They walked back towards Océane’s apartment, neither one of them able to speak but their hands linked together; a tiny spark of heat in a night that seemed intent on slaying any warmth in its bitter embrace.
Stood in front of her door once again, she fumbled with the key in her numb fingers and it clattered to the ground as she wept and kicked at the door in a fury. Corin picked it up and let them in and then held her as she shivered and sobbed in the darkness of her pitiful home. Pulling herself together, she wiped her eyes and turned on the lights and the heating. She didn’t have the faintest idea how she was going to pay the bill that was coming and was a little surprised it hadn’t already been cut off as the red letter for the last one sat glaring at her from on top of the bread bin.
She turned her back on it and leaned against the kitchen counter as she remembered Carla, so very fragile, her hold on life slipping away as Océane’s ploughed on relentlessly.
“You’re sure she ... Carla, she won’t ...” She stopped, quite unable to finish the sentence, and looked up to find Corin standing close to her. He stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.
“You will see her again, I promise,” he said. She nodded and laid her head against his shoulder. His arms went around her and held her close and the thought of losing this, of losing Carla and him ... She shivered uncontrollably and felt Corin kiss the top of her head.
“Darling, you’re freezing. Go and take a hot shower and I will endeavour to make us some coffee.”
She sniffed, looking at him in surprise. “Do you know how?” she asked. From what she had seen in their world, both Princes had been waited on hand and foot.
“I can make tea too,” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes and she couldn’t help but laugh at the pride in his voice.
“Such domestication,” she teased. “Now you need only learn to cook and you will make a wonderful husband.”
The atmosphere changed suddenly and she was very aware of his body pressed close, of the hard muscle just beneath her fingertips with only the thin material of his T-shirt between them. She wondered what it would feel like to put her hands on the skin beneath the fabric and heat bloomed under her palms. Her fingers spread out, smoothing over his chest and feeling the little nub under her thumb as it moved slowly over his nipple. He shivered under her touch and she knew the cold was not to blame as she looked up and took a shaky breath as his eyes darkened. For a moment he was utterly still and she hardly dared breathe. He looked away, releasing her, and began opening cupboards. “Go and have your shower, Océane.”
She did as she was told and went to her room. Closing the door, she undressed as her skin prickled with goosebumps in the chilly air. Taking the two steps into the bathroom, she turned the water up as hot as she could stand it and stood under it, shivering as it sluiced over her body but failed to melt the ice in her heart or touch the chill that had taken root somewhere deep inside.
When she was done she rubbed herself briskly with a towel that was more akin to sandpaper than the expanses of soft, warm material she had been given at the castle but at least it got her blood moving a little faster. She pulled on her threadbare cotton dressing gown and stood in her room with her hair dripping down her back, and she wondered what the hell was happening to her life. A few weeks ago she had been blissfully ignorant of the Fae and their land and now she wasn’t sure how she felt. Their world was so terribly beautiful, the knowledge that it really existed so astonishing, and a part of her longed to return to it, but she wished she had never chanced upon Laen. She had been such a fool to think there was any kindness behind those black eyes after everything he had done to her. Yet she’d believed he had been sincere in his apology ... What an idiot she was.
Laen was a black-hearted monster and she was much safer staying far away from him. She swallowed down the misery that accompanied that decision. Instead she remembered how Corin had behaved. His quiet support and the respect and care with which he had treated Carla brought Laen’s behaviour into such sharp focus in contrast. She would never forget what Corin had done for her friend. The effort he had taken to ease her and reassure her that there was no reason to be afraid made her heart ache and she felt tears spill down her cheeks all over again.
***
Corin stood in the shabby kitchen with the rich smell of coffee scenting the air and wondered what was taking Océane so long. It had been some time since he had heard her turn the shower off. His heart constricted at the fear he had seen in her eyes. She was so terribly afraid of being alone. Gods he knew only too well how that felt. Anger at Laen bloomed in his chest, though he knew how hard being in that room must have been for him. He could not condemn him for running out. That he hadn’t explained himself though ... That he had just given up ...
He leaned on the kitchen counter and took a deep breath. Gods, what a situation they had created.
