Chapter Fifty
I awoke the next morning to red hair and a face of freckles.
“Do none of you heinous Trusted understand the concept of personal space?” I asked, hissing the words at him.
Henry lay next to me, Bellamy nowhere to be found. His smile was teasing, eager to make comments. I groaned, not ready to deal with him so early, but knowing I would be unable to fight him off for long.
“What first, pumpkin, the size of his cock or how long he lasted?” I asked.
Henry’s eyes widened a fraction, green irises shining in the daylight that seeped through the tent opening. Then he burst into laughter, rolling onto his back and clutching his stomach.
I smiled, though the fatigue of the burnout, the sex, and the emotional wreckage of the days prior weighed heavily on me. One thing was true above all others—wit could get me past the worst of it. That and some food. My stomach grumbled loudly, as if my thoughts had reminded it of that hunger.
“How about we get you fed and you can tell me all the dirty details?” he asked as he hauled himself up, face full of eagerness. I rolled my eyes, but gladly took the hand he offered. When I was on my feet, he pulled me against his chest, a coy smile forming. “Or perhaps you can show me.”
Scoffing at his pitiful excuse for humor, I batted the Sun away. He chuckled, maintaining his grip on my hand as he attempted to pull us through the tent opening. I reared back, tugging my hand from his hold. Surprise left him momentarily still, then he realized what I was doing.
“Must you get fully dressed first? There is no need for this shy modesty, not when you look like you do. Plus, I think breakfast might be far more enjoyable with you in only Bell’s top. Watching him get worked up is like free entertainment,” Henry said, shrugging.
I eyed him as I grabbed my trousers from last night, dirty and wrinkled and buttonless, but the best I could do other than listen to the carrot top and eat breakfast nearly nude. He watched me, all the while that stupid smirk still graced his freckled face. My head hurt, my stomach groaned, and my core tightened at the very thought of the demon prince.
Eternity save me from what I had awakened in myself.
There would be no going back now. Fae were territorial, to say the least. When we loved, we did so abundantly and without restraint. There was no limit to what we would do for love, no line we would not cross. I had no idea if Bellamy’s demon side altered that, but I knew myself, and I had to be careful. I had a tendency to err on the side of dramatics.
Henry still stood there, eyes alight as I attempted to straighten Bellamy’s tunic. It was disheveled, and even my weaker nose could smell the scent of sex on it. It would have to do though. I shook out my hair, hoping that smoothing out the tangles with my fingers would hide the mess of his hands running through them all night.
The thought of his hands on me, in me, brought a fresh wave of arousal, flooding my cheeks with heat. I would need to fight that once I saw the wicked demon, or else everyone would definitely know.
“My oh my, I cannot wait to see what Bell does when you walk out looking as you do. I would bet fifty silvers that your little lover snaps when he hears Cyprus hit on you. Though, I would not be able to blame him, you look quite incredible. The sex glow is truly working in your favor, little brat,” Henry said, messing my hair once more and laughing as I slapped his hand away.
I gave a long-suffering sigh, having little confidence that he would find me boring and simply leave me to my stress.
Last night, as sleep overcame me, I had thought of what Bellamy was to me. Not a friend, not a husband, something strangely in between yet also far more. I had decided that he must tell me what it was he was hiding, that we would be nothing if he did not tell me everything. He promised that our arrival to the palace would lead to answers, and I would hold him to that.
Yet, I did wonder how he would act now that I had vowed to be his. It was not a simple thing to give, the heart. My body had been given before, but my love, that had only ever been awarded to Sipho. And it had ended in such tragedy that I feared what it would do to Bellamy and I. Especially when I told him of the choice I had made.
Henry seemed to think it would be entertaining to watch the prince squirm, though there was also some strange tension between the two that I had never understood. So perhaps he was hoping for a horrible ending, for Bellamy to fall. I had no idea, though I did not see Henry as the vindictive and hateful type.
“Why do you not like Bellamy?” I asked, my curiosity winning over my sensibility. It was not very respectful to outright ask, especially when Bellamy was not there to defend himself or tell his side. But I simply had to know.
He blanched, the confident stance he always held faltering. Oh, color me intrigued.
I pressed my power to the painfully bright barrier of his mind, caressing it with feather light touches. The demon relaxed, as if comforted by the way I sat at the edge of his consciousness. There was a tiny gap there, small enough to squeeze through. Then I was inside the vast expanse of his head.
