Rei
Darkness surrounded me like a cloud of thick, black smoke. A length of rope was bound tightly around me, trapping my arms and legs to the hardwood chair. I could feel its harsh fibers biting into my skin with a fiery intensity. The material seared against vulnerable flesh like a hot iron, suffocating me in its grip. No matter how much I struggled, the rope refused to loosen, digging deeper and deeper until it felt as if it had completely infiltrated my bones. There was no escape, nothing I could do except grit my teeth against the pain.
“Hello?” I screamed through my tears. “Rhen? Elm? Anybody?”
A chilling, soft, feminine voice tickled the air at my ear. “Hello, darling.”
Shivers raked down my spine, sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin. No matter how hard I tried, I simply could not push past the darkness that seemed to dominate this place. My heart pounded in my chest and sweat trickled down my face. Dread washed over me with no end in sight. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. As much as I wanted to scream or cry out, I could not bring myself to make a sound.
Sitting in the midst of murky shadows, feeling an overwhelming sense of uncertainty, my bottom lip quivered. I was eternally grateful for the shield of darkness that hid my fear, but I knew enough about the Fey to know that the cloak of shadow and night wouldn’t conceal the scent of it.
“Who are you?” I hesitantly asked, my tongue like sandpaper against my lips.
She giggled, breath hot against my skin. Fingers grappled with the knot of the blindfold. It fell to the floor slowly, like a feather floating from the sky. The woman that knelt in front of me wore the most vibrant shade of lipstick I’d ever seen, so bright in fact that I could see it through the damp darkness. Her almond skin reflected a shimmering light in the background.
“I’m Drea. What do I call you?”
The distinct sound of a male voice reverberated off of the rock walls, filling the air with a familiar resonance. “Don’t answer that. Never tell a feyrie your name.”
My heart pounded, gratitude surging through me. I knew that voice. I was saved! Elm came to save me!
“Forget already, Prince, that I am no feyrie?” said the female. I arched my neck around her to where the young, white-haired male stood. Had he cut his hair? It was nowhere near the length it had been when I’d seen him earlier.
With scarlet-rimmed eyes and a tense jaw, he pushed past the woman toward me. I realized the closer he stepped toward me and into the faint light; he wasn’t Elm, but his twin. He moved with an eerie swiftness and wore a strained expression, like he had been through a battle of his own.
“She’s an innocent,” he warned her, staring at me. Blue eyes pleading, not just with the red-head, but with me as well. “And my future in law.”
A jolt of nausea rose from the depths of my throat. I’d seen Rhen send him away before. Any lingering feelings that she felt for him were replaced by hurt and anger. And though I did not know the extent of what he’d done, I respected my daughter’s judgment. I couldn’t wrap my head around why he thought he could ever win her back. Once Rhen had made her mind up, there was almost no changing it.
“I don’t intend to harm you,” said Drea, ignoring Baz’s presence. Light cast over her from cracks in the ceiling. “I just wanted to get to know you, darling. We are both mothers, after all.”
“You have kids?” It came out more judgmental than I’d intended. She looked young, but I was still technically a teen when I’d become a mother. Anything was possible.
Her fingers tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch sent a chill down my spine. She leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Of course. I’m the mother goddess of fear and chaos, but most call me the Driech.”
Realization hit me like a slap in the face. Of course, I’d heard the others talk about the looming darkness that brought destruction in its wake. But they’d failed to mention that the dark force took the form of a woman.
I swallowed hard, peering around the proud woman to the prince. Dark, grim features stared back with a near blank expression. “She’ll never forgive you,” I said to him, “if you do this. Elm said–”
Red, unbridled rage surged through him. He advanced, shoving the goddess aside in one swift motion. His hand suddenly closed around my throat, his sharp talons biting into my skin, and drawing rivulets of crimson blood that ran down my chest, staining my shirt. Rendered speechless by fear, my eyes widened as I stared back at the male. Somehow, I could look past the facade and directly into his soul. Though he might have the face of a beautiful feyrie prince, something dark lay beneath those blue eyes.
“Never mention that name to me ever again.”
With several short nods and wide eyes as my answer, he released his grip. Turning back to Drea, he snapped his fingers. A dark blue flame rose and crackled from his palm.
