Chapter Thirteen

 

A familiar smell roused me from some of the deepest sleep I’d ever had. My senses noted a crackling fire, some stew brewing, and herbs drying in another room. All mixed with a lovely earthy tinge. Something tugged at my hand, and my eyes peeled open.

Oliver sat next to the bed I lay in, wrapping my hand. His eyes darted to my face, and he grunted approvingly. “You’re awake.”

“Unfortunately,” I groaned and attempted to shift in place. But my body felt like a deflated balloon.

He gave a slight chortle and leaned back on the rickety wooden stool he sat on. “Thank the stars you’re even alive, girl. You looked like a corpse when they dragged your body here last night. I couldn’t even tap a vein to start a blood infusion until a few hours ago.”

My head was heavy as a stone as I checked my other arm and noted the needle taped to the inside of my elbow. Panic flooded my body, and I wanted to bolt from the bed and rip the thing out of my arm. Oliver took my hand and covered it with one of his, patting it slowly, comfortingly.

“Hush now, you’re safe,” he said calmly. “It’s putting blood in, not out.”

“How did you know–” I glanced around the tiny bedroom. “Where’s Max?”

“She’s being held in another room,” he replied.

“Held? What do you mean?”

“Aya and Brie made sure she didn’t leave until you woke up and could verify her story. They’re watching over her.”

“She saved me,” I rushed out. “Max saved me. She’s not the enemy–can I speak with her? Can you bring her in here?”

His large troll lips mulled together. “Very well.”

Oliver stood and ducked through the doorway. I lay there and stared at the ceiling, willing my poor heart to calm down. Oliver returned after a minute with a disgruntled Max in tow. Her hands were bound with a simple rope. Did they seriously think that would hold her? She was a werewolf, for crying out loud. If Max wanted to escape, she could have. Easily. The fact that she was still here, allowing herself to be tied up, spoke volumes. To me, anyway.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

She seemed puzzled at the question but shrugged. “Better than you.”

“Thank you,” I said. ”For saving me and for helping me free those Fae.” I looked at Oliver. “I think you can remove the ropes.”

But before he could, Max pried her wrists apart with ease, and the rope ripped in half, falling to the floor. Oliver grumbled something under his breath and walked away as Max entered the room, her back pressed against the wall.

“When can I leave?” she asked me.

“You’re not a prisoner,” I told her, and she gave me a look. “Max, we both know you could have left at any time. Why did you stay?”

She stared at the floor in thought. “I don’t know.”

Even after running around underground, saving those fairies, and spending the night at Oliver’s cabin, every inch of her was immaculate. From her unwrinkled leather pants to the long-sleeved black shirt she wore. Not a single braid was out of place. Not a speck of dirt on her ebony skin.

On the other hand, I looked like someone stripped me of my clothes and dragged me across a field of shit. I pulled the handmade quilt up further over my body. I still wore Max’s peacoat, but the sleeves had been ripped off where Oliver had been working on me.

“Shit, sorry about your jacket,” I said. “I’ll pay you back.”

A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t bother. It’s my mother’s.”

“Why were you wearing your mother’s jacket?”

She seemed to question the words that wanted to be said. “Fuck it, may as well jump all in.” She shoved off the wall, and her chest rose as she filled her lungs. “I wasn’t supposed to be down there in the coombs, and wearing my mother’s jacket helped me slip by the guards.”

“Coombs?”

“What you saw was a tiny part of an elaborate underground system of catacombs that spans the entire city. Maybe even more. It’s where the Therians first took refuge five hundred years ago when the Seelie king forced them all from Faerie. At first, it was just a simple underground space, maybe an abandoned sewer system or something. And, over hundreds of years, they expanded and transformed it into what it is today. Cells, laboratories, offices, meeting rooms, treasure troves, and catacombs to bury our dead.”

“You bury your dead down there?”

“Well, the important ones, anyway,” she replied. “Leaders, fighters, heroes.”

“Why weren’t you supposed to be down there?” I asked. “Aren’t you the daughter of the leader or alpha or whatever?”

She unfurled her fingers with a look of disdain and crossed her arms. “I’ve been known to steal a thing or two from down there.”

“Like what?”

Max tensed but never rose to anger. I was getting the gist that she didn’t like oversharing. “Supplies…for witchcraft.”

That made sense. I thought of Max’s apartment, the herbs, bottles, and bowls that looked like they were plucked from the set of The Craft. And the Therians eradicated the witch population after coming to Ironworld. Of course, they’d have supplies.

“Max, I have to tell them.”

Her dark eyes fleeted to mine and stayed there, a sort of understanding passing between us. It wasn’t the witchcraft or the existence of the underground network that I needed to tell my friends about. It was Vivian’s plan to use vampires and invade Faerie.

She nodded. “I know.”

I chewed at my lip. “Are you…will you stop me? Are you going to tell your mother?”

“That woman has been dead to me for years.” Still, a nervousness came over her, and Max steeled herself. “Do whatever you have to do. Just leave me out of it.”

“I promise.”

She arched a brow. “Aren’t you part Fae in some way or another?”

My throat was dry and tight. “Yeah, or another.”

Max grinned and turned to the door. “Be careful. Your promises are dangerous.”

She turned the knob, yanked it open, and motioned for everyone to enter the room. I wondered about gilded promises and what weight they held. The power they had.

Julie, Moya, and Oliver filed inside, lingering around the doorway. All eyes were on me.

“I’m completely fine,” I said honestly. “But there’s something you all need to know.” I glanced at Max, who crossed her arms tightly. “Vivian Carmichael, Max’s mother, is the alpha of the Therians, and she’s using the Fae blood to feed vampires so they can invade Faerie and kill Mabry.”

“But I thought she had that deal with Oden to help him overthrow the Seelie queen?” Julie said as she rolled up the sleeves of the long white shirt she wore over matching leggings.

I nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think Oden knows of her plans to do it herself and take Faerie for the Therians.”

“When is she planning to do this?” Moya asked with an unnerving look.

Max shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t talked to my mother in a while.”

Moya paced in place. “Avery, you need to tell Oden. Find out what he knows and what he plans to do. I’ll head to the Summer domain and see if I can talk to Tess and Kheelan. I’ll get my sisters to do some recon on Therian hot spots we know of.”

Max shifted from side to side and looked at me uncomfortably. “Why do you all care?”

I blinked at her. “We all belong to both worlds and don’t want to see them crumble. Are you going to help or not?”

She had a calculating look on her face as she looked from me to all my friends. “Screw this,” she said and pushed through the doorway. No one dared follow her, and I didn’t blame them. Max was a bomb just waiting to happen.

I didn’t want to be there when it did.

 

***

 

Cillian cradled me in his lap while we looked up at the stars from my balcony. One arm around my back, the other hung over my waist, rubbing the skin beneath my olive-green sweater; I nestled my head against his chest, breathed in his soothing scent of night and leather, and told him everything that had happened.

I felt him tense beneath me. “I want to rip Vivian’s throat out.”

“Don’t risk your life like that,” I said and shifted in his lap so I could face him. “She has an army of vampires and werewolves, Cillian. Jesus. You might be immortal, but you’re not invincible.”

Those cerulean eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and he pushed my hair over my shoulder with a sad and distant look. “I know.”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

I dragged my fingers across the stubble on his jaw and stared at it. “It’s so subtle, most people wouldn’t even see it. Both you and your sister do it. Sometimes you just… I don’t know. It’s like you’d welcome death or something.”

“Maybe we’re just not afraid of anything,” he replied cheekily.

I wrapped both arms around his neck. “We’re all afraid of something.”

I meant it lightly, but his eyes darkened, and wetness filmed over them as he stared at me. I wondered what he truly feared. Was it losing me or hurting me? Because it was both for me. My biggest fear was accidentally killing my boyfriend and losing him all at the same time. I thought about it constantly.

The pain I sensed in his gaze made me look away, and I cleared my throat. “So, when will you actually start teaching me to fight? There’s only so much cardio I can take.”

“Cardio, weight training, endurance, and stamina,” he corrected. “You have to make your body strong first. Then you fight.”

“Then teach me one thing for now,” I pleaded. “Anything. I just want something I can use to defend myself.” When he went to argue, I quickly added. “The Therians will use the vampires to betray Oden and take over Faerie. And I’m going to get roped into it. I can feel it. I need to be able to protect myself.”

“You’ve only been working out a few weeks,” Cillian said consideringly, his cool hand caressing the skin of my lower back. “But I might be able to teach you a defense move or two in the morning.”

A few weeks? Oh, shit. I hadn’t noticed how much time had gone by. I looked up at the moon, and it was nearly full. I headed back to the Domain of Nightmares tomorrow night. But I didn’t want to think about that.

Cillian picked up my shift in mood and brushed his fingers across my neck, over the vein that throbbed when my pulse quickened and demanded my attention.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”

I pressed my lips together, and his eyes fell to my mouth as he smeared his thumb across it.

He slipped the tip in, and I swirled my tongue around it, eliciting a deep moan from his chest as he pulled me closer. I could already feel him growing beneath my leg.

“Julie’s inside,” I said.

His eyes flashed with deviousness. “Then you best not make a sound.”

My legs slightly parted across his lap, a silent invitation, and he took it. His fingers slipped inside the waist of my pants and slowly worked magic as they passed over my most sensitive spot. Warmth pulsed there and spread outward. My mouth gaped with a moan, and Cillian capped it with his own, dragging his teeth over my bottom lip as he pulled away.

