Every inch we traveled toward Noctria grew colder. We’d been riding for hours. Or at least it seemed like that to me. My legs and thighs screamed in agony, making me wish I’d been one of those spoiled rich kids who’d pressed their parents for riding lessons. Like Brianne. I pictured her side-saddled in thigh-high boots and a mini skirt, instead of precariously straddled, clutching the reins for dear life.
Adrius pulled on the reins and the steed came to an abrupt halt.
“What is it?” I frowned, not liking the fact I was only one in the dark. The panic attacks I’d been trying to ditch since middle school rose up again, as my unicorn slowed and trotted next to Adrius. With his usual swift agility, he dismounted, unsheathing his sword.
“Stay here,” he commanded.
Naturally, I ignored him and slid to the ground to help search for the threat. It was such a strange feeling, being trapped in a place where you were both revered and hunted at once. Neither one felt justified.
He peered into the trees with the keen eyes of a hunter, as though expecting something to emerge at any moment.
I held my breath. Everything fell silent. Even the breathing of the unicorns seemed to stop. The tightness in my chest eased up. Whatever it was we heard, was obviously nothing.
Adrius returned from his post, glancing back once more, and sheathed his sword. But as he stepped toward me, he froze.
“Lorelei. Don’t. Move.”
He said it so calmly I might not have panicked, but the strain on his face gave it away a second before I felt the foul hot breath on my neck. Gobs of sticky liquid dropped onto my shoulder and slid down my arm. I sucked in a breath of air, powerless to turn and face what lurked behind me.
I stared at Adrius with bulging eyes unable to move, too petrified to look. Almost in slow motion, I watched his hand glide to pull an arrow from behind his back, positioning it in his bow with stealthy skill.
Then it hit me, a full throttled roar erupted next to my ear, blowing hair across my face. I let out a scream that measured on the Richter scale and ran with all my might toward Adrius, barely missing the arrow that whistled past me and plunged into its intended target with a sickening sound of piercing flesh. He managed to send a second and third zinging through the air before catching me in his arms and pushing me behind him. From there I was finally able to get a look at what he was firing at.
A creature completely foreign to me, especially in its crumpled form, was on the ground spewing black ooze. In the dim light and behind the protective wall of Adrius, I could make out twisted, elongated horns on the body of what looked like an aberration of a wild boar, with the stature of a bear, the horns of a gazelle, and the beard of a goat on a body that seemed eerily human, though nothing but skin and bone.
“What is it?” I exhaled, my heart still racing as Adrius lowered his bow.
“It’s a Pookah… but not your typical variety.”
His composure amazed me. “What does that mean?” I said, watching the creature twitch in the pool of dark liquid spreading beneath him.
“They are not usually so brazen in their approach. It’s unnatural. They can shapeshift into different forms and are usually more cautious,” he said, scanning the forest. “Octãhvia has spelled the creatures coming after you.”
I studied the beast a little closer. A twinge of guilt rippled through me. This was an innocent, living thing, before Octãhvia tampered with him. And now because of me it was dead… Or soon would be.
Adrius approached the beast and withdrew his arrows. The suctioning noise made my stomach heave. Between the sights, sounds, and smells, I was certain what was coming. I raced to the edge of the forest arms clutched around my middle and threw up.
Warm hands brushed my neck and gently pulled my hair back away from my face. I continued to empty the contents of my stomach, which fortunately was fairly empty to begin with. Adrius helped me to my feet, handing me a cold cloth. I was too woozy to even mutter thanks.
I looked up, with an unspoken apology in my eyes. As though reading my mind, which he probably was, he gave a warm smile.
“Don’t worry about it,” he soothed. “Not many have the stomach for this.”
I didn’t. And I wanted to keep it that way. Killing, death, violence… they were concepts as far removed from my existence as imaginably possible. I’d been brought up on the opposite… the preserving of life. I hated fighting and, well, my reaction to the first sign of blood was legendary. But he didn’t seem to mind. It didn’t faze him in the least. Guess that was to be expected after hundreds of years of battling in wars.
