The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,39

That Rafe had been in the right place at the right time. That others had sacrificed their lives to save his. That he had managed to scrape by unscathed while all witnesses perished. That he had woken up with little memory of the event and the hours that followed.

Xander didn’t need to read their minds to know what all of them were thinking. He remembered how they’d once demanded his brother’s head. How they’d fought to destroy the bastard, the blight. He remembered the cries across the courtyard.

Fire cursed.

That’s what they called Rafe under their breath, behind his back—a son of Vesevios, a son of flames, a bad omen, a curse born from the fire god’s own lips. He had to remind them that Rafe was one of them, a raven, his brother and their kin. He was needed by their people.

“Thank Taetanos you survived,” Xander said, his voice strong with authority—the voice of their future king. “I don’t know what we would have done without you. Are you well enough for the trials? After some food and some rest? Can you compete?”

The annoyance on Rafe’s face gave way to gratitude as soon as he realized what Xander was doing. “I think I can.”

Xander stood, shaking his feathers as he reached for Rafe’s hand and pulled his brother to his feet. Their palms remained clasped as he asked, “Can you restore the favor of the gods to the House of Whispers? Can you win us a mate worthy of our home?”

Rafe lifted his other palm and placed it over their joined hands. Xander wasn’t sure if his brother meant for the move to be a reminder that only one of them had the use of two hands—hands that would be essential to compete in the tests of the next few days. If he did, Xander was sure he meant it for the soldiers, whose bodies lost their stiffness as they watched the scene. He was sure Rafe hadn’t meant for the gesture to sting, but he couldn’t stop a little pang from echoing across the hollow cracks in his heart—cracks that acted as reminders that he couldn’t be all he needed to be for his people.

“I will,” Rafe murmured earnestly.

Those words, Xander knew, were meant for him. Not as a show for the crowd, but as a promise between brothers. “Then let’s go.”

If the soldiers wanted to say more, they held their tongues.

If Helen did, Xander was sure he would hear it soon enough.

For now, they were satisfied. Rafe was alive, which meant the courtship trials would go on, and every other worry was secondary. Maybe when they returned home, the questions would bubble back to the surface, but he doubted it. His brother’s performance was going to earn them a queen. Xander would have bet his life on that fact—in a way, he was betting his life on that fact. And in the face of such a victory, his people would forget this had ever happened. The dragon would be a thing of the past to a house yearning for nothing more than a brighter future.

But Xander wanted the truth.

Because for the first time in his life, he got the sense that Rafe had been lying to him, too. Not when he’d been spinning his story, but there in the channel, when he feigned a weakness that miraculously vanished during the long flight back to Sphaira as he kept pace with the group. There’d been a secret churning in his eyes, a closed door Xander could tell his brother had no intention of opening.

Yet Rafe’s stubbornness had never stopped him before.

When they got back to the guest quarters, Xander followed his brother through halls he didn't know, smiling more and more the longer Rafe obstinately refused to turn around or ask for help.

“Not now, Xander,” Rafe grunted.

“If you’re trying to find your room,” Xander said lightly, “it’s one floor up and about three doors to your left.”

Rafe paused, shoulders drooping, but still didn’t turn around.

“If you’d like, I can look away first so you don’t have to meet my eyes. That way, you can continue to skulk for some unknown reason as you follow me to your door.”

Rafe released a sound between a sigh, a groan, and a laugh. Then he finally spun, offering Xander a pointed glare. “Fine. Show me the way.”

The corner of Xander’s lips twitched as he tried to hide his amusement. But he knew when to press his brother and when not to. Instead of