Those fingers massaged slow, sensual circles, coaxing a building climax that ebbed within me. When I dared make a sound, he stopped and quietly chuckled under his breath at the glare I shot him.

I curled my hand over his forearm, begging him to proceed, and he obeyed. My body responded, writhing in his lap as we exchanged heated moans of pleasure.

“Oh, God…” The words were no more than a whimper in my throat.

His other hand, the one at my back, smoothed up my spine and grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck. He gave it a gentle tug, pulling my head back, and my face tipped to the night sky where stars watched as my body trembled and I spilled my release into his hand. He kissed my exposed neck, sending goosebumps racing over my skin.

We sat motionless as statues, his hand still nestled between my thighs. My rampant heart beat between us as I waited for my lungs to calm. Finally, I turned my face to his, and he kissed the tip of my nose.

I gripped the back of his head and planted a hard, consuming kiss on his mouth. He protested with a groan when I leaned away, but his eyes widened as I slid from his lap and nestled on the balcony between his legs.

It was my turn.

 

***

 

It was lunchtime when I got a fire message from the Domain of Nightmares. It just said, Harbour at Noon. I’d hoped he wouldn’t summon me until the evening, like last time, so I could spend the day with Cillian. But my vampire boyfriend did manage to teach me a couple of defensive moves before I got called away.

I walked down to the waterfront and strolled back and forth the long boardwalk that skirted this side of the harbor, searching for a tall, brooding, white-haired man. God, I hoped he at least saw fit to hide his pointed ears or leave behind the gaudy cane. The people of Ironworld weren’t ready to witness a Dark Fairy Lord in all his glory.

The mid-December chill seeped between the layers of my clothes, and I flexed my gloved fingers, wishing I wore an enchanted pair that Aya and Brie gave me, ones that kept my hands nice and toasty. But I wouldn’t need them where I was going.

I considered wearing a ring the twins also gave me, though. One made of a puzzle that could turn into iron knuckles. But my thumb and half my hand still swelled from escaping my binds down in the Therian coombs. I couldn’t bear to let anything touch my hand at all. It just ebbed with a nagging ache.

After an hour of walking, I finally sat on a bench and waited. If Oden refused to be more specific with times and locations, he could just come to me.

Sullivan appeared on the bench next to me without a sound, sipping a Timmies hot chocolate, one leg crossed over his knee. His usual thin leather jacket was replaced by a dark brown parka and a hood lined with fur. He grinned at me, the tiny piece of metal in his lip gleaming under the winter sun.

“Afternoon, Red.”

“He can’t even meet me himself?”

“Oden’s busy,” Sullivan replied and took a sip from the red to-go cup. “So, I offered.”

I leaned back, stretched, and crossed one ankle over the other. “Your brother isn’t holding up his end of all this very well.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll reserve my wrath for him if you don’t mind.”

He regarded me for a moment, then fetched a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I watched as he stuck the butt end of one in his mouth and lit it. He took a long drag and let out a slow breath of smoke. “Just tell me.”

“Vivian kidnapped me and drained a shit ton of my blood,” I said, my breath turning white in front of me. I’d save the part about her backstabbing his brother and building her own army of vampires for when I saw Oden. “Plus, Evaine still lurks around.”

“Fuck.” He took another long drag. “Oden’s gonna be pissed.”

I guffawed. “Doubt it.”

He grinned knowingly to himself. “Still a skeptic?”

“I’ve yet to learn anything.”

Sullivan half turned to me; eyebrows pinched together. “You haven’t been practicing what he told you?”

“Well–” I took a steadying breath. “I mean, yes, I have, but–”

“Show me.”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Show me how much you’ve practiced, Red.”

I blinked a few times and adjusted how I sat, sitting up and staring at my open hands. I summoned my light, pooling in my palms like a tiny spark. I let it grow and grow, cascading over my fingers and pouring down to the snowy ground, melting everything around the bench. And just like the snap of an elastic band, I reined it in, and we sat in regular sunlight again.

Sullivan gave me a cheeky smirk and a wink as he stood and snuffed out the cigarette with his boot. “I’d say you’ve learned something.” He offered a heavily ringed hand to me, fingernails chipped with dark polish. “Shall we?”

I stood, slipped my hand into his, and took a deep breath. We stood at the edge of the castle’s property line when I let it out. Well, the wisping line, anyway. I shuddered with a glance toward the Dark Forest, remembering the way Misery and all his friends made me feel. I breathed in through my nose. The air was different here. Denser, sweeter. More alive.

“How’d you get away?” Sullivan asked as we strolled up the long dirt path.

I subconsciously tucked my arm to my side, trying to hide my injured hand. “I managed to wiggle free of the straps and took the pins out of the door hinges.”

Sullivan threw his head back with a deep, raspy, guttural laugh.

“What?”

“I’m gonna like havin’ you around, Red.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I warned him. “I don’t plan on sticking around long.”

He didn’t reply and kept quiet as we strolled through the castle and right to the door of my temporary quarters.

“Oden will be back for dinner,” he said and spun on his heel. “Relax. Get ready. See you in an hour,” he called over his shoulder and disappeared around a corner.

I opened the thick wooden door with a huff and realized it didn’t feel as heavy as before. My arms and body were stronger just from working out for a month. Nothing major, just a sense of might. I grinned as I shut the door behind me. Maybe Cillian knew what he was doing after all.

The room was different. The furniture and décor still mocked a dark castle vibe with emerald silk sheets and warm walnut furniture. But a desk had been added, its surface covered in art supplies. Coloring pencils, paints, pastels, charcoal, a stack of paper, and a few flat canvases.

I flung open the giant wardrobe, expecting to find an assortment of god-awful dresses. “What the hell?” The words were a whisper. Pants and shirts and sneakers and boots.

I reached inside and dragged my hand through the fabrics. All silks and gorgeous linens, but no more dresses. My fingers fished through my favorite jewel tones of navy, crimson, and jade. All mixed with black garments. Gold jewelry and accessories hung from inside the doors.

A knock came at the door, and Mags burst in before I could reach it, her two minion fairies in tow. They carried trays of snacks and a pitcher of wine and set it on the vanity as Mags gawked at me.

“Don’t you Ironworlders have any sense of self-care?” she asked, gesturing to my hair and general appearance.

“Don’t you fairies know how to properly knock?” I retorted and slipped out of my coat. “You’re supposed to wait for permission to enter.”

Her large, black eyes narrowed, but I caught a hint of a grin creasing the sides of her mouth, pulling at the lovely green color of her skin. She shooed me toward the bathroom, where I could already hear the giant bathtub filling. Mags followed me inside.

“I can get undressed and bathe myself–”

My clothes disappeared with another snap of her long, green fingers, and I’d forgotten the brown and blue bruises that peppered my body from the blood-sucking needles the Therians had jabbed into me.

Mags’ eyes widened. “What in the world….” She grabbed my wrist to hold out my arm, but it was my injured hand, and I winced as I hauled it back from her grasp. She noted me nursing it to my chest. “What in the gods' name happened to you?”

“I had an unfortunate run-in with some werewolves.” It didn’t even bother me that I stood bare-naked in front of this woman, this Fae. She didn’t look at me any differently than if I were fully clothed. This was her job.

“Is the hand broken?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied and tried to rotate my wrist. A sharp sensation bolted up my arm, and I seethed. “Just…hurt.”

She turned off the tub, filled to the brim with hot, soapy bubbles and oils. “Why didn’t you have it healed?”

“It is healed. I didn’t want to worry anyone. I’m fine, I just–”

“You’re in cahoots with a circle of capable Fae, a healer being one of them.” How did she know that? “There’s no reason for you to walk around with injuries like that.”

“Can you heal them?”

“I’m skilled at many things, Miss Quinn, but a healer, I am not.” She helped me step into the deep tub, and I almost moaned at the instant relief on my muscles. “Bathe. I’ll pick out something for you to wear,” she said as she turned for the door.

“Mags?” I said, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Something…with long sleeves?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she nodded before shutting the door behind her.

I soaked for half an hour before I let Mags and her helpers have at me. She dressed me in gorgeous navy, wide-legged silk pants and a matching long-sleeved top that snugged my upper body. My red curls bounced and shone in the mirror as she helped me add gold hoops to my ears and bangles on my good hand. Her two Fae carried a pair of blue velvet flats and placed them at my feet. I slipped them on. A perfect fit.

I strolled through the castle, taking the time to observe the art on the walls. All beautiful and abstract. Dark, just like the property, but somehow still warm and inviting.

I entered the dining room and stopped, thinking I had the wrong room. Gone was the long, gaudy table, replaced with a smaller, more intimate round one made of dark stained wood. A gorgeous bouquet of black and silver flowers anchored the center. I eyed Oden sitting in a grey wingback chair, two matching ones equally spaced around the table, and he gestured for me to sit.

“You look lovely,” he said without really looking at me and placed a napkin on his lap. He unbuttoned the charcoal vest he wore over a light grey shirt.

I scooted my chair in and forced back the wince that came with the use of my wrist. “Where’s Sullivan?”

“He’ll join us shortly.” He brought a glass of bourbon to his lips and inhaled before taking a sip.

The kitchen door swung open, and a server–one of the creatures from the kitchen–sauntered over and placed bowls of soup in front of us.

“Enjoy, Milord,” the horned Fae said to Oden and tipped its head. They turned to me with a genuine smile. No malice, no I’m-going-to-put-you-in-a-stew threats. “And Miss Quinn.”