He handed me a leather sack with a bottled neck. “Drink this. It will help,” he said, smoothing my hair. I sank to the ground, relieved not to have to bear my own weight for a while, and drank what tasted like water with lemon and ginger. Grimacing, I swallowed another sip, not sure if the taste was any better than the bile.
“Thanks,” I managed, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “So is this what it’s going to be like… The entire trip. Me being attacked by beings possessed by the Ice Witch and you having to kill them in order to save me?” It was too much blood on my hands. I didn’t want to be the cause of so much death and destruction.
Adrius frowned, and I could feel his gaze penetrating me, trying to understand whatever he saw on my ashen face. I didn’t try to stop him.
“The Nevermore has always been wild, Lorelei. Your presence here doesn’t change that.”
I nodded, peering up through heavy lids. How I wished that were true. But it was painfully obvious my being here changed everything. Lives were at risk because of me. And nothing he could say could rationalize that away.
We rode a while longer that night in silence. Every snap and crack caused my heart to jump, as we mounted a hill in an open space among the trees. On its grassy slopes, between the trees, lavender, deadly night shade, and snowdrops bloomed. The top was crowned with a dense ring of trees, beyond which a winding river meandered down the other side.
Toward the center of the ring, I could make out the largest waterfall I’d ever seen in the distance. It flowed in tumultuous cascades down the face of a rocky cliff. And once again I was reminded of how incredible this place was. Finally his velvety voice broke the eerie silence.
“You’ve got something on your mind. I can sense the weight of your uneasiness and it’s wearing me down. What exactly are you afraid of?”
“Death,” I said without hesitation. “But not mine… Yours.”
He chuckled. “You are a strange girl, Lorelei. Only you would waste energy fearing for the life of an immortal.”
“But… you can die, right? I mean elves and fey have unnaturally long lives, but you can be killed.”
He paused as though choosing his words carefully.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “But it won’t be tonight.” He gave a tight smile and pointed to a small clearing beyond a group of weeping willow trees. “We can rest there.” When he saw my hesitation, he added, “Don’t worry. We’ll both be safe.”
At the edge of a small stream I refilled our water sacs and picked wild blackberries — the only berry I recognized in the forests of the Nevermore — returning with my arms overloaded with fruit.
Faster than any camping trip I’d ever been on, Adrius had assembled shelter, a tent lined with fur throws and blankets, and a roaring fire, above which a pot simmered slowly.
“Where did you get all of this,” I asked mesmerized by the array of items that seemingly had come from his average-sized pack.
“Never under estimate the advantages of magic.” He smiled.
“Ahhhh. Of course… Magic. What else,” I said, fingering a blanket so light and soft, it felt like a down feather. Up until now I had only been introduced to magic’s darker aspects. Guess it did have some usefulness.
“So with all this magic available, why is the Ice Witch such a threat? Couldn’t Hawthrin, I don’t know, vaporize her or something?”
He gave a dark laugh. “Magic doesn’t work like that. It has its uses, yes, but what it can and can’t be used for depends extensively on the wielder… And their bloodline.” He threw a log onto the fire, watching the sparks leap. “Dark blood equals dark magic. Spells are extremely specific, and witches and wizards are limited to their coven’s grimoire.”
I blinked in confusion.
“Book of spells,” he clarified. “No sorcerer can undo another’s spell without access to their grimoire.”
“Sounds easy enough.” I gave a sarcastic shrug, certain it was anything but.
“None of us are omnipotent. Even the darkest magic has its limitations. And every wielder of magic has their weakness.”
“I’ve seen you and Julien summon magic with your swords, and the healer who came to my room… she used magic also?”
