The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,78

only thing he could think of to replace the pain—he slammed his fists into the glass table by his feet, slicing his hands with sharp shards, fighting the mental ache with something physical. Something real.

Rivulets of blood formed on his palms, sliding down the contours of his hands before dripping to the floor. He stared at the red pool, watching the firelight from the lantern flicker on the surface of the liquid, another round of dragon flames that would this time swallow him whole. And he stayed there for a long time, seeing his fate dance across the butchery—long enough for the cuts on his hands to slide seamlessly shut before he retreated to the washstand to clean up the mess.

33

Cassi

She couldn’t quite believe her eyes as the raven cleaned his hands, washing the blood away, revealing unblemished skin.

Cassi didn’t know what exactly had compelled her to stick around so long after Lyana left. At first, it had been curiosity—his cruel words were such an obvious cover to the outside observer, though it seemed they’d hit home with her friend. And then it had been pity, as he knelt in a circle of his own blood, black wings draped against the floor as though to hide him from the world, or maybe to protect him from it. And even then, as the minutes flew by, she remained, bound by some gut instinct she didn’t understand.

Now she knew why.

He’s an invinci, she marveled, spirit hovering over his shoulder as deep red turned to muted pink, then to unmarked cream. His hand had been healed of its injuries.

It was something her king would want to know immediately.

Cassi retreated from the room as the raven began to gather the broken glass, using his hand to sweep it into a pile in the corner, unconcerned as new cuts formed along his palms, healing them just as fast as they appeared. As she seeped through the walls and out into the barren tundra, a different face came to the forefront of her mind. Sandy hair. Stormy eyes. Pallid skin that had never been warmed by the sun, though in her mind she always imagined it should be golden. She sensed his soul immediately, and instead of taking her time, Cassi yanked on the line between them, rushing through air and mist and sky and cloud, her soul shooting like a falling star, tumbling from the world above and plummeting into her life below.

He was stationed in one of the many floating cities—hundreds of boats that were tied together, connected by bridges and flat wooden platforms, some containing houses, some containing trading shops, some just open areas for conversation and a little bit of fun amid so much gray. This late at night, everyone was asleep. Golden orbs of lantern light permeated the mist, bobbing in the waves as the wood around her creaked and groaned. Water splashed over the edges. Every surface was damp and dreary.

Her king’s ship was docked on the edge of the city, twice as tall as any other, painted with bits of gold to bring a little sense of sunshine into a world that did anything but dazzle. He’d left the window open, as always, a sign she was more than welcome inside.

He’d obviously been waiting, because when she put her phantom fingers to his brow and dipped inside his dream, it took hardly more than a thought to warp the chaos and take control of the scene. She painted the same gray stone walls, the same hulking table, the same tapestries and windows and overbearing chandelier, nothing new, nothing inventive, all duty and focus, the way he’d sadly come to like it.

“Kasiandra, what news?” he asked as he turned from the window, studied gaze landing on her before she’d even fully pulled the dream together.

“The trials are over. Lyana and I travel to the House of Whispers come morning.”

He nodded as though he already knew.

Maybe he did. It wasn’t her concern.

“My liege, I found out what the raven was hiding. I discovered his magic. He’s—” Cassi paused, taking a deep breath as her anticipation flared. “He’s an invinci.”

Her king’s eyes widened, blue flames coming to life as the information sank in. “That, Kasiandra, is a very intriguing development.”

She smiled. “I had a feeling you’d think so.”

He gripped his chin as calculations danced across his expression, new plans, new plots, each grander than the one before. Then he focused on her again. “How do you know? What did you see?”

“He punched

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