42. Love of Family
forty-two
Love of Family
Alessia
A fter cleaning ourselves up, Rainer and I stride around the ground floor, searching for Ken and Tynan. The place is hauntingly empty—the ballroom transformed into a somber morgue. Only the array of tacky floral decorations lingers, silent witnesses to today’s horrors. Their cheery presence is a jarring juxtaposition to the events that transpired.
Rainer sniffs the air. “Both of their scents are here. Fairly fresh. I don’t think they left.”
I give him a worried glance. After the chances we’ve given Tynan, the fact that he likely betrayed us and set us up hits doubly hard. Rainer was finally trying to make peace with the only blood family he had left.
But something doesn’t sit right with me.
“What would he gain by betraying us?” I ask, thinking aloud.
Rainer reaches out and picks at a piece of curling floral wallpaper, tearing a chunk off and letting it flutter to the floor. “Does it matter? He’d turn his back on us at the first sign of something better.”
“What if he didn’t, though?”
“How else would the glamour drop, Alessia?” Rainer’s tone is defeated, as if he’s already accepted the fracture between him and Tynan. “Everything he does is for self-gain. This is no different. ”
“And when you find him?”
He sighs. “I don’t know.”
We reach the back of the estate. Enormous glass pane doors spread open, the lacy, flowered curtains billowing in a slight breeze. I step through to find a patio stretching out toward the sea, with only a small strip of sand separating the wood and water.
Tiki torches light the path from the house to the coast.
It’s just before dawn, and the sky has a dark, eerie glow. The night passed by so quickly, but the adrenaline carries me forward.
On a bench, with her back to me, Enid sits. For a moment, it’s like seeing myself from a different lens. The likeliness is uncanny.
“I’m going to talk to her,” I tell Rainer softly.
He nods, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll check upstairs.”
“Be safe.” My eyes flick down his bare chest, taking him in shamelessly. The wound on his side is fully healed, nothing more than a jagged, pale scar. If Enid hadn’t given me that salve…
I can’t even bring myself to think about it.
“Hey,” he says, reaching for me. He plants a kiss on the back of my hand. “I am fine . I have more reason than ever to take care of myself now.”
I flush, my body feeling warm with his implication. That we are soul-bonded .
Gripping the back of my neck, he leans forward and kisses my forehead, muttering, “ You be safe, mo róisín.”
I can’t help but smirk as he releases me, and we pull away. “I’ve got my shadow. I’ll be just fine.”
And surprisingly, for the first time, I mean it. I feel less like I’m housing an enemy inside my skin and more like I’m… complete .
A newfound strength and comfort thrums through my veins. My shadow-self doesn’t feel as unsettling as it first did. Whether it’s the souls it feasted on or the love of the soul-bond placating it, I don’t know. Perhaps both.
Or maybe I’ve finally stopped fighting it and started to accept it for what it is.
Despite the wreckage in the ballroom inside and the impending, impossible journey stretching out before me—in both realms—my heart feels lighter.
Rainer gives me one last, long look, then turns and reenters the house, leaving me with Enid.
My pulse kicks up as I draw closer to where she sits on the bench. She turns, greeting me with a smile. Her spine is straight and rigid, but her features are relaxed. Wyetta’s golden crown, adorned with sapphires and diamonds, sits atop her head, fitting well.
Then again, I suppose it was Enid’s crown all along.
“It has been much too long,” she says with a sigh, tilting her face toward the dim sky.
Fresh sea air caresses me, and I suck it in greedily. The salt and seaweed lighten me further, and for a brief moment, I think I might miss this when I return to Spiritus Court.
The sun begins to rise behind us, gold-kissing the sand and water. It sparkles lightly, a small sample of what’s to come once day truly hits.
There’s a different sense of serenity here.
Or perhaps that’s just a post-orgasm illusion.
A smile ghosts my lips, and I shake it off, focusing instead on Enid. The crow’s feet and smile wrinkles give her the illusion of wisdom, but it’s the keen, quiet intellect hiding behind her sharp grey eyes that alert me to her old age.
How long exactly was she locked up?
How old is she?
I’m tempted to ask how she looks so young despite being centuries old. But then I think of how fae—especially powerful ones—age slowly. Yvanthia, for instance.
Will I grow old and die one day while Rainer stays young and healthy? The thought is too much to bear, but I must ask anyway.
I clear my throat. “Enid?”