“Yes and no. Healing is a gift. It is not something that can be bestowed. Our swords however, are spelled, as is yours. It helps in battle.” Throwing his head back to chug from his leather water canteen, he splashed some over his face and hands. Then poured tea into a wooden cup and handed it to me with a chunk of bread.
“Elvish magic is elemental,” he explained. “Working with wind, water, fire, and plants. The Shadow fey have much more range, because of their link to the dark arts. They have an advantage when it comes to healing, and the use of glamour, which in the Unseelie Court makes it easy to get away with murder… Literally.”
I stared into the fire. Then suddenly like a cold touch on my heart, I thought of Zanthiel and shivered.
“But not even a wizard of the high order can counter dark magic with light magic,” he continued. “They would at best come to a stalemate, and in the end, dark would prevail.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Because light has the power to endure, but dark has the power to destroy. Light would win in the end. But there would be nothing left worth saving.” He knelt next to the fire, stirring whatever it was that smelled so delicious in the pot, and then poured himself some tea. “That is only part of what makes Octãhvia so dangerous.”
“More dangerous than the Unseelie fey?” I asked, nibbling my lower lip.
Adrius glanced up at me, his eyes questioning. I focused on my hands, evading his gaze.
“Centuries of persecution and death by trial created pure hatred in the hearts of the witches. It’s a hatred that seeks not only revenge, but retribution in the form of total annihilation of the Elsarian Realm and enslavement of all beings responsible for the atrocities. Octãhvia is not just evil. She believes she is right, that her actions are justified. And that makes her far more dangerous.”
As I mulled over his words, wondering how I could possibly be of any use against so much hate, a memory resurfaced.
“Adrius, what were you and Hawthrin talking about that day, when I first woke up here in wonderland.”
He looked up quickly. “You heard that?”
I nodded. “I was a little out of it thanks to Nurse Ratched, but it sounded like a pretty intense conversation.”
“It wasn’t. We were discussing the prophecy and everyone affected by it.”
“Does everyone include me? Because I heard my name mentioned.”
“Yes, Lorelei. You are a part of everyone. The information I learned was not meant to get out, but once I knew, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know. It’s another reason why I don’t want you to do this.”
“You’re sort of speaking in riddles, you know that, right?”
He sighed and focused on the ground. “There was another part to the prediction, a part not made public knowledge. Hawthrin told me about it when he thought I might be falling for you.”
My heart jumped, then pounded wildly. When he looked up at me I wondered if he heard it.
“I told him we were friends,” he said gently. “And that I was coming to find you to keep you safe.”
I frowned as my excitement faded. Friends had never sounded so second rate before. “Well, what did the rest of the prophecy say?”
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, calculating his response. Watching him as often as I did, I’d become accustomed to his gestures. I could tell he was carefully formulating his answer.
“You will defeat the Ice Witch, stop the war, and in the end… you will be killed.”
“Um, that seems like an important part to leave out,” I said as my stomach twisted. It was one thing for the Fates to conspire in my favor. It was another entirely to know certain death was also part of the prediction.
“Unfortunately, that is the nature of the prophecies in our realm. They are handed down to a very select few, and only when the deities have given word, are those few permitted to share the knowledge. It sometimes comes in random puzzle pieces. I think, because as things change, the course of the future must change also. It’s why I’ve never put much stock in them. Until recently.
“So you believe in this prophecy?”
His eyes darkened for a moment, and he studied his hands before returning his gaze to me. “I refuse to believe all of it,” he said with determination in his voice. ”Hawthrin once told me we can’t pick and choose between which prophecies will come true. He’s annoyingly right most of the time, but this time he has to be wrong.”
“Lorelei. I don’t want you to worry. That will not become your fate. I won’t let it.”
I nodded, suddenly feeling a total loss of appetite. Why hadn’t I given more thought to the potential perils of this? If I died, then all of this would be for nothing. Saving my mother, finding my father… Yet, it was too late to turn back. If I did nothing, I would still die alongside countless others at the hand of the Ice Witch. I had to do this. Or at least try to get to Faery to see if any of the magic they claim I have in me can be found. That was the plan. It sounded like such a long shot, only a fool would bet on it. And yet here we were, betting the lives of thousands against the impossible odds.
