Chapter 71 Chapter Seventy-One
Julian sat across from Kaelani at a table dressed in dark linens and white fire orchids. He wore a tailored black suit, the lapels satin and sharp, his shirt collar open just enough to reveal the curve of his throat. A deep oxblood tie hung loose around his neck, like he had just arrived or was trying to breathe.
His hair was swept back, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. His eyes were locked on her as if he’d seen a ghost.
He leaned forward slowly, the silverware trembling beneath his hand.
“Kaelani?”
His voice broke the hush like a spell cracking wide.
And she just… stared.
Kaelani blinked slowly, her senses catching up with the illusion—or dream.
She looked around, surprised by how effortlessly her mind had crossed into his. No push, no pull. No resistance. Just… there.
Across from her, Julian leaned in. His hand lifted slightly across the table, like he meant to reach for hers—but it faltered, falling short. His fingers hovered midair before curling into a loose fist.
Something about him was… off.
His skin had a light sheen of sweat. His eyes, usually sharp and steady, looked glazed. Unfocused. He wavered, then suddenly pitched forward, clutching his head like something had struck him from the inside.
“Are you…” he rasped, breathing hard, “…are you really here with me? Or am I hallucinating again?”
Kaelani leaned back slightly, startled. “Again?”
He sat upright with effort, chest rising as he tugged at the knot of his tie, loosening it with a muttered curse. “Why is it so hot in here?”
“It feels fine to me,” she replied, her voice unsettled.
Julian didn’t answer right away. He blinked again, looking around the elegant restaurant like he was seeing it for the first time. Candlelight shimmered across the dark surface of the wine glass before him. A string quartet played something soft and mournful in the distance.
“Maison des Lunes,” he murmured, distracted—then seemed to catch himself. “We’re at Maison des Lunes.”
Kaelani frowned. “This is… a real place?”
His gaze found hers once more. There was something clearer in his eyes now—regret, maybe. Or just longing.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “My father brings my mother here every year on their mating anniversary.”
Kaelani narrowed her eyes slightly, focusing—not outward, but inward. She hadn’t meant to dig. She didn’t want to trespass into his thoughts, his memories. She’d sworn she wouldn’t use her abilities that way.
But she couldn’t help it.
His emotions pulsed so close to the surface. His mind was unguarded. And the place… it wasn’t random.
Her voice came quiet, certain.
“You thought about bringing me here.”
Not a question.
A truth.
She leaned in a little, her tone low. “If you ever got the chance to… start over. Take me on a real date.”
Julian didn’t speak right away. His eyes fell to the table, then returned to hers—heavy with unsaid words.
“I think about it a lot.”
Kaelani glanced down, noticing her dress for the first time—a deep crimson gown, cut too low and slit too high, clinging like it was made for someone who lived for being watched. Designer stilettos shimmered beneath the table, sharp as the judgment she used to feel in pack halls. Her hair was sleek—straightened to perfection.
She’d never wear something like this.
But she knew who would.
She looked back up at him. Her voice was softer now.
“You brought Elara here.”
He winced.
The sweat at his brow deepened, and he pulled off his suit jacket in one swift motion, letting it fall behind him with a frustrated breath.
“Once,” he admitted, almost choking on the word. “Just once.”
His hands shook slightly as he pressed his palms to the table.
“She means nothing to me, Kaelani.” His voice was urgent now. Frayed.
“Maybe I thought she did… once. Back when I was a shallow idiot chasing expectations and image. But when you—”
He faltered, gaze locking with hers.
“You made me feel things I’ve never felt with anyone.”
Kaelani didn’t want to say it.
She really didn’t.
She didn’t want to be that kind of woman—bitter, petty, jealous. But Goddess, it gnawed at her. Scraped against the raw parts of her that had already bled too much.
And maybe it was the wine. Or the way his eyes still held hers like he hadn’t already broken every part of her.
But she didn’t hold back.
“So you want to take me on a proper date,” she said, her voice low. “To a place you’ve already shared with her. And dress me up like the sadistic Barbie bitch who tried to ruin me.”
Julian flinched like she’d struck him. His breath hitched as he loosened more buttons from his shirt, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone, the gleam of sweat now soaking through the fabric.
