The sound was so piercing that the air itself seemed to shatter. My first reaction was panic—there was no possibility that the copper-haired faerie couldn’t hear it—but then Damon fell to his knees. He was still screaming. Now I rushed forward without hesitation. My brother shied away from me, and I merely knelt and wrapped my arms around him. After another moment of resistance, the strength seemed to go out of him and he went silent. Damon slumped, tremors wracking his body. I rocked him back and forth, making meaningless noises as I did for Cyrus. I was dimly aware of Laurie saying something, probably a warning. It didn’t matter.
“Oh, Damon,” I whispered. He had always been thin, but the person resting against me was so gaunt, one gust of wind could blow him away. I glanced at the passageway, terrified that the copper-haired faerie was coming. Somehow, though, he must not have heard the commotion; he would’ve been here by now.
“Do whatever you want to me,” he moaned. Tears streamed from his eyes and left gleaming rivers. One fell into my skirt and lingered on a strand of web. “Feast on my pain. Bathe in it. I’m yours. Do you want me to beg? Would you like that?”
Every word felt like a knife going into my stomach. I leaned back so Damon could see me—silently I cursed Laurie for talking me into this ridiculous makeup—and cupped his damp cheeks. I spoke firmly. “He isn’t here, Damon. It’s only me. I’m real.”
Just as quickly as he’d succumbed to despair, rage overtook him. Damon shoved at my shoulders. He was stronger than he looked, and my spine hit the wall. I winced. “Prove it, then!” he spat. “Show me you’re not just another trick or illusion. That I’m not losing my mind.”
His narrow chest heaved. For the first time, I realized I no longer knew what my brother was capable of. Two years would change any person. Two years enduring what Damon had … I’d been a fool to think that he would come easily or be excited to see me.
Hoping Laurie would have an idea, I searched the darkness. There was no sign of him. I was on my own, then. Fine. What would convince me a long-lost sibling was real, if I were in Damon’s position?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. This was why I hated faeries. Mom and Dad may have taught us to accept every kind of creature, but I knew better. My hands became fists, and I forced myself to quell the anger rising within me. Damon was more important, and I needed to be level-headed for him. We were also sitting ducks in the open like this.
“He’s made you see things? Showed you horrible things?” I asked evenly.
Damon had one hand on the door, as though he was about to dart back inside. His eyes looked bottomless in the flickering light. “I saw you dying,” he told me in a voice twisted with anguish. “I saw Mom getting … assaulted. I saw Dad being torn apart by wolves. Every time I tried to leave or whenever I talked about going home, the images filled my head. It was as real as any nightmare we could inflict.”
At his words, unwelcome visions forced their way into my own head. I blinked rapidly and made an effort to focus. It wasn’t much better; the tortured man was such a contrast from the boy I used to know. I swallowed a lump in my throat before continuing. “So this could be another game. A way to give you hope and take it away again. I get why you don’t want to let yourself believe, and I’m proud of you for surviving this long.”
Silence hovered around us. But there was a spark in his gaze, a glimpse of the old Damon. Maybe the fae hadn’t completely broken him. Encouraged, I pressed on.
“What did Dad teach us, huh? Never make a promise that you can’t keep. Nightmares may be lies, but we don’t have to be liars. That’s what he always said.” I held out my hand. Never mind that we’d already touched; somehow, this was the one that mattered. “I promise that this won’t turn out to be a trick. I promise that if you take my hand, it’ll be solid. And not just in your mind. You need to be brave one more time, little brother. Take one more chance.”
Damon appraised me. Years went by in the shadowy passageway. Finally he drew nearer, keeping his gaze on my face. His bare feet made soft sounds on the stones. As though he were a wounded animal, I stayed very still. Damon reached out, and there was a visible tremor in his fingers. Twice he stopped. His breath came in short gasps and a fine sheen of sweat dotted his forehead. At last, his fingertips settled on the center of my palm. I didn’t dare move or speak.
When nothing happened—I didn’t vanish into a puff of smoke or transform into his captor—Damon looked at me with wonder. “Fortuna? You’re really here?” he breathed.
Words were impossible; I could only nod. Damon’s grip tightened, like someone taking hold as they dangled off an impossibly high edge. We met halfway and embraced fiercely. Hot tears sprang to my eyes. I buried my face in Damon’s neck to hide them. I’d forgotten what this felt like. Being touched, being held. My brother’s smell surrounded me, so familiar and dear. A thousand memories slammed into me. So many Christmases, countless arguments, laugh-filled games. Never again, I thought. I’m never going to lose you again.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I said through my teeth.