****
Adrius tended to the fire, dutifully preparing two simmering bowls of stew and refusing my repeat offers of help.
“If you must do something, you can set up your bed.” He tossed me an armful of blankets.
I glanced at the animal skin tent. It resembled a tepee with the signature Elvish scrollwork etched in glowing silver.
Raising an eyebrow, I looked at him. “Just one tent?”
He lifted his head and eyed the solitary dwelling, then swallowed his mouthful of stew.
“I’m sleeping outside.”
I peeked inside the tent which was surprisingly larger than what it appeared. I deposited the blankets and planted myself next to him on a log, taking a swig from my canteen.
A spoon filled with stew came up to my lips. “Here. Taste,” he said, and I obediently opened my mouth.
It was amazing, and not just because I was starving. “So you can cook too. Any other secret abilities I should know about… do you change into a blue and red Superman costume at night and fly around rescuing kittens too?”
Adrius chuckled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, for a change.” A mischievous gleam lit up his face. “It’s the comment you made. About Taryn. What was that?”
I choked on my water, spewed a mouthful onto the ground, coughing and clearing my throat. Classy. “That… was nothing,” I croaked, wiping my mouth with as much decorum as I could scrape together.
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “It sounded like you thought I might be interested in her.”
“Huh. Did it? Funny…” I said quickly. Avoiding his gaze, I chewed on a ragged fingernail. “But since you brought it up… were you?”
“Was I what?” he teased.
“Interested. In her, I mean. Romantically, interested.” I felt completely stupid. “You know what, just, never mind. Forget I asked… Totally none of my business.” I grabbed a stick and poked at the fire, focusing on the sparks leaping into the night while my face grew warmer.
“No. I’m not. Never have been.”
I nodded, hoping my veiled attempt at nonchalance fooled him.
“She makes me kind of uncomfortable.”
I looked up. “Why?” She was stunningly gorgeous, with a beauty no mere mortal girl could ever hope to achieve. “Don’t you find her attractive?”
He considered it. “Yes, I guess, but looks aren’t everything. She is also shallow, vain, and spoiled, and she knows it. None of the warmth and depth that… ” He stared into my eyes, then looked away. “…that some girls have,” he finished, clearing his throat a little. “I think if you asked her she’d tell you she was more interested in Julien. He’s an easy catch, so it’s merely a matter of time.”
“Before what? They get married? Shack up? Throw down and consummate?”
“Before they bind themselves to one another.”
“Wow. That sounds… permanent.”
“It’s eternal.” He stared at his hands clenched on his knees, unable to look up.
“Cra-zy. Most humans can’t even make it to a decade without divorce.” I quipped before noticing the way his lips had tightened into a thin line.
“Adrius?” I shifted closer to him on the log. The sadness in his eyes was highlighted by the golden flames, and yet still they radiated warmth.
He was quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts. “Julien enjoys the attention. But it only strengthens my wall of distrust.” He shoved his hair back out of his eyes. “Guess that’s why I prefer the human world in some ways… Fewer ties. Not so— intense.” He glanced up at me through dark lashes. “Usually.”
“Did you spend a lot of time in my world?” He’d never exactly told me why he showed up at the Lemon Balm that night we met. I was curious and he was unusually talkative.
“…More long ago… Less now. Part of the reason for my frequent trips was to experience what it was like to just be. Not a prince, not a guardian, just myself.”
He stared into the night, his eyes tinged with a faraway pain. “Unfortunately, those getaways seldom ended well.” He wanted to say more, I could tell, but he stopped himself. “These days the pollution has risen to unbearable levels in many places. Smog, acid rain, thinning ozone combined with the massive amounts of steel and iron have created an environment that would be deadly to most beings from the Nevermore. Very few live there full time anymore. Those who do, fit in one of three categories…They’re either halflings, possessing some human blood and DNA enabling them to survive the toxic conditions…”
“Like me,” I added softly.
