to blur together. I ate some of the fae’s magic-laden food, because I was literally starving. I tried to eat as little as possible, but I still felt the magic affecting me, now that I knew it was there. I felt more relaxed. Almost happy. As if I had been worrying all this time over nothing.
More fae lies.
The cat had come back this morning to tell me that her sparrow captive had delivered a message to my crow. Now I only had to hope that Sanka and the others would understand that the crow was trying to tell them something. And that they cared enough to come for me.
The doubts grew louder in my mind with every passing hour I spent in this place. Yes, I knew the fae had ulterior motives. They gave me a comfortable room and delicious food, and Odell promised me I could come and go as I pleased if I would only do as he asked. And…how was that any different than Robin and her court? Everyone always wanted to use me.
Cicely visited me every time I slept, whether that was at night, or while napping during the day. His kindness was a lifeline that I clung to. My time with him was a brief respite from the constant worry and frustration of being held prisoner in a gilded cage. I had suspected him too, at first. But he never seemed to push for anything. He only wanted to chat about unimportant things while we lazed in the sunny world he created. I began to believe that he really was just a lonely creature who was nearly as beholden to the fae court as I was.
From what I understood, it was hard to make a life as an unaligned paranormal—one who lived outside the structure provided by the syndicate. To choose that option meant there was no protection from a human society that was built in every way to keep non-humans down. There was also no legal recourse or protection against other paranormals. If you were part of a syndicate controlled group, you got the advantage of an unofficial paranormal police force and justice system of sorts. But if you were unaligned, you were at the mercy of stronger paranormals, and no human justice system was going to go out of their way to help an unimportant paranormal outlier. So, while I wanted to hate Cicely just for being part of this shady fae clan…I couldn’t really blame him. If he was as soft and harmless as he seemed, living under the protection of the syndicate was probably his only option.
I blinked my eyes open to find myself surrounded by greenery and flowers that I could actually see, and the soft warmth of the sun on my skin. I had fallen asleep, then. Pushing to my feet, I followed the now-familiar sound of a pan flute through a meandering, twisting woodland path to a vine-and-flower-covered white gazebo. Cicely was perched on the side of the new structure, the sun glinting on his riotous golden curls as he played a joyful tune.
I smiled as I stepped up into the gazebo. It had a wooden plank floor, half of which was covered with thick cushions and pillows in gem-bright colors. “This is new,” I commented.
The faun hopped off the railing and danced around me as he continued to play, his hooves tapping out a quick, graceful jig as I spun in a circle to watch him. His bright green eyes glinted with merriment, and he smiled as he played.
I gave in to the urge to join him, clapping my hands and spinning around the space as if I had any clue how to dance. For the moment, all my cares drifted away. It was a welcome respite.
After a time, Cicely’s music slowed until we both merely swayed in place. Then he stopped playing altogether, tucking his pan flute into the pocket of his baggy shorts and giving me a soft smile. “You look good like that,” he commented.
I arched my brows, then flopped down onto one of the fat cushions on the floor. “What, dancing around like a child?” I scoffed.
He shook his head. “No. Happy. Unburdened.”
Then his expression grew more serious, and he dropped to his knees on the cushion beside me. “I know we promised to only talk of happy things,” he said impulsively. “But tell me what worries you, Ruya? What make you so sad?”
Maybe it was the result of the music and dancing. Maybe it was the lingering effects of consuming fae food and drink…but for some reason, I really did want to tell him all my problems. Who knew? Maybe Cicely could help me somehow. Maybe he was serious about being my friend. Serious enough to defy Odell and risk his place in the fae clan.
I found myself telling him all about my life with The Order of the Triple Moon. About the abuse and lies. And about how Sanka had come to steal a healing artifact and had ended up saving me instead.
“At least,” I said slowly, trying to sift through my memory of events as a strange lethargy slipped over me. “That’s what I thought at first, you know? That they had saved me.”
Warm fingers brushed my hair back from my eyes as Cicely sprawled out beside me, propped up on one elbow. “But that changed? Did these healing powers of yours not work the way they had hoped?”
I frowned. Wait. I hadn’t told him about my healing powers…had I? I giggled. “Oh, they worked. But that’s just the point, isn’t it? Were they just being nice to me because I’m useful? Did anyone in Robin’s court ever see me? Or did they only ever see a tool, someone to be coddled and appeased so she would keep being agreeable to helping them?”
I remembered a world of blue, the way the blurry color of pixie blood had coated everything the night Yukio almost died. It was dangerous being a rebel. It certainly couldn’t hurt to have a powerful healer on hand. I had healed Robin. Then I had proved to her just how valuable I was, the night I saved the dying pixie. And if she decided not to keep me around, well…Odell had mentioned that Robin planned to sell me. I didn’t know what the truth was anymore.
