LITMIR.BIZ

       chapter three

      “Humility is your protection from self-deception. Pride is your defeat.”

      —Troika

      I’m bathed in liquid sunshine and bliss. The water doesn’t soak me or even dampen my clothing; it goes through me, somehow cleansing me from the inside out and, for one sublime moment, washing away my problems. Peace settles over me. There’s no room for fear or melancholy.

      I breathe in deeply...exhale slowly...and savor every second.

      I’m certain Killian will overcome whatever obstacles are thrown into his path. He’s smart. Brilliant, actually. And I’m ecstatic for Archer. He’s entered into the Rest. Who wouldn’t enjoy a permanent vacation from war? I’m confident I’ll overcome my own obstacles and quickly acclimate to my new circumstances...new structures, studies, traditions and people.

      I’m not worried about my parents, who are Myriad loyalists, living in the other realm...hating me?

      Maybe, maybe not. Before taking her final breath, my mother reconciled with me. My father cursed me before his. No matter. My peace endures. My worth isn’t measured by his feelings for me. I am who I am, and my worth is my worth. Life is that simple and that complicated.

      I’m not even worried about the frigid cold I experience whenever Killian touches me. We’ve become two halves of a whole, and we’ll find a way to be together.

      A hard weight slams into me from behind and knocks me forward. I stumble, coming out the other side of the waterfall, my precious peace instantly replaced by worries and concerns, my warmth by cold and my hope by despair. Tremors ignite in my belly and quickly spread through the rest of me.

      Deacon, despite his dislike of me, helps steady me as a guy who looks to be my age emerges from the Veil.

      “Sorry, sorry,” the guy says with a slight British accent. “Absolutely my fault, yeah. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

      He has dark blond hair and amber eyes—one of which is ringed with black. He’s been in a fight. The battle we just left?

      Guilt pricks at me.

      There’s something familiar about him, but I’m too jumbled by my wayward emotions to solve the puzzle. Despite the bruising, he’s pretty enough to make a storybook princess weep with envy. At roughly five foot ten, he’s not much taller than me. However, the breadth of his shoulders allows him to engulf me.

      His gaze slides to Deacon, and I realize I’ve been staring at him in silence. “New recruit?” he asks, amused, and my cheeks heat.

      “Yes,” Deacon replies, his voice tight. He pats the guy on the shoulder and seems to fortify himself for an uncomfortable conversation. “There’s something you need to know, Victor. Archer is...he’s been...”

      Victor holds up his hand and releases a heavy breath. “I’ve been told, but I refuse to mourn. I’ll be too busy fighting for his return.”

      Victor winks at me. “Welcome home, newbie. You’re going to love it here. Come by my apartment later, and I’ll personally make sure of it.”

      Deacon gives the guy’s chest a light punch. “The sexual harassment seminar is going well, I see.”

      A grinning Victor salutes him before focusing on me. “I’m late for a debriefing or I’d stay and get to know you better. I know, I know. You’re devastated. When you come by—you did agree to visit me, right?—I’ll dry your tears.” He rushes off.

      “Is everyone I meet going to make me feel like I fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch?” I ask.

      “Spirits are flawless. There isn’t a can of dog food in the bunch.”

      Good to know. “So who was that?”

      “Victor Prince. Archer’s younger brother. They shared a special bond.”

      Archer’s brother? Guilt slashes me, until I’m nothing but confetti.

      Why didn’t he curse at me? Or rail? Why didn’t he demand I leave the realm forever? Something! Instead, he invited me over for, I’m guessing, a little light flirting.

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