I wasn’t sure how long we lay tangled up in each other, our clothes rumpled and lopsided around our half naked bodies. But for several blissful moments, I knew nothing but peace. I didn’t even notice the pain in my leg.
All I felt was her. She took over my senses, and I gladly let her. My fingers absently brushed her golden hair, and her head was tucked into my chest. I knew by her ragged breathing that she was still awake.
Of course she was. She didn’t sleep.
The reminder sobered me, and I sighed, the contented smile slipping from my face. “I’m sorry.”
“Hmm?” she hummed against my chest.
“I’m sorry we’re in this predicament. If I’d studied my magic more, maybe I could have found a spell that could have…” I trailed off, unable to voice the myriad alternatives that would have been available to us. A tracking spell to find her sisters from the beginning. A summoning spell to call for help from someone other than Fenn, since I wasn’t even sure if he’d received my message. A glamour spell to help us blend in more.
“Marek.” Adira lifted her head, drawing back to look at me, her eyes full of admonition and concern. A wrinkle formed between her brows. “Why are you talking like this? My sisters’ kidnapping is not your fault.”
“No, but if I hadn’t been so foolishly wrapped up in my bitter feelings—about you, about my injury—then things might be different.”
She placed her cool hand against my cheek. “You did nothing wrong. I had the same foolish feelings as you.” Her lips quirked in a smile, making her eyes crinkle, and her dimple appeared. The sight of that adorable look on her face warmed my heart, easing some of the tension in my chest.
“I don’t know what will happen when we leave this room,” I admitted. It was part of why I yearned to stay here, suspended in this perfect moment forever.
“You doubt yourself too much, my little mango,” Adira said. “Your magic is powerful. And yes, with some practice, you probably could have managed some incredible spells. But even without that practice, you are a talented mage. Don’t deny it,” she snapped when I opened my mouth to object. She jabbed a finger at my chest. “You managed to replicate this spell with no practice at all. You brought us here. I’d say that’s a damn fine achievement.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, though doubts still clouded my mind.
“You need to trust yourself,” Adira said, placing her palm against my chest. “Your instincts in battle are superb, and you know you’re a good soldier. Why can’t you have the same faith in yourself as a mage?”
That was easy; because I hadn’t practiced for years as a mage like I had as a soldier.
But that was the root of the problem, wasn’t it? I initially took the post as soldier for the Court of Midnight as an escape from Allsburg, where I’d thought the woman I loved would marry someone else. And when I’d been wounded, the damage to my shin bone permanent, I’d thrown myself into training, determined to prove I was every bit as capable as I’d been before the injury.
And my magic was left forgotten.
I had been so focused on my physical strengths that I completely abandoned my magical strengths.
“Whatever you think of yourself,” Adira said softly, running the pad of her thumb along my cheek, “just know that I think you are the bravest, strongest, and most talented man I have ever met. I look at you and I only see those strengths, Marek. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, and I swallowed, too overcome with emotion to speak. Instead, I nodded at her.
Her smile broadened, and she pressed a kiss to my cheek. When she moved to rise, I caught her wrist, stilling her.
“I promise to trust myself and my instincts more,” I said slowly, “if you promise to do the same.” When she frowned at me in confusion, I continued, “You are strong and firm and determined, Adira. You will make a fantastic queen someday. But you need to trust yourself to do it. You can’t linger in the shadows forever. I don’t know much about ruling a kingdom, but I know it requires just as much courage as facing a battle. Perhaps even more. I know you have that courage in you, but you need to see it for yourself.”
Her expression turned solemn as she stared at me, her lips parting and her breath trembling. I tried to fill my gaze with everything I felt for her—admiration, love, trust—but I wasn’t sure she saw it.
After a moment, she nodded. “All right, Marek. I will try.”
I leaned in, pressing my mouth firmly to hers in a brief but thorough kiss. My tongue swept along her lip, and she made a startled noise against me, her hands pressing into my chest.
When I withdrew, her face was pink, and she laughed breathlessly. “What was that for?”
“For all the moments I wasted not kissing you. I swear I won’t waste them anymore.”
“Good.” She lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with that determination I knew so well.
We took a few moments to tidy our appearances, righting our clothes and smoothing our hair. I was almost certain we would be discovered, but it would help if we weren’t completely disheveled. When we were ready, I dropped the wards surrounding the room and clasped Adira’s hand in mine. After exchanging a steady glance, we left the room.
The halls were eerily quiet. Though our footsteps were slow and careful, they still echoed around us, and I was sure the sound would attract attention.
When we reached the end of the hall, I paused to sniff the air, searching for the familiar smell of the enchantment from the vanilla tea. It was there, saturating the air, thick and heavy, but it was mingled with something else. Something that made me pause, my skin prickling.
Cinnamon and strawberries and pure light.
Adira’s grip tensed on my hand. “What is it?”
I inhaled deeply, turning to her with a frown. “It smells like… you.”
Adira’s face paled. “What does that mean?”
I said nothing because I didn’t know. But if Adira was part fae, it meant she had magic.
And someone was using that magic.
Still clutching her tightly, I guided her up the staircase, following the scent of her. We came through a door leading to the main floor, and music poured through the castle, the sound bouncing off the massive walls. A light, eerie feeling drifted over me, and I found my steps lifting with the tempo of the music.
Adira’s fingernails dug into my skin. “Marek. It’s enchanted.”
I blinked, trying to focus on her words, but that glorious music resonated through me, warming my bones and making my blood sing.
“Shit,” Adira mumbled, dropping my hand to fiddle with her dress. Something ripped, and then she was shoving pieces of fabric into my ears, blocking out the music.
Awareness slammed into me, cold and solid. I gasped, blinking at her. She raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded in gratitude before taking her hand once more.
We followed the music and the smell of Adira’s magic up the stairs and back to the ballroom. But instead of a crowd of fae, there were only eleven figures spinning elegantly in time with the music. They wore identical lavender gowns, tulle and lace twirling with each movement. Long purple ribbons held their hair up, the strips of silk fabric swinging as they danced.
But their faces… stars above, their faces were blank and empty like corpses. They didn’t even blink.
A strangled sound came from Adira as she stiffened beside me, lifting a hand to cover her mouth in horror as she stared at her sisters. “Beatrice?” she called, as the eldest of the group sashayed past us. “Cleo? Oh gods, Irene.”
There was Irene, her face pale and unresponsive. And at the end of the row of dancers were the identical triplets—Juliette, Katrina, and Laurel—their tiny frames bouncing with their movements. A chill swept over me at the sight of their hollow and dead expressions, so foreign on the faces that were often full of laughter and delight.
Adira turned to me with tears in her eyes. “Can you stop them?” Her voice was muffled, but I could still understand her.
I searched within myself, trying to call my magic forward. But with the music surrounding me and the fabric blocking my ears, I couldn’t focus on my powers. They felt sluggish and slow, and nothing happened when I tried calling them to life.
“Dammit,” I hissed. “Addie, I can’t—” I froze as a new scent drifted into the room, something that smelled of midnight and ice. Beside me, Adira went rigid as a figure drifted into the room.
“Ah, my lovely daughter,” Queen Rosalina said, smiling widely at us. “You’ve returned to me at last.”