Secret Heir (Dynasty #1)(44)

I don’t expect Raph to notice the flicker of uncertainty in my eyes as the doubt eats away at me. But he does and he pauses mid-instruction, taking a step towards me as he studies my face. I feel unnerved, because he’s done this a few times now and it surprises me each time how perceptive he is. I’d always thought of him as a self-centered prick, who cares about nothing and no one but himself. Those uncanny blue eyes are surprisingly observant as they watch my expression in that moment and something inside me whispers that perhaps he’s always been watching.

“What’s up, Jaz?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I shake my head slightly then.

“I keep thinking that any moment now you’re going to turn around and firebomb my ass or unleash whatever sick payback you have waiting for me next.”

His brow furrows and I think I must be imagining it, but Raph seems genuinely offended by that.

“You still don’t trust me,” he says flatly.

“Do you blame me?” I ask warily.

He lets out a long breath then.

“No. I promise you, Jaz, this isn’t some kind of sick payback. I offered to help you, so I’m here—helping you.”

I stare back at him, the confusion from that night on the beach when he floored me with that very offer, returns.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask. I don’t think I’ve even allowed myself to ask him this yet.

He looks away then, turning his gaze to look out at the crashing waves.

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly.

I don’t push him. Partly because I can see that he doesn’t have the answer himself and also because maybe I don’t want to know it.

The moment passes and Raph begins the session with demonstrations in the usual way. When it’s my turn, I feel the knot of apprehension in my stomach tighten.

“Come on, Jaz—you need to get past this first one so that we can move to the other elements.” Raph puts on his team pep talk voice and I can see why he’s the captain of the soccer team. He’s good at this.

“So, I’m expected to know how to use all the elements?” I ask again.

“Yes, all of them. Of course, you won’t be able to summon daylight, only I can do that,” he replies with a flourish, and I roll my eyes in response.

“In the same way that only members of the Evenstar Dynasty can summon night. Exclusive sovereign Dynasty powers and all that.”

I walk closer to the edge of the water and I can feel my frustration burning as I try to focus on hearing the pounding of the waves against the shore, feeling the movements of the water. Just as I feel the connection beginning to snap into place, I feel a wall coming down around my senses.

“Argh—it’s no use,” I cry out as I come up empty again.

“Calm down,” Raph’s says evenly.

I squeeze my eyes shut in frustration, but I can feel Raph’s eyes on me. I turn to him finally, to find him watching me, trying to read me. I don’t want him to.

“What is it?” he asks quietly.

My answer is one that I’m certain I hadn’t let myself admit until that moment.

“My first foster parents were nice people. They couldn’t have kids of their own, so they took me in after my mom died. I was only seven, but I could sense the expectations they had for me. I’d be their little angel—sweet, perfect, normal. I guess they soon found out that I was far from any of those things, even then. Things would happen which nobody could explain—the shadows, the shifting elements. Things that I was too young to control, secrets that I was too young to know how to hide.”

I’m vaguely aware that I’m telling Raph things that I’ve never told a single soul. It feels like a damn bursting inside me and I can’t stop the words from breaking through.

Raph doesn’t say a word. He just listens and in that moment, it’s what I need.

“They put me through endless therapy sessions, convinced there was a way to fix me. But it was no use. Their good intentions turned to doubt, then to disappointment and even fear. It’s as if they were scared that I’d one day kill them in their sleep.” The memory of it burns through me, but I force myself not to let it show. The way those endlessly blue eyes are watching me, though, tells me that Raph sees it anyway.

“I was shipped off to foster home number two in less than a year and it went on like that until I learned how to hide my curse. Until I learned how to hide who I was. I guess that after a lifetime of hiding those powers, of blocking them out, the thought of finally unleashing them, scares the shit out of me.”

I turn back to the sweeping horizon, watching the waves lap against the shore as I feel Raph watching me.

“Your powers aren’t a curse, Jaz. They’re a gift,” he says finally. His words touch some part of me I didn’t even know existed until this moment and when I turn to look at him, the look in his eyes is not one I’ve seen before.

He steps closer to me, and although I’m certain that I should, I don’t step back, standing rooted to the spot instead.

“You were born a god and made to live like a human. There is nothing normal about you and you should be fucking proud of that —because there is nothing good about being normal.”

He says every word with a conviction that floors me, as if he wants me to believe every word in the deepest, darkest parts of me. In those broken parts that I long ago learned to hide.