As we drew closer to the throne room, I thought of Oliver.
We’d never gone so long without speaking, and I felt his absence keenly. As a child, he was part of everything I did, waking or asleep. My foster parents had dismissed this strange behavior, labeling Oliver an ‘imaginary friend.’ I’d grow out of it, they told themselves. But every night I rushed to bed, eager to tell the very real friend—well, real to me, at least—about what I’d done and seen that day.
There were only two occasions a night passed without us seeing each other. Once was when I was fourteen and my appendix burst. I woke in the hospital, groggy and disoriented. The drugs they’d given me had been so powerful that all I remembered between that vivid burst of pain to awakening was darkness.
The second occasion was years later. I was seventeen and it was the anniversary of my parents’ murders. In the basement of a boy I barely knew, I tried cocaine for the first time. I fell asleep on his stained, scratchy couch, and my slumber was restless and sporadic. Whatever dreams I had were brief and fragmented; I didn’t even remember them when I woke up. The cushions were covered in sweat. Soon after that my brother burst into the room, declaring that he was taking me home.
He’d missed his prom to spend the night looking for me.
It was after this incident that I had the courage to ask Oliver how it worked. Our meetings, that is. Did he summon me? Did I just appear?
“I wait for you,” he’d said simply, turning his head to meet my gaze. A blade of grass tickled his cheek. “I’m always waiting for you.”
Suddenly a scream echoed through the tunnels.
It jarred me from the bittersweet memory, and I forced my mind back to the present. I faltered, looking around, but there was only dirt walls and flickering torches. Laurie still walked beside me, and he seemed unconcerned by the sound. I remembered this was the Unseelie Court, the place where screams and pain thrived. Slowly, I resumed walking again. I thought of Damon in the mirror and how the scene had looked like he was being held unwillingly. Nothing was what it seemed here. I could very well run to save whoever it was making that sound, only to find that my attempts at rescue weren’t welcome.
But what if, this time, they were?
The thought caused knots in my stomach. I longed for a distraction. Laurie hadn’t attempted any conversation during our trek, though, so I decided to familiarize myself with the passages instead. As I noted yesterday, there was no pattern or reason to them. I was about to ask Laurie how he could possibly know the way when a tall figure appeared up ahead.
My thoughts dissipated like smoke. As promised, the king stood near the doors. Sound poured from the wide opening, a cacophony of voices and laughter. Collith was deep in conversation with a guard. The uniformed faerie was not the one who’d struck me or dragged me into the darkness, but the sight of him still made my anxiety leap. Collith must have sensed this through the bond, because he turned his head and spotted me. His gaze softened.
I began to walk toward him, but Laurie stopped at the mouth of the passageway. Gently, he extracted his arm from mine. Half his face was hidden in shadow and I couldn’t see his eyes. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked, frowning.
The faerie shook his bright head. “No, but I’ll be nearby. If you’d like, we can come up with a signal. I’ll see it and assist in whatever way I can.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
He grinned, revealing perfect teeth. “You could pick your nose. Or start shrieking.”
“We might need something more subtle,” I replied dryly.
Laurie chuckled and melted into the darkness.
Butterflies rioted in my stomach. I took a breath and faced Collith again. He stood very, very still, as though I were a wild horse that could spook at any moment. For what felt like the millionth time, we studied each other. The golden threads of his coat glimmered. His back was straight. His boots were shining leather. The crown rested on his curls as though it had always been there. Every inch of him was regal … except for that single, stubborn lock of hair.
For some reason, this small detail was comforting. I forced myself to approach. Once I was close enough Collith opened his mouth, probably to tell me how beautiful I looked, but I felt like I was about to vomit. “Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, snatching hold of his arm. The guard fell into step behind us. Collith offered no protests, and a second later, we walked over the threshold. I almost gasped at the sight that greeted us.
The room was transformed.
Drapes of red silk entwined the columns. There were flowers everywhere—splashes of vibrant color in the corners, on the floor, hanging overhead. Over a dozen long tables stretched across the open space. It had been dim before, but now it was ablaze with light. Braziers made of black bronze stood at the end of each table. The legs were three sculpted males holding the coals aloft. Bowls of incense also burned on every surface, creating thin columns of smoke that rose toward the ceiling.
