Tissaia hadn't stayed downstairs very long after Azael and her brother returned. They had delivered news of their finding, a short blood trail that was several days old, then announced that they would be moving on come morning. As this would be her last night with access to a bathtub and an actual bed for a while, Tissaia decided to make the most of it.

    She'd left Talarion and Kaius still working on their few departure preparations, and felt Azael's gaze tracking her to the stairs, but the male hadn't spoken to her. He hadn't spoken to her since their first night here, and although he wasn't acting like he was angry or upset, she had the sense that she'd done something wrong. But what, she didn't know.

    Tissaia gave a small sigh and leaned her head back against the lip of the deep copper tub she was submerged in. Water lapped at her collarbone and hair floated around her, already thoroughly drenched and scrubbed. Honestly, she'd been soaking here long enough for her fingers and toes to wrinkle. It was long past time she should've gotten out, yet she had no desire to give up this simple luxury.

    But presently, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten much for dinner tonight, and she ought to do so before going to bed. Tissaia stood and snatched an old, yet still soft towel and dried herself rapidly. She set the towel aside and went to grab her clothes, but paused, catching sight of herself in the full length mirror across from the bathtub.

    Her mouth ran dry at the sight of the marks on the backs of her thighs, and the few on her back that were long enough to stretch onto her waist. Her hair covered the rest of them, the exact reason she kept it so long, and why Talarion did too. They couldn't stand to see the scars on themselves or each other.

    Yet several times, Tissaia had tried to force herself to look at them. By covering them, it was like she was trying to ignore that they existed. She was hiding from them, and hiding the only proof she had of what her father was really like. Not that anyone would believe they had been caused by him.

    She swallowed hard, then turned and slowly drew her hair over one shoulder. Tissaia looked again, heart hammering against her sternum. She couldn't stop her jaw from trembling or the terrible stinging that welled up behind her eyelashes.

    Layers upon layers of faded, but no less terrible scars, carved by the tongues of a whip. They had been even worse years before she learned to fade scars with her healing magic. Then she'd done the best to hers that she could, but there would never be any removing them.

    The ones towards her upper back had healed the best. They were barely tangible on their own, not rigid or dark in color. They were smooth and pale, more likely to pass as an odd birthmark than scars. It was the ones towards her lower back that remained harsh and deep. The easiest to hide, and the hardest to see.

    Perhaps one small blessing had come from her never marrying Azael. He didn't know about the scars, and she would never have to let him see them.

    She pried her gaze from the mirror and tugged her clothes on, sucking down several rapid breaths to replenish the ones she'd held unknowingly. Tissaia left her hair unbound and ducked out of her room as soon as she was ready. She breezed down the hall on bare feet and floated noiselessly down the stairs.

    The main floor of the house was empty and she realized with relief that the males had gone to bed. Tissaia turned into the kitchen and began rooting through the pantry for anything appealing. She was about to settle for making herself a rather unappetizing sandwich, when she saw it. Towards the back of the shelves, preserved under a glass dome, was a cake.

    Her eyes widened and she snatched it up, praying to the gods that it would still be edible. She seated herself at the table and lifted the cover, breathing the scent deeply. Her mouth watered as she recognized the citrusy scent of lemon, her favorite. Tissaia cocked her head and poked the cake. The spongy texture dented under her finger, still soft.

    "If this makes me sick, it will be well worth it," she announced to herself, and grabbed a fork.

    She dug into the cake without a second thought and could have wept at the sweet taste of it. It had been ages since she had anything like this. There had been cakes, pastries, and other delicacies at the ball of course, but not lemon.

    The last time she could recall having lemon cake was for her and Talarion's birthday several months ago. Her brother had stayed up all night making it for her in secret with some help from one of the family cooks. It certainly hadn't turned out to be a beautiful cake, but it had tasted almost as good as this.

    Tissaia shoveled another bite into her mouth with a contented groan, then stiffened as a floorboard creaked behind her. She whirled around, her mouth still full. Azael tilted his head with a bemused grin on his lips. "You look a bit like a squirrel right now with your cheeks all puffed out like that."

    She frowned around her mouthful, then hurriedly chewed and swallowed it. "What are you doing here? Are you actually going to talk to me now?" His grin lessened but he didn't leave. Instead, he opened a drawer and grabbed another fork before joining her. "That's my cake." Azael only rolled his eyes and took a bite. She didn't stop him, but watched for his reaction to the taste.

    "Lemon," he noted a moment later.

    "Do you like lemon?" She couldn't help but ask.

    "Yes, and I assume you do too."

    "It's my favorite."

    "I can see that." He set his fork down and watched her take a few more bites. Tissaia ignored it until his staring began to unnerve her.

    "You haven't answered my questions," she snapped.

    "And I'm not going to." She scowled at once and another smile twitched across his lips. "Trust me. I think I'll just make you mad if I try to explain." His gaze fell to the table. "Talarion told me some things while we were in the forest."

    Her heart stumbled over itself before she could catch it. "What things?"

    "About his training...and your father."

    She relaxed slightly. "And does that suddenly make you remorseful for how you've been treating me? I don't need your sympathy, or want it. Talarion and I can take care of ourselves. We always have."

