In the Wake of the Wicked (The Veridian Empire, #1)

by V.B. Lacey

I caught sight of the tattoo I’d seen the first time we were in this cottage together. I brushed my fingers against the black ink on his forearm, noting the way goosebumps rose in response. It was a beautiful drawing of an animal face: half of it was a fox, and the other half looked to be a wolf. Delicate vines swirled around it and down his arm all the way to the top of his hand. Leaves and henbane flowers sprouted from the stem.

I squeezed my eyes shut before any tears could form and fall. I felt Leo raise my hand, felt the soft press of his lips into my knuckles. I wasn’t used to such an outward display of affection, especially from someone like him—someone who had seemed so impassive in the beginning, all hard lines and ruthless stoicism. I liked him this way. Gentle and soft. Lending strength instead of merely possessing it.

The bed shifted and Leo rested a hand on my waist. “Come here,” he murmured. One of his arms slid under me while the other wrapped around my back, and I rested my head on his chest as he pulled me in. My top leg instantly tangled between his, his warmth and solidness cocooning me in a way that felt both familiar and completely new at the same time.

The room grew cold and silent, something sour tarnishing our space of solace. I was an idiot. Why did I do this to myself? Did I feel him sinking beneath my skin and get scared? I was so accustomed to people rejecting me that I’d begun to force them into it. It was like I subconsciously tested how far they were willing to go before I said something to push them back. To make them walk away. I didn’t want to be the one to watch him walk away, though.

“I didn’t say I wanted you to leave, Rose.” “But you’re angry,” I insisted. He gave me an incredulous look. “You assume I’m angry. I just…I don’t know how to navigate this. I’m confused and tired, not angry. Even if I was, that doesn’t mean I want you to leave. Is that what people have done to you your whole life?” I glanced away, but he caressed my cheek, urging me to look up at him. “Made you think your only option was to retreat?” “I—I don’t know,” I stammered. “I guess…it’s easier.” Swallowing, I toyed with the ends of my shirt. “Easier than facing their anger or judgment.”

His words settled into me, and the compulsion I’d felt to run slowly dimmed. I was so used to avoiding conflict, so used to assuming people wanted nothing to do with me, that the idea of him trying to talk through things and come to an understanding together… It was more intimate than any touch. I didn’t have to run. I didn’t have to hide myself behind masks of indifference or sharp edges. I could be free. And for the first time, I realized that’s all I’d wanted all along.

My heart pounded in my ears, a tingle spreading over me at our nearness. Without thinking, without knowing what I was doing, I lifted my face slightly so my nose brushed his. A test. A question. But not a game. Not anymore. His hand splayed on my lower back, drawing me in. He kissed the tear lingering on my cheek, then moved his lips down and along my jaw. My breath caught. “What are we doing, Leo?” I repeated my earlier question, voice shaking. This time, his response held no humor. “I don’t know.” We stayed like that, his lips a whisper from mine, neither of us moving besides our chests rising and falling in time to heavy breaths.

I nodded slowly in agreement and licked my lips, the motion causing my tongue to graze against the side of his mouth. He let out a small groan, and I smiled. “Back to sleep, monkey boy,” I said, breaking away. His smoldering glare made my stomach flip. Perhaps we could still play some games, after all.

I stretched my legs, wrinkling my nose at an unfamiliar sensation rubbing against them. Lifting the sheets, I grinned when I saw a long, dark brown tail wrapped around my calf.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I teased, turning to face him. His hair was even more disheveled, and a little annoyed crease appeared on his brow as he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. It was surprisingly adorable. “I was comfortable,” he grumbled, burying his face into the pillow and tucking me closer to him. I laughed. Morning Leo was so grumpy. And affectionate. I couldn’t resist—I brushed my hand through his hair, relishing the last few moments in this strange but peaceful bubble we’d created before real life burst through.

My words faded as Leo pulled off the shirt he’d slept in and grabbed a new one, arms flexing when he shrugged it on and began buttoning it. The broad plane of his chest stared back at me, a dusting of dark hair spreading down past my line of sight. I remembered pressing my hand against it during the night, and knew exactly how hard those corded muscles felt beneath my skin. Like steel and⁠— “Eyes up here, little wolf.”