There was still no sound from the bedroom and he began to worry about her. He didn’t like the idea that she was crying alone in her room. He picked up the coffee pot and poured her out a cup, hoping he’d remembered how to make it correctly. He added a generous spoonful of sugar, which he understood was customary to help with the shock of unhappy emotions and wished he could lay hands on a bottle of Ebony Fire as personally he needed something a great deal stronger to calm his own feelings. He stirred the cup with care and went and knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
He walked in to find her sitting on the side of her bed, trying to comb the tangles out of her hair. She wore a simple white, cotton dressing gown and her eyes looked big and sorrowful against her pale skin. She looked so lost that he longed to take her in his arms and try to make her happy. Even knowing that she didn’t love him, he wanted to try. He wished so badly that things could have been different.
What a damnable mess, all three of them breaking their hearts for no good reason.
He placed the coffee on the night stand by the bed and sat down beside her before taking the comb gently from her hands and combing her hair for her. Océane sighed and closed her eyes, her shoulders relaxing a little as he worked the comb gently through the thick tresses.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
There was a slight movement as her shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know.” The motion made the cotton slip a little, revealing the soft skin of her shoulder as the warm scent of vanilla drifted up from her body. She had turned towards him slightly and her wet hair dripped onto the worn dressing gown. The damp patches clung to her, showing the soft curve of her breast. How perfectly it would fit his hand if he were to reach out and touch her - slip his fingers under the fabric and caress that silken skin. The sodden material became transparent over her nipple and for a moment he imagined lowering his head to her breast and drawing it into his mouth, feeling the skin peak under the thin cotton as his tongue moved over her. The images came to him in quick succession, her hands on him, the sound of her pleasure under his touch, his name cried in rapture. His hand paused on the comb as hunger and desire burned under his skin and he swallowed hard before slamming the door on those careless emotions. She didn’t want him and even if she did this was hardly the time. She was vulnerable and fragile. She needed a friend not some love sick fool too desperate for a taste of her to see sense. He stirred himself to resume his work with the comb and carried on, focusing diligently on a small knot for a moment before he could speak again.
“Everything will work out for the best I’m sure. You’ll see,” he said, though just at this moment he was far from being persuaded himself.
“Will it?” she asked, a tremor in her voice, and he cursed himself for not having been more convincing.
Corin put the comb down and turned her around to face him. He reached forward and took both of her hands in his and looked her steadily in the eyes. “I promise it will, Océane. My word of honour.”
Her lip trembled and those lovely brown eyes filled with tears. “When she’s gone ... I’ll be alone. She’s been my family since we were children. There just isn’t anyone else.”
He shook his head. “I’ll always be your friend, Océane, and ... And you have Laen.”
“Don’t speak to me about him!” she snapped, tearing her hands away from his grasp. Corin frowned and opened his mouth anyway and she shouted again. “I mean it!”
He sighed and looked away from her, unsure what to do next.
They sat in silence and her head hung down, her face covered by the thick curtain of her hair. “You say you’ll be my friend but you’ll return home and I won’t ever see you again,” she said, her voice so quiet he could hardly hear the words. “And I’ll be left here.” She gestured at the tiny bedroom that had been her home ever since she had left the orphanage.
He felt a lump in his throat. No. No, he would not allow it. He would not let her stay here alone. “No.” She looked up at him and he realised he had spoken aloud. “It doesn’t have to be like that. Not ...” He hesitated. “Not if you don’t want it to.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes were on him, and the fact that she needed him made his chest ache.
“I mean that you can come back with me. I will always have a place for you if you want it, Océane.” He held out his hands to her. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not expecting anything, please don’t think ... I mean, you can come and go as you please, no strings, no tricks ... you have my word.”
“Oh, Corin.” The tears that had been trembling in her eyes began to roll down her face and Corin felt his restraint crumble.
“Please don’t cry, Océane,” he pleaded. “I can’t bear it. I’ll do anything, only don’t cry.”
“Anything?” she asked, her head tilting towards him with a look in her eyes that made his heart pound.
“Yes,” he replied, utterly serious. “Anything.”
She moved closer to him, the sweet vanilla scent of her skin curling around him like a caress. “Then kiss me.”
