When I opened my eyes again, I half-expected the scene I’d just fallen asleep to. Collith beside me, a burnt-out candle on the table, a looming earthen ceiling overhead. But this time it had been replaced by the familiar sight of rustling grass and a faraway sea. A content, gentle breeze whispered past. Fading light tinted the world red and yellow.
Finally.
It felt like I hadn’t seen Oliver in weeks, and I didn’t even glance down to see what I was wearing before searching for him. The first direction I looked, of course, was the house. Every window was dark. Since he didn’t sleep, this had become our signal that he was somewhere else. I scanned the surrounding hills and dimming horizon. My gaze latched onto a slim figure standing off in the distance. As always, I broke into a run.
He heard me coming and turned. The moment I was within earshot I demanded, “How did you do it?”
Oliver frowned. The dying sun fell upon his eyes and hair, making strands of blond become glittering gold. “What are you—”
“When you treated my back, Ollie. What you did was still there when I woke up. My blood had been cleaned off and the lashes were covered in ointment.” I reached him then, and Oliver took my elbow to steady me. I wasn’t in any danger of falling; I knew this spot better than any other in the dream-scapes. Oliver had spent so much time here that the ground was bare where he stood. Whenever I imagined him during our time apart, it was exactly as he appeared now.
“Fortuna, take a breath,” Oliver ordered.
“How is that possible?” I insisted, ignoring him. The mystery had bothered me from the moment I woke up in that prison cell. The memory of Zara and Collith’s voices was as clear as the ocean spray reaching toward us.
Someone has already treated her.
Impossible. No one has been down here but the guard.
See for yourself. The wounds are cleaned and covered in a salve of some kind.
I shied away from remembering more. The lingering horror of that cell made me speak without thinking. “Never mind, it had to be something else. You aren’t … I mean, this isn’t …”
Now Oliver gave me a sad, bitter smile. “How did I do it, since I’m not real?” he finished. I drew in a sharp breath. As I fumbled for the right response, my heart ached. That’s not what I meant, I wanted to say, but it would be a lie. Waves pounded against the rocks far below, filling the painful silence between us. “Did you know you could do that?” I asked instead.
“No. I didn’t.” The words were clipped. “Would it be so terrible, Fortuna? If someday, somehow I was there when you woke up?”
“Ollie, no, of course not.” He waited for more, but I was afraid of saying something else that would hurt him. I couldn’t tell him that such a future was impossible or that this was all we’d have. Regardless of whatever new abilities he’d developed, in the other world, Oliver had no body.
It didn’t mean he lacked significance. It didn’t mean he was any less present to me than Damon, or Bea, or Cyrus. Thinking to show him how I felt, I cupped Oliver’s face and kissed him. His reaction was stiff, unyielding, so I abandoned his mouth to make my way down his neck. This was a language we both spoke. It always brought us together, no matter how many differences or words unspoken.
Without warning, Oliver stepped back. It caught me so off guard that I just watched as he settled wordlessly on the ground. He faced the luminous skyline with a stony expression. Did he want me to leave? Had something between us changed? The thought threatened to break me. I’d already endured so much; I couldn’t lose Oliver. Not now. Uncertain what came next, I shifted from foot to foot. After a moment, I sat down next to him. This is Ollie, I reminded myself. Your best friend.
My first instinct was to ask the questions piling up inside. My second was to let Oliver speak on his own time. I would simply listen.
It was the right choice. He didn’t turn or look away from the brilliant sea, but after a few minutes, Oliver spoke.
“Right now, your main focus is Damon. I understand. He’s your brother, your family. I was wrong before, when I told you to let him go.” Oliver hesitated. Now he angled his body toward me and, a beat later, our gazes met. His was filled with a terrible sadness that I hadn’t known he felt. “But I’m your family, too. I still feel what anyone else would, even if part of you believes I’m just a figment of your imagination. Try to remember that, even in times like this. Tell me the truth; don’t try to distract me from it. I deserve some dignity.”
My voice was soft. “I will. I’m sorry.”
Sorry for more than he’d ever know. I’d created him. I’d made this gilded prison for him. It was a miracle he didn’t despise me, really.
Now I mulled over my past few visits—no, the past few years —and realized how selfish I’d been. Giving him scraps of the outside world, keeping the pieces I deemed inconvenient for him to know. I had also kept to myself the fact that, in my mind, he was some imaginary friend or temporary insanity. I thought I’d done a good job hiding it, but of course he knew. Oliver constantly proved he was more intelligent than most of the people I considered real.