He nodded. “I won’t ask again. But you’ll tell me if⁠—” “Yes,” I said in fake exasperation. “You know, you’re worse than my aunt.” “Well, what are friends for?” he said with a wolfish smile, stepping closer to me. A knock sounded on the door. “Emperor’s tits, what are you two doing in there?” Rissa called. “Never mind, don’t answer that. I have breakfast ready if you’re hungry.” She paused, then banged on the door again. “For food.” Leo’s jaw flexed, and I stifled a laugh. “I think I like your sister.” “Fates save us all,” he muttered.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging my head up with his finger. “It’s just breakfast.” He was looking at me like he had last night—walls down, sincerity and compassion and a hint of desire shining through. My resolve crumbled bit by bit. “Okay. Just breakfast.”

I tried to smile, but it fell flat. “What are we supposed to do now?” I finally asked. “The idea of facing everyone and having this trial paraded around as a success story, then competing in a third in just a few weeks…” I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do it.” “Are you kidding me?” He stood. “Don’t let them make you believe you’re not strong enough for this. You’re a viper, darling. They are the ones who should fear you.” I scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say, the fearsome Shifter from Drakorum.” “And you,” he said, offering me a hand, “Are the fearsome Alchemist from Feywood. Don’t doubt yourself. Do you know why I called you a viper that first day?” I shook my head, taking his hand and meeting his glittering eyes. “Because I’ve seen what you’re capable of when provoked. You strike.”

I, however, felt only frustration. That they would use this time in honor of her memory as a spectacle for the tournament. Did these guests, these outsiders, think of us as real people? Or were we simply entertainment for them, beings to cheer for or against in this power play of the empire? Even this memorial served a double purpose. Heightened drama for the following rankings. Higher stakes for the remaining challengers. This entire evening would be on display for others to read by morning.

“The type of magic doesn’t necessarily matter. It can all be dangerous. It depends on the wielder, you see.”

“People get carried away and lose themselves, taking their magic too far or stealing power that is not theirs to wield,” Theodore explained. “That is where the danger lies. Harming others, using force or violence, destroying nature. But”—he pulled the glove from his left hand finger by finger, then grabbed a letter opener from his desk—“when given willingly…it is magic unlike anything you have seen.” My eyes widened at his exposed hand, which was riddled with dozens of thin, white scars.

Was it truly possible? To practice Alchemy with nothing but our blood? No more bags and pouches, no more relying on what herbs were in my pocket or if I would have enough time to arm myself before it was too late. No more sickly taste of dried leaves on my tongue or fear of running out of charms. No more tricks. No more weaker magic. What was wrong with that? Theodore was right—as long as one didn’t go too far, as long as they didn’t mess with the balance of nature, this was no different than what Rissa did when she shifted, or Lark when she wielded her shadows.

My body erupted and flooded with power. While casting normally felt like a tightening in my chest, this felt like liberation. I was weightless yet full of strength at the same time, my magic vibrating and flowing within me, blending into my essence until I couldn’t separate it from my very being. It was as if I had never truly breathed until this moment.

“I did it,” I breathed. “And how do you feel?” he asked,

I glanced around the chamber again, taking in the light, reveling in the power still racing through me. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and a smile curved the ends of my lips. This was what it was supposed to be. Nothing separating me from my magic, nothing holding me back from what I was meant for. Alchemy in its purest, most natural form.

“Free,” I finally said, locking eyes with him once more. “I feel free.”

“Can I show you something?” he asked. I nodded, and he led me to a tall book stand in the corner of the room.

Theodore carefully set his hand on the open page. “This was your father’s Grimoire, Rose.”

“But I already have his Grimoire back home. My aunt and uncle gave it to me when I turned sixteen.”

“That must be one he created after he and I parted ways. This”—he gestured to the book—“was his first. It contains his notes on blood magic and the spells and potions we crafted. And it’s exceptionally detailed,” he added with a hint of a smile. “...