His brain froze as the demands his body were making began to take over but he shook his head as the last vestige of sanity lingered. “Océane, I don’t think ...” But before he could finish the sentence she had leaned forward and pressed her soft lips against his and the longing that had been growing within him ever since the day they first met overwhelmed everything else. He closed his eyes as her lips moved against his, and returned the kiss, his hand going to the back of her neck to draw her closer as she opened to him and his tongue sought the warmth he had been needing. He felt her arms wrap around him and pull him closer and he went willingly, reaching for her in return, caressing her. One hand glided around her waist as the other stroked her face with tender care and then slid down her neck, to her collar bone and then lower. He felt the softness of her breast under the worn cotton, and held himself firmly in check when all he wanted to do was rip the material out of his way like a spoilt child with a Christmas gift. The heat of her body seeping through his clothes chased away the chill in his bones from walking around Paris and replaced it with a fire that threatened to burn him up from the inside out. He tried to be restrained, tried to tell himself it was just a kiss. She just needed comforting ... it wasn’t going anywhere, but then her hands were moving over him and her kisses became more intense, drawing him further towards the point of no return.
Her fingers found the edge of his T-shirt and her hands were upon his skin. He sighed against her as they moved in a slow glide over his back and he was too lost to even try to resist. Taking control, he moved her back onto the bed, pushing her down as his body covered hers and exalted in the way she held on to him, her body coiling around his as she responded to his touch. His hands dropped to her hips and pulled them against him before hooking his hand under her knee and pulling it around until there was nothing but clothes between him and where he needed to be. His blood surged in his veins as she moved against him and their bodies twined together. With her hand tangled in his hair, pulling his head down, she demanded more as she clung to him with desperation. He knew she was escaping, trying to outrun the grief and sorrow that was dragging her into a dark place, and understood probably better than anyone what she was feeling. He wanted to escape with her. She arched against him, grinding her hips against his and moaning against his mouth and he could think of nothing other than the need to get the wretched gown from her body as fast he could ... until a voice in his head reminded him of what was really going on.
He ignored it, pushing it away. Damn but he was tired of doing the right thing. What about what he wanted ... What he needed ... Except ... No.
“No.” Leaving the warmth of her body was the hardest thing he had ever done but he pushed himself away from her. He moved fast, sitting at the end of the bed and breathing hard with his head in his hands.
“I ... I’m sorry,” she said, looking horrified. “I thought it was what you wanted.”
He gave a short bark of laughter swiftly followed by a furious tirade of swearing in the old tongue of his people. He should not in all conscience use such foul language in front of her but those words at least she would not understand, though from the look in her eyes he felt sure she understood the sentiment. He could not control the blaze of light and magic that flared around him however, which was so bright she had to shield her eyes and curl herself into a ball as the power burned against her.
When it had subsided and she dared to look up at him again he was standing in the doorway, one hand on each side of the jamb, his head hanging down.
“Of course it’s what I want!” he said, biting out the words as he turned to look at her. He saw her find the need in his eyes and take a breath. He clutched at the door frame, afraid he would run back to her. “Oh, gods, you have no idea how much I want ...” He paused as a combination of passion and fury stole his own breath. “If you knew all the things I wanted, you would not be able to sit there so calmly.”
She shook her head at him, feeling anything but calm and clearly not understanding how he could want her so much and refuse what she was offering. “Then why?”
“Because I won’t be a consolation prize, dammit!” He moved away as anger overtook him and he smacked the door with his hand, so hard that it banged against the wall and then slammed shut. He relented, his fury subsiding as he saw her jump in shock and wrap the dressing gown more tightly around her. He raked his hand through his hair and closed his eyes, his voice softer now. “Not even for you, Océane.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “Me too.” He stayed in the far corner of the bedroom, needing to put some distance between them, and leant against the wall. “Now listen to me and attend me well, because I swear to the gods this is the last time I mediate between you and Laen. If this ever happens again I shall take what I want and damn Laen, and you, and the consequences. I won’t be a gentleman again, I swear it!” he cursed. “I will consider my own feelings in the future and no one else’s.” He crossed his arms and glared at her. “Do you understand?” he demanded.
She nodded and bit her lip and from the stain that coloured her cheeks he could tell she was embarrassed, but he could not be too kind to her or it would be his undoing.
“Good.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Now you remember that I told you of the sickness that has come to the Fae Lands.”
She nodded again and he looked away as the vulnerability in her eyes was killing him.
“It is still a very rare thing but for those whom it affects it is fatal. It mostly affects the weak- that is, those with little magical ability. In our world magic is power; the more magic, the more land you can claim; the more wealth you possess. This sickness is not only a threat to our world but it is becoming something to be ashamed of. Powerful families will do much to cover up the fact the disease took one of theirs as if it shows some fault in the line.” He shook his head in disgust. “These are human diseases that we have no resistance to and our healers do not seem able to cure them. I thank the gods that I have not yet lost anyone I know of or care about but you have no idea of the terror it brings to our race.” He paused. “How old do you think I am?”