“Yes. Like you… and the witches.” He nodded. “Or they are the cursed; banished from this world, doomed to wander among the humans for eternity. They generally seek ways to end their lives.”
I tried to imagine faeries and elves exiled from paradise, condemned to live an eternity in Drearyton Cove. It really was a fate worse than death.
“Some survive with the help of powerful glamour… Magic,” he added for my benefit. “It allows them to live among humans in relative obscurity.”
My mind flashed to the psychiatrist’s office where I’d spent hours baring snippets of my soul. “Like your uncle,” I said.
Adrius nodded. “Unlike most, my uncle was given a choice.”
“But why would anyone choose to leave here to live in my world?”
He shrugged. “Why does anyone choose anything? There’s a myriad of reasons. My uncle was given a choice to stay and give up the human girl he’d fallen in love with, or leave, never to return again, and live out her short mortal life in your world. He chose love.” His voice dropped as he answered my unspoken question. “Eventually, she died and he’s been alone ever since.”
He stared at me through the sparking firelight. The scent of burning wood mingled with his. My heart kept pace with the leaping flames. But as his eyes dissected my expression, his smile faded and his forehead creased.
I sighed and leaned back tilting my face up to the cool evening sky. “It’s nice being here with you when you’re not all sullen and broody.”
He laughed. “Sullen and brooding. Ouch.”
Leaning in, he brushed his hand along my cheek and I melted under his touch. His arm slipped around my waist, drawing me closer.
“You’re shivering.”
The trembling had nothing to do with the cold but I wasn’t going to tell him that. I didn’t want to say anything, and risk ruining the moment. Things suddenly seemed surreal, sitting here next to him under the azure moonlight. Subtract the wild beasts waiting to pounce and the death mission we were on, and it was perfect.
He cupped my chin tilting my head back so his lips hovered above mine. I could feel his uneven breath against my cheek. His brows furrowed briefly, and then relaxed, as his eyes burrowed into mine.
His hand pressed into my lower back and I arched into him. The scent of him was intoxicating, and my eyes fluttered closed as I waited breathlessly for our lips to touch.
Instead, Adrius jumped up, the sudden movement knocking me to the ground.
“We should go,” he said. His voice came out low and hoarse.
I stared up at him, confused. It took my body a second to catch up with what had, or rather hadn’t happened.
“What’s wrong?” He wasn’t scanning the forest and his sword and knives were still safely in their scabbards, so we weren’t in any immediate danger.
“It’s nothing,” he said darkly. Then he sighed, offering me his hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet without exerting any effort at all.
His hands combed through his hair, something that never stopped being sexy; then he frowned.
“It’s not a good idea… being alone with you like this. It’s too… easy.”
My enthusiasm faded and a raw knot tangled in my stomach.
He shook his head in frustration. “That’s not what I mean. By all logic I should be leagues from here,” he said, shooting me a look. “…but I’m here… and, you’re here… too accessible, too available, too… beautiful…” His voice dropped, like he was talking to himself. “The closer I get to you, the more tempted I am to say yes to… whatever with you. And I won’t do that.” There was a long pause. “I can’t do that.”
He massaged the back of his neck and then turned away.
I sighed, taking his hand. “Adrius.” Searching his face for answers came up empty. Just a vacant faraway look in his darkening eyes that only hinted at how much he was suffering.
Adrius squinted into the sky, as though imploring the gods for help. When he spoke, his voice quaked. “I shouldn’t have these feelings for you. It shouldn’t feel so… right. Too much is at stake.” A frown creased between his eyes. “This connection between us. Your feelings for me. It’s not normal,” he murmured, staring down at his fingers still interlaced with mine.