“Treat it well,” he said, placing it in my open arms. A rush of emotion flooded me as I stared at the cover. The heaviness of the leather tome sat in my heart like a weight, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t burdensome. It filled me. My chest expanded as I drew a deep breath, something settling inside. Another missing piece finding its way home.

I leaned against a tree trunk and crossed one ankle over the other, my tail twitching anxiously against the forest floor. Staring up at the third story window of the palace, I chided myself for the fifth time. I was being ridiculous waiting out here so late at night. Chaz had called me a stalker.

Rose said she felt as if something was wrong with her. That nobody wanted to get close. Ever since then, I’d imagined her alone up there in her empty room, facing the aftermath of the second trial and all that had happened to her thus far with nobody by her side. She didn’t have to be alone, though. Not anymore.

I summoned my Shifter half, and my senses were immediately overwhelmed by the increased scents and sounds as I adjusted to the environment. I could smell her, even down here. The way the lavender and sage wrapped around me and beckoned me to her should have frightened me. It should have made me turn away and retreat to my cottage, never to look back again.

This life I lived…it wasn’t conducive to whatever might be happening between us. Constant secrecy and violence, looking over our shoulders at every turn, Sentinel meetings and patrols and missions and scheming. I didn’t need something else to focus on, not when change was coming. Not when danger lurked around the corner. If things went poorly, we could be on the verge of a civil war. But none of that seemed to matter when it came to her.

Sliding a finger under her chin, I let my teasing grin fall and gently angled her to face me again. “But I promise, you can always talk to me if you need someone. I know how hard it is to make friends when you’re constantly on guard, when there’s always an agenda.” “Always waiting for the other shoe to fall,” she added, eyes wavering to my lips. “Worried people only want you for what you can give them. Or that anything good will eventually come to an end.” “Something like that,” I murmured. I was unable to look away, unable to pull myself out of this hold she had on me. My pulse raced when she bit her lip, dragging her eyes back to mine. “I’m glad you came,” she admitted.

“I saw you reading whatever that is through the curtain,” I confessed, motioning to the concealed book. She straightened, and I hastily added, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry. I caught a glimpse right before I knocked. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” I craved her trust, but it wasn’t something I could force her to give me.

“What happened there?” I asked, pointing to her hand. She shifted her arm so her hand was hidden beneath the sheets. “Nothing. Just a cut.” I stifled a frustrated growl. It felt like I had taken two steps forward and one step back with her. Something had changed between us the other night, and I believed she was finally opening up to me. Finally trusting me. If she would simply let me in, she would see that she didn’t have to bear all of this alone. She didn’t have to hide anytime she felt threatened or someone tried to get close.

Even if I hadn’t completely broken through her walls, maybe I’d removed a piece of them. If I had to tear them down brick by brick, I would. Everyone deserved to have someone see them, to fight for them the way Lark had for my sister and me. Rose should know she was worth it.

“Are you calling me boring, Miss Wolff?” I stalked to the bed, hiding my smirk behind a pretend scowl. “Oh, I would never. You just seem like someone who doesn’t stray far from convention. A proper Alchemist,” she said, putting air quotes around the term. “For Fates sake, I have a tail, Rose,” I said with a laugh. “What about that screams ‘proper’ to you?”

Looking down to the edge of my cloak, she suddenly bore a bashful expression. My smirk widened. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me, I’ve heard it all.” A blush crept up her cheeks. “Can—can I touch it?” A rare grin split my face. She was adorable. Slipping it from beneath my cloak, I unfurled my tail on her bed, the blanket soft and supple beneath its weight. She reached out a hand and felt along its length. I shivered involuntarily, unused to the feel of someone else’s skin against it. Flinching, she snatched her fingers back, glancing at me warily. “It’s fine, it’s just…sensitive,” I said. A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “What else can you do with it?”

This was the first time I’d felt even remotely safe sharing the truth with someone. The fear of judgment or condemnation didn’t exist with her. I knew she would accept me no matter what skeletons lay in my closet, and that in and of itself was a form of freedom.

