Chapter 4
They’ve found us.
The phrase rebounded in my head as I watched him speed toward the main dome. Instinct had me tearing after him, the cry of the bird from above seeming to tell the world where we were. It looked just like the one at the fortress, the one circling the marketplace. Prince Iain’s pet.
Alarm bells clanged through the encampment while the spells shouting of the intruders entered the sacred space. Dozens of inhabitants spewed from the food tent and more peeked out of their homes, confusion and fear streaking their expressions.
“Iacob!” Ash’s voice howled, sprinting for the man who stood in the middle of the camp, frantically addressing Vlad, Dubthach, and a handful of others who stood around him. “Iacob!”
Catching up to Ash, we came to a stop next to the leader, Iacob’s hands flying out as he spoke. Residents were running around us in chaos. Parents screamed for their kids, elders collected provisions and items, while anyone over the age of fifteen headed to Iacob for direction.
“Vlad, get your team to the border of the spell. Find out who it is and what—”
“I know who it is,” Ash inserted, snapping every head to us. “It’s the Romanian army.”
“What?” The color drained from Iacob’s face.
Ash nodded above to the hawk circling. “She led them here.”
Realization dawned on Vlad, his eyes widening as he noted the bird above, probably recalling it from the fortress. “You.” Vlad’s shock turned into fury. “She tracked you here! This is your fault!” He lunged for Ash, his chest puffed out. “And you are the reason I had to run from the fortress and leave all the weapons I purchased behind!”
“Whoa, whoa!” Iacob put up his arms, stepping in between. Codrin grabbed his friend, pulling him back. “We don’t need this right now!” Iacob shouted at Vlad. “We deal with the enemy at hand before we start pointing fingers and fighting amongst ourselves. Now go,” he ordered Vlad.
Vlad stared Ash down but took his order, peeling away from Codrin. A dozen other men and women waited for instruction, leaving Dubthach to glower hate and resentment at us both.
“I’m sorry,” Ash spoke to Iacob. “We brought this to your door.”
“You may have brought it earlier than expected, but this danger was eventually going to come.” Iacob squinted in the distance as if he had any chance of seeing what was arriving. “At least with the Druid protection, we should be able to keep them off for a bit.” Fae magic couldn’t break Druid magic, which was why they feared and hated us so much. It was why my mother was beloved, but at the same time, some would never accept her as their queen—an impostor standing in until a real fae queen could be crowned.
“Go reinforce the spells. Maybe she can help you?” Iacob turned to me.
Deep shame boiled down through my body. Embarrassment and sorrow blinking my lashes. “I-I can’t,” I muttered. I was an impostor to both Druids and fae.
I couldn’t help Dubthach reinforce the boundaries like a normal Druid could. His spell was white magic. Protection. An obscurer was only black magic. Mine was to kill and harm, coming up short of anything good.
I grew up knowing I was “special” or, as some might say, defective or unnatural. Many times as a child, when my temper flared or I was going through fae/Druid puberty, I had to go into a time-out because my powers could hurt people. My parents, wanting to keep me safe, taught me how to mask my powers and keep myself calm, especially when my dark dweller was invoked as well. The combination was deadly and depleted me for days.
The embarrassment was all-consuming when I learned I could never fully shift like my brother, leaving me on the sidelines when my whole dark dweller family did a forest run. Though they never treated me differently, I was an outsider even to them. The only one who understood was my uncle West, who, after extensive trauma, couldn’t shift anymore either. But my Aunt Ember was the one who understood me the most. As a Dae and half dark dweller because of Uncle Eli, she also was considered a monster by many, her kind hunted down and obliterated.
“Go.” Iacob nodded at Dubthach, confusion lining his forehead at why I couldn’t help. A disgusted noise came from Dubthach, sneering at me before he took off.
A shriek impaled my ears from above as the hawk-shifter Ash called Nyx flew closer to where we stood. I swear I could feel the hate coming off her. This was more than a tracker carrying out her master’s orders—this was personal.
The alarms wailed from another section of the property, screaming of intruders, turning us toward the south.
“They are surrounding us.” Ash’s tone seemed calm, but I could pick up the anxiety in his inflection, the tightness in his muscles. “What do you need us to do?”
“Leave.”
“What?” Ash and I both spun back to Iacob.