The fae had dressed for the occasion. Like the last time I’d seen them, their styles were a bizarre combination of modern, archaic, and created from nature. A faerie that reached my stomach in height wore a mask of green leaves. One female looked like she was ready to see a heavy metal concert. Even more cultures were present than there’d been at the tribunal. I spotted clothing and faces that were Mexican, Indian, Chinese.
Humans were scattered throughout the crowd, carrying overflowing pitchers of wine. They were easily discernible from their ragged clothing or expressions. While several looked dreamy— content to waste their too-short lives down here—many were clearly terrified.
Rich scents filled the air, making my mouth water. Heaps of food littered the wide surfaces. Fresh bread with honey rolling down the sides. Platters of roasted pig resting atop beds of sprigs and nuts. Steaming vegetables. Ripe fruit. As I watched, a female sucked grease off her fingers and let out a long belch. Suddenly the tray of food I’d eaten wasn’t enough. Collith allowed me to gape for a minute before tugging me forward.
It didn’t take long for our arrival to be noticed. Gazes swung our way and conversations halted. Many hurried to clear the path. I didn’t know where to look; I was avoiding that gnarled tree and the crowd. Eventually my eyes settled on the throne. It loomed ancient and large. I wondered how high a price each king had paid to sit in it. How high a price Collith had paid.
My anxiety was so overwhelming that, for a moment or two, I’d forgotten why Collith wanted me to come in the first place. The reminder came in the form of a faerie whose blond hair nearly touched the floor. I knew the exact moment she spotted the necklace I wore; her pale eyes widened. She leaned over to whisper to the blue-skinned nymph beside her, who in turn, whispered to someone at her left.
Shock rippled through the room. Murmurs and stares began to follow us. Gazes zero in on the sapphire. Collith’s expression remained as neutral as ever, and I wished I had his composure. My insides felt jittery. Every instinct screamed to run. The marks they’d bestowed upon me came alive, aching with remembered pain. Would my newly-revealed position as Collith’s mate offer some protection? Or would it just put me in more danger?
After an eternity, we reached the dais. I waited for Collith to approach the great chair, but he remained by my side. He faced the crowd and spoke in Enochian. The cadence of his voice rose and fell dramatically. He gestured toward the grand doors—no, the drawings on the wall beyond them—and said a name. Olorel.
Moments after he finished, the entire court spoke in unison. Their words had the feel of something that had been said countless times before. It was rhythmic and, however much I hated to admit it, beautiful. Then a brief silence fell.
Once more, Collith was the one to breach the stillness. He launched into a second speech, and this time, he gestured to me. Was he introducing me as his mate, implying that I was under his protection? Was he offering an explanation for why he’d stood by during the tribunal yesterday? Whatever he said, it was brief and final. As if they’d been under a spell, everyone moved all at once. Their conversations resumed and most turned away. Music weaved through the tables. The tight sensation in my chest loosened and breathing became easier.
“Well met, Fortuna Sworn.”
Tensing again, I turned toward the new voice. It was the dark-skinned male that had been part of the council. One of the faeries that had deemed it fitting to whip me until I was half-dead. He bowed, his bald head gleaming from the nearby candles. At this proximity, I could see that every inch of his skin was covered in intricate tattoos. The lines were so fine that they were easy to miss. He wore the same expression he had when they’d declared their judgment. Polite. Interested. As though my whipping had been a conversation with a stranger. Just like that, I was tied to the tree again, biting my lip so hard that I could taste blood.
When I said nothing, the faerie spoke again. The deep timbre of his voice wrapped around me. “I am Tarragon of the bloodline Ettrian.”
Collith inclined his head. “Well met, Tarragon.”
It felt like he was speaking on my behalf, and if I’d had hackles, they would be standing on end. All at once I found my voice. “What the hell do you want?” I snarled. Fear gave way to fury. New visions swam before me—a whip in my own hand, the lashes striking out like a dozen snakes, tearing into this creature’s flesh as it had torn mine.
If the faerie was offended by this, he didn’t show it. He refocused his gold-lined eyes on my face. “You did well during the tribunal,” he commented.
My lip curled. “How so? By not dying?”