She turns, gazing serenely at me. “Yes, dearling?”
“Do half-fae… like me, age like you? Or like humans?”
She chuckles and gently beckons for me, patting the bench beside her. I join her, perching stiffly on the wooden seat. “Of all the questions I thought you might ask...” She shakes her head, smiling at me. “A love like yours is rare,” she says reverently.
“A soul-bond?”
Another chuckle falls from her lips. If she’s surprised by my admission of being bonded, she doesn’t show it.
She grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly. My brows fly up at her grip strength. “The way you and your bonded care for each other. It is always worth fighting for.”
A humorous laugh escapes me as I think of the mayhem in the ballroom. Even if I didn’t start that fight, I indeed finished it.
It wasn’t even really a fight—it was a slaughter.
“I’m tired of the violence,” I admit.
“That is not the fighting I am referring to. I mean not the external carnage, but the little internal fights.” She releases my hand, patting it, then places it back on her lap as she stares at the horizon. “ I will not pretend to be family if that makes you uncomfortable, Alessia. I understand we are far removed. However, I would like to be a part of your life if you will have me.”
I bite my bottom lip, unsure of what to say. There’s much to sift through, so I only nod. I hope that’s enough for her, for now.
It must be because she takes a breath to continue speaking.
“Then consider this a piece of grandmotherly wisdom: fighting for love is often quiet and personal. The battles are often tiny, but they add to the whole war. Sometimes, you must lose battles, but it does not mean you lose the war. Know when to fight and when to back down, but never give up on your love.”
I squint at a bird sailing above the water in the distance. Her words are a puzzle, yet they somehow make perfect sense. Rainer and I are a team. Especially now that our bond is completed. We’ve been through so much in half a year, and it’s only the beginning.
Despite solidifying the bond and choosing to be together, it doesn’t mean things will be perfect. We’re still two flawed beings with much personal work to complete. Rainer is still the broody, wounded male he was when I first met him—a traumatized little faeling deep down—just as I still carry the wounds of my past.
Enid is right. Sometimes, we fight for love in quiet, meaningful ways, like staying when we want to flee the discomfort or speaking honestly when we want to hide the words behind our hearts.
“The darkness calls to you, does it not?” Enid’s voice draws me out of my thoughts. A line forms on her forehead, yet her eyes glisten with pride. “From within.”
“Yes,” I admit.
She tucks her feet onto the bench, resting her head on them. For a moment, she appears so tiny and… normal. Human
“Did it call to you, too?” I ask. Perhaps I will finally learn the truth of my power. The one I searched for in the journals to no avail.
She shakes her head. “It is rare.” She exhales, her shoulders softening as she hugs her legs tighter. “It is a power of its own, separate from being a spiritcaller.”
“ Power ?” My blood heats at how she says it, as if it’s some advantage and not a terrible, vile hindrance.
She chuckles. “You are blessed with great power, my dearling, even as a half-blooded fae.”
“It’s awful,” I whisper, furrowing my brow. “It’s not great at all.”
Though there’s no sharpness to my tone, it still causes Enid to sigh. Slowly, she turns to face me. Her expression is unreadable as she studies me.
“Your shadow-self is part of you. It may be your soul’s deepest, darkest part, but it is a part of you nonetheless. It works alongside you, offering you a second strength.”
I shake my head. “No. It says awful things. It wants to do awful things. I’ve never had such thoughts until encountering it.”
“Is that the truth? Or did you never acknowledge such thoughts until you started believing in your strength?”
I am not weak.
I am strong.
The voice is loud and clear, and I hear it for what it is this time. A mantra I’ve always heard echoing in my mind—words I’ve always wanted to believe but never did until Rainer.
Until he called me his and convinced me I was the girl who fights.
My spine goes rigid, and my skin prickles with surprise at the connectedness of it all.
The voice—those thoughts—they have always been there, encouraging me to find my inner strength. I’ve just never seen it for what it is. Not until now.
“But I don’t want to hurt anyone,” I whisper, confused.
Enid reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. She squeezes it, offering me a sympathetic look.
“Your shadow-self is made of the parts you repress. Perhaps they are feelings of shame, or fear, or simply unacknowledged desires, but they are the parts we often frown upon.” She pats my hand and then releases me. “It is normal to feel at odds with your shadow-self, but truly accepting that part of yourself is how you gain control of it.”