I had always loved this, the way minds varied from being to being. How it felt to be inside of someone’s soul in this way, to truly know them. Three months ago, I would have hated myself for the way I enjoyed this feeling, but no longer.
I rather liked being the villain, as it turned out.
Henry’s mind had a tangy taste to it, the tip of my physical tongue could nearly sense it, though not quite. His mind was light not only from his Sun magic, but also because of who he was. Henry was an incredibly bright soul—a beautiful one.
Please, Henry, will you show me what I wish to know?
He complied, so quickly I nearly lost my footing in his mind. The memories raced, past our journey to Dunamis, past my arrival to Eoforhild, past Bellamy bringing me to the market of Haven.
I came to an abrupt halt in front of Bellamy, dressed in red finery, hair arranged perfectly, mischief in his eyes. This was the night of my introductory ball.
I saw Bellamy through Henry’s eyes, as it always worked when looking through the lens of another being’s memories. That also meant that I was privy to the thoughts that he had at the time of this discussion. As Bellamy looked into a large mirror, arranging his golden rings and straightening his jacket to perfection, Henry watched on.
I tugged the image, allowing myself to fall into it, embrace it. Suddenly it felt as if my conscious were falling, straight into that memory.
Bellamy was at it again. Lying, plotting. It was so very him. The only difference this time, was that he was not including me in those schemes. My best friend, my brother of sorts, leaving me out of something I could tell was monumental.
Never before had he dressed so impeccably for a trip to Betovere. What purpose was there to wear finery when rescuing the fae?
There was none, of course. No, he had other plans. And I wanted to know.
“Do share with the group why you are dazzling the needy fae with such an outfit,” I drawled, smirking at him through the mirror as he meticulously arranged his clothing.
He seemed…nervous. Strange.
He eyed me through the mirror as well, his mouth in that perpetual frown he had worn for the last few months. Bastard loved to ruin a good time before it began. So serious. This though, was something new entirely. Whatever he was not saying must have been juicy.
“I am taking her. Tonight,” he said, shoulders shrugging as if it were a trivial task.
I knew exactly who he meant, and it was no such thing. He planned to abduct the princess of Betovere looking like a twat? What would he do, charm the poor thing into submission?
I stared, mouth slightly agape. Idiot. Such a fucking idiot.
Finally, I snapped back into myself, shaking my head violently at the notion. He could not be serious.
Please, do not be serious.
“Ah yes, a mundane mission such as robbing the Fae Realm of their greatest weapon and sole heir should only require you and a bad haircut. Smart,” I quipped, already growing angry with his vague explanation.
He turned, facing me head on. I could tell how little patience he had as well by the stern look he offered, though I could not imagine why. I was a joy to be around after all.
“I cannot tell you why, Henry. I promised Pino. You know how he is about risks when it comes to sharing—”
“Futures, as they are ever changing and evolving. Yes, yes, we know this. Now get to the part where you concede and tell me anyways,” I said, cutting him off from the tangent he would have surely used to get out of the conversation.
A brilliant idiot is still an idiot, after all.
He huffed, rubbing his hand across his face. One more look at my resolved face and he sat, leaning his elbows on his knees and smacking his head into his waiting palms. What could possibly be this stressful?
“You will not understand,” he said, voice wavering. I had him. I stared on, crossing my arms. Finally, he relented. “I love her, Henry. She is my future, our future. I need her. We all do.”
I froze.
Never, not once, had I heard him utter such a sentence.
I love her.
Who could he possibly love? He had never even said those words to Noe or I, and he has known us for over two centuries. Nearly his entire life.
Love?
I shook my head once more, as if I could weed out the thoughts. Bellamy did not love. Bellamy could barely handle himself, let alone someone else. I had told him as much to his face.
What was happening?
“Whom, may I ask, is the unlucky, and likely unknowing, female that is cursed with your unheard of affection?” I asked, not able to drop the sarcasm from my tone.
If I did, I might explode. I might tell him he could not be more foolish. I might say that whatever infatuation Pino had planted in his head was a fever dream at best, and a disaster at worst. I might say she was not worth the pain.
“The princess. Asher, is her name. She is, well, she is everything. Brilliant, funny, talented, strong, caring. Luca says she is an incredible monarch in the making as well. And she is stunning. Her magic is unlike anything I have ever seen