“What? What does yuh-lorne-ahh mean?” Emma asked, wide-eyed.
“It means beloved or dear little one,” Griffin answered, surprising me. “It is what Drake males often call their fated-mates.”
I looked at the tall Nocturne in surprise.
“How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “Fifteen years of exile—I had plenty of time to read.”
“Oh, okay.” I nodded.
“So that’s really what it means? He’s basically claimed you as his fated-mate?” Megan asked. “Oh Kaitlyn, I knew you two were going to get together!”
“Perhaps you should hold your congratulations for a time,” Griffin said quietly, studying my face. “I do not believe anyone has asked Kaitlyn how she feels about being claimed.”
“I…don’t know, honestly,” I admitted in a low tone. “I mean, Ari is wonderful. But, well, he’s not the only one I have to consider. He kind of comes with a lot of baggage.”
“If you mean his Drake, you’re going to have to get over that,” Avery told me. “You can’t separate a Drake from his Drake—it’s just not possible. They’re a package deal.”
“I know that!” I said, frowning. “I never said I wanted to separate them. It’s just, well, that thing living inside him is huge. It picked me up with one hand or claw or whatever you want to call it. And Ari says it wants to meet me.”
“That would be a non-negotiable part of being bonded to a Drake,” Griffin said dryly. “Otherwise it would be like having a three-way marriage and attempting to exclude one of the partners.”
“Well maybe I don’t want to be in a three-way marriage!” I exclaimed. “Especially not with a fire-breathing dragon!”
“That’s the problem, right there,” Emma said. “It’s the fire-breathing part, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I hung my head, feeling like a coward. But was it really cowardly to not want to meet a creature bigger than a T-rex who had razor sharp teeth, foot-long talons, and could breathe fire?
Yes it is, whispered a scolding little voice in my head. And you’re going to have to face your fear sooner or later, Kaitlyn. You heard what Avery said—you can’t have one without the other.
I probably can’t have Ari anyway, I thought with a little sigh. There was no way his parents—if they really were the rulers of the Drake people—were going to want a human-turned-Nocturne as a daughter-in-law.
And of course, I was only sixteen, which is way too early to be thinking about marriage anyway. Probably Ari would get tired of me after a while and move on. Though who I would get blood from at that point, I didn’t know. But really—
My pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by a shimmering soap bubble, about three feet in diameter, which had suddenly come drifting over to hover right above our table. It was about as big as one of those large exercise balls you see in gyms and its surface was a shifting rainbow of swirling colors.
“What in the world?” Emma muttered, staring up at it.
“Where did it come from?” Megan asked. “And how is it not popping? It’s huge!”
“Hush,” Avery whispered. “It’s magic, can’t you tell? It’s a ‘happy-gram’— I haven’t seen one since I was a little kid.”
“A what?” I asked, frowning.
“A happy-gram. It’s a really childish, beginner spell you teach to magically precocious kids to keep them busy—you can send little pieces of news or pretty pictures to give somebody a smile. That’s why it’s called a happy-gram,” he explained. “I used to send hundreds of these things—my poor mom was bombarded with them.” He looked around. “I wonder who could have sent it? It has to be one of the Sisters.”
“And look—every table has one.” Emma pointed to the four long tables at the head of the Dining Hall where the Drakes, the Faes, the Sisters, and the Nocturnes were seated. Almost every one of them was staring at the giant-sized soap bubbles that had suddenly come out of nowhere to hover in the air over their tables.
“Didn’t you say they showed pictures, Avery? I think it’s beginning to show one now.” Megan leaned forward excitedly. In fact, we all did, wondering what would come next.
But as the shimmering, rainbow surface of the happy-gram soap bubble cleared, what I saw made my stomach clench and my cheeks heat with shame.
Oh, no, I thought, feeling sick. Oh please, no!
53
Kaitlyn
Drifting on the soap bubble’s surface wasn’t a rainbow or a unicorn or a happy little meme to brighten anyone’s day. What I saw was an image of me—well, me and Ari. I was curled in the big Drake’s lap and he was baring his throat for me.
“Drink from me, L’lorna,” he said and the sound of his voice coming from the bubble was faint but audible. “I don’t care that you’re a Nocturne and I am a Drake. The Edict is dead to me—you are the one that I want. The only one, forever.”
I tried to remember if Ari had really said those exact words. I was usually so dizzy with the feelings I got when I took blood from him, it was hard to think clearly. Still, though I couldn’t be sure, I thought this didn’t seem quite right.
“But your people will never accept me,” I protested—or my imagine in the soap bubble did. “And I’m a Made Vampire—no one will want me—not even the Nocturnes.”
“Mierda! I don’t fucking care what my people say!” Ari exclaimed in the bubble. “The Drakes and the Nocturnes can all go fuck themselves, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t care if the whole world burns to ashes as long as I can have you, my sweet L’lorna.”
And then the bubble Ari kissed the bubble me passionately, taking my mouth in