Shame and disgust roil inside me. What she’s saying can’t be true. I can’t be as vile as that little voice. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, even when they’ve deserved it.
But then again… I chose to kill Edvin and Nilda.
I chose to burn Edvin’s house down.
I unleashed my shadow in the ballroom, even knowing the consequences.
And none of it broke me like I once imagined it might.
Because you are strong, you are capable.
I am capable of darkness just as I am goodness.
“No,” I snap, squeezing my eyes shut briefly.
Enid makes a tutting noise. “It is speaking to you now, yes?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and turn away. “It’s been… quieter lately. Less demanding, but yes.”
“Because you are making peace with yourself. This is a beautiful thing.” I can hear the smile in her voice.
Perhaps that is why I bled when I hurt it—I was only hurting myself. Deep down, I think I knew the truth of it all along. I just wasn’t ready to accept it—I wasn’t prepared to accept myself.
With a deep inhale to steady myself, I face her again. “Why did I need to sacrifice a life on Spiritus Court’s land to accept my power if I already had it?”
“Dearling, there is always a price to pay. We pay in souls. It strengthens our magic.”
“But I’ve…” I can’t bring myself to speak the word killed . “Paid with mostly humans.”
“A soul is a soul,” she says, squinting at the glittering horizon.
I lean forward, planting my elbows on my knees and hanging my head in my hands. “If you didn’t have a shadow-self, what was your power?”
“Soulmancy,” Enid says softly.
I let the unfamiliar word sink in. “What could you do with that?”
She frowns at the sea. "Bring souls back to their body." Her gaze shifts to mine. "The last of my magic was in that salve."
My spine tingles at the implication. If it weren't for her salve, Rainer might truly be dead. My eyes brim with tears and my tongue—for the first time in so long—burns with a thousand thank yous.
"Is that why Yvnathia feared you?" I ask instead, not wanting to get swept away in the panic of how close I was to losing Rainer.
“It does not matter.” Enid’s features harden briefly, her eyes narrowing. Then, with a sigh, she shakes her head. “It is long gone, a piece of the past left to rest, and I am better for it.”
I blink away the annoyance at the nonanswer, trying not to get caught up on irrelevant details. I don’t bother asking about spiritcalling—I’ve read plenty about that power. All the matriarchs in our lineage wield that power by default, keeping the court alive.
“Stifling your shadow-self down and ignoring it will only worsen its demands,” Enid adds. “Perhaps now that you truly embrace who you are—the truth of who you are—it will settle down. Do not abandon the parts of you bathed in shadow, my Alessia.”
My Alessia . The words remind me so much of Char—a woman I haven’t seen in much too long. A woman who, at this point in my life, almost feels like a figment of my imagination.
This time, when I study Enid carefully, I see a tiny resemblance to the woman I once loved. It’s not in her features but in how she speaks and moves. As if… as if Char, somehow, for some reason, modeled her demeanor after this ancestor of mine.
Something comes back to me—about how the hand of Fate presents herself differently depending on who she is appearing to.
Is that what Char did for me, too? Did she present herself as my ancestor, preparing me for this introduction one day? Was it so I would be inclined to find comfort in Enid, drawn to the familiarity?
The answer sits raw and honest on my chest. It’s bittersweet but beautiful in a way. I could be resentful of the manipulation, but it’s wasted energy. Especially since I wouldn’t be here now, filled with so much hope, love, and freedom, if it weren’t for Char’s invisible guidance.
“Enid?” I say.
“Yes, my dearling?”
“I would very much like to be in each other’s lives.”
She scoots closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and hugging me tight. The faint smell of that lemongrass and peppermint healing salve reaches my nose, and a pang of longing tugs at my chest. Wherever Char is now, I hope she’s happy. Something tells me the pieces she placed fell perfectly in line—the thread of fate she tied me to held firm. She’s likely moved on to her next task, saving the realm silently from the shadows elsewhere.
And she might be done with me, but I recognize why she did everything she did now. For this moment right here: a moment of peace at the sea’s edge, with my soul-bond in my heart and my ancestor at my side. A moment of silence before the Trade finally comes to a halt, and liberation is found for all Tradelings.
Char’s words come back to me, and this time, as they replay, I smile to myself: I am not your family… One day, you will experience what a true family is.
She was wrong—she was my family. She’ll always be in my heart as such. But now, I hope she’s right, and I will finally experience the true love of family.