Chapter 17 Silver
Silver
“And that’s why you can’t trust a goose with a wand.”
I glanced over at Karrick, realizing for the first time in several minutes that he was speaking. “Uh… what?”
“I knew you weren’t listening,” he laughed, punching me in the shoulder. “You’ve been off in your own world for the past week and a half. Ever since you kissed that shadow witch in front of the entire academy you’ve been staring wistfully at nearly everything.”
“I have not,” I retorted, but there was nearly zero confidence in my words. I had been really distracted. Even Coach Flannery had noticed. “I just… I’m thinking about—”
“Dick?” Karrick offered. “Does the witch have a nice ass?”
“The witch has a name,” I growled. “Ash. And he’s not a piece of meat. He’s a really good guy and sweet and—”
“And you two are fucking like rabbits,” he finished. “C’mon man, half the team can smell the pheromones on you when you come to practice. You’re not subtle.”
I just glared at him, hating that he was right.
“So?” Karrick pushed. “Things are going well then?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Really well, actually. Too well.”
“How is that a problem?” Karrick asked, his brown eyes studying me with more perception than I was comfortable with.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about him,” I admitted. “Every second of every day. And I know part of it is probably the bond or the spell or whatever the fuck is between us, but...” I trailed off, not sure how to explain the constant ache in my chest when we were apart.
“But you don’t care,” Karrick finished for me, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You just want to be with him.”
“Exactly.” I kicked at a rock on the path.
We were heading back from practice, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across campus.
“And that’s the problem. Because no matter how good things are right now, I still have to go back to the Twilight Realm after graduation. And he can’t come with me.”
Karrick was quiet for a moment, his heavy footsteps crunching on the gravel. “Have you heard anything from your butler? Any solutions?”
“Nothing yet.” The weight of that reality pressed down on me like a physical thing. “Caldwell’s been searching for some sort of solution, but I haven’t heard anything from him yet. And I seriously doubt my father is going to allow me to back down from this arranged marriage.”
“You’ll find a solution,” Karrick nodded.
I glanced over at him. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because the same thing happened to me with Phoenix,” he replied with a shrug. “His parents were awful, and in the end, it came down to a fight, but we found a way to be together. The mate bond always wins, especially when you really love one another. And you, my friend, have got it bad.”
“Whoa,” I said, stopping in my tracks. “Let’s not throw around the L word like that. Nobody is talking about that yet.”
“You might be able to pull the wool over your own eyes, but it won’t work on me. I see how you look at him.”
I looked away, unable to hold his knowing gaze. “It doesn’t matter how I look at him. The facts are the facts. I’m a prince with responsibilities, and he’s a human shadow witch who can’t enter my realm.”
“You keep saying that like it’s set in stone,” Karrick said, starting to walk again. I fell into step beside him. “But you’re the prince, right? Don’t you get any say in how things are run?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “My father is still king. And even when I take the throne, there are centuries of tradition and law to consider. I can’t just change everything because I want to.”
“Why not?”
I stopped again, staring at him in disbelief. “Because that’s not how it works, Karrick. There are political alliances at stake, treaties that depend on my marriage to the right person. If I refuse, it could destabilize the entire realm.”
“So, you’re just going to give up?” Karrick’s voice had an edge to it now. “You’re going to walk away from your mate because it’s politically inconvenient?”
“It’s not that simple—”
“It is that simple,” he interrupted. “You either fight for him or you don’t. Everything else is just excuses.”
His words hit harder than I wanted to admit. I felt anger flare in my chest, hot and defensive. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. You grew up here, in the human world. You don’t have an entire realm depending on you.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” Karrick agreed. “But I do know what it’s like to almost lose the person who matters most. And I can tell you right now, if you let Ash go without a fight, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.”
I wanted to argue, to explain all the reasons why my situation was different, more complicated.
But the words died in my throat because deep down, I knew he was right.
The thought of going back to the Twilight Realm without Ash, of marrying some stranger while he stayed here alone. .. it made me feel physically ill.
“I don’t know what to do,” I finally admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Karrick’s massive hand landed on my shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “Start by being honest with him. Tell him how you really feel. Then figure out the rest together.”
“What if there is no solution?” The fear I’d been pushing down for days came rushing to the surface. “What if we’re just delaying the inevitable?”
“Then at least you’ll have tried,” Karrick said. “At least you won’t spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been.”
We reached the dorm building, students going in and out, most of them on their way to the cafeteria for dinner. But I didn’t want food right now. All I could think about was Ash and, if I told him how I felt, how much more it would hurt when I was forced to return home without him.
“Give me some time to think about it,” I said at last, stopping near the stairs with Karrick. “I just… I’m scared, alright? I don’t want to lose him, but I don’t see a way out either.”
“Been there before,” he replied, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “I get it. I really do. But don’t let that scare you off. Because I promise you right now that feeling you have deep in your gut every time you look at him? It’s never going to go away. So don’t give up.”
I nodded, watching him head off toward his own room. My chest felt tight as I climbed the stairs toward my own, each step heavier than the last. Karrick’s words echoed in my head, mixing with my own fears and doubts until I couldn’t tell which thoughts were rational and which were just panic.
When I opened the door to my room, I found it empty.
Ash was probably cleaning the locker rooms right now, which was for the best. I was feeling a bit too strung out to keep my cool around him at the moment.
I shut the door behind me and collapsed on the bed face down, savoring the smell of him on my pillow.
It made me want to race across campus, break into the locker rooms, and scoop Ash off his feet just so I could kiss him.