So, it was all an act before. I managed a nod and a crooked half-smile. “Uh, thanks.”

They returned to the kitchen, and I stared down at the soup as I dragged a spoon through it. Butternut squash. One of my favorites. Trays of side dishes appeared; toasted baguettes with avocado, freshly baked buns, and steamed veggies soaked in butter.

“No theatrics this time?” I asked, licking a smear of avocado from my thumb.

Oden grabbed a fresh rosemary bun and tore it open, ignoring me. “Sullivan tells me you have news.”

I reached for another piece of baguette, and a small shot of pain lanced my wrist. “Yeah, buckle up because–”

“What’s wrong with your hand?”

“What?”

Those stormy eyes watched me like a hawk. “Your hand. You nurse it.”

“It’s fine.” I slipped it beneath the table.

A sense of boredom overcame him, and he focused on his soup. “How about a trade?”

“More deals? You can’t think I’m that stupid.”

His hand quietly clenched into a fist. “No deal, a trade. And that smart mouth of yours will get you into trouble.”

I raised a challenging brow. “With whom?” His eyes darkened as he chewed. I cradled my wrist in my lap, and my stomach tightened. “What sort of trade?”

“I’ll heal your injury and show you how to do it yourself.” He grinned like a cat at the little show of interest in my eyes.

But I didn’t reply. Not yet. Let the bastard wait like he’s made me wait so many times. With my good hand, I poured a glass of wine. Lightning fast, Oden tossed a bun at me, and I instinctively reached with my only free hand. I dropped the bun and winced as my back hunched over in the chair.

“Christ! Alright!” I stuck out my arm toward him. “Show me.”

Without hesitation, he cupped my hand in both of his. His hands were cold and firm. Not like Cillian’s, where the night lived in his skin, but like a cool, airy breeze. Magic thrummed from where we touched.

“Close your eyes.” He waited until I did. “Imagine your body like a fleshy machine, everything moving and working in motion. Feel for the wound, how it’s broken, and see what’s missing. Piece it back together.”

As he spoke, I drifted deep into the recesses of my mind, imagining everything he said in that soft, raspy voice, like the sexy villain in pretty much…everything. I focused on the working parts of my body, how the blood flowed, the heart pumped, and the lungs breathed.

I followed the blood down my arm and to my wrist, where I could sense how the bones weren’t placed right. I struggled, and Oden clenched my hand just a little, enough to push me forward, and I imagined it mirrored to my other hand.

A cold, tingly sensation brushed over my wrist, and I opened my eyes as Oden let go and leaned back in his chair. I blinked a few times and lifted my hand. It was completely healed.

“I did that?”

He took a spoonful of soup. “Didn’t you?”

I wanted to kick him. Sullivan came strutting in and shrugged out of his jacket. He passed it off to one of the servants. I hadn’t noticed just how defined he was; lithe muscles and cordage flexed beneath a tight shirt he wore over black jeans. His dirty combat boots were at least laced up. That long dark hair was swept back in a knot, and he gleamed at me.

“Get a good look, Red?” he said cheekily and took a seat. A bowl of soup was placed before him.

I shook my head and laughed. “I never realized how much you look like an Ironsider.”

Sullivan slurped his soup. “I get that a lot.”

“Why don’t you dress like them?” I asked. “Like a Lord, or whatever.”

“I spend a lot of time in Ironworld,” was his only reply. But I could tell he wanted to say more. The fleeting look he threw his brother told me so. “But you already knew that.”

After a weird moment of silence, Oden finally said, “Umbra is Sullivan’s pet project.”

My brows pinched together. “The club?” Sullivan nodded with a mouthful of food. “That atrocity is your doing?”

“Hey, now!” Crumbs fell from his mouth. “You came on a bad night. You got it all wrong, Red.”

“Umbra is a safe place for my people in Ironworld, and the energy it generates fuels back to the Dark Forest to keep the ilk satiated.”

I made a mental note to add these details to my book. “Ilk, like your friend Misery?”

“Misery is not a friend nor foe,” Oden clarified. “But one of many creatures birthed of darkness to balance all that is good. I do what I can to keep the darkest of my Fae contained within the forest. They can leave but at a great cost. They wreak havoc on one another, which feeds them. The pain, the sin, the desire. Every dark emotion or need haunts those woods. But it’s an essential part of my domain, of Faerie even. A…necessary evil, if you will.”

I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but Oden cleared his throat, stopping me.

“So, this news,” he said with an air of finality that told me that was the end of the other conversation.

I cut to the chase. “Vivian kidnapped me, drained my blood, and nearly killed me.”

He paled, and those eyes turned murky with thunder. “What?”

“Yeah, and that’s not the worst part,” I added. He exchanged an alarmed look with his brother, who only shrugged. “You may have ended your deal with her. But she never stopped harvesting Fae blood or trading with the vampires. She’s building her own army and plans to overthrow Mabry herself.” I grabbed another piece of avocado toast. “Maybe that was her plan all along.”

Oden gave me an incredulous look, one filled with calculation, as he realized just what the leader of the Therians had been up to.

“Did you seriously have no idea?” I asked.

He blinked away the storm in his eyes until they simmered to a soft blueish grey and rolled his shoulders as he took the last mouthful of bourbon. “I had inklings for months, but I needed a good reason to break the deal I had with her. I’m just surprised you were able to figure it out.”

I couldn’t tell him I was friends with Vivian’s daughter. That might put Max in more trouble than I’ve already dragged her into. I cleared my throat and turned my attention to Sullivan, who tapped the rim of his glass. I watched as it magically refilled with liquor. I looked to Oden and caught him filling his in the same manner.

“Can you teach me that?”

He and his brother exchanged a grin. “I’ll add it to the list.”

“There’s a running list?” I quipped and took a spoonful of soup. I wanted to moan at the soft, velvety taste. “Here, I thought your plan was to torture me slowly with boredom.”

“You were expecting torture?” he teased. Sullivan stifled a chuckle under his breath as Oden leaned closer, the darks of his eyes boring into me. “I can delve out whatever torture you like, Avery dear. But I assure you, you’ll be far from bored.”

“Alright then.” I pushed my bowl away. “What are we learning tonight? I’ve got limited time to do this, and I don’t want to waste a minute of it.”

Oden grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped his mouth. “Tomorrow, we train. Tonight, you learn.” He pushed out his chair and stood next to me. “I’ve got some reading material for you. Follow me.”

I grabbed another piece of baguette and hurried after him.

“See ya, Red!” Sullivan called.

I just nodded, mouth full of bread and avocado. I followed Oden down the torchlit corridor. A gentle breeze filled the castle, probably blowing in from whatever verandas and open arches there were. I still hadn’t seen the whole expanse of the property, but I knew it was massive.

Servants tipped their heads with genuine smiles as we passed. No fear, no trembling slaves, no scurrying away. I thought of helpful Mags, as rough around the edges as she was. And the kitchen staff, how they toyed with me that first night but were clearly just pulling my leg. His staff loved him dearly, respected him, even. They seemed to enjoy the work they did here.

I watched him as we walked. Studied the width of his shoulders under perfectly fitted clothes, how they moved with each step. The grace and power he exuded.

Finally, we stopped outside two beautifully ornate walnut doors. Oden pushed them open, and I hurried inside after him. It was an office. Bookshelves stocked with beautiful tomes reached the ceiling and lined half the room. A dark wooden desk anchored the space, topped with papers and maps and a small globe that clearly wasn’t the same Earth I knew.

Warmth radiated from a roaring fire nestled in a rock bed wall, and I stepped toward it as Oden plucked a book from the shelves.

“Here,” he said and thrust it toward me. I barely caught it. “Read that tonight.”

“What’s it about?” I asked, examining the worn black leather binding and thick, weathered parchment.

“It touches on the origins of magic and some history. Knowing how goes hand in hand with knowing what lies inside you.” He pointed at my chest.

The dark lord stood not a foot in front of me, those stormy eyes locking a firm grasp on me. I averted my gaze over his shoulder and did a double take at the painting above the fireplace.

I stepped around him, staring up at it. “That’s mine.”

It was the missing painting from Tess’s house. The one with the distant castle tops and flying creatures in the sky. Evaine must have stolen it after all.

“Is that so?” Oden grinned next to me.

“Yeah!” I reached for the painting, but he grabbed my wrist with lightning speed. I flashed him a heated look.

“Well, seeing as it’s a portrait of my home, I say we share.” When I refused to look away, he chuckled deeply under his breath. “I can pay you whatever sum you name.”

My throat suddenly tightened at one thought. I’d painted this place before I ever saw it. What did that mean? Was I meant to meet Oden and come here for help? Or was it a warning…an early vision before I knew what they were?

As much as I wanted to believe Oden was a good guy in all this, I had to remind myself that this man murdered the Seelie king and had me spied on and kidnapped. And, as if he could sense or smell my thoughts, Oden’s face tensed, and he released my arm as he took a step back.

A figure moved in the corner, and a soft shadow lurked across the floor. My heart tightened as I stared in horror for just a split second. A dog formed and galloped across the room for me, tongue hanging off to the side. I knelt with a smile and scratched his ears with both hands.

“Hey, boy!” I said and kissed his smooth forehead. His mighty tail beat against the floor. I glanced at Oden with a chuckle, but he gawked at the sight of us with a mask of awe.

“Kol,” he whispered unblinkingly.