Cicely trailed a playful finger down my bare arm, his green eyes watching me with something like sympathy. “You don’t like touch, you said so the first time we met. Is it to do with your power? Or did those unaligned…do something to you?”
I shuddered under his light touch, feeling a little too warm, my skin a little too tight. My hand met his, our fingers tangling together. “It’s…no, they didn’t hurt me.”
I remembered Sanka’s scorching kisses. The press of his hard body to mine. Was that all just one more way to appease me and keep me happy so I’d stay there with his court? My magic surged under my skin, wanting to reach out to Cicely, but I managed to shove it back down. No. I couldn’t let him know what I was capable of.
Why was I even telling him all this? I shouldn’t trust anyone. Hadn’t I already learned that lesson too many times? But I felt feverish. And he was so handsome, his golden, boyish good looks something I normally wouldn’t be able to enjoy this way in the waking world, with my lack of sight. I released his hand and reached up to trace his chiseled jaw, my fingertips trailing over his full lower lip as the dream world outside the gazebo blurred out of focus. “What’s happening right now?” I murmured.
He caught my hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “You smell amazing,” he said, his eyes fluttering closed as he dragged his nose up the inside of my arm. “What is this scent?”
I froze in horror. Oh. Oh, no. How long had I been with the fae? Martina said my omega heat would come in cycles. That it might be irregular and unpredictable the first few months. Was that what was going on?
Cicely’s eyes opened again, and his gaze was riveted on me. “Ruya,” he said softly, his voice a bit deeper and more serious than it had ever been before, his grip on my wrist tightening ever so slightly. “Are you…an omega?”
I blinked up at him. My mind felt dulled. My reactions slow. My thoughts tangled up. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to run away. I wanted to beg for help. What would Odell do with the knowledge of what I was?
I opened and closed my mouth, watching in fascination as Cicely’s bright green eyes focused on my lips. “This is only a dream,” I reminded myself. Or him. Maybe both of us. “It’s just a dream, so you can’t really feel my magic or…whatever.”
He took a slow, measured breath. “We’re more connected than a normal dream would allow. My magic allows a tangible bit of us to be together—a slip of your aura, a tendril of your soul, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
I ran a hand through my hair and sat up. I had to get ahold of myself. Fae magic, heat, or just Cicely’s natural charm, I had to stop this madness before I just told him every damned secret I had.
He sat up beside me. “It’s okay, Ruya,” he said with one of his soft, boyish smiles. “I won’t hurt you. And you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to. I know I’m a stranger to you still.” He sounded a little sad, maybe hurt that I didn’t trust him.
I shook my head, some part of me still wanting to share all my burdens. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to say who knows what—and let out a sudden, high-pitched wail. My hands went to my head, the heels pressing into my temples as images, thoughts, and impressions flew through my mind, all accompanied by a deep, aching sadness that could only be relieved by giving voice to it. I opened my mouth again, moaning, the sound almost like a wailing song. But it had no words. Except one. The name of someone meant to die. A quick, coldly calculating mind. A determination to prove his worth above all others. The sure, emotionless underpinnings of a sociopath. Yet he had been an innocent child once, long ago.
Odell.
I don’t know how long the episode lasted, but I came to panting, only slowly becoming aware of the warm, strong arm around me and the way my face was pressed against sun-kissed skin that smelled like fresh grass and sweet wine. Cicely. He was holding me as I rode out the last shudders of that nightmare within a dream, my face pressed to the juncture of his shoulder and throat. His big hands gripped my bare arms. Our skin pressed together wherever it was exposed.
I jerked back suddenly, breaking the connection between us. Stopping the healing flow of my magic that had been pouring into the faun, healing every cell in his body.
He smiled as if he hadn’t felt a thing. But the warm, easygoing expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you okay now, Ruya?” He chuckled. “Whatever that was, it was startling, huh? But sometimes people’s minds do strange things in dreams. Do you want to talk to Odell? You kept calling for him?”
I wrapped my arm around myself. “I want to wake up,” I said, panic swelling inside me. Cicely knew what I could do. And Odell was probably going to die. Maybe. I had no idea how the weird visions worked, but that seemed to be how it went so far.
The faun gave me a concerned look that I absolutely didn’t trust. “Ruya? Is there anything I can do to help?”
I sneered at him. “Stop it. Just stop it! I know you’re lying to me. This is all a lie. This whole friend thing. I want to wake up now.”
He looked down at his hands, which rested in his lap, his shoulders slumping. “Is that really what you think, Ruya? After all the time we’ve spent together? After all the joy we’ve shared?”