“You did not allow us to break you. We do so love our broken things.”
“Thank you for your kind words, Tarragon,” Collith interjected. He turned to me, effectively ending the conversation. “May I have this dance?”
Tarragon bowed to the king and nodded at me. I stared back, longing to know what fears lurked beneath his skin. The faerie’s eyes gleamed as if he could hear my thoughts. With another graceful bow, he retreated. The jewelry around his ankles jangled. I’ll remember you, I thought.
Collith untangled our arms and put some space between us. He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
Just as I was about to respond, a female walked past us. Her glance raked over the king with undeniable lust. A moment later, she fixed it on me. The lust didn’t fade. A wolf followed close behind her, its ribs poking out beneath ragged, gray fur. It was connected to the female by a chain, which clinked against the flagstones. A werewolf, judging from its size. Somehow they’d forced it to remain in animal form. If too much time passed, it wouldn’t be able to change back. It would forget who it had been.
My fingers flexed, tempted to reach out and touch the female who held it prisoner. This one was actually within reach …
Suddenly Collith pulled me close. It was obvious what he was doing; I didn’t even bother to look at him. Did he truly think I would be so easily distracted? I watched the female go with narrowed eyes. I’ll remember you, too, I thought. Only when she was swallowed up by the crowd did I turn my attention to Collith. I waited for a reprimand or a warning.
But he didn’t say a word. Instead, he continued to wait for my response. His grip was so loose, I could pull away without any effort. He was giving me a choice.
Instinct urged me to reject him, embarrass him in front of everyone in this court. But there was also … curiosity. I’d been in a pattern for years, going to the same places, saying the same words, making the same choices. So I allowed myself to remain there, in the circle of his arms. Thankfully Collith accepted this as an answer, because I couldn’t seem to give him one.
Maybe he gave the players some kind of cue; the music suddenly intensified. Collith gave me no chance to hesitate or feel uncertain. His grip tightened and he went through the steps artlessly, somehow making it feel like a joint effort. The classical instruments were accompanied with an eerie—but lovely— chorus. I craned my neck to find the source of the voices. Three females stood higher than the rest, standing on a small platform. Their bare toes peeked out from gowns so translucent I could see the outline of their breasts. But I hardly noticed this; their song seemed to fill every part of the room, like water.
I was so intent on them that I stumbled. Collith righted me and moved into the next step without missing a beat. At first, I watched his feet, captivated by the way they didn’t seem to touch the floor. But the dance was simple, and soon, I began to see a pattern. My heart hammered as I attempted to imitate him. I glanced up for a moment, wondering if he’d noticed. A faint smile lit his dark eyes. “Very good,” he murmured.
Now I arched my head back completely, searching his gaze, though I didn’t know what I was looking for. Against my better judgement, I found myself moving with him. Matching him step for step, enjoying the music sliding through me. We clasped hands, let go, locked eyes. Did it all over again. There were so many colors, so many other creatures surrounding us, but for the first time in my life I understood what it felt like to feel the rest of the world fade. Overhead, small lights bobbed, unattached to wires or walls. Magic.
Once more, the music changed without warning. The gentle strums of a harp drifted through the room. A young boy stepped forward and raised a penny whistle to his mouth. It didn’t seem possible that such a tiny instrument should echo through the entire room. There was something ethereal about the sound. I tore my attention from the small figure and looked up at Collith, certain in what I was about to say next.
“This is why you were in such a rush to bring me to Court,” I murmured. “You wanted me to feel this. Before I found out the truth.”
“It’s like a flower growing amongst the wreckage. Something beautiful hidden in the ugliness.” His voice lowered. “Worth saving, don’t you think?”
An automatic, scornful reply rose to my lips. For the umpteenth time, Oliver’s voice in my head stopped me. Be patient. Learn their weaknesses, he’d said. Collith cared about these creatures. That was his vulnerability. I tucked the information away for later contemplation. “Maybe,” I allowed. For a time, we danced in silence. There was so much to look at, so much to learn, but I saw none of it. I seemed only capable of staring at our clasped hands, wondering at the warmth. Trying so hard not to acknowledge the desire crackling between us like invisible lightning.
“Who is Ollie?”