Slowly, Damon pulled away. I released him with obvious reluctance, knowing it was for the best. We’d already wasted too much time. But Damon didn’t ask me about an escape plan or any of the other questions I would’ve expected out of his mouth. “You shouldn’t have come, Fortuna,” he said instead. The torchlight cast half of Damon’s features into shadow. In the half I could see, the earlier wariness in his expression had returned.
I squeezed his hands in reassurance, thinking of how much he’d been through. “Don’t worry, I have friends in high places. That’s where I got this ridiculous getup. So nothing will happen to us, okay?”
Damon’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what do you …” I trailed off as comprehension began to dawn.
I’m yours. That’s what Damon had said when he believed I was his captor, his voice ringing with a truth that I’d been too distracted to hear. In a burst of awful clarity, I understood. It hadn’t been fear in his eyes as he watched the copper-haired faerie depart; it was awe. My mind went even farther back to the awful scene I’d witnessed in the mirror. Now the tears that I’d thought were pain had a sense of longing. He’d been staring at the door. Waiting, I had thought, in fear of his tormentor’s return. But what if had been in anticipation?
Something sour and acrid rose in my throat. This was Stockholm syndrome, it had to be. I focused on Damon again and tried to sound logical, despite the panic shredding my insides to ribbons. “Damon, he’s a faerie of the Unseelie Court. You’re under his influence. You may not want to leave now, but once you’ve spent a few days at home, you’ll start to—”
“His name is Jassin,” Damon interrupted.
I couldn’t bear to put a name to the creature that had imprisoned and broken my brother. “What about Savannah?” I demanded. There was an edge of desperation in my voice now, impossible to conceal. “That kind of love doesn’t just go away, I know it doesn’t. When you disappeared, she did everything to find you. Spells, posters, radio interviews, search parties. She needs you to come home just as much as I do.”
I’d been so certain the mention of his girlfriend would bring reason back to Damon’s clouded eyes. But he just shook his head and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
In all my imaginings of how this would go, it never occurred to me that Damon would be unwilling to leave. If logic had no effect, then manipulation and force were the only options. I thought of the bargain between me and Collith. However trapped and resentful it made me feel, it had worked. “Fine,” I said. “It’s your turn to prove something. If you’re not being manipulated by his power, you’ll come home. Tonight. Then, if you still want to return to the Unseelie Court after a week or so, I won’t stop you.”
Saying the words made me feel dirty, as though a layer of grime covered my skin. I’d only been married to Collith a few hours and I was already acting more like him. Was it the result of the bond between us, or my own doing?
Damon didn’t even react. “I love him, Fortuna,” he said simply, as if anything were that simple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Words failed me again. I stood there, searching Damon’s expression for any sign or tell. Maybe this was all a lie; he could be trying to communicate in some other way. But nothing moved or changed in his face, and all I could see was regret shining from his eyes. Not regret for his choice—just for hurting me.
The only sound between us came from a nearby torch. Its flame wavered and sputtered. It didn’t go out, though. I looked away from the soft light to meet Damon’s gaze again. My resolve hardened. Self-loathing rolled in my stomach as I played the last card I had. “What about your promise to Mom?”
Damon blanched.
So much changed for both of us that day. Despite how much time had passed, every moment was still vivid. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I was back there, sitting in that dim room. The faint smell of medicine in the air and the barest beginnings of morning filtering through the curtains. When young Damon had woken up in the hospital bed, and I saw that he would truly be all right, sobs racked my body. I buried my face in the covers and cried. After a few minutes I lifted my face, took Damon’s small hand in mine, and made a watery vow. “From now on, I’ll be a better sister. I’ll take care of you. Promise.”
“I’ll take care of you, too,” my brother had rasped. There was no hesitation in his reply. He turned to Mom, who knelt on his other side. Somehow he understood, even then, that saying the words to her had more weight. “Promise.”
Three weeks later, she was dead.
Though I’d never asked, I knew it was probably one of Damon’s last memories of her. And here I was exploiting it, something that should’ve been sacred and untouched forever.
But my brother didn’t let his pain become anger, as I would have. Instead, Damon Sworn touched my cheek. There was infinite tenderness in the gesture, and it was just more proof that he was indisputably a better person than I would ever be— something I’d accepted long ago. “You’re right. We did promise,” he murmured. A sad smile curved his lips.