Unaware of the self-loathing coursing through me, Oliver merely kissed my cheek. Just like that, I was forgiven. “Now, tell me everything,” he said.
I smiled reluctantly at these words. When we were children, they were always the first thing out of his mouth once I’d arrived at the dreamscape. Even now, I could see it. Young Oliver, his eyes too big for his face and his freckles pronounced, jumping up and down in the doorway of the house. His arms and legs had been so skinny.
The image brought back a rush of more light-filled memories, which I would need if I was going to relive my time in the Unseelie Court. Preparing myself, clinging to the happiness of days past, I took a breath. The events of the past twenty-four hours, if it had really only been that long, poured out. My introduction to the court as Collith’s mate, how Arcaena had used magic on me, what I’d seen in Collith’s head, our conversation about the queendom and the consequences it would have.
I told him all of it. Even the kiss.
Oliver didn’t interrupt or ask any questions. Throughout my account, his expression remained carefully neutral. I hadn’t realized how much there was to say, how affected I’d been by it, because by the time I was finished it felt like someone had sucked poison out of me. Afterward, we just sat there, our legs dangling off the edge. Birds flew in the distance, small black dots that seemed to be heading straight for the sun.
Inevitably, my mind turned to the decision I’d made earlier, lying in that bed next to the Unseelie King.
Are you going to try for the crown?
I have to. For Damon.
“I think I know the answer to this,” I said abruptly, shattering the peace like a hammer to glass. In my peripheral vision, I saw Oliver turn his head. Though I yearned to avoid him, shy from the truth, I met his gaze. “But I need to ask anyway. If I were to die—out there, I mean—you’d be gone, too. Right?”
My best friend tilted his head. The light touched his eyes again, even more intensely than before. “If you died, Fortuna, I’d follow you into whatever afterlife there is. The rest doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Tears blurred everything. For once, I didn’t hide or dash them away. “I don’t deserve you,” I told him.
A strange expression crossed his face. Oh, shit, what did I say now? I thought. Just as I started to ask him about it, Oliver nudged me with his shoulder. “Sure you do,” he said. “But you must’ve done something very, very good in a past life.”
I rolled my eyes and nudged him back. Daylight retreated fully then. It happened between one breath and the next, subject to Oliver’s whim. At some point, without my noticing, the moon had emerged. The details of its rocky surface were sharp and detailed, like a painting. Nothing like the moon in my world.
Oliver’s words chose that moment to replay in my head. I’d follow you into whatever afterlife there is. The rest doesn’t really matter, does it? However much I appreciated them, the weight of another life settled on me. If I failed, not only would Damon remain in Jassin’s clutches, but a creature capable of exquisite art and unconditional love would cease to exist.
Another silent minute passed. I stared down at the waves, their depths black in the moonlight, and swallowed. “Want to know a secret?” I asked. Might as well get it all out in the open, while we still could.
Oliver didn’t hesitate. “Always.”
I released a long, shaky breath. For as long as I could remember, it had been an instinct, a rule, a mantra. Be the strong one. At first, it had been for Damon. But once he was gone, it was for my own sake. If I wasn’t hard, or closed off, the world would destroy me. Oliver had been the only exception. Now that death breathed down my neck, I couldn’t face it like this.
“I’m terrified,” I breathed. God, it felt liberating to say.
“Of what?”
“Some days it feels like I’m scared of everything. Losing another person in my life, disappointing Bea or Gretchen, or even just walking to my car alone. Right now, though? Whatever tomorrow is going to bring. There’s a good chance I won’t survive.”
Oliver twisted his lips in thought. It was something else he’d done since we were children, and the familiar sight was enough to make me smile again, just a little. “Come on,” he said. He jumped up, and in one quick motion, Oliver pulled his shirt off. Next came his jeans. The tendons in his arms flexed as he undid the button. Before I could look away, he stood naked before me.
I didn’t have much to compare him to, but I suspected Oliver was exceptional in any reality. My core heated and clenched. He noticed my reaction and gave me a look that made it difficult to think.
Then, without another word, Oliver spun and leapt off the cliff. A splashing sound disturbed the stillness. Smiling fully now, I got up and quickly undressed—it was the first time I noticed that I was wearing the same sweater and leggings from the last visit. Air whispered over my bare skin. Nearly trembling with anticipation, I backed up a few feet and ran at the edge.
For a few brief moments, I was flying.
When I hit the water, it was warm and opalescent. For a few seconds I lingered in the depths, gazing up at the moon. It was so easy to forget about what awaited me once I emerged. But Oliver was waiting, too, and I thought of him as I kicked for the surface.