“There’s nothing normal about any of this. But I’ve never claimed I was normal,” I said quietly. “Only human.”
“Human,” he repeated in a whisper. His hand stroked my cheek, smudging his thumb across the pout of my lower lip.
A rush of warmth spread through me. I felt dizzy and more alive than I’d ever felt before. My pulse thumped in my ears. I took his hand and drew it to my heart. Letting it rest there for a moment, absorbing the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of my blouse.
A soft moan escaped his slightly parted lips.
“This feeling…” I ran my fingers lightly over his hand, pressing so he could feel the erratic beat of my heart. “This is as human as I’ve ever felt,” I whispered.
His gaze traveled upward to meet mine. "For centuries I've lived among my kind and yours, never believing there was anyone for me. Anyone who could make me feel like this. All the while convincing myself, it was better this way. Not knowing, not caring, not… feeling.” A warm hand brushed against my cheek, and I leaned into his caress. “Without even knowing I was searching, I found you.”
Reaching up, my hands traced the sharp angle of his cheekbones, along the hard line of his jaw to the soft curve of his lips. He was beyond beautiful.
This time there was no hesitation. He took this chance to hold me as tightly as I’d been yearning for him to since our dance at the Beltane Festival.
His fingers slipped down my spine, lingering on the small of my back. "Do you have any idea how tempting you are?" he said.
My breath hitched in my chest, and I let my eyes drift closed.
Tensing, as though fighting an internal battle, he exhaled a slow steady breath. “We’re playing with fire — you do know that.” There was a pause and I felt the weight of his gaze sweep my face. “Lorelei, look at me,” he said quietly.
I opened my eyes. “Better fire than ice if—” the words were cut off as his mouth melted into mine. I buried my hands in the thickness of his hair and for one blissful moment everything felt, right.
But the pleasurable sensation didn’t last — a dull pulsing knot formed in my stomach.
There was something else I could feel in the middle of the fire burning between us. Pain — physical pain. The closer I pressed against him, the more I could sense that his desire was intermingled with agony.
He pulled back, breathless, panting.
“Sorry! Did I hurt you?” I whispered, equally out of breath. It was only my second kiss after all. Maybe in the heat of things I’d accidentally bitten him or something.
His wince was almost unperceivable. “No.” He breathed, letting his lips trail along my jaw down the curve of my neck, making me quiver. His eyes were closed under tightly knit brows. When his lips met mine again, I felt an intensity, an urgency parting them. An explosive current rippled through me. My body went limp against his chest and I felt lightheaded again. His hands tangled in my hair and I slid my fingers beneath his shirt to stroke the firm muscles of his chest and stomach. He groaned and crushed me against him.
This time I was the one to pull back. I couldn’t shake the vision of pain and pleasure so morbidly entwined.
“When I kiss you, I can sense what you’re feeling.” He nuzzled into the top of my head, breathing hard.
“And I can see your pain,” I said softly, still too weak-kneed to stand. My voice broke off and we stood in a silent embrace a moment longer while he struggled with conflicting emotions — passion, anger, sadness, frustration, guilt, regret.
“I’m sorry, Lorelei,” he finally said, his voice dropping away. I looked up at him, but he didn’t say anything more, burying his face deep in my hair. His breathing was shallow; the rapid rising and falling of his chest, heavy against mine.
Adrius had been struggling to pull away since I’d first arrived in his world. The effort took so much out of him, out of us both… I knew it was inevitable we would give into our compelling need for one another. It was only a question of when.
In that moment, folded in the warmth of his arms, I understood this was why I was here. Why we were here together. He was in pain. And his pain hurt me also, because it was a pain I somehow caused, and yet one I could not heal. Adrius was a part of me. We were connected in ways I couldn’t explain or even fully understand. All I knew was when he hurt, I hurt, and I would do anything to make it go away; to fill the ache that set in when we were too far apart… or too close together. In so many ways we were already bound, and nothing, not even death, could change that now.