I gave an exaggerated look of surprise to the dog and smoothed his fur. “So, you do have a name?” He licked my face. “This guy’s been keeping me company when you ignore me.”

Oden shook his head, a bewildered and unsure look about him.

I stood up. “What’s the matter? Afraid your dog will like me better than you?”

“It’s not my dog. It was my mother’s. We…haven’t seen him since her death.”

“Oh.” The word was dry in my mouth. I held the book tightly. “Well, I’m glad he decided to show up. I’m going to head up to my room and read.”

Oden seemed to snap out of the daze. “Oh, yes, of course.” He cleared his throat and busied with some papers on his desk. “I’ll see you in the morning for training.”

I left it at that, and Kol followed me back to my room. I sat in bed for hours, surrounded by dark silks and endless pillows. A warm night breeze sifted in through the open window as I slowly stroked Kol’s fur with one hand and read the book with my other. I didn’t know what to expect from the pages, but I inhaled the information.

It began with the origins of Faerie. Explained with passages and ancient sketches that told the tale of a sleeping world that was suddenly cleaved in two; Faerie and Ironworld born from it. Only Ironworld had only adopted the name in recent centuries. Before that, it was just the mortal realm. A world of non-magic, and then Faerie, a world that simply was magic. Everything here was made or birthed from it.

Other chapters explained how magic worked and how it’s almost a living thing and deserves to be used with respect. It touched on balance and how both worlds needed it. Good and bad, dark and light, happy and sad. One couldn’t exist without the other.

Other chapters were like history lessons detailing past kings and queens, lords, and ladies and how Faerie wasn’t always headed by a single court. The world was once divided equally for balance. But somewhere along the way, greed and power paved the path for thrones, and the Seelie court was formed. But the fighting never stopped and eventually led to the Great War, a magical civil war that drove the Therians into the mortal realm.

A yawn forced open my jaw, and I set the open book down on the bed as I stretched my arm and rolled my shoulders. Kol gave a low moan of disapproval at the absence of my fingers in his fur and nudged my arm with his cold, wet nose.

The breeze picked up and coaxed through the room, flipping the pages of my book until it landed on a later section, bookmarked with an elaborate chapter heading drawn of symbols and whorls I didn’t recognize. But the title I could read.

Origins of Witchcraft

What was anything to do with witches doing in a dark Fae lord’s personal library? As far as I knew, it was a mortal race that had long been taken out by the Therians. No one talked about it. As I read, I pulled the book toward me and propped my elbows on my lap.

Thousands of years ago, the Fae tried to share their world with humans and gifted them a spark of magic. It bled into nature for them to use; thus, witches and sorcerers were born. The rulers of Faerie adored their creation, and they knew extensions of their world that pulsed into the mortal realm were to be protected.

This information was lost and buried. Julie once told me that humans experimented with Fae blood to force magic into their bodies. But according to this, it was a gift.

Another yawn rocked through me, and Kol snuggled closer, resting his giant, heavy head in my lap.

I chuckled quietly and scratched behind one of his soft ears. “Is that a hint for me to go to sleep?”

He breathed a nasal sigh in response. I set the book aside and shimmied further into the bed, the heaps of blankets and pillows hugging me. I drifted off in a matter of minutes, only to wander right into a vivid dreamscape of a roaring sea. I stood on a wet, sandy beach of smooth black granules and watched as waves of jade crashed into jagged rocks, catching flecks of moonlight.

To my left, and far down the beach, stood a figure draped in red. Her long crimson hair cascaded down her body and bled into her gown. Her back was turned, and I yearned to run to her.

“Do you want it?”

I spun around, and Tess was there. She smiled warmly and held out a golden crown embedded with yellow jewels. Words evaded me, and I glanced back to the woman in red. She was gone. And when I turned back to my aunt, Oden stood in her place, holding out a dark crown molded with sharp peaks and obsidian gems.

“Do you want it?” His deep, raspy tone vibrated through me, and I stood there, speechless. Thoughtless. I didn’t know what I wanted. But it certainly wasn’t a crown of any kind.

I opened my mouth to speak, and something sucked me out of the dream. I blinked at the dark canopy overhead, the dewy morning sun filtering through the fibers. Kol was nowhere to be seen. Someone banged on the door, and I begrudgingly slipped out of the blankets, letting all the warmth escape.

I opened the door a few inches to see Oden standing there.

“Did you read the book?”

I rubbed at my sleepy eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, I did, but–”

“Good. Meet me in the front courtyard in ten minutes.” He spun on his heel and disappeared before I could even reply.

I grabbed the first thing I touched in the wardrobe and hauled it on; a pair of silky black slacks and a tank top with a sheer golden blouse. I didn’t bother tying my boots, just tucked the laces inside and hastily brushed my teeth before wrangling my hair into a ponytail.

My fists clenched as I stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed tightly. But I didn’t need to focus as hard as I usually did to wisp, the magic flowed through me with ease, and I stepped through the fabric of space and time into the courtyard in front of Oden’s castle.

He stood waiting, hands tucked behind him, the neck of his grey tunic left unbuttoned. It was the first time I’d seen him outside his usual formal attire.

“You’re late,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was serious.

I just gave him a look. “Listen, you woke me up less than half an hour ago, and I haven’t had coffee. Be thankful I’m not chewing you a new ass.”

The horror on his face made me smile with delight. “It’s just an expression, chill.”

“You sound like my brother sometimes.” He gestured for me to join him on a nearby bench. A large one carved of marble. I crossed one leg over the other, and he handed me a cup of steaming coffee he seemed to pull out of thin air.

I accepted it with a moan, letting the warmth seep into my hands, and the coffee soothed my insides with just one sip. “So, what am I learning today?”

“Did you read anything about magic of the mind?”

I thought for a moment. “Yeah, there’s certain Fae, a select few, who can wield powers of the mind. Dreams, nightmares. Can manifest them as well as walk through them.”

“Yes, and others have abilities to see moments in time. Past, present, and even future.”

I nodded and took another delicious sip. It had a sweet aftertaste. “The Oracle.”

Oden casually began rolling up his sleeves. “The only one I knew of was part human, but somewhere along the line, was clearly a Fae ancestor.”

“Because he’d lived so long?”

Oden gave me a look of surprise. “That wasn’t in the book.”

“I’ve been researching you guys and your world for months,” I replied, my mouth suddenly dry. “Especially after I learned that I might be some mortal Oracle, too. I want to know what my mind’s capable of instead of this mess of visions and weird bits of dreams I can’t make sense of.”

He leaned forward on his thighs, the thick cordage of his arms flexing in the sunlight as he wove his long fingers together. A curtain of white hair fell over his shoulder.

“Think of the mind as a series of never-ending doors, and behind each is a memory, a thought. But the same applies to the universe. To time itself. Everything is reachable by someone like you.”

A sort of coldness took hold of my chest. “I don’t want that kind of power.”

He chortled and leaned back on the bench. “Well, whether you want it or not, you’ve got a gift for magic of the mind. It wouldn’t hurt to learn as much as you can.”

“So, where do I start?”

He spent the rest of the day teaching me. I learned to search my own mind and feel for the strings of power. I visited memories I’d long forgotten about, rooted in my childhood and my life with Tess. Smells and sounds and feelings…mostly happy, carefree. Simple. A stark contrast to the life I now lived.

For hours I surfed my mind, then even more hours practicing how to home in on my visions, on the part of my brain that somehow tapped into the fate of others. It was simple, really. Almost too simple. Magic came so easily here in Faerie, unlike the struggle I felt when trying to maintain control over it at home.

Oden slipped away a couple times to deal with lordly duties and left me to practice on my own, and, honestly, it was almost better. I didn’t have to worry about his scrutinizing face, and those dauntless eyes fixated on my every move.

The sun had long set when he finally returned the second time, the curved handle of a wicker basket clutched in his hand.

“Hungry?” he asked, dangling it. His smile wasn’t enough to distract me from the bags under his eyes. I wondered what sort of things he’d been dealing with all day.

I rolled over on the grass and closed the book I’d been reading. More histories of Faerie and tales of great leaders before our time. Oden joined me on the ground, and we sat across from one another. It looked strange; a dark lord of Faerie perched on the dewy evening grass with a basket of food.

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. “What’s on the menu?’ I asked and peered inside the basket.

“Freshly baked buns, cheeses, fruits, and nuts,” he replied as he took each item out and lay on the grass between us. He snapped his fingers, and a cozy blanket suddenly appeared beneath us. “And Freya’s homemade meatballs,” he added and scooped up a tiny ceramic pot. He removed the lid, and a cloud of delicious smells wafted out.

My stomach growled. “I hadn’t even realized I was hungry until now.”

“Apologies,” Oden said and handed me a fork. “I forget that normal people eat several times a day. I work so much; I barely get time for a single meal most days. Having you stay with us has given the kitchen staff some reprieve from my usual coffee and whatever I can stuff in my pocket on my way out.” He chuckled under his breath. “Usually, a muffin or a piece of fruit.”

“I get it. My diet consists of whatever I can nab from the bakery as I leave for school or work.” I speared a giant meatball and took a bite. It was heavenly. “Or leftovers from the occasional dinner Julie makes. But that’s usually a pre-made lasagna or something. At best.”

He shoved a piece of cheese to the side of his mouth. “Pre-made?”

“Yeah, like store-bought boxed lasagna? Haven’t you ever seen it?” His look of confusion told me otherwise. "Haven’t you ever spent time in Ironworld?”