Karrick was right. I really did have it bad.
“Young master?” a muffled voice called. “Is that you?”
Caldwell.
I sprang up off the bed and rushed to my desk. Pulling the drawer open, I extracted the enchanted mirror. When I turned it over, I didn’t see my own reflection. Instead, I saw Caldwell’s face break into a soft smile.
“Ah,” he nodded. “There you are.”
“Did you find something?” I asked before I could help myself. My heart was racing. “Anything at all?”
“I did,” Caldwell said, his expression turning serious. “Though I’m not certain you’ll like what I’ve found.”
My stomach dropped. “Tell me anyway.”
He glanced around, as if checking to make sure he was still alone, before continuing.
“I’ve been researching mate bonds between dark elves and other species.
As I mentioned before, they’re exceedingly rare.
In the entire recorded history of the Twilight Realm, there are only three documented cases. ”
“Three?” I leaned closer to the mirror. “That’s it?”
“Yes, young master. And of those three, only one ended... favorably.” He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“The first case was nearly five hundred years ago. A dark elf noble fell for a human witch. When she couldn’t enter the realm, he chose to stay in the mortal world with her.
His family disowned him, stripped him of his titles, and erased him from the family records. He died in obscurity.”
I felt my chest tighten. “And the second?”
“A dark elf merchant and a fae woman,” Caldwell continued, his voice somber.
“She was able to enter the Twilight Realm, but the bond between them caused... complications. Her fae magic and his dark elf heritage didn’t mix well.
Within a year, both had gone mad from the conflicting energies.
They had to be separated, and the bond was severed by force. ”
“They went mad?” My hands gripped the mirror tighter. “What happened to them after?”
“The merchant never recovered. He lived out his days in a medicinal facility, unable to speak or recognize anyone. The fae woman returned to her people, but she was never quite the same either.” Caldwell’s expression was pained, like it hurt him to deliver this news.
“That’s the danger of forcing a bond to break, young master. The consequences can be... severe.”
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “And the third case? You said one ended favorably?”
Caldwell’s face brightened slightly. “Ah, yes. The third case is actually quite remarkable. About two hundred and fifty years ago, the second son of the king—your great-great-uncle, actually—formed a bond with a human. A shadow walker, specifically.”
My heart nearly stopped. “A shadow walker? Like Ash?”
“Precisely like Mr. Vale,” Caldwell confirmed. “Your uncle was in a similar position to you. He was expected to marry for political alliance, bound to someone he’d never met. But the bond was undeniable. It consumed him completely.”
“What did he do?” I was practically holding my breath.
“He fought for it,” Caldwell said simply. “He went before the king at the time—your great-great-grandfather—and made his case. It took months of negotiation, but eventually they reached a compromise.”
“What kind of compromise?”
Caldwell leaned closer to his mirror. “The son had to renounce all claim to the throne and be banished from the Twilight Realm for the remainder of his days. His brother took the throne instead. But from what I can find, it sounds like he and his shadow witch lived very happy lives in the mortal realm.” Caldwell paused for a moment. “However, there is one catch.”
I held my breath.
“The king at the time noted that while he was remiss to lose his son to the mortal world, he never would’ve allowed it had there not been someone else to take his place.” He lifted his gaze to meet mine. “And you are an only child.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final.
“An only child,” I repeated numbly. “So there’s no one to take my place.”
“Precisely,” Caldwell said, his voice gentle but firm. “Your father has no other heir. If you were to renounce your claim and leave the realm, there would be no one to inherit the throne. The royal line would end with your father.”
I sank back onto the bed, the mirror still clutched in my hands. My mind raced through the implications. Without an heir, the Twilight Realm would fall into chaos. The noble houses would fight for power. There could be civil war, just like I’d told Karrick. Thousands could die.
“So, I’m trapped,” I said, hearing the defeat in my own voice. “There’s no way out.”
“I wish I had better news for you, young master,” Caldwell sighed.
“But between your lack of siblings and the generations of magic spent trying to keep the Twilight Realm hidden, I’m afraid I can’t see your father allowing a shadow walker into the realm.
He would see it as a threat to the kingdom’s security. ”
“He would,” I agreed quietly, my throat tight. “My father has spent his entire reign strengthening the barriers between realms. He’d never allow someone who could walk through them freely into our home.”
“There is one other possibility,” Caldwell said hesitantly. “Though I hesitate to even mention it.”
I looked up sharply. “What? Tell me.”
“Your father could take another wife. A younger wife. And produce another heir.” Caldwell’s expression was apologetic. “If there was a younger sibling to inherit the throne, you might be able to make the same arrangement your great-great-uncle did.”
The idea made my stomach churn. My mother would never agree to that, and even if she did, it would take years. Years I didn’t have. Graduation was only seven months away.
“That’s not realistic,” I said. “Even if my father agreed, which he wouldn’t, it would take too long. I’m supposed to return to the Twilight Realm immediately after graduation.”
“I know, young master.” Caldwell’s voice was heavy with sympathy. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find a better solution. I’ll keep searching, but...”
“But don’t get my hopes up,” I finished for him. “I understand.” I couldn’t help the defeated sigh that escaped me. “Thank you, Caldwell. You’ve been most helpful.”
“It is my honor to serve,” he replied with a small bow.
The mirror went dark, and I sat in silence for a moment, the weight of impossibility pressing down on me. Three cases in five hundred years, and only one had worked out. And that one required circumstances I didn’t have.