reflective orb-guides zip through the air and bob around the ports, trying to get the best viewing angle for recording.

Everything is newer here—the whole city is brimming with the most up-to-date technology in all of Safara, from the orb-guides several models newer than the ones we have in Vejla, to the hovercraft, which are a rarity in Elja, to Serek’s impressively updated transport—down to the embedded digital display in the windows—and countless other luxuries I’ve yet to see.

We pass through the city and the road begins to climb. That’s when I see it—the Palace of
Sirae
, sitting majestically at the top of a natural overlook. The walls shimmer and reflect the suns’ rays in bursts of color, giving the entire complex the appearance of semi-transparency, as if it isn’t actually there. Like a desert mirage. Tall spires tower high into the sky and elaborate fountains dot the complex.