“You’re right, baby,” he managed hoarsely, licking his lips. “You’re so fucking right. You deserve—”
He paused, swaying slightly.
“You deserve somewhere new. Something special. A place that’s… just for you. Just for us.”
His voice was breaking apart—raw and gruff, like every word scraped his throat on the way out. He swallowed hard, eyes darting—panicked.
“Gods, my throat’s so dry.”
He spotted two tall glasses of ice water on a nearby table, untouched.
Julian shot to his feet and stumbled toward them, knocking his chair back with a screech. He grabbed one glass and downed it in three long gulps. The second followed, faster, the sound of ice clinking against his teeth.
He tossed the empty glass aside, chest heaving as water dripped from his lips, trailing down his jaw, soaking his now half-open shirt.
Kaelani blinked, bewildered.
What in the actual hell?
“Julian?” she asked slowly, her voice careful now.
Julian didn’t answer.
He didn’t even look at her.
Instead, his eyes flicked to another nearby table—two more glasses of water waiting like salvation.
He crossed the space in seconds, grabbed both, and drained them just as fast—water sloshing, glass hitting wood.
Kaelani rose from her seat, her voice sharp now. “What is happening right now?”
He didn’t seem to hear her.
His gaze locked onto a nearby waiter’s side table stacked with silver pitchers. He lunged for them, unhinged, tearing the lid from the nearest and drinking straight from the spout.
Water spilled down his chin, his neck, soaking the already translucent fabric of his shirt.
Then—he grabbed another pitcher.
And dumped it over his head.
The crystal cascade splashed across the marble floor, soaking his hair, his shoulders, his chest—like he was trying to drown the heat clawing from within.
Kaelani stepped back, stunned.
“Julian—?”
But before the last word left her lips—
Her breath hitched.
The shimmer fractured.
And when she blinked—
She was standing in the Dark Forest again.
—-
Back in the Mortal Realm, Julian’s eyes shot open, a ragged gasp caught in his throat.
Heat pressed against his skin like a brand. He blinked, disoriented—vision seared by sunlight that had no business being so blinding. Coarse sand clung to his arms, his back, and the sweat-soaked shirt he had wrapped around his head.
He was lying flat on the desert floor of Vulture’s Run—one of four brutal stretches in their journey. They’d conquered the frozen terrain. Survived the hexed Ravenspine Bridge—barely. Now, they faced the relentless, scorching sun and dead winds of the blistering wasteland.
He lifted his head slowly, every muscle in his body aching.
A few yards behind him, Jace lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious—one arm slung over his face in some instinctive attempt to block the sun. Julian’s heart kicked in his chest.
They’d both passed out.
From the heat. From exhaustion.
Maybe from something else entirely.
Julian forced himself upright, limbs trembling from the effort.
The heat was suffocating—relentless. His boots dragged through the sand as he staggered to Jace’s side.
“Jace,” he rasped, dropping to his knees. “Come on, man.”
He pressed two fingers to his friend’s neck.
The pulse was there—faint, sluggish… but still beating.
Julian exhaled, shaky with relief. He unhooked the water canister from his belt and unscrewed the cap with clumsy fingers. With one arm, he lifted Jace into a sitting position, supporting his back against his chest.
“Wake up,” he muttered, bringing the canister to Jace’s mouth.
“Come on, Jace—open your eyes.”
He tilted the canister gently, letting cool water spill between cracked lips.
“Wake up,” Julian urged again, pouring more as the water dribbled down Jace’s chin.
Suddenly, Jace coughed—violently—water spraying from his mouth as he jolted upright, eyes wide and wild.
Julian slapped his back a few times as Jace hacked.
Then Jace grabbed the canister like it was the last thing tethering him to life.
He chugged with desperate, greedy gulps until Julian had to wrench it away.
Only when Jace sagged back against him, panting, did Julian let himself breathe.
Silence fell over the withered land.
And in the haze of exhaustion, Julian’s thoughts drifted.
To Kaelani.
To the vision.
To the way her voice had felt—so real.
The look in her eyes.
He didn’t know if it had been a dream-walk… or a hallucination.
But whatever it was—
It might’ve just saved their lives.