Oden inhaled deeply through his nose as he stared off thoughtfully. “It’s been a while since I last visited the mortal realm in person, aside from our few meetings.”

How he said in person made me wonder how many dreams he’d invaded over the years. How many nightmares did he manifest for Fae and mortals alike? Could the Dark Lord of Nightmares tap into the mind of a Therian? I knew nothing about the person sitting across from me and sharing his supper.

In a blink, the world vanished, and I sat on the castle's cold stone floor of some wing. As I stood, a woman’s scream pierced the hazy air, and I followed the sound to an open doorway. A man–Fae–lay on the floor, his long silvery hair soaking up a pool of fresh blood as another Fae male stood over him, holding a bloody heart in his hand. In the corner, a beautiful young woman cried. Her rounded ears told me she was human, and they widened when her soft brown eyes saw me.

“Oden!”

A gasp rocked my chest, and I stumbled backward into another vision. Or was it a memory? I cradled the same human woman, only she was much older. She reached up and caressed my cheek, and tears streamed down my face as she faded away. The moonlight blanketed her lifeless expression, and I hugged her frail body tightly as I wept.

Something grabbed my shoulder and hauled me from the dreamscape. I sucked in a fresh breath of air and planted both hands on the ground to steady myself.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“What?” I panted and looked sideways at Oden. He was furious.

He bolted to his feet. “How dare you pry inside my mind uninvited!”

I scrambled up. “I didn’t mean to! You think I want to be roaming around in there? One minute I was eating a meatball, and the next–”

“Enough!” He poked my shoulder with enough force to make me wince. “Don’t ever go inside my mind again.”

“Or what?” His answering look sent a shiver down my spine. I almost didn’t want to know how that would end. I stomped down the fear that chilled my insides. “Screw you!”

He grabbed his jacket with a low growl and stormed off for the mansion. Rage festered in my gut, and I kicked over the croc of meatballs. Oden spun on his heel, but I clenched my fist and wisped back to my quarters. Kol appeared in a spiral of black smoke and sat waiting on the bed, but I couldn’t sit down, couldn’t stop from pacing the floor.

I wasn’t just upset. A range of emotions flooded my veins and sent my heart racing. What I’d seen in Oden’s mind, in his memories… was awful. He witnessed his father’s murder when he was just a boy and his mother’s eventual death. I felt what he’d felt.

I slipped out of my clothes and took a bath. The steam, bubbles, and oils soaked the tension from my body, and the water was barely room temperature by the time I got out. I wrapped my body in a navy silk robe and crawled over the mattress toward Kol. His tail whipped against the blankets.

A piece of parchment appeared on the bed. With a sigh, I flicked it open.

Apologies once again.

The period was so large as if he’d let the pen sit there a moment, and the ink bled into a big black dot, followed by the words, good wisping.

A smug smile pinched my cheeks, and I set the message on fire. I watched it burn and turn to ash in my hands before blowing it onto the floor. The mattress groaned under my weight as I snuggled in and wrapped an arm around Kol.

“It was great wisping.”

 

***

 

The following day, Mags brought me a tray of breakfast foods and some coffee. Apparently, Oden had ordered me to meet him in the stables first thing.

“You don’t have time for a bath,” she said as she fussed my hair into a thick braid.

“I had one before I went to bed,” I replied, feeling like a child. “Do you personally make sure all the guests are bathed?”

Mags put her hands on her hips. “What guests? You’re the only one Lord Oden has ever permitted. I haven’t tended to guests since his father’s rule.”

“What?” I nearly choked on a grape.

“And it’s my job as waiting-maid, especially with female guests, to ensure they’re prepared to navigate their days in the kingdom and to be presentable for my lord.”

I finished getting ready in silence, my mind full of thoughts and questions about how long these halls were empty, aside from Oden, his brother, and the staff. Did he not throw events? Have family that came for the holidays? Did Fae have holidays?

Mags gave me an outfit of comfortable black pants, almost like denim, and a long-sleeved navy blouse under an ankle-length black jacket that nearly covered the wine-colored boots I wore.

“Here,” she said and shoved a brown leather shoulder bag at me. “For the trip.”

“Trip?”

She chuckled and began scooping up her things. “That bugger. He really loves to leave you in the dark, doesn’t he?”

I shrugged and slung the long strap over my shoulder as I rolled my eyes. “He’s the lord of darkness. I’d expect nothing less.”

Mags gently but firmly gripped my arm, her big black eyes wide and fixed on me. “He’s the lord of many things, Avery Quinn, but the kind of darkness you think isn’t one of them.” She released my arm and gestured for the door. “You’ll see. Stables are off the North wing. Just head down across the lawn and follow your nose.”

Her words left me unsettled, and the way her face pinched at that last part told me she wasn’t a fan of the stables. But I’d be fine. I grew up in the country riding our neighbor’s horses and helping tend them every summer.

I wove through the castle until I found the North wing, thanks to the help of one of the staff. I’d never been to this part of the massive property before and took my time admiring the artwork of maps and gardens and strange symbols I didn’t know how to read. Even though the mansion had a library, stocked bookshelves were tucked in every nook and cranny; empty hallways, spacious corners, and even built-in to furniture.

I wondered if it was for show, for the whole castle-vibe aesthetic, or did Oden truly read that much? When you could live forever, I guess you had to find never-ending hobbies. I wanted to stop and read some of the titles, but I knew he was waiting for me.

I found the stables easily. As Mags said, I just followed the scent of hay and manure, a smell that rustled up memories of summers passed. I’d worked for Mr. Dempsey for three summers on top of my other odd jobs to save for my Vespa. I laughed at how I didn’t even need the bike now that I could wisp where I wanted to go.

Two silky black horses whinnied as I entered the stables. Oden stood between them, reins in each hand.

“What took you so long?”

I stifled a grumble. “Look, you may be able to snap your fingers and get ready, but I’m a lowly mortal who actually has to put their pants on one leg at a time.”

He wouldn’t look at me. “I hope you can ride; I don’t have time to teach you.”

The way he said it with such a snark made me want to kick him in the leg. It was almost as if he wanted me to be ill-equipped to ride. Was he still pissed about last night?

I held out a palm with a smug look. “Actually, I’ve been riding for years.” With a raised brow, he placed the reins in my hand, and I hopped into the saddle with ease. I stared down at him. “Hope you can keep up.”

His face was blank as he mounted the other black beast. He halted and tied his hair back.

“Do they have names?” I asked as I stroked the mane.

Something tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No, I just call them my night mares.”

It took me a second, but I laughed. “Did you just tell a joke?”

“If you’re lucky, you might get another.” He left the stable.

I made my horse follow and sidle up to Oden’s left. We fell into an easy trot, and silence let the sounds of nature surround us as we went. The crunch of dirt beneath hooves, the rustle of wind in the cherry trees.

An hour must have passed before the silence became too much for me. I tipped my chin toward the cherry trees lining the land to our left.

“So, what’s with all the cherry trees?”

“My mother had them planted when I was establishing the boundaries for the Dark Fae. They’re not allowed to pass them, and, on this side, we harvest the fruit each year for my people. In fact, that’s where we’re going, to one of the towns to discuss matters of the upcoming cherry festival.”

“Cherry festival?” I balked. “That sounds like something from a kid’s book, not the land of nightmares.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get one thing clear here, Avery. My land is vast and diverse. I’ve done my best to keep the darkest of Fae contained and satiated so the rest of my people, people no different than you in terms of morality, can thrive. Yes, I may have been tasked with leading the dark, but it’s just a small part of my job. This is not the land of nightmares you think it to be.”

My throat tightened. “Sorry.”

We moved along the wide dirt path for another half an hour in more silence. I scanned the forests, admired the clearing, and was awed at all the different animal life that passed us. Blackbirds with golden wings, deer with twisted horns of obsidian. I sketched them all into my mind.

“Apologies for my behavior last night,” Oden finally spoke with a strained rasp. He stared straight ahead.

“Thanks,” I said, gripping the saddle. “I’m learning. I’m going to make mistakes. So, if you ever talk to me like that again, I’ll singe your pretty hair until you’re bald.”

He let out a guttural laugh and seemed just as surprised as me at the outburst. As if he hadn’t truly laughed in years. “Noted.” He glanced down at his horse and then at mine before bringing those stormy eyes to me. He arched a brow. “Care to race?”

“Are you up to the challenge, milord?” Mocking him brought me a sense of joy I never knew I needed.

With his hair pinned back, more of those pointed ears showed and added to the sharp features of his face. He looked at me like a devious cat and kicked his horse into gear. I watched as he took off, leaving me in little dust clouds. I squeezed my legs, and my horse raced after them.

It’d been a while since I last rode, especially this hard. I almost forgot how it made my heart soar. My limbs pulsed as my veins burned with adrenaline, and I gripped the reins, leaning forward as I approached Oden. He glanced over his shoulder and lowered himself closer to the horse as it sped up, and I laughed through the rush that burst through my chest as I did the same.

We laughed together as I finally passed him and came to a screeching halt where a creek cut across the path. His horse skidded to a stop next to me, and he dismounted it before tying the rein around a tree. He turned to me with an extended hand, but I quickly swung my leg and hopped down before he could offer help.

“Impressive.” He removed his black leather gloves.

“You can turn moonlight into solid objects, and you think riding a horse is impressive?”