“So let me keep it,” I begged, trapping his hand against my face.
“Don’t you see? This is a blessing. You’re free, big sister,” Damon insisted. “There’s someone else to look after me now. You don’t have to worry anymore.”
“No, that’s not how a promise works.” There was a tremor in my voice and I faltered. There in the lovely darkness, which guarded so many secrets and fears, another truth emerged. “And who’s going to look after me?”
“Oh, Fortuna. Do I really need to tell you how resilient you are? How brave and strong? I was so jealous of that when we were growing up. But regardless of you or Jassin, I can’t go back. We just don’t belong up there. We never did.” Suddenly Damon’s eyes lit up. He grabbed the back of my neck with his free hand. “You should stay! No more hiding. No more shame. In the Unseelie Court, we can be a family again!”
Speechless, I could only stare at him. It was like arguing with a madman. I’d tried reasoning and manipulation—it was time to resort to other methods. In a burst of frustration, I yanked away and searched the dark again. “Collith?” I muttered. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing happened.
I repeated his name, more forcefully this time, despite the risk of someone else hearing it instead. Damon’s brow wrinkled in bewilderment. Then his eyes shifted slightly. They widened. In an instant, he prostrated himself in the dirt. Exasperated, I turned to face Collith, whose presence I’d already felt. It filled the passageway like water. His face was hidden in shadow and he was oddly silent. Aggravated by Damon’s reaction—clearly the faeries had warped his mind so much that he now believed they were gods—I raised my brows at Collith. “Took you long enough,” I snapped. “Will you please help me get Damon to the surface?”
Just as I started to face my brother again, ready for his resistance, Collith spoke. “I can’t do that, Fortuna.”
I paused. Damon still hadn’t moved, and my instincts came alive, speculating and urging in a burst of whispers. Slowly, I turned again. Collith didn’t step forward, but apparently I didn’t need to see his expression to sense what he was feeling. It was there, alongside my own, like two veins running through the same arm. He was experiencing … guilt. “I beg your pardon?” I asked, trying to hide my dread. Don’t make me regret trusting you. Don’t play me for a fool. Don’t betray me.
“He said he can’t help you, my dear.”
The voice was coldly amused, and I went rigid. My fear filled the air, stronger than any perfume. Even before I saw him, I knew who it was. Jassin leaned against the wall like a languid cat. Maybe it was his smile or how still he stood, but in that instant, I knew he’d been watching us the entire time. “I’m taking my brother home,” I snarled, finding my own voice again.
Jassin straightened and brushed imaginary specks of dirt off his coat. He sauntered closer. “Unfortunately, I’m not feeling generous today. Although I may be willing to give you a good fuck, since it seems Collith hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”
I felt my lip curl with disgust. I looked down at Damon, wondering what he thought of his lover’s comments. My brother remained on the ground, silent and trembling. This is the one you love? I wanted to ask him. Instead I lifted my chin and met the faerie’s gaze. His eyes had a distinctly feline tilt to them, and they shone gold in the torchlight. “Go to hell.”
“Haven’t you heard?” Jassin leaned close. He smelled like everything tempting and addictive. Like chocolate. Like sex. “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.”
Though he didn’t touch me, it felt like someone had run their finger along the ridges of my spine. He had power, there was no denying it. I retaliated with false bravado. “Satan came to my christening, little boy. Stay out of my way, or I’ll make you piss in your fancy clothes.”
The faerie made a sound deep in his throat, almost like a purr. He glanced toward my mate. “She’s exquisite, Collith, I’ll give you that. And you’ve even dressed her for the part.”
“What’s going on here? Why aren’t you doing anything?” I demanded, also focusing on the other faerie in the passageway. Throughout our exchange, he hadn’t said a word. Was he that weak? Had his display of power been an illusion? At least it’s finally clear why he married you, a cruel voice whispered.
“You didn’t know?” Jassin asked incredulously. Apparently it was a rhetorical question, because he threw his head back and laughed.
Once again, I looked to Collith. Confusion and fear warred inside me, and I resisted reaching for Dad’s knife. “What is he talking about?”
Before he could reply, Jassin wiped his tears away and said, “They will write songs about you, Fortuna Sworn. Oh, how they’ll laugh and sing. You’ll be a legend. The female who married the King of the Unseelie Court and didn’t even know it.”