“Where do you think you are you going?”
He swiveled, still holding the fire in his hand. It illuminated his face, and my mouth went dry. His shadow cast against the wall, revealing a monster beneath his beautiful skin. His massive body was terrifying, but it was the large, daemonic horns that stole my breath.
“I have a country to run. Forget already, Drea, that I’m now the King?” He mocked the powerful female with no reservations. I wasn’t sure what that said about him. He didn’t seem to be afraid of her, but I could taste the dark magick radiating from her breath as she leaned over me.
She wasn’t fey, and the sickly-sweet scent of her magick confirmed that. Whatever she was, it was much more intense than any feyrie magick I’d come face to face with.
She licked her bottom lip and stared at me with a bloodthirsty smirk. “I have big plans for you.”
Baz might not have been afraid of chaos personified, but I certainly was.
Not just for myself, but for my daughter.
Rhen
Sweat beaded on my skin, a single droplet rolling down my forehead and stinging the corner of my eye. I gasped, barely able to raise an arm in time to block Kol’s bokken inches before it glided across the skin of my shoulder. But it was too late; already I felt its hard edge tap against me.
Out of instinct, I stumbled back, feeling a searing heat where the wooden blade had made contact with me. The pain wasn’t intense, but I knew tomorrow I would wake with an ugly purple-blue mark.
“Ouch!” I whined, swiping the moisture from my face with the curve of my arm. Out of reflex, I pressed a hand against my shoulder where he’d landed the blow. “Dammit, Kol! I’m human, remember?”
The sylph made a throaty noise, and I answered by flicking an obscene gesture in his direction. Another chuckle blossomed from beneath his gleaming chest. He brought the sword down to his side, his lips twitching up into an arrogant smirk.
“Elm’s been too easy on you,” he said, swinging the hilt of the sword up and aiming its curved point at me. “Again.”
We’d been practicing in the snow since before dawn. He’d forced me to jog around the fortress until my knees wobbled and feet were numbed completely from the cold. That was hours ago, and we hadn’t even stopped long enough to eat breakfast.
“At least he lets me eat first,” I grumbled under my breath as I raised my sword. The first time I’d held it in my hands, the weight of it nearly pulled me face first into a pile of snow. I’d begged to use a wooden one like Elm and Kol, but they both agreed I needed to get used to a true sword if I was ever going to face an actual enemy. Since my trainers were both Fey and healed rapidly, they decided it was safe enough. Not to mention the fact that they both moved so fast, I couldn’t even tag them. And in the rare instances that I did, they healed before the morning.
The sun nearly peaked over the top of the white-tipped mountains, and my stomach groaned in protest as I stabbed the air toward Kol. He dodged, unfurling his wings, and using them to whisk heavy wind toward me. I teetered, but somehow kept my footing. It gave him the advantage of time, though. He whipped through the air toward me and smacked the edge of the wooden blade against my neck.
My entire body rocked to the left, and I collided into the damp, cushioned earth. Instinct had me gripping hold of my weapon even after I’d fallen. I held it up triumphantly with a tired smile.
“I didn’t drop it this time!”
Kol trailed toward me, peering down with a disappointed frown. “That’s not exactly a reason to celebrate. I knocked you over easily. If I’d been a scorn, you’d be dead now.”
Giving him a pointed expression, I brushed the snow off my pants. “Ugh! Because you cheated! You used your wings to unbalance me. If you—”
“Excuses, excuses.”
I couldn’t shove down the doubt that spoke in my mind, telling me he was right. I likely would never be good enough to protect myself from danger, much less an entire species. And if I couldn’t even save myself, what chance in Hell did I have at rescuing my mother from the Driech, from stopping the evil bitch wiping out all of humanity?
The silver-haired male rolled his eyes, his hands coming together as he made a show of derisively mocking me. I felt a twinge of anger and indignation wash over me, but kept my composure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he was getting to me. He had that superior look in his eyes that told me he knew exactly what kind of reaction he was getting out of me, and it only further fueled my growing anger.
A female voice called from behind him. “Cut the girl some slack, Kol. It’s only been a month. She’s making decent progress.”
