secrets had she stolen, apart from his? And where was she now?
That last question stopped him short. Rafe thought back to the day he'd seen Lyana in the city crowd. Cassi hadn't been there. It hadn’t struck him as odd until right now, but the two of them were inseparable. Why would the owl have sent the princess down here alone? Why hadn't she followed? Why stay in the world above?
Xander.
The fear was unfounded, he knew. What could the king possibly want with his brother? Xander had no magic. No power that might threaten. No desire to attack anyone. Still, it was as though someone had grabbed hold of Rafe's insides and twisted them in a fiendish grip, refusing to let go. If Cassi wants Xander— If she's trying to hurt him— If she—
"Oh no," Brighty interrupted. "You've got that look. I hate that look."
"What look?" He cut his eyes to her, still fuming.
"That look. That self-righteous, idiotic, sacrifice-it-all-in-the-name-of-love look. The only thing that look ever brings is trouble."
Rafe started, surprised to find his fists clenched against his thighs. Reality came crashing down, leaving him deflated, like a sail without winds, until his arms hung limply by his sides. There's nothing I can do. If Cassi is after Xander, if she does try to hurt him, there's nothing I can do.
The realization left him empty.
All his life, he'd sacrificed himself for his brother, protecting him from foes both real and imagined. And one lapse—one night of passion, no matter how worthwhile—might have undone it all. What if Xander was vulnerable? What if Rafe was gone when his brother needed him most? What if something happened because he wasn't there?
"Magic alive, Rafe, that look is even worse. It's like I just told you your puppy died. If I’d known dreamwalking was going to send you over the edge, I never would've mentioned anything."
"No, it's just—it reminded me of home, of the people I left behind, people who might need me, who might get hurt without me."
She scoffed.
"What?" he snapped, unable to take any more of her attitude when it seemed as if everything he held dear might be caving in around him. If Xander got hurt, he'd never forgive himself. Never.
"Nothing." The word came out far too lightly.
He glowered. "What?"
"Nothing, it’s just—you seem to be worrying an awful lot about people who probably aren’t worrying all that much about you." She said it nonchalantly, as though unaware it would cut him like a knife.
His denial frantically fought to keep the wound from bleeding. "You don't know them."
"I don’t need to. I know you. I see you day after day, your head in the clouds, worried about all the people you left behind. Well, I have one question for you. If they're so worried about you too, where are they? Last I checked, we haven't seen any ravens in the skies, scouring the seas for their lost brother."
"They don't—" He broke off, hating the way her words needled past his defenses, landing with a sting. "It's not that simple."
"Why not?"
"Because it's just not."
"Great argument. You convinced me."
"Brighty!"
"What?"
He glared at her again, unsure how to even begin to explain. It wasn't simple—not by a long shot. Xander was a prince. He couldn't just leave his people to go searching the skies for his bastard brother. Sure, he could have sent a search team, but the ravens wouldn't dare sink beneath the Sea of Mist in an effort to find Rafe. They'd call him dead and be done with it. Not to mention that they'd parted ways in the wake of Rafe's betrayal. Xander thought he'd left of his own accord. His brother probably had no idea he'd been injured.
The situation was complicated.
Yet as he continued to stare into Brighty's opal eyes, a trick of the mind turned them lavender, and suddenly it was his brother sitting before him. All the anger he'd been ignoring came brimming to the surface. Justifiably or not, he was mad at Xander, and he'd been hurt by him. Before the fight with Cassi, back in that royal room that had never felt quite his, Rafe had left—but Xander had let him. And had the roles been reversed, Rafe liked to think he wouldn't have let his brother go so easily. He would have at least demanded answers. He would have tried to find some speck of forgiveness to hold onto. He wouldn't have silently let Xander walk away.
"It's not cowardice to put yourself first, Rafe. You have to