“If it’s you they are after, then you need to get as far from here as you can. We can hold them off with spells, but we have no other means of fighting an army.” The few guns Vlad collected would not hold up against a throng of royal soldiers.
“We can’t just leave you!” Ash countered.
“Two people will not hold back a troop.” Iacob shook his head at us. Louder squeals from the spell plucked at the sky, coming from the north side of camp.
My powers were coming back, but I knew they weren’t at the levels I needed to fight for long. The battle in my body, trying to fully shift when I never would, drained me as much as when my obscurer invoked its magic. It took me days to recuperate. Another painful reminder I was fucked up.
It was like when my brother and I were in the womb, he fully developed while I came out stunted and “undercooked.”
Iacob struggled to stand still, his attention fluttering around to his panicking inhabitants. “I hope you understand, but my people come first.”
A ripple of energy broke against my skin, my ears crackling like they had just un-popped, flooding in sound from outside the spell.
“Iacob,” a voice shouted, the sheer panic gripping my lungs. I somehow knew before Viorica came running up that the army had gotten in. “They have broken through!”
“What?” Iacob went still, his head trying to negate what she just uttered. “No, it’s impossible! They can’t just walk through a Druid spell!”
“They can if they aren’t either fae or human,” Ash muttered more to himself, staring off toward the commotion. Gunfire and screams ballooned in the air, the voices growing closer, coming for the encampment.
“We need to get everyone to safety! Now! Do you have an escape plan?” Ash shouted at Iacob. His need to protect, to make sure everyone was out of harm’s way, took over.
“Y-Yes.” It took another beat for the human to snap out of his shock, his attention finally going to his people, the pandemonium bustling at the seams, whipping up more terror.
“Go!” Ash pushed Iacob, invoking him to act. The flip switched on the stunned leader as more gunfire and cries progressed toward the center.
“Retragere!” Retreat. Iacob ordered his people, rounding up the terrified parents with their kids, rushing them for the west side of the encampment. “Get yourself to the caves!”
There were a thousand caves in this area, so I knew he wasn’t talking about the ones Ash and I came from. Probably one they had secured with provisions, a hideout in case of this very event.
“Go with them!” Ash demanded me, heading for the first line.
“No!” I sprinted after him, furious he was trying to sideline me.
“Raven…” His expression twisted up. “Please go!”
“I’m not leaving you,” I volleyed, the sounds of war thrumming into every fiber. “When will you get it through your head? I am not a child!”
“No, you’re a fucking princess,” he snapped back. “And if anything happened to you…”
“I am your greatest weapon here.”
“You aren’t strong enough yet.”
My mouth parted in surprise. How did he know that?
“Please.” His eyes pleaded with me right as the piercing shriek of a hawk, no longer muffled by the barrier, rang out at us.
Ash’s head jerked up and the hawk swooped in for the ground, her body appearing like it was morphing back into a human form. This time, I saw a weapon strapped to her breastbone.
A gun.
Not far behind her, Codrin and others were retreating, a swell of soldiers on their tail.
There was no chance to fight. They outnumbered us by dozens, all loaded down with armor. Everything Vlad had feared.
A strangled noise rose from Ash, his hand grabbing mine as he swung us around and started running. The satchel knocked against my thighs, my pulse beating in my ears as we tore through the encampment. A loud squawk chilled my blood, and I twisted my head to see Nyx swooping down at me, her talons scraping over my scalp.
“Ow!” I screamed, my arms trying to cover my head as she swooped in again.
“Get the hell off her!” Ash batted at her, yet she returned for me over and over, her claws cutting into my skin. Why was she coming after me?
Nyx’s wings fluttered as she dove toward me. Her talons pierced my shoulder, digging in, pain exploding down my arm.
“Ahhh!” I wailed, curling over, spots dotting my vision, the pain swishing my stomach. The dweller growled; the pain was a trigger to attack. To kill. I could feel my claws pushing from my hands, my teeth digging sharply into my lip. A whisper of the obscurer rode the dweller’s back like a horseman of the apocalypse. A symbol of death.
A rush of fear slammed the cage on them. It was a knee-jerk reaction to the power they conjured, the terror of having no control.