Oden gave me an exasperated look and shook his head with a half smile as he glanced up at the sun with a sigh. “I was going to teach you more magic of the mind as we rode today since you’re still so ill-prepared.” He ignored my eye roll. “But it seems a perfect time to show you how to wield.”

“Wield?”

“Turning the light into things, as you say.”

I clapped my hands together. “Awesome, this is what I’ve been waiting for.”

“You can summon the light with ease now?”

I nodded and turned my palms up, letting a pulsing ball of sunlight fill them.

Oden slowly paced in front of me, one hand tucked behind his back. “Now, close your eyes and picture an object in your mind. Note the lines, the curves, and the space it takes up. Feel that in your hands. Mold the light.”

I pictured a dagger as I did once before and hadn’t been able to replicate since. But now, I was more in control of my power and could wield it more confidently. It didn’t own me; it was part of me. I couldn’t be afraid of it. I learned that embracing the great power that lived in me was the key to controlling it because the moment I hesitated and the second I relinquished control, things would fall apart.

“There we go,” Oden said hesitantly. “Hold it.”

I opened my eyes. A dagger of golden light rested in my hands, and my heart danced a little. I slowly gripped the rounded end, and it solidified even more. It was like holding metal and stone and glass all at once.

The blade flickered and shot out from both ends, becoming a sword instantly, and I dropped it to the ground, where it disappeared.

“Shit,” I grumbled.

Oden chuckled, fetched two beautifully wrapped sandwiches from his saddle bag, and handed one to me. “You’ll get it. Just keep practicing what I showed you.”

“Thanks.” I unwrapped the carefully folded brown paper and remembered the bag that Mags gave me that dangled at my side. I fished out a small tin of brownies and two apples.

We walked off to the side of the path where two large flat rocks were and sat down with our spread. We ate our sandwiches–the most delicious deli-like sandwich I’d ever had–in comfortable silence. Half the brownies disappeared before either of us spoke.

“Do you like being the Lord of Nightmares?” I asked.

He gave me a look that said he’d never been asked such a question before, and it took him a moment to respond. “I enjoy my role in the lives of my people.” He sighed deeply. “But sometimes, a part of me wishes I could just hand it all over.”

“Where would you go?”

He took the last brownie and tore it down the middle. “My domain is vast, even bigger than the Seelie Court when you account for the unclaimed land,” he replied and handed me half the brownie.

I plopped it in my mouth and shoved it to the side as I chewed. “So, what would you choose to be if not a lord?”

Oden gave me a sideways grin. “King has a nice ring to it.”

So, he wanted the Seelie throne after all.

The horses whinnied to go, and Oden stood up from the rock. “We should get going if we want to make it back by dark.”

I stuffed the tin and apples in my bag and hopped on my horse.

It took about another hour to get to the village from there. But I used that time to practice wielding. Oden just watched from the side, careful, curious, but never hovering. By the time the rooftops breached the hilltops, I could easily form the dagger, and I breathed a sigh of relief as I tucked my magic away.

It was a quaint and surprisingly modern little place, bustling with life as Fae busied about. Some stood on ladders, hanging red garlands. Others used magic to turn the flowers in planters and beds from blue to red and black. At the far end of a spacious town square, vendors set up wooden stands and a giant stone fire pit with grills.

Oden pulled up to a larger building made of pale rock, the same rock used for most structures, even the stone-laid streets. Carvings of winged creatures marked the entrance, where we dismounted and tied up the horses.

“This is the closest town to the castle,” Oden told me as I continued to take in the beauty of the modern village. Kids played in the distance, restaurants opened their windows to let out billows of steam, and jewels glistened in storefronts. “Welcome to Haven.”

“Aptly named,” I replied and turned to the building we stood outside of.

“I’ll just be a few minutes in here,” he said. “You’re welcome to join me, or you can wait here.”

“All this way just for a quick visit?”

He grinned. “I have many stops to make, Avery dear.”

“And what was the point of bringing me along?” I gestured for him to walk toward the entrance, and I followed.

“Like I said, my duties as lord of this domain don’t stop just because you’re here. But I also have a duty to uphold our bargain. I thought I would teach you some things along the way.” There was a glistening in the corner of his eye. “Gods forbid I waste your precious time.”

I wanted to slap his arm, but with all those eyes on us, I wasn’t sure if casually assaulting their lord was a good idea. I crossed my arms and walked with him to the double door entrance as it swung open, revealing a beautiful Fae woman with long chestnut hair swept back from her face with wooden combs.

“Milord!” she greeted. “You’re just in time!”

“Now, now, Misaldri,” he said with a chuckle as he embraced her. “I’ve told you to call me Oden. When will you learn?”

“Perhaps another hundred years,” she replied and winked at me. “And who is this?”

“Misaldri, this is my friend, Avery Quinn.” The word friend almost seemed hard for him to say. “Avery, dear, this is Misaldri Leester, the mayor of Haven.”

“Mayor?” My eyes widened in disbelief, and I shook her hand.

“Yes,” she answered for him. “Someone’s got to run this place for him while he’s off–” Oden loudly cleared his throat, and she gave him a look that said oh, please. “Come,” she said, holding a gentle hand at my back. “We could use the extra set of hands.”

Oden almost looked panicked. “Oh, I’m only here–”

“Come, now,” she said and yanked him along.

The kitchen brimmed with people in aprons, each tending to a task on one of the many surfaces. It was the most enormous kitchen I’d ever seen, even more so than the one in Oden’s castle. Cream-colored cabinetry reached the ceiling, fronted with glass to show off the beautiful dishes inside. White marble veined with gold stretched as far as the eye could see, bending in an L on each end, anchored by a giant island in the center.

Heads turned toward us, lending smiles and greetings. Oden soaked it up as he began shaking hands, and I noted the scattered items. Flour, sugar, eggs, and bowls and bowls of cherries. Rolling pins and spoons clanked, steamed billowed from bubbling pots.

Pies? They were making cherry pies.

“Here you go.” Misaldri held out both hands, each offering a cream-colored apron. I exchanged a look of surprise with Oden, but his was fake. He chuckled softly and strung the apron over his head. Misaldri shook the one in front of me and smiled widely, her perfect teeth gleaming. “You don’t want to ruin your clothes.”

I took it and leaned toward Oden. “I-I don’t bake.”

Those steely eyes raked over every line of my face with delight. “Racing horses is easy, but you draw the line at baking?”

I shrugged. “I’m just not great at it. At all.”

Oden half turned toward a giant table with benches on either side. He fetched a large bowl of fresh cherries and ushered me to sit down.

“You can still help,” he said, setting the bowl in front of me. Misaldri handed him an empty one, and he put it on the table next to it. “Pit the cherries.”

I stared at everything but couldn’t bring myself to be mad about it. I sat in the kitchen of a Fae mayor, escorted by the Dark Lord of Nightmares, and got to pit cherries for pies as I glanced out an open window at people preparing for a festival. It was like a scene from a movie.

“Are we seriously doing this?” I asked.

He handed me a thin wooden skewer. “Yes.”

Oden went to help make crusts as I started shoving the skewer through the cherries and dropping them into the bowl. After a few minutes, three kids no older than ten sat with me and began pitting their own cherries. The mayor laughed and smiled at me, and I found Oden’s delighted stare from across the room.

I widened my eyes. “You gave me the kid’s job?”

His laugh got lost with the others as everyone chuckled at my expense, but I couldn’t help but laugh, too. I never expected to have fun today. Honestly, I’d pictured another fight with Mister Moody. I was beginning to learn just how tumultuous he was. Like the storm I often saw in his eyes, his behavior was unpredictable. One minute he’s aloof; the next, he’s brooding. And I witnessed firsthand how he could go from partially bored to pissed and raging in half a second.

“Why are you staring at Oden?” one dark-haired kid asked a little too loudly.

I snapped out of my daze and realized he was right. “I wasn’t,” I replied, focusing on my cherries. “I was just admiring the kitchen.”

They were adorable with their large almond eyes and slightly pointed ears sticking out from their chestnut hair. Siblings, clearly, and definitely Misaldri’s kids. I could see her in their features the more I looked at them.

“You’re not Fae,” another one asked.

“Nope,” I said. “Well, I’m partially Fae.”

“Can you do magic?” the one next to me added.

I nodded and held out a red-stained palm. A spark of sunshine formed, and their eyes widened with glee. I noticed a few heads turn discreetly in my direction, so I quickly tucked it away.

One of the triplets across from me shrugged as he pitted his cherries. “That’s pretty good, I guess. For a mortal.”

“Half mortal,” his brother corrected, which warranted an eye roll from the other.

Kids were so brutally honest and straight to the point. I like them for it. I’d babysat enough over the years to get a taste of their cut-and-dry ways. These Fae boys were no different.

I spent hours sitting at that table and pitted endless bowls of delicious dark cherries. I learned the boys’ names were Simon, Valdri, and Theon, and they learned just about every detail of my existence as they drilled me question after question.

Eventually, they grew bored and ran off to play somewhere, leaving me to pit by myself while Oden crafted surprisingly perfect pie crusts. I lost count after a hundred. Just how many pies did this festival need?

Eventually, I nabbed some extra dough from the center island and molded a slew of pastry flowers. I placed them on a tray and handed them to one of the staff.

“My word,” they said, admiring my work. “These will go on the pies for the auction.”

“Yes,” an older Fae woman agreed with a nod as she peered over his shoulder. “Far too pretty for the eating contest.”

“And much too delicate for transport to the other towns,” another chimed in.