I stared at him as the dream started to fade. I thought I was waking up. But no. The day around us grew dark, blue-black clouds rolling in and thunder rumbling. Fat, heavy raindrops started to fall, and lightning flashed as Cicely lifted his head and met my eyes. “What is the unaligned shifter’s goal?” he asked, his voice flat and his expression hard. “Tell me, Ruya witch. Don’t make me do this. Please.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Empty threats. It’s just a dream.”
He actually looked sad as he glanced out at the rainy landscape beyond the gazebo. I followed his gaze, my breath catching in my throat at the sight of the tornado funnel forming far too close for comfort. The wind whipped through the gazebo, sending the unoccupied cushions tumbling. My hair and clothes whipped about my face while Cicely was untouched. I watched in horror as trees began to uproot and the roar of the wind and debris became almost deafening.
“Please, Ruya,” he said tiredly. “Save us both the nightmare. What is Robin doing? Why is she living as an unaligned when she is clearly sought after by the syndicate? What power is she hiding? What does she really want?”
I ground my teeth together. “It’s only a dream,” I hissed.
Then my vision was gone, reduced from its dream-enhanced clarity to my usual limited light and shadow blur. I couldn’t see the world around me anymore, but it still raged. The thunder of the approaching tornado sounded like a train headed right toward us. Something crashed to the ground beside me, and the floor of the gazebo shuddered. Bits of grit and debris stung my skin and the force of the wind pulled at me, like the eager, careless fingers of some giant creature intent on dragging me away.
I couldn’t see, and that change, after the vision Cicely had gifted me, was jarring. I flailed for something to hang onto, bumping and bruising my arms and hands as I tried to find the gazebo’s railing. I soon realized it had been smashed by a falling tree, ripped away into the void of the tornado the same way I was about to be.
“What does Robin want?” Cicely’s shout reached my ears somehow through all the howling. “Tell me what she wants and this all ends. You don’t have to live through this nightmare, Ruya.”
I gripped at a shattered piece of wood and splinters cut into my palms, the pain too real for a dream. The wind ripped me off my feet. I tried to hold on, to tell myself it was only a dream. But the violent winds snatched me away like I weighed nothing, my muscles pulling and skin tearing as I tried to hang on and failed. I was cast into a nightmare of darkness, pelted with rocks, and dirt, and debris. The crushing pressure of the wind stole the air from my lungs and made me feel as if I was being squeezed, squished like an insignificant bug.
I tried to tell myself it was only a dream. All in my mind. But the fear was just too much. My instincts were all screaming at me that I was about to die.
“What does Robin want?” The question echoed in my mind as my skin felt like it was being scoured from my body by the gritty wind.
“Revenge!” I screamed into the void, the pain and pressure too much to take. “She wants revenge, and I will sing your death song right along with the entire syndicate’s when she finally achieves it!”
I woke by myself in my room. I drew in great, sobbing breaths, as if I couldn’t get enough air. As if the crushing pressure of the demon wind had followed me into the waking world. But it hadn’t. I was fine.
The pressure I felt crushing me now wasn’t from the storm. It was pure terror over what I had just done. Cicely knew all about my powers. He had witnessed my healing firsthand. He knew about my premonitions, and suspected I was an omega. And I had just told him that Robin was out for revenge against the entire syndicate.
“What have I done?” I whispered to myself, scrubbing my hands over my face. I would never be free now that Odell knew what I could do.
Another thought filled me with guilt as well. I might not trust Robin’s motives toward me, but I couldn’t bring myself to wish her and the others harm. And if the syndicate knew she was out to undermine them…from everything I’d learned recently, I fully believed they would kill the dragon princess and her entire rebel court.
I had just ensured my slavery and Robin, Sanka, Martina, Yukio, and Dusek’s deaths. Weak. I was so weak and useless. Just like The Mother always said. I should have stayed locked away in that pocket world where Sanka had found me.
A knock at the door interrupted my downward spiral. The maid who fed me entered, accompanied by two others. “King Odell requests your presence at dinner,” the maid informed me in her same eerily cheery voice.
I numbly let them manhandle me into a new flouncy dress, but I stubbornly held onto whatever tenuous grip on my magic I could muster. The fae might know all my secrets now, but I’d be damned if every person in the place was just going to steal my magic with a touch. But my nerves were frayed, and I might be starting to go into my heat cycle. I’d only had a short time to practice control before I was brought here. I couldn’t stop a small trickle of magic leaking from me whenever someone touched my skin.
I lifted my chin and let myself be led to dine with the fae king. I had no idea how long it had taken me to wake up after that nightmare. But apparently, it had given Cicely more than enough time to report back to his master. Now we’d see how Odell intended to use me. And why I’d seen his death in my little episode in the dream world. Who knew? Maybe I’d get lucky and murder him with a butter knife at dinner before he could use me. I was sure stranger things had happened.