“Get. Off!” Ash bellowed, trees cracking overhead, limbs bending to his energy, raining snow on us. He grabbed one of her wings. “How many times do I have to kill you before you die?” I heard a pop of cartilage, then a long shriek of pain rang through the skies before her body fluttered to the ground with a broken wing.
“Go!” Ash grabbed me, hurrying me on.
Clenching my teeth, I hurried my steps, feeling blood leak from my shoulder. The trees this time of year were twisted webs of empty branches, making us easy to see. The snow marked out our path. There was no way to not leave footprints in the snow, so our only escape was to outrun them.
We were their target, and though staying and fighting was the honorable thing to do, I understood we’d merely bring them more suffering.
While gunfire echoed behind us and the troop searched for Ash, we slipped away over the rocky terrain, heading to the one place we could disappear.
?
The sun had long set by the time we reached Bra?ov, frozen and stumbling down dimly lit streets clouded with the stench of urine. Returning here was dangerous, but it was the only town nearby we could get lost in, hiding among the mass populace and debauchery.
Crowds mulled outside busy pubs and brothels, conversing and drinking around barrels crackling with fires, drunks spilling in and out of the establishments. A dozen off-duty soldiers mixed in, yelling and falling down into the dirty slush.
“Like we never left,” I muttered into Ash’s back while we weaved through the dark alleys.
His bright green eyes flickered back to me, his head deep in his hood. I could see the strain on his expression, but even more unsettling was how much I could feel it. Without the bracelet, everything about him was sharper to me, thrumming under my skin.
His mouth parted, and I could hear him silently tell me to “stay close” and “keep my head down,” but he closed his mouth as if he didn’t need to remind me. I understood.
His hand reached back, linking with mine, pulling me tighter into him. I sucked in from the pain, my shoulder throbbing where the hawk-shifter dug her nails into me.
Concern wrinkled Ash’s mouth as he turned us down a familiar passage.
Women and men were already hanging out of the windows, displaying to anyone who could afford it that they were open and ready for business.
“We’re going back here?” I glanced up at the brothel sign. We had stayed here just over a week ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Two different people walked in now, changed by what had happened… or not happened here last time.
“We have no money.” Ash shrugged. “We have to bank on pity and hotness.” He tried to play it off cheeky, but it didn’t quite hit.
The warmth of the overcrowded room slapped my face, burning my cheeks and tickling my nose. “Wow.” I blinked around at the overflowing room, patrons and prostitutes heaving in every direction, the commotion jarring me after hours of the quiet forest.
“Oh my gods!” A dramatic pitch turned us to the foyer. Dressed in a glossy gold robe and wearing a blonde wig with sparklers sitting on it like a crown and thick, glittery gold makeup, Maestro Silk strutted up to us, his red-painted mouth open in shock. “My beauties have returned!”
“Good to see you.” Ash dipped his head.
“Oh, we are past formalities, my kittens.” He came up, air-kissing our cheeks. “I am so happy to have you back.” His nose wrinkled when he peered down at our dirty, torn, and definitely smelly clothes. “A little worse for wear, but nothing a bath and some clean clothes can’t change!” He waved off what we were wearing and returned to look at us. “My goodness, I forgot how unbelievably stunning you both are. And so beautiful together .” He winked with a little shoulder wiggle. “Are we looking for a room together for a few hours?” His painted eyebrow arched up dramatically, his eyes flaring with insinuation. “A party room?” He was somehow able to speak with this dramatic flair, but also a million miles a second. “It is a celebratory night, after all!”
Awareness crept in, and I understood his crown of sparklers and the overabundance of customers. “It’s New Year’s Eve,” I muttered, peering around at the alcohol, drugs, and prostitutes flowing through the room, a surreal feeling setting over me.
Last year, right before my world came crumbling down, I had been partying in a nightclub with my friends, drunk on champagne, dancing with the man I loved, thinking life was perfect. I had found my happily ever after. Found my “mate.”
Now I could look back with clearer eyes. How distant Wyatt was being, how he watched Piper. The guttural pain in his eyes observing her with her date, wanting to tear the man apart. The excuses he would make to be near her.
It was later that night he declared how he felt to her, and she could no longer deny she was in love with him, seeing him with me.
Star-crossed lovers.
And I was Roseline, not Juliet.