So that’s why we made so many; other cherry festivals were happening. I wondered if those towns were like Haven or did they differ in look and size? Were they also making pies or contributing to the festivals in some other way? Was it a massive group effort throughout the land?

I sat at the table and spotted Oden at the far end of the kitchen near an open back door as he helped haul in giant bags of flour and stack them on the floor. The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up as far as they could go, showing off the corded muscles of his arms. His apron was splattered with flour and red juice. For a moment, I forgot he was the dark ruler of a Faerie domain and someone capable of killing the Seelie king.

Something soured at the bottom of my stomach, and I forced myself to look away just as Misaldri sat across from me and slid a whole pie in my direction.

“It’s chocolate pecan,” she said and picked off a bite with a fork. “Figured you’re sick of cherries.”

I cautiously took a bite, ignoring how she watched my every movement. A creamy, nutty, chocolatey flavor burst into my mouth, and the mayor chuckled at my widened eyes.

“It’s one of my favorites, too,” she said and ate more.

I couldn’t resist. It was the best pie I’d ever tasted, and soon a quarter of it was gone. Oden was still helping the staff move things around and get pies in a giant oven.

“His mother used to do this,” Misaldri told me as she watched him with me. “The cherry festivals were actually her creation. After she died, Oden took it upon himself to keep it going.”

I poked at a large piece of pecan with the tip of my fork. “Seems a bit out of character for someone like him.”

Misaldri seemed to want to say something but held her tongue instead. We continued sharing the pie in silence for a few moments before she asked, “So, where did you learn to make pastry flowers like that?”

I shoved a bunch of pie to the side of my cheek. “Oh, uh, I’ve used clay as a medium many times.” I shrugged. “It’s basically the same idea, just more delicate.”

“You’re an artist?”

“Sort of,” I replied. “I mean, yes, I am. I’ve created my whole life in some way or another, and I’m taking classes in Ironworld right now.”

She perked up in her seat. “Then you must come to the festival! It’s all about art and dance and good food. All the best artists in the lands will be there.” She glanced at Oden. “His mother adored art, you see. She wanted to celebrate it.”

I set the fork down and leaned back. “I can’t. I…I only come during each full moon.”

The space between her eyebrows pinched. “You can’t come any other time?”

I thought for a moment. I mean, I could if I wanted to. I was free to do whatever I pleased. But the idea of telling Cillian I was staying a few more days to enjoy a festival might fracture the delicate understanding between us. He knew I needed to come here to gain control over the magic that resided in me, for my sake and his. But coming here for pleasure…

I gave her a genuine smile. “Thank you for the invitation, Misaldri. But I’m afraid I have obligations in Ironworld that I can’t ignore.”

She reached across the table and took both my hands in hers. “Well, the invitation stands. Come any time. You’ll always have a place to stay here.” She gently squeezed my hands and patted them before letting go and sitting back with a quiet sigh. “But, if you can’t come for the festival, at least stay for a cup of creamy cider.”

“Creamy cider?”

She snapped her fingers and two steaming cups, practically bowls, appeared in front of us. I inhaled the warm aroma of cinnamon and spice mixed with thick, creamy milk.

“Well, how can I say no to that?” I said, and we shared a laugh as we sipped.

It was like drinking Christmas and Halloween from a cup, and I relished the thick, creamy cider filling my insides. It was the most fantastic thing I’d ever tasted, and I pondered how I might get the recipe for the café back home.

“So, if you can just make things appear with the snap of your fingers, why go through all this trouble to handmake pies and prep for the festivals?”

She gave me a look that seemed to ask you don’t know, but she took a moment to reply. Her long Fae fingers wrapped around the massive mug as she thought. “When you can live forever, it’s easy to let life pass you by without actually touching it. If we snapped our fingers and used magic for everything, how would we appreciate the little things? How would we know the feeling of reaping the rewards of hard work?”

“That makes sense,” I said and took another long sip.

Oden walked up to our table as he removed his soiled apron. Not a spec touched him outside of where the apron covered, and I wondered if he protected his skin and fine clothes with magic.

“It’s time to go,” he told me, his face unreadable as he unrolled the sleeves of his tunic.

Misaldri stood up from her seat. “Thank you for all your help today, milord.” She glanced at me. “And apologies for monopolizing your guest.”

“Not at all,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “You’re actually saving me a headache.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled at the mayor. “Thanks for having me, and best of luck with the festivals.”

She nodded. “Of course. And my offer still stands.” She snapped her fingers, and a thermos appeared in her hands. “Some creamy cider for the road.”

I accepted it and said goodbye to the rest of the staff before following Oden outside. The sun dipped in the sky, and ribbons of orange and purple danced over the tree tops.

We walked to the horses, and I untied the reins of my mare. “So, Dark Lord of Nightmares, pain in my ass, and…pie maker? You’ve got quite the roster of skills.”

Oden untied his horse with a blank and distant expression. “The pain in your rear end I do for free.” I muttered a playful curse under my breath as I hopped in the saddle and adjusted myself. The fact that I’d been enjoying myself here all day rather than learning magic suddenly hit me, and self-loathing set in like poison. “The pies, however–”

“You do for your mother, I get it,” I said quickly and chewed at my lip as I scanned the beautiful town. I could feel Oden’s eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look at him. I just wanted to leave before I fell even more in love with Haven.

“Lord Oden,” someone said quietly from a line of thick bushes that trimmed the edge of the property. An older female Fae. She wore thick brown denim, and her hands showed signs of hard work. “May I have a word?”

“Of course,” the dutiful lord replied and handed me the reins of his horse.

He took a few steps to the side to speak privately with her. She told him something with a lowered voice and eyes full of concern. Oden’s back stiffened as his stormy gaze turned dark, and his brows rose. I couldn’t hear them, but I could plainly see the one word that moved his mouth.

Where?

The woman gave him some more details, and he nodded with thanks before sending her on her way. He paused before he walked back to me and took the leather straps from my hands without a word.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

He threw himself into the saddle with artful ease, flinging his long white hair over his shoulder as he stared at me with those storm-filled eyes. I swear, I saw lightning flash in them as he blinked. So quick that I almost missed it. His expression was riddled with thought and calculation. Was he going to tell me the truth or hand me lies, just like everyone else in my life?

Finally, his broad shoulders rolled with a sigh that rocked through him, and he leaned forward on his horse. “There was a body found at the edge of the Dark Forest near a logging road. A group of loggers found it. That was one of them.”

Something cold filled my chest. “A-are you going to call off the festivals?”

“No,” he replied quickly but seemed to be considering it. “That would only cause a riot. The loggers are keeping it quiet until I get to the bottom of it.” He flicked the reins, and his horse trotted back down the trail we came from, and I followed close behind.

It wasn’t the Dark Forest that lined the path, but the darkness between the trees looked different going back, and I had to remind myself to take full breaths as we rode. My eyes were locked on the shadows, watching for signs of movement. As if my horse could sense my worry, she sidled next to Oden’s.

“Do you think it was Misery or some other dark Fae from the forest?” I asked.

He grumbled deeply. “It’s possible, but I don’t think they’re that brazen. I’ll find out once we get back.”

The way he spoke made me think he suspected who or what might have done it, but he wasn’t going to tell me, so I didn’t bother to ask. I didn’t blame him for wanting a moment’s peace to think through everything. Between training me, running a domain, dealing with the ilk of the Dark Forest, the threat from Ironworld, and now this mysterious murder…I got it. I understood the need to think in peace. He carried the burden of being a leader, even a dark one, on his shoulders; I couldn’t do it.

We rode in silence until we reached the same creek that cleaved the path, and we dismounted to give the horses a break. I took my thermos of creamy cider and walked down to a set of large stones. I sat on a rock and sipped my new favorite beverage, and the ground crunched beneath Oden’s boots as he neared.

I gnawed at the inside of my cheek. “Can I ask you something?”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and fixed his gaze on the horizon. “I know you will, regardless of what I say.”

“Did you know what Vivian was up to?”

He inhaled deeply through his nose, eyes still distant and unblinking. “I expected some kind of backstabbing or betrayal. It’s just their nature. But not like this.” He guffawed and stared down at his feet. “But they’re not bound by gilded promises, not like I am. I never thought I’d see the day when Therians and vampires work together. They’ve been enemies since the day the shapeshifters moved to Ironworld.”

“Do you think she can do it? You think she can win?”

“Her plan only works in theory,” he replied. “We have no idea if drinking Fae blood will grant the vampires access to Faerie. They may very well turn to ash the moment they step foot here. But if it works….”

I swallowed dryly. “We’re all fucked?”

He looked at me with such a gleam in his eye. “Not if my plan works.”

“And what plan is that?” I asked and offered my cider without thinking.

He came closer, and his fingertips brushed mine as he took the thermos, and I saw it. The deep longing in his eyes. The sense of purpose, drive, and determination to save not just the world he ruled but the one he loved.

A flash of guilt flicked over him, and he stiffened as he brought the rim to his lips and drank. He handed it back to me. “You’re learning fast. With the magic.”

I sighed as I twisted the top back on. “It’s actually easier here.” I stood up and took a few steps to the water’s edge, peering into it. “Like I walked through some kind of fog. But it’s exhausting most days. Like I’m using double the energy to do everything.”

“You’re living an immortal life inside a semi-mortal body, Avery. It’s unnatural.”

I didn’t reply because the weight of his words rang true in my mind. I knew, deep down, I couldn’t stay this way forever. I just didn’t want to face that fact yet.