He whirled toward her and narrowed his brows. “Funny coming from you.”
Phyre brushed past him and extended her hand out to me with a warm smile. Her freshly cut bob of scarlet ringlets whipped in the wind.
I took her hand, and the warmth of it spread through me like lightning. I hadn’t realized how utterly frozen my skin was until I’d grazed hers.
“Holy shit, Kol! She’s gonna get hypothermia. How long have you been out here?”
Kol shifted his shoulders in a gesture of apathy and yawned indiscreetly, showing how little, he cared. “I dunno,” he replied simply, his tone uninterested.
My teeth chattered together. “He woke me up before sunrise. Made me run laps, then refused to let me have breakfast.”
Kol glared at me, his silver eyes casting daggers. “Tattle tell,” he snarled, emphasizing each syllable as if I had committed the worst crime imaginable.
I stuck out my tongue, and he reciprocated the gesture. Phyre’s fist connected with his jaw, and he went flying into a bed of snow from the impact.
My mouth widened in awe. I’d seen Phyre kick ass before when I watched her train, but it never ceased to amaze me how truly strong she was. She was a beast when it came to physical strength. I’d watched both Elm and Kol take her on during training sessions, and neither of them ever even knocked her off balance.
She turned back to me and smiled as if she hadn’t just thrown an entire six-and-a-half foot male soaring twenty feet with a single punch.
“C’mon.” She twisted her head toward the fortress’ backdoor. “I think we have some leftover pasta in the fridge.”
I whipped my head toward Kol, who had finally got to his feet. I flipped him off again, and I could have sworn I saw him wink. Phyre wrapped an arm around my shoulders and drug me along with her. “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s just sour that a human is making faster progress than he did when he first joined the Hunt.”
We bounded up the slippery steps and into the fire-warm building. Smoke from the fireplace wafted into my nose as I crossed the threshold. I happily inhaled the crisp, hot air when her words finally registered.
“Wait, really?”
Phyre giggled, releasing me, and prancing toward the kitchen. “He didn’t even know how to hold the sword correctly until I showed him. You should have seen the look on his face the first time I knocked him on his ass. Oh, it’s so good not to be the only girl in the house!”
My nose curled at the thought.
“Men,” we said in unison before bursting into a fit of laughter.
The hairs on my arm prickled as I sensed his presence lingering in the doorway. Black ribbons of shadow ebbed, and Elm stepped out of them with the feline smile he always wore. “Ladies,” he purred. “What’s so funny?”
Phyre opened the standing icebox and pulled out a plastic container with leftover spiral noodles. She placed it on the counter and motioned for me to grab a skillet hanging on a wire behind me.
“Oh, you know,” she said, peeling off the lid while avoiding catching her stiletto nails on the edge. “Just discussing how all you men are disgusting pigs that never grow up.”
Elm’s brow rose with mild interest. “Hmm.”
I found myself staring at him as I handed Phyre the pan. He turned toward me, feeling my eyes on him, and winked. “You agree with that, pet?”
I chortled in response. “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”
He pouted out his bottom lip. “I’m hurt, truly.”
Shit.
The way his icy blue eyes glistened as he looked at me, caused heat to rush to my cheeks. I had to turn away to hide them. The heat trailed from my face down into my stomach, but I blamed that on the ravenous ache of hunger. But it grew the moment I dared another glance.
He wore a tight-fitting v-neck shirt that revealed every-single-ripple of muscle. When I finally drug my eyes from his physique, I realized his lips were pulled back into a half-grin as if to say, Like what you see?
Ugh, men really were disgusting pigs.
Neither of us had mentioned the disaster with Baz within the past month, and I wanted to keep it that way. For years, I’d protected myself by never allowing myself to feel. As long as I remained numb to something as trivial as lust, I’d never have to get hurt. But I’d broken my own rules when I’d let Baz into my heart for a fraction of a second. And he’d taken advantage, reached in and squeezed the life from it until I was on my knees.
I’d been right all along. If you let people in your heart, they trample you and leave you bleeding on the cold, hard floor without regret.
I would hang myself from the rafters before I let that happen again.