Océane looked up at him, clearly puzzled by the question. “I ... I don’t know, twenty six, maybe twenty eight?”
“I am one hundred and eighty seven.”
She gasped and stared at him.
“By Fae standards I am a very young man.” He smiled, amused by the shock on her face. “My father is over eight hundred and there are some amongst us who are older than you could ever imagine.” He frowned and looked down at the nauseating swirl on the orange carpet at his feet. When he spoke again his voice was soft. “Can you understand then, the terror it creates when we begin to die so young?” He looked up and held her eyes. “Laen’s mother was no older than me when she died and when that happened Laen was just six, Océane. She was the only one who ever protected him from his father and he watched her die. From the moment she was gone he was alone and in the tender care of a monster who despised him. Can you imagine perhaps what it was like for him to see your pretty young friend in the last hours of her life?”
He paused as his words took effect.
“When his mother died the manner of her death was deemed shameful and so she was effectively erased from the world. Her belongings, pictures of her, all of it gone.” His voice quavered a little and he cleared his throat. “Laen came back, Océane. He wasn’t running away, he wasn’t disgusted. He was scared and he didn’t want you to see.” Corin watched the tears roll down her face as she realised what she’d done and knew he had been right. “He would slay dragons for you, my darling girl, but when it comes to affairs of the heart you are the one who needs to be brave, for he does not know how. But you see this is why you need each other. You will teach him to trust in you and in his own heart and he will give you the unconditional love and security you crave so badly. You must just be patient with him. It is all very well longing for the strong silent type but if you get him you must put aside too much hope of romantic declarations and pretty words. You cannot have it all ways.”
“Oh.” She put her hand to her mouth and smothered a sob and he closed his eyes. He knew he had done the right thing. He could never have kept her. Sooner or later she would have realised her mistake and if she had left him and run to Laen it would have caused a rift between them. He would have lost his closest friend as well as a lover and he didn’t think he could have born that. It didn’t ease the pain in his heart at all, though, or the longing to stop being such a damned gentleman and take what had been offered him. He was suddenly exhausted, tired of fighting the future on so many levels and feeling that no matter what path he took, the gods were laying their traps accordingly.
He pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door. “Get some sleep now, Océane, and in the morning we will set everything to rights.”
“Corin ...” He paused but didn’t dare turn to look at her. “I ... I am so sorry ... truly. I wish things were different. I ... I do love you.”
His heart fractured slightly at the admission but he nodded. “I know, darling. It does help ... a little.”
“You’ve been so ... I can never thank you enough ...”
He slammed his hand against the door as his anger flared again. “Don’t! Whatever you do, don’t make out like I’m some knight in shining armour, for the love of the gods!” he raged. “Right at this moment the only thought in my head is of the two of us naked in that bed. It is all I can think of and I still don’t know if I am going to make it out of the room without taking my chances. So if you really want to know the truth, as much as I want you, the two of us would be a disaster. I have never been faithful in all my life and I don’t believe I ever could be. Laen will. He would never dishonour you. Don’t go thinking I’m something I’m not, Océane. I would break your heart just like every other woman I have ever encountered, so count your blessings!”
He heard her sniff and hated himself for being such a bastard.
“I don’t believe that,” she whispered.
He hung his head and his voice was bleak as he answered her. “Then you are very, very foolish.”
“Corin, we both know which of us has behaved badly and it certainly isn’t you. I’m just so embarrassed,” she sobbed. “I’ve never ...Oh, God I’ve acted like such a nasty slut.”
A sigh escaped his lips and he shook his head. “Don’t be absurd, Océane. You have had a traumatic day. You are tired and emotional and you needed someone to hold you.” He paused and leaned his head on the door. “So did I.”
“Will ... Will you tell him?”
He snorted. “Absolutely not and I forbid you to do so either! It will change nothing and he damn well asked for it, the blithering idiot.”
“Oh, God.”
He looked up and risked a glance in her direction. Her head was in her hands and where she had leaned forward the damned dressing gown had fallen open, revealing ... He turned swiftly away from her. “Goodnight, Océane,” he said, his voice rough. He grabbed hold of the door handle and yanked it open. “Lock the door behind me please,” he said without turning around and then went out, shutting it firmly behind him. He waited and did not hear the tell tale snick of a key turning. “That was not a joke!” he shouted through the door. And he heard Océane jump up off the bed and turn the key in the lock.