Reid and Eve were there guarding me at the New Year’s party, Reid gushing about his daughter learning to walk, and Eve patting my back when I threw up in the toilet later. Not yet a traitor.
That party girl was a stranger to me, as I would have been to her. A one-dimensional character I’d watch on TV and roll my eyes at, while she would have laughed uncontrollably if anyone told her where she’d be in a year.
How young and innocent to the world I was then. Pampered and naive, thinking I had it all. My life set. Rich, powerful, pretty, and with the most desired man around.
And in less than two weeks, I became a murderer.
A monster.
I stared down at my filthy, torn pants and sweater, which still had blood stains from myself, Ash, and the two men I killed. My hair was stringy and dirty, my skin dry and cracked, standing in a brothel with a vengeful tree fairy.
My life had changed so much from the girl I once was.
Tucking hair behind my ear, my eyes prickled with emotion, not knowing if I was mourning that girl or she was mourning me.
“Speaking of a room.” Ash retrieved my attention, a flirty grin tipping the side of his face. “You don’t have an unused storage room or abandoned basement?”
“Sweet thing, why would you want the basement when you could have—” Maestro stopped, his fake eyelashes fluttering. “Oh. You don’t have any money.”
“Not technically.” Ash grinned more, and I swear the room became hazy, like he was the drug.
“Technically?” Maestro’s lids tapered, his lips pinching in skepticism.
“We have mushrooms.” He flipped open the top of the bag strapped around me. “Good quality.”
Maestro Silk leaned over, peering in at the soil-covered, smooshed mushrooms.
“Those are fresh?” His eyes widened. Farming was difficult nowadays, but in the dark recession of winter, vegetables and plants were almost impossible to get. Unless you were growing them in a hothouse, which no one could afford, but where Iacob’s group lived, it was always warm and protected.
“Yes.” Ash nodded.
“Where did you get them?”
Ash smiled in response, and Maestro nodded in understanding. He didn’t need to know.
“They’re a little unprocessed—”
“You think you can find this kind of quality anywhere right now?” Ash lifted a brow, closing the bag. “This is the high-priced stuff you eat, and also smoke without getting a hangover. And people will pay a lot for it.” He jerked his chin to the people around us, desperate for an escape, to feel happy.
“One bundle for a room, food, unlimited alcohol, and whatever room we want to play in.” Ash laid down the price.
“Unlimited alcohol?” Maestro touched his chest in shock, knowing it hit the hardest out of all of them.
“How serious are you about your patrons forking over money for raw, unrefined fae mushrooms?” Ash taunted. “That’s our deal.”
“Wow, aren’t you just the hottest little dealer.”
“Nothing little about me.” Ash tilted his head. The insinuation heated my skin under the jacket because my mind pictured it, and he was correct.
An impish smile spanned over Maestro Silk’s mouth. “Brains, beauty, and cocky. I think I just fell head over heels in love with you.” He slipped his hand into Ash’s. “Deal.”
Ash shook in agreement, then put his hand on my back, leading me deeper into the room.
“Uh-uh.” The procurer tsked. “Payment first.”
Ash exhaled and reopened the top of the bag, taking a handful of mushrooms and holding them out.
“You expect me to touch those filthy things?” Maestro exclaimed. “I don’t do dirty, darling.” He nodded to a door. “Drop them in the kitchen while I take this exquisite thing upstairs and get her into a bath.”
Ash gritted his jaw, his expression clear he wasn’t comfortable letting me go off without him.
“So possessive,” Maestro teased. “I promise, loverboy, she will be perfectly fine in my care.”
Ash’s eyes met mine before he took off for the kitchen, his hands full of mushrooms. If anyone here was sober and saw what he was carrying, they’d realize the bounty he had in his arms.
“Now for the really important item.” Maestro’s attention moved down me. “Drag?.” Sweetheart . “You are severely insulting your beauty in such a disgusting ensemble.” He wrinkled his nose at my clothes. “I will find you something far more appropriate to wear.”
“Oh, um—”
Maestro had already turned away, his arm waving in the air for me to follow, not allowing me to decline his offer. We wiggled deeper into the throng of people—drugs, alcohol, and sex already freely being distributed throughout.
Maestro took me up two floors, pointing me to a bathroom. “This is your stop. I will not let you in any of my rooms with so much filth.”