A deep sizzle disrupted my train of thought, and I turned to see black smoke covering the entire pan. Phyre panicked, waving both hands frantically in front of her face, attempting to dispel the smog.
“Oh, gods. Oh, gods! Make it stop! Make it STOP!”
Elm’s arm brushed against mine as he breezed past to switch the stove off, eyes darting over the open flame. Carefully, he peeled the pan away from the heat, shaking his head in disappointment. The food within was overcooked and ruined, scorched black.
“And this is why you aren’t allowed in the kitchen anymore, Phy. Aren’t women supposed to be good at cooking?”
As if realizing the mistake of his chauvinistic comment, he held the scalding hot pan up in defense to ward off Phyre’s retaliation. I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as I watched her pursue him around the tiny kitchen island. If Phyre managed to close in, Elm would glimmer, popping his head out from the shadows and mock her for being too slow.
Kol appeared beside me and shook his head, crinkling his nose at the smell of burned pasta coming from the pot. His eyebrows knitted together in revulsion as he viewed it.
“You wanna go to Grady’s for some chicken?”
I nodded, grasping at my midsection as it growled in agreement. “Yes, please.”
He leaned over and whispered. “Sorry if I’m being too hard on you, but even I wouldn’t subject you to Phyre’s cooking.”
Kol was a hardass, but I knew that was only his way of putting on a brave face. Deep down, he was sensitive and empathetic. He had so much more heart than he would ever let on. I could tell from his body language that whatever burdens he carried weighed heavy on him, though you’d never catch him expressing it in words. Just like I knew, Elm’s arrogant, carefree persona was a front. We all had our own way of protecting ourselves. I couldn’t fault him for that. Though it wouldn’t hurt him to be a little gentler.
Still, I’d grown to expect his brashness, so his gentle voice came as a shock. Doing my best to hide it with an affable smirk, I met his silver eyes. “All’s forgiven as long as you promise to get me some of that brown gravy and potatoes.”
He winked, gestured for me to follow him. “Deal. Seal it with a kiss?” His words were playful, his eyes glittering with mischievousness.
I whacked his shoulder with the back of my hand. I’d learned my lesson when it came to making deals with the fey, even if he was joking. “In your dreams.”
Had it come from anyone else, I would have felt extremely uncomfortable. But something about Kol’s demeanor and the way he carried himself, made it clear that he had absolutely no romantic interest in me.
Or anyone, for that matter.
When he wasn’t whacking me around with his wooden sword, he would say sweet and suggestive things, particularly when Elm was around. As if he wanted to provoke a response from him.
It never did, though.
“Can’t blame me for trying.” Kol paused at the door and counted on his fingers.
Three, two — Both Phyre and Elm barreled behind us. The sylph released a pleased smile. “We’re headed to Grady’s. Ya’ll coming?”
Breathless, Phyre barked out an exasperated answer. Her arms went around Kol’s midsection, and he had to raise his wings to keep her from pinning them against his back. “Thank the gods. I did not want to eat that.”
“Ha! See! What I said wasn’t rude—” Elm started.
She scowled at him, her jaw tightening as released Kol from her grip. “You’re lucky I’m hungry.”
Elm and I exchanged a glance and laughed. I’d done a lot of that, surprisingly, since my stay in the mountains. Even though I still felt the weight of my mother’s absence in my heart, I was happier in Edelweiss than I’ve ever been in my entire life. It had become home. Despite the perpetually freezing air, their company surrounded me with warmth and comfort.
As a collective unit, we rushed down the steps and waited eagerly for Elm to whisk us away to the Oread. This was the only place where both Fey and humans lived in unison, something that was an absolute rarity at this point in our world. Since it was so close to Edelweiss, we often made our way there for shopping trips. Picking up everything from supplies and groceries to trinkets and clothes.
My feet planted firmly on the ground, my senses brought to life by the heavy scent of smoke that filled the air, burning my nostrils. Before all traces of Elm’s black shadowy tendrils had vanished, I could already hear the desperate cries of agony piercing through the thick veil of smoke. Black smog so thick I felt it settle in my throat and burn my eyes.
But it was the smell that broke me. Death hung in the air like burning wood and pungent sulfur.