The question made my gaze snap back to Collith’s. I hadn’t heard someone speak that name out loud in years. It felt as though my deepest secret had been exposed—I must’ve spoken in my sleep. The only emotion I could detect in Collith’s expression was curiosity, but I knew better. He was searching for any cracks, any weaknesses he could exploit, same as I had been. Between us, he was the better opponent; I knew so little about him.
Unbidden, I thought of that bookshelf in his room, heavy with mystery novels. Maybe I was learning some things after all.
“I’m thirsty,” I said stiffly, pulling my hands from his. “Is there anything here that’s safe to drink?”
“Allow me,” the king replied with a bow. A nearby female dressed entirely in ivy stared, open-mouthed, as if she’d never seen him do this before. Either oblivious to her or adept at ignoring others, Collith nodded at someone behind me. I turned and discovered the guard he’d been speaking to earlier. He wore heavy-looking furs around his shoulders, claws dangling off its edges. His face would be considered pretty—flawless skin, rosebud lips, blue eyes—were it not for a slightly aquiline nose. His hair was the color of sand, and in dreadlocks, though these were scraped back into a half ponytail. There was something familiar about him. Had he been at the tribunal?
“This is my Right Hand, Nuvian,” Collith added, probably noticing my frown. “He commands the Guardians. He would also lead in my stead, if something were to prevent me from doing so. Come.”
Still reeling from the mention of Oliver, I let him lead me to the edge of the dancing. The stoic-faced guard followed. A wordless communication passed between them, then Collith went off to get my drink. Nuvian rested his hands on the hilt of his sword and looked back at me. His skin was ruddy, as though he’d spent too much time beneath the sun. Unusual for a faerie. His eyes were a vivid blue, like ice at daybreak.
I was about to ask him whether we’d met before when there was a rush of cool air at my neck. I whipped around. A faerie drew back; she’d been blowing on me. “Do you need something?” I asked, hoping she didn’t see the bumps rising along my skin.
The female had somehow secured feathers to her eyelids, giving them the appearance of lashes. She blinked, slow and deliberate. “So you’re the one that finally snared our handsome king,” she remarked. Her unnaturally white hair gleamed in the light from a nearby brazier.
We were being watched; some were subtle about eavesdropping, while others blatantly turned in our direction. I spotted an effeminate male dancing closer, closer, his expression sharp and curious. He caught me staring and grinned. The red lipstick he wore smeared on his slightly yellowed teeth. “I didn’t tame anyone,” I muttered, averting my gaze.
The female acted as though I hadn’t spoken. “I wonder why he considered you significant enough to mate, but not to crown?” she mused. There was a faint bite in her dulcet tone.
Just like that, something in me snapped. I’d had enough of riddles, insults, games, and this time there was no one to intervene or reasonable voices in my head. And if it earned me another tribunal, then fuck it. I’d make tonight worth it. I smiled sweetly and stepped closer to the faerie. Unease flickered across her face. “There’s a feather on your cheek. Here, let me.”
Before she could recoil, I pretended to pluck something off her face. The faerie staggered back, but it was too late. I felt my nostrils flare as her fear rolled through me. She was terrified of drowning. “Enjoy your night,” I purred. Water dribbled down her chin—or so she believed. The female watched me go with wild eyes. Unable to resist, I blew her a kiss, then turned my back. I’d find my own fucking drink.
Whatever had broken in me was like a dam. Recklessness poured through, submerging all the fear. I weaved through the crowd, touching anyone I could along the way. It was so light, so swift, that many of them had no idea. Flavors coated my tongue. One male thought he was surrounded by bees and actually ran from the room. Another faerie stared at an empty corner, his expression etched in horror. For the first time since escaping the goblins, I felt powerful. Decades ago, Nightmares were the most feared race. The fae had been unwise to forget.
If Nuvian disapproved of my behavior, he said nothing about it. He followed me like a spirit, soundless and unseen.
Collith had mentioned there were rules during their sacred holiday, but apparently restraint wasn’t one of them—I skirted around two faeries having sex in the space between two tables. She was on her hands and knees, crying out again and again. Her breasts jiggled from the violence of the movements. Part of me wanted to linger, but I flushed and hurried past.