“Coming from someone whose place is covered in cum and bodily fluid.”
Maestro let out a howl of laughter, waving at his eyes so he wouldn’t smudge his makeup. “You two are like my medicine cupboard.”
“What does that mean?”
“Full of fun surprises.” He nudged me into the bathroom. “Go. I’ll find both of you some extra clothes.” Maestro closed the door.
In the quiet bathroom, the music and chatter far below, I stared numbly at my reflection in the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize who was looking back. Void of makeup, bruised, flushed, and exhausted, I no longer had the sheen of wealth, the glow of a girl who thought she was confident and put together.
She was the illusion, while the girl who had survived the last month stared wisely back. I couldn’t say what it was, but I appeared older. Grounded. With a confidence my younger self thought I had, but didn’t. Though I respected this girl now, part of me longed to go back. To be satisfied with designer clothes, clubbing, and lunching with my friends.
It all sounded so trivial. Like I had lived in a tiny box. I had seen and done too much now. Whatever happened, I could never go back to her.
The door squeaked open, and my eyes flicked up to the mirror, imagining Maestro stepping in with clothes, but mossy green eyes found mine instead, hitching my breath.
“I haven’t gotten in yet,” I protested, a strange nervousness jumbling my words. “But if you want to go first.” Ash closed the door, twisting me around to him. In one hand, he carried a cloth and an unlabeled container. “What are you—”
“Take your jacket off.” His low tone was demanding.
“What?”
“Where Nyx got you.” He nodded at my shoulder. “I need to clean it.”
Fae healed quickly, but we were still susceptible to infections, and the way my shoulder ached, I wouldn’t be surprised if she dipped her talons in poison beforehand. She had cut into a nerve, and I could barely move my arm, cradling it most of the trek here.
I bit down on my lip, trying to lift the bag from my body with my good arm.
Ash stepped in, placing the towel and antiseptic down. He grabbed the handle, pulled it over, and set the bag down on a stool. His hands returned to me, curling around the collar of my jacket, his knuckles brushing my neck. With care, he peeled it off my body, letting the torn item drop to the floor in a heap. His fingers reached up, trailing over the holes in my sweater, the dried blood caking the fabric.
“I need your pulóver off.” He cleared his throat, not looking at me.
“I need help.” My voice came out quiet and wobbly, like I was asking for more than him to assist me.
His eyes rose to stare at mine in the mirror. We had been naked around each other before. I knew the sounds he made in pleasure. He knew how I tasted. But something about him undressing me, his eyes locked on mine in the mirror, felt far more intimate.
He coiled his fingers into the hem and slowly pulled off my shirt, my hair falling back down around me. The cheap, see-through sports bra did nothing to cover my breasts. His eyes stayed on me in the reflection, his throat bobbing. Under his scrutiny, my nipples hardened, my skin flushing in places.
He swallowed again, tearing his gaze away, snatching up the antiseptic.
“It’s starting to close up. I will need to reopen it and clean it out properly. You can jump in the shower, and then I’ll bandage it up after you get out. Okay?”
I nodded.
“It’s gonna hurt. You ready?”
I bobbed my head again, my teeth cut into my bottom lip. When Ash pulled my healing skin apart, a whimper-hiss watered my eyes, and fresh blood oozed down my side from the reopened wound. “Fuck!”
“Sorry.” He wiped up the blood, dipping the other end of the cloth into the sterilizer and swiping it over the gash.
“Holy shit squared, multiplied, and divided!” I yelped.
“Whaatt?” Ash started laughing, a small snort coming from his nose, making me chuckle.
“It’s something my mother always says,” I replied, a stab hitting my heart at the thought of my mom. Gods, I missed her. She was busy a lot while Rook and I grew up, but I understood. I was proud my mother was out there trying to make the world better. She was the best mom. Kind, compassionate, and so loving. More the rule follower, while my father broke them all. They were the perfect balance.
“Your mother.” His humor died away, and his demeanor shifted instantly at the mention of her. “You mean the queen.”
“To me, she’s just Mom.”
He let out a scoff, continuing to clean my wound. Whatever was there just a moment ago was gone, distance weaving between us. I hated that any mention of my family reminded him of who I was, changing his view of me. I was no longer the girl his tongue had slid through. The person he had treated like an equal. But a princess. Someone untouchable.