In the real world, a chill would’ve race over my skin the moment I reached air. That didn’t exist here. Content and drowsy, I closed my eyes to float there for a minute. To enjoy the sensation of being weightless. The seconds ticked past and I could sense Oliver watching—his desire floated to me like a scent on the wind. I tried not to smile. He drew near, a rush of water coming with him, and ran his palm down my stomach. The brief touch sent a shiver of pleasure through me.
“When we were young, do you want to know what I was afraid of?” he said. With that, all traces of yearning vanished. I jerked upright and looked at him. Oliver raised his brows at my reaction. “Yes, I noticed that you never asked. I didn’t offer, either. I wanted this place, our place, to be different. Your life out there is hell, so I tried to make it the complete opposite here. But if I have to choose between preserving that illusion and your survival, it’s no contest.”
Too much was changing. I didn’t know if I was strong enough to face this, too. “Ollie …”
“Ask me,” he said. His tone said that he wouldn’t let it rest until I did.
I swallowed. “Fine. What were you afraid of?”
Oliver swam even closer. The moonlight made his skin look smooth as glass. Unbidden, my mind conjured someone else’s face, just as beautiful, just as pale, but with a jagged scar disrupting the perfection. Good night, Fortuna.
Get out of my head, Collith. Agitation surged through me like an electric charge, incinerating the image. Oliver didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. With the tip of his finger, he traced the side of my face. I struggled to focus on our conversation. “I was terrified that you, Fortuna Sworn, would forget or outgrow me,” he answered. “That someday, you wouldn’t come back. I didn’t care about fading into nothing or not existing. No, what haunted me most was the thought of losing you.”
His words made me feel sick. To think, I had wondered countless times whether I should do exactly that. Maureen had once suggested sleeping pills because she’d noticed how much I tossed and turned at night. “Why are you telling me this?” I managed, pretending that the sudden distance I put between us was for the sake of playing with the water.
Oliver’s expression was knowing. He always knew. “Because of this next part,” he said evenly. “I would’ve lost my mind if I’d let that fear live, Fortuna. So I started doing one thing, every single day, until I wasn’t afraid anymore.”
He was going to make me ask for this, too. My tone came out more exasperated than I meant it to when I said, “And what was that?”
“It’s simple, really. Close your eyes. Picture the worst possible outcome. Be cruel to yourself. Spare no pain. Do this again, and again, and again. Until one day, you find yourself immune to it, and the fear no longer controls you.”
I stared at him. He just stared back, unabashed and unapologetic. The ocean around us suddenly felt too quiet. “That’s fucked up, Ollie,” I said finally.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. The movement sent ripples through the water. “Everything is fucked up. If I found a way to cope with it, who cares how?”
“Most people suggest meditation,” I quipped, hoping to lighten the mood. Then, before Oliver could protect himself, I splashed his face. He hardly reacted, his attention suddenly fixed downward. Water dripped from his hair and chin unheeded. Frowning, I followed his gaze. The swell of my breasts rose and fell with every breath.
That was all it took to send a blaze of heat through my lower belly. Oliver must’ve felt it, as well, because he reached for me. His voice was nearly a growl. “Well, I can give you something to meditate about.”
I forced myself to pull away. Oliver stopped instantly, confusion replacing the hunger in his expression. “I made a promise,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t have kissed you before.”
Pain filled his eyes and he lowered his hand. The sky above us dimmed. “A promise to the faerie, you mean.”
“Yes. To the faerie.”
I waited for Oliver’s reaction, prepared for him to leave or start an argument. Instead, he made a visible effort to school his features. He reached under the water, seeking my hand, and held it as he rose to float on his back. Slowly, I did the same, though my entire body was still tense.
Preening like peacocks, the stars shone brighter at our attention. There were so many, every single one reflecting off the tranquil sea, and it felt like we swam among them instead of water. It only took a minute or two to forget my discomfort. Oliver and I drifted there, looking up at the sky as though we were so carefree, so young. My temple brushed against his.
With Oliver, the line between reality and pretend had always been blurred. I’d never been certain, especially now, if our time together was a crutch or it made me better. It didn’t matter tonight, really. Not when I had no idea if we’d have another.
I let out a long sigh. Oliver sighed, too, teasing me. “Hey,” I complained.
The corner of his mouth tilted up. He didn’t look at me as he said, “I love you.”
Normally it was hard to say it back. Not just to him, but to anyone. Now, though, I didn’t hesitate. I caressed Oliver’s profile with my eyes, that sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of his nose. “I love you, too.”
His hand tightened around mine. A million more stars appeared. The horizon exploded with light.
And I woke up.