As I continued making my way toward the far wall, I realized Collith and I been dancing longer than it seemed; the food on the tables had been picked over. The floor was covered in scraps. The fae were wild and sloppy, as if they’d been drinking for hours. Laughter and music echoed in my ears. I reached for another faerie, intending to slide my fingers along her arm.
“Fortuna,” someone said. It was almost lost in the din.
At the sound of that voice, I forgot about the faerie. I turned so quickly it was dizzying. Damon stood there, dressed in royal blue, his clothing like something from the Victorian era. His too-long hair had been brushed. He looked like a pretty doll. But his cheeks were still hollow, his skin too pale. There wasn’t enough makeup in the world to hide it. I stood there, dumbfounded and brokenhearted, trying to reconcile this man to the boy who’d missed his prom to go searching for me.
As I stared, Damon pulled me into a rough hug. It was so unexpected that I froze. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear.
“For what?” I managed. Something was happening to me; the flavors from my victims were gone and my tongue felt thick and dry. It occurred between one breath and the next. Had I been poisoned? Bespelled?
“I couldn’t stop it. The whipping was the best I could do. Jassin wanted to take your fingers.” There was a note of pleading in my brother’s voice. He stepped back and clutched my hands. “But I changed his mind. You see? There’s some good in him.”
Oh, Damon. How they’ve broken you. His logic was so twisted that I didn’t know where to begin. Something else caught my attention, though; the fact that my brother had somehow changed Jassin’s mind. I knew enough about how this world worked that suspicion took root. “What did you offer him in return?” I asked, struggling to keep my eyes on Damon’s face, which was going hazy.
Air. I needed air.
He looked away. The movement revealed something peeking out from his collar, a spot of darkness. A bruise, I realized with a sinking stomach. “I have to go,” Damon muttered. He took another step back. Someone screamed, distracting both of us. Back where the dancers were, the faerie I’d first touched was making a scene. She was on her knees, making frantic motions, as though she was trying to swim.
I turned back to Damon and dug my nails into his wrists to keep him there. He winced. “This is my vow,” I said through my teeth. “I am going to save you.”
“When will you understand? I don’t want to be saved.”
Normally I would’ve been able to stop him; I’d always been stronger than my thin-armed brother. But this time he pulled free like I was made of spider web. He hurried into the throng of revelers, and it was disconcerting how easily he disappeared among them.
There was a familiar flash of copper amidst the chaos. A moment later, I found myself glaring at Jassin. Though he didn’t look in my direction, I sensed that he felt the heat of my focus. With one pale hand, he cupped the back of Damon’s head—not tenderly, but aggressively, as one does a favorite toy—and kissed him. The sight filled me with such loathing that I didn’t know whether to vomit or slit the faerie’s throat.
“Are you all right?”
At long last, Collith had returned. A glass of water quivered in his hand, disturbed by every step and jostle around us. My gaze settled on his mouth. “Want to finish what we started in the woods?” I slurred.
Before he could respond, I grabbed his hand and dragged him through one of the smaller doorways. I didn’t care if anyone noticed, and apparently neither did Collith, since he followed easily enough. My eyes adjusted to the abrupt change in light, and I saw that we’d stepped into another dim passageway. This one was narrower than the others; Collith’s head almost brushed the ceiling. I kept going, seeking some kind of privacy. Some kind of escape from all those prying eyes I felt, even if I couldn’t see them. The smooth stones around us gleamed, but farther along, there was nothing but darkness. Where the light ended, I stopped, shoving Collith against a wall. “Fortuna, what did you—” he started.
I grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching it in my fist. We were almost the same height, and I found Collith’s chin instantly. As soon as our skin touched, however, the fervor eased a bit. Something mischievous and languid stole over me. I kissed that chin once, teasing, then made my way down. My progress was slow and sensuous. There was no taste to him, but he was a welcome coolness to my heat. I left a trail to the hollow of his throat, then traveled back up, eventually discovering what I’d been searching for all along.
As I claimed his mouth, Collith made a sound that opened a chasm in me. My body ached. I tried to deepen the kiss, but he resisted. Once again, he shifted as though to put some space between us. In a burst of frustration, I yanked his shirt free and sought what hid beneath. Smooth muscles greeted my fingertips. I slipped them into the waistband of his pants. What I wanted was just out of reach. I determinedly shoved my hand deeper and grasped the length of him.