I heard him approach, and his face appeared in the water beside mine. We stared at one another’s reflections. “I can fix it, you know? I can lift the bind, take away all that makes you human.” I stilled. “You’d be as you were born.” He waved a hand in front of my face, and my reflection changed; a slightly longer neck and more prominent eyes, my hair glowed like liquid embers, and two pointed ears peeked out from it. “Fae.”

I allowed myself to stare at it for a moment before turning away. “No. I value my humanity.”

“But it’s a lie.”

I shrugged as I spun back around. “My whole life is a lie. But I’m used to this one.” His eyes were like two moons beaming back at me. Sadness rimmed them. “Besides, I already have a way to do that. Oliver saved all that he took and kept it in an orb.”

“Use it, take it back,” he almost pleaded, but his face remained neutral. “Become Fae and have complete and utter control over your powers. Who knows what you could do if you shed that human skin.”

I backed away, slowly shaking my head. “I can’t do that. I’m not….” My throat tightened with a dry swallow. “I’m not ready.”

Oden took one long step toward me. “You need to get ready. Soon.”

“What’s the urgency?” I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets as I tried to read his face.

He thought for a second. “If we can get you to where you need to be if you can learn to fully use that Summer sun, then not only could you be Faerie’s savior, but you’d be mine.”

It all fell into place, the pieces clicking in my mind like a countdown. Oden hired Evaine to watch me, then kidnap me. Then insisted on helping me control my magic, my Summer sun before Vivian invaded Faerie.

With vampires.

I narrowed my eyes. “You son of a bitch.”

His expression told me he didn’t expect me to get mad, and he came toward me with open palms, his brows raised. “Now listen. Yes, I made a deal with Vivian to use vampires to overthrow Mabry and take the throne in exchange for letting the Therians back into Faerie. But not like this. Vivian had secretly been building an even bigger army of vampires to take the throne for herself. Now all the world’s bloodsuckers will come here and destroy everything, killing everyone. Vivian won’t leave a single Fae alive. I need to fix this; I need to stop her.”

I squared my jaw, my eyes stinging with wetness. “And you’re going to use me to do it.”

Oden’s gaze darkened. “No, not use. Beg for your help. Work with me. Help me stop this.”

“You mean clean up your mess and risk my life doing so.” The words cracked over my voice.

He shook his head. “No, that’s not–”

“You never wanted to help me, did you?” I wrung my hands at my sides. “You just wanted a way to fix your mess. You really are a monster, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t tell if anger or shame filled his eyes and his chest rose. “I was desperate to dethrone Mabry, and now it’s grown beyond my control. Vivian will invade, and she’s using vampires as her way in.”

“And I should stop them.” I meant it as a question, but it came out empty. The words carried no meaning because I wasn’t sure what they meant to me. I knew he wanted me to; I knew I should.

I felt numb.

Oden grabbed my upper arms and forced me to look him in the eyes. He was so close; I could feel his warm breath on my face. I could feel the stormy rage emanating from every inch of his body, but his face remained staid. “No, Avery. I want you to destroy them.”

Everything about the situation made my head spin. The enormity of what he was asking me to do, the burden and responsibility he put on my shoulders, the weight of it all pushed down on me, and I became locked in his grip, lost in those ancient eyes.

I brought my knee up to his groin, and he reeled back.

“I am not a weapon to be wielded!” I yelled as the Dark Lord of Nightmares backed away, hunched over himself as he bit through curses. “And what was today? Parading me around like some toy. You wanted people to see the mortal girl you’re going to use to save them. And what did you plan to do after you use me like some atomic bomb?” I flapped my hands at my sides. “Kill me like you did the Seelie King–”

The words stifled in my mouth as Oden’s lips crushed down on mine, his fingers digging into the flesh of my arms and sending electric shocks through me. But it wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was a desperate means to shut me up.

I screamed against his mouth, and light exploded from me, sending him skidding twenty feet across the ground. The forest rustled and slowly settled as Oden grinned at me like a sly cat. “You’ll do fine indeed.”

I took a deep breath as I hopped back on my horse, and I glared down at him in spite. “I hope Vivian shreds you to pieces.”

 

***

 

I took off back to the mansion and left Oden in my dust. He never pursued, but I knew the moment he arrived. I paced my quarters, still stewing in anger, as a dark cloud gobbled up the sky and thunder rolled in.

The Dark Lord was home.

He never came to my door, never sent word for supper. The moon was barely visible through the thick grey clouds, and I grew bored in my room. The art supplies held no appeal to me here, where my only goal was to learn magic and go home.

I wandered the castle for a while, my footsteps echoing off hollow corridors. Torchlight chased away the shadows, and the wood crackled in my ears, startling me every now and then. I had no idea what time it was, but the staff had long retired for the night. Even Kol was nowhere to be found.

Maybe I should have gone to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. Not when my blood still seethed, and Oden’s words still rang in my ears. All this time, from the moment I’d moved to the city, he’d been watching and scheming to use me as a weapon to wipe out Vivian’s plan and clean up his colossal mess. I felt like a fool because deep down in my gut, I thought he wasn’t as horrible as the rumors stated. But he never wanted to help me.

I was nothing but a means to an end.

A pair of ornate patio doors hung open near the end of a random wing, and a figure with long dark hair sat casually in a wide chair. Smoke billowed up from the tip of a cigarette. I loosed a sigh, letting tension roll off my shoulders, and stepped onto the beautiful stone-laid patio.

“Evening, Red,” Sullivan said without looking up at me. He took another long drag of his cigarette. “Can’t sleep?”

“That’s a vast understatement.” I took the chair next to him and tipped my heavy head back.

He wore a pair of old denim jeans and a loose black t-shirt with holes around the hem. His boots laid tumbled off to the side. “Learn anything today?”

I chortled. “You mean besides the fact that your brother is a selfish piece of shit?”

Sullivan looked at me, the full moon sparkling in his deep, brown eyes, and clucked his tongue mockingly. “Only I get to talk about him like that.”

“Did you know?” I asked, and his immediate sigh and shifting in his seat told me the answer. “Did you know what he planned to do with me?”

He carefully considered his words as he snuffed out his cigarette in an onyx tray. “I know what’s coming, what needs to be done, and I understand his reasoning for his actions. I may disagree with them most of the time, but I get it. An incredible burden has been placed on his shoulders, and it doesn’t matter what he decides; someone will always get the butt end of it.”

“And you think I deserve that sort of fate?” The words were barely a whisper as I stared at the perfectly laid stones.

Sullivan leaned forward as much as he could and lowered his face, catching my gaze. “I didn’t say that’d be you, Red. No, I'm afraid your fate is greater than all ours combined.”

Bile burned at the back of my throat. “I don’t believe in fate.”

A low, raspy chuckle turned over in his throat as he lit another cigarette. “That’s too bad.”

I didn’t reply. Didn’t want to. Sullivan’s carefree ways made it easy to talk to him, easy to like him, even. But underneath it all, he was no better than Oden. They were the sons of rulers past, and both did things to further their agenda for domination. Oden wanted to use me as a weapon, to risk my life, and Sullivan clearly agreed.

He glanced to the right, where a quaint greenhouse sat near the hedges. Black roses and silver flowers pushed against the transparent walls and spilled out the open door. I immediately recognized them from the fresh bowls and vases I’d seen around the castle.

“You see that greenhouse?” he asked, and I just nodded. “It was my mother’s, Serene. When she was alive, there used to be pink ones, too.”

The sudden flip in conversation ruffled my mind, but I welcomed the change in topic. I recalled the tidbits I’d picked up about their late mother.

“What a beautiful name,” I said. “She sounds like she was wonderful.”

He inhaled sharply through his nose as he stared longingly at the flowers. “She was.”

I picked at my chipping nail polish. “How…how did she die?”

“Old age.”

“What? I thought you guys lived forever?”

“A long time, yes. But not forever.” He guffawed. “Fucking kill me now if I have to roam this place for eternity.” He took a long drag. “But, no, my mother was mortal. A human woman, a witch, actually. Gods, my father loved her fiercely.”

Something in my stomach tightened. “But…that means…”

He grinned coyly, flashing his teeth which were surprisingly white for a smoker. “My brother and I are part human.”

Just like me.

Sullivan stood from his chair, the metal legs scraping across the rocks. He turned to the doors behind us and patted my shoulder. “I’ll let that sit with you for a bit, Red. Night.”

He left me on the patio, where I sat until a pale blueish glow stained the sky and dew formed on the chair beneath me, seeping moisture into my clothes. I didn’t bother heading inside. I just wanted to go home. I ventured across the grounds and down the winding dirt path that led to the water and did just that.

Julie was still asleep when I entered the apartment, and I quietly went to my room. The window was open, letting in a crisp winter morning breeze, and Lattie was nowhere to be found. The mattress sagged with my weight, and I realized just how tired I was.

The very air in Ironworld buzzed with sounds and electricity; such a stark, exhausting difference from Faerie. But before I could lay down and sleep, a folded piece of parchment fluttered in through the window like a butterfly, and I pinched it between my fingers with a sigh. I already knew who it was from.

I opened the note, black ink scrawled beautifully across the paper.

Apologies for everything. I would understand if you wished to never return, given my behavior and your impressive grasp on your magic. But your lips have touched mine. Should you ever need me, simply call my name, and I’ll be there.

I brought the paper to my nose and inhaled the subtle scent of black cherries before setting it aflame.