She let out a disbelieving laugh. “I can’t believe you actually did it. That it’s even possible. For a spell to be able to do something like that…it’s extraordinary.” I pulled myself into a sitting position to face her. “It’s dangerous, Rose. We shouldn’t have power like that. It’s not natural, and something that strong…it always has consequences. A price to be paid.

Reaching out, I grabbed his hand and pulled him close, until his knees touched mine and I had to crane my neck to see his face. “I know how that kind of guilt changes you,” I said. “I don’t think it was your fault, but you do, and that’s shaped your entire life.” I suddenly realized how similar this conversation was to the same one we’d had about Branock and my father. “Just…don’t let it convince you that you’re not an incredible man. We all make mistakes, and what you did, the love you had for your sister to be willing to go to the ends of the earth for her…” I shook my head. “I would give anything to have someone care for me that much. She’s lucky to have you.”

He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I tugged on his arm to make him sit on the bed beside me. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I leaned my head on his shoulder. Perhaps I was turning into a hugger, after all. A moment later, he rested his chin on top of my head. His hand found mine in my lap and he twisted our fingers together. I stared at the sight in silence, wondering when this had happened. When we’d begun to find comfort in each other’s presence, where even a simple touch could calm our thoughts.

It was getting late, and it was dangerous for him to be in the palace, but the idea of him leaving made my stomach sink. “Do you have to go?” I whispered, staring at the window. He shifted at my side, bringing my attention back to him. His thumb drew a circle on my hand. “Not if you don’t want me to.” “You’re a rebel sneaking into the palace illegally, remember?” I said, biting my bottom lip, His eyes flicked down before meeting mine again. “You could get in trouble if you’re caught.” “Then I won’t get caught. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay.” I stared back at him, inches from his face, those dark eyes drowning me whole. “I want you to stay.”

His forehead fell to mine as his hand gripped my waist. “What are you doing to me?” he murmured.

We were both emotional. We’d both been through so much trauma, reliving these moments from our past that left us damaged. Was that what this was? Two people trying to deal with their brokenness? Because I’d never felt this before. I’d never had someone be this raw with me, someone I could share my de...

With others, I pulled the strings. I hid behind a curtain and watched everything unfold. But Leo…he yanked that curtain away, forcing me into the light. Forcing me to face what I'd normally tuck away. Like what I ...

His nose trailed mine, so close his lashes grazed me when he blinked. Slowly, painfully slowly, his lips brushed against my cheek, the lightest of kisses sending a shiver down my spine and making my breath hitch. He dragged his mouth across my skin until it met the corner of my lips. Without realizing it, I squeezed the hand still intertwined with mine...

Over the sound of running water, I heard Leo tease, “So, you think I’m incredible?” Snorting, I pressed a towel to my face and stuck my head out the door. Seeing him lying in my bed so casually made my stomach flip. “That’s the part you picked up on?” He grinned.

“What, exactly, is so incredible about me?” he continued. I shoved his side. “You’re incredibly full of yourself, for one. And incredibly moody.” He laid back and gazed at me, that lazy, happy smile so at odds with his hard lines and piercing eyes. “And thoughtful,” I conceded, lowering on my side to face him. “Loyal. Handsome. Dedicated and compassionate.” He hummed, and the sound vibrated down my spine. “What was that?” “Dedicated? Compassionate?” “Before those.” His fingers played with my hair on the pillow. I rolled my eyes. “I guess one might find you handsome.” “Really, now?” With a smirk, I batted his hand away. “I take it back. This is all going to your head.” He laughed then propped himself on his elbow to look down at me.

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Goodnight, Rose.” With a deep breath, I whispered back, “Goodnight.”

Knowing he trusted me, that he wanted to let me in on the darkest parts of him, that I was the one he turned to when he needed comfort…it was a desire I never knew I had. Every time I settled into his side and he stroked my hair, our whispered stories and confessions filling the space between us, I felt more at home than I ever had in Feywood.