At this, Collith’s control slipped. He moaned and finally opened his mouth to mine. I’d never considered myself a petite girl, but he lifted me like I weighed no more than the feather I had pretended to pluck off that female’s cheek. I linked my ankles at the base of his spine and, in response, Collith spun around until I was the one pressed to the wall. It gave me enough leverage to grind against him. He was so hard that it almost hurt to ride him through our clothing. I buried my fingers in his thick curls, and they were like silk.
Beneath the haze of desire, I was dimly aware of another sensation spreading through me that had nothing to do with the physical. There was that sense of rightness again. That feeling of being complete, as though I’d been half a person all this time. I fought it. I was Fortuna, whole and finished no matter what magic wanted me to believe. My defenses, which had been a pile of dust and rock around us, rebuilt themselves. I struggled to remember why I’d come in the first place. What I’d felt toward this faerie only an hour ago instead of the all-consuming passion driving me now.
Learn their weaknesses.
I almost gasped. Hearing Oliver’s voice in my head helped to think more clearly—Collith was the enemy. I was at this party to save my enchanted brother and here it was. The opportunity I’d come for. With effort, I pushed back the lust and coaxed rationality forward. Collith didn’t sense the change in me. I kept kissing him while I reached toward his psyche. This time, I didn’t tear through it. Instead I tiptoed in like someone in a dark room, trying not to wake the person still sleeping in the bed.
It worked.
My power was specific to fear, so that was all I expected to find. There was more, though. There were snatches of images I wasn’t accustomed to finding in someone’s mind. A curly-haired woman laughing. Dapples of sunlight hitting a forest floor. Colorful lights flashing over a crowd.
Maybe it was our mating bond that allowed me to see so much, and however much I tried to deny it, I was intrigued by the memories in Collith’s head. Still, I forced myself to continue. I hadn’t come for the beautiful things. More often than not, they were lies, anyway.
His nightmares were buried so far beneath, I almost missed them.
The first one was worn and familiar, like a beloved novel, which meant Collith visited it regularly. I found myself in a passageway so overpowered by roots that it seemed impossible to get through. There was something at the end of it; I detected movement in the dark. Collith dreaded whatever waited for him. Was that a voice? A moan? It was calling his name …
I took a step closer, hoping I couldn’t be harmed by anything here. But suddenly the passage faded, giving way to the next of Collith’s secrets. Surprisingly, I was in the open, the top of my head warmed by daylight. Flowers quivered in a breeze and someone had laid a path of bricks alongside them. It was a garden, I realized. A garden in the middle of a wood. A small house stood nearby, its walls made of gray stone. Smoke rose from the chimney. The scene looked like something out of a fairy tale.
I turned in a circle, wondering if I’d stumbled upon another happy place in Collith’s mind. Just as I was about to retreat from the memory, I saw him. A male stood at the edge of the garden, an air of expectation hovering around him. His back was to me. He wore tight, black trousers and a billowy white shirt. His hair rivaled the sun above us in its brilliance. There was a delicate circlet on his head made of silver vines and sleeping buds.
The moment I saw him, a rush of feeling swept through me. The most powerful of all of them was pure, unadulterated terror. Whoever this male was, Collith was more afraid of him than any other creature on Earth.
Looks like I dug deep enough this time.
A moment too soon. Maybe he’d finally detected my lack of focus; before I could get a look at the distant figure’s face, Collith pulled away from our kiss and effectively yanked me back to reality. His eyes were bright with hope—he had no idea what I’d discovered. It took several moments to reorient myself. Once I comprehended that I was still wrapped around him, I slid back to solid ground. “Fortuna?” Collith whispered. It trembled on his lips like a wish.
The noise from the festivities filled the silence between us. Only half of Collith’s face was visible, and I stared up at the part I could see. Despite everything that had just transpired, my mind flashed back to the last time we’d been in that throne room. When he’d taken my voice. When he’d sat there as I screamed and bled.
A door inside me slammed shut.
“I hate you,” I whispered back. I kept my gaze on Collith’s long enough to see the light fade.
Then I bent and vomited all over his boots.