“Hey?” I said roughly, regaining his focus back on me in the mirror. “I’m still me, no matter what label I have or who my parents are.”
He watched me.
“I don’t judge you for your family, so don’t judge me for mine.”
A crazed sound came from him. “You sound like our families are equal. That yours is some normal, everyday run-of-the-mill family and mine is just eccentric. Mine was a fucking cult . Fucked-up people who liked orgies with neighbors and hinted at pedophilia!” He exploded. “We are not even close to being the same!”
I whipped around, confused and angry at why he was so mad at me.
“You have a family who loves you. Who would do anything for you. Take it from someone who didn’t have that kind of family as a kid… go home .”
I didn’t want to. It was absolutely crazy, but being here with him made sense. It felt right. I couldn’t even explain it to myself. Like against all odds, the girl who partied last New Year with her boyfriend was supposed to be in this bathroom this year with him.
Yet I knew my family had to be freaking out, and I was only bringing more danger to Ash the longer I stayed. My family wasn’t the kind you just called and told you were fine and not to worry. They would track me down from one phone call.
Either I stayed silent and remained with Ash, or I called them and knew it meant I would be going home.
Fuck. I didn’t want to think about my father’s temper once he hugged me and knew I was okay. He would shift into his beast for days, denting the deer population. But really, it was my mother who, when truly provoked, scared the daylights out of me. Her natural obscurer could kick mine’s ass. She had that quiet anger where you wished to be screamed at instead. While my brother would probably whack me on the back of the head and say, “Glad you’re back, doofus.”
Ash brought us back here to send me home. To do what was “right.” And it seemed better for everyone if I just made the call. Have someone come get me and jet me back to America, our journey concluding uneventfully.
“You should get in the shower.” Ash stepped back, curving for the door. “I’ll go find our room.”
“Wait.” I clutched his hand, stopping him, a desperation to keep him close. What if tonight was our last night? What if I never saw him again?
“I need help getting these off.” I indicated my pants and boots.
A nerve jumped in his cheek. Ash took a long moment, and I was ready for him to make an excuse. To walk out the door.
He finally turned to face me, and I didn’t move, staring up at him, waiting for him to act.
As if he could read my thoughts, he picked up on what I didn’t say. He stepped closer to me, his body barely inches from mine. His hand reached for the waist of my pants, undoing the top button and sliding the zipper down. His fingers slipped along my skin, palms sweeping out over my hips under the material, pushing the material over my ass.
Ash lowered himself to his knees, his mouth only centimeters away from my pussy, the heat of his breath sinking through my underwear, curling into me.
Air moved in and out of my lungs, and I could not control my response to his touch. To him.
He untied my boots, helping me step out of them, and pulled off my socks. His hand wrapped around my thigh, and I leaned into him as he took each pant leg off. Slowly. In complete control. While everything in me wanted to snap.
I could no longer hear moans, beds squeaking, or music and loud voices from below. I existed just in this room. My heart pounded in my ears, desire stirring up my dark dweller.
It needed. Craved.
Leaving me in only paper-thin underwear and bra, his palms glided up my legs to my hips as he stood, his body almost against mine, looming over me. His gaze dropped to my mouth, his fingers digging harder into my hips. “Raven…”
“Knock, knock!” a sing-song voice called out, the door opening, Maestro’s head popping in.
Ash jerked away from me, but the procurer’s eyes danced from us to my clothes strewn over the floor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt.” His eyes flared with lust. “I’ll just leave these here for you.” He dropped the pile of clothes onto the floor. “You can use room 306. But I’ll warn you, the bed squeaks really loud.” He winked before shutting the door, taking whatever might have happened with him.
Ash was back on defense, his hand running through his dirty hair, and he avoided looking at me.
“Don’t use all the hot water,” he grumbled before grabbing the satchel and stomping out of the room.
It was a full two minutes that I stood there, confused, wanting to cry, and trying to tell myself he wasn’t about to kiss me.
I wanted to kill Maestro, but at the same time, it might have been for the best.
Ash was still in love with this Kek and Lukas.
I wanted him to kiss me because he couldn’t think of anything else. Wanted it more than air and not because he was lonely, horny, and lost.
I would never be someone’s second choice again.