Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(86)

I groan, wanting to crawl back in. “How about we have lunch together there?”

“Naked lunch?” he asks with a growing grin.

“I’ll see you later,” I reply with a chuckle.

When I enter the tearoom, Clifton’s already there stirring a tiny silver spoon in a porcelain cup. He rests the utensil on the saucer and rises as I take the seat across from him. Impeccably dressed in a linen suit, he wears his hair combed to the side, showcasing his gorgeous profile.

“Ah, you’re here,” he says as a greeting, but his smile is warm as he sits once more. “You do realize that gods hate to be up this early in the morning? We’re all self-indulgent nighttime beings.”

“That must’ve been hard for you as a Sword Exo officer,” I reply.

“As an immortal, one must play a role when one’s overpowered and outnumbered.”

“Is that what your life is, a role?” One of his staff brings me a gold-rimmed cup and pours tea into it. Steam swirls into the air, bringing with it the scent of jasmine. A tiered plate full of breakfast delicacies is set down beside me. I thank the man before he departs.

“Change is a constant,” Clifton answers at last. “I adapt. As your mate, I’ll help you evolve with our changing world.”

The small sip I just took chokes me, and I cough and sputter, setting down the cup. “As my what?”

“You know we’re meant to be together, Roselle.” His green eyes twinkle with mischief.

“I know that you know about me and Reykin.” There. Honest and direct.

“Of course I know about him. I’m just not sure you do.” He takes a sip from his cup, watching me over the rim. “He’s temporary.”

I frown. “I’m going to marry Reykin.”

His smile doesn’t falter. “Reykin’s mortal. You’re not aging, Roselle. I’ve had your blood tested. Your cells regenerate. That makes you immortal. You’re a god. In theory, you’ll even outlast me, if nothing external destroys you. And let’s face it, how long after Reykin dies until you’re ready to love again? You’re more resilient than most.” He smears butter on a piece of toast and takes a bite.

I force a smile. “My love for Reykin will last forever.”

Clifton swallows. “You felt the same for Hawthorne, didn’t you? It hasn’t been very long since he died. Weeks—maybe months. Don’t look so sad, Roselle.” He frowns. “I admire your resiliency. I do. I love everything about you. You’re unjaded. Optimistic. And clever—you’re so clever. Crow doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

“Your confidence in me is absurd, where Crow’s concerned.”

“It’s not misplaced.”

“You’re wrong about Reykin, too. I will love him forever.”

Clifton leans back in his chair, studying me. “You don’t even know what forever is. What are you, twenty? To you, it’s a hundred years, maybe two. I’ll give you those years with your mortal. It’s only fleeting seconds in our time, but I plan to be your constant companion. There’s nothing you can ask that I won’t give you.”

“In exchange for what?”

“In exchange for my getting my powers back,” he says. “I know you can do it, and if you do, I promise to guard Reykin for the rest of his life. I’ll keep the other gods from interfering in your lives. After he’s gone, and there’s no reason for us not to be together, then you consider my offer to be your mate.”

“And if I say no?”

“Why would you? I mean you no harm—either of you. I don’t want to live in a world where you don’t exist, so I’ll protect you with my life. I’ve waited for you for so long, Roselle. I want your lionhearted devotion. I can wait a little longer for you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever love you like that, Clifton.”

“You let me worry about it.”

“I don’t even know if I can restore your strength.”

“You can do it,” he replies, sounding doubtless. “You need me. I can protect Reykin when you can’t. When you go inside Spectrum, he’ll be vulnerable.”

“I’ll let you know my decision soon, Clifton.” I rise from my seat and step toward the door. Clifton reaches out and takes my hand. He brings it to his lips and kisses the back before letting me go.



Slipping into someone’s mind isn’t difficult. The hard part’s not hurting the person. I stand inside a circle of six volunteers, controlling them through their implants. It’s different than what Spectrum does. The ones I’m working with aren’t integrated in a collective. They don’t communicate with each other. I’m just manipulating them like puppets.

It’s taken me days to learn how to maneuver them separately. They’re not as easy to control when they aren’t integrated—like when I simply ordered the soldiers in the detention center back in the Sword Palace. The Spectrum algorithm made sense to me then, like a musical composition, but because these volunteers are not driven by AI, I need to tell them what to do, every movement. If I don’t, they can’t get from point A to point B on their own. Inhabiting them all at the same time takes practice. When I first started, they all moved the same way at the same time, like synchronized swimmers. I’m better now. But their bodies are much weaker than mine. Slower. Not at all nimble. It’s frustrating.