    His gaze met hers, moonlight reflecting from its icy blue depths. A torrent of emotions clashed within it. His mouth opened, but before he could speak, a bloodcurdling scream came from the floor above them. They both lurched to their feet.

    "Kaius," Tissaia realized as Azael's gaze found hers once more. She sprinted from the room, not waiting to see if he would follow.

•༻☽☾༺•

    Azael pounded up the stairs, only a few feet behind Tissaia. The screams hadn't stopped. They were only growing louder, and as they reached the second floor, Talarion's joined it. "Azael! Tissaia! Get the Hel in here!"

    "We're here," Tissaia gasped, twisting in the room Azael had been avoiding, but he didn't hesitate to follow her in.

    Kaius was half-hanging off the bed, his eyes again full of radiant light. Talarion had pinned his legs down with his own and was holding his arms behind his back as the male thrashed against him, his mouth still locked open in a scream. "Gods, there has to be something that triggers these," Azael shouted over the male's voice.

    "Theorize later," Talarion spat. "We have to try to wake him before he hurts himself." His gaze dipped to Kaius's hands and the crimson sparks that had begun to shimmer at his palms. "Or me," he added.

    "We need to move him," Tissaia ordered. "All that blood rushing to his head isn't going to help."

    Azael took his cue and joined them. "I'll move his legs. You keep hold of his arms," he told Talarion.

    He drew closer, then froze as Kaius convulsed, managing to throw Talarion off balance. He wrenched his arms free of Talarion's loosened hold and his knees curled towards his chest as fear flooded his features.

    "They're coming!" Kaius screeched. His hands flew towards his face and he raked his nails down his cheeks. "They're coming, they're coming... Get them off me! Someone, please..." The words broke off in another violent scream as another spasm shot through his body.

    Azael launched himself at the male, shoving him back onto the bed and pinning him by his shoulders. Kaius's hands snatched onto his arms and power pulsed from his palms. Heat blazed from the male's grip and Azael let out a sharp breath as his flesh began to burn.

    He tightened his hands on Kaius's shoulders, keeping him held down while the male wedged his knee up and jammed it into his gut. Before he could move it again, Azael had it stuck beneath his own knee and let his weight fall onto it.

    Tissaia flew to the male's head and caught his face between her hands. Kaius jerked at her touch but she didn't let go. Soft amethyst light filtered around her fingers and she stroked her thumbs across his cheekbones, feeding her magic into him. But Kaius only continued to writhe.

    "There's still nothing," Tissaia said. "I can't wake him." Azael glanced at her as she gave Talarion a pointed look.

    "Please," Kaius sobbed again.

    "Get off him," Talarion commanded. Azael gawked at the male, but found his gaze fixed on Kaius. "Get off him!" He repeated, harsher this time.

    Against his better judgement, Azael released Kaius's shoulders and slid off of him. As if sensing his retreat, the male let go of his arms. He heard Tissaia gasp and guessed she'd seen the scorched rings on his skin, but he didn't look at her.

    Kaius twisted onto his side and curled into himself again, his whole body shaking and sweat dripping from his forehead. His fingers dug into his hair and his jaw clenched, muffling his screams into unintelligible sounds. Azael barely flinched when Talarion moved across the bed and pushed him aside to stand over Kaius.

    He grabbed the male's left arm and shoved the braided band of hair upon it under his nose. Kaius's twitching continued for a moment before his body went slack. Azael held his breath. Talarion released him and took a step back. Tissaia rested a hand on her brother's shoulder, watching Kaius with wide eyes.

    The light in his eyes lessened, leaving them a familiar hazel. Kaius blinked, his shoulders moving with another breath of the scent that clung to his bracelet. Then he bolted upright, his head whipping back and forth as though he were searching for something. "They're coming," he panted. "They're coming!"

    "Kai, Darling, calm down," Tissaia soothed, letting go of Talarion to reach for him.

    Kaius's fearful eyes grew larger and he scrambled away, lifting a crimson etched hand once more. But before he could do anything, Tissaia snatched the male by the shoulder and dragged him into a crushing embrace, fast enough to capture his hands between their bodies.

    "Don't you dare. I'll never forgive you if you mess up my face. I don't care if you're hallucinating or not."

    Kaius's breaths shuddered out of him, audible and still sounding closer to sobs than anything, but he didn't fight against her hold. Talarion inched closer and laid a shaking hand on the back of Kaius's head, then let it drift to his cheek. Azael peered at Kaius again, his words echoing through his ears. What could possibly be coming that would frighten him like this?

    "Fuck!" He swore as the realization hit him. "Blood Fae. He must've seen Blood Fae." Azael spun on his heel and dashed out the door.

    If Kaius had seen the creatures, perhaps that meant they were getting close, and he and Talarion had just left a fresh scent trail for them to follow. He had no idea if Blood Fae were able to enter these villages, but regardless, if they arrived and found their scents pooling around the area, they might lie in wait for them to emerge.

    He had to lay a new scent trail to lead them away. He reached the main floor and ran out of the house, barely letting himself clear the doorway before he spoke the words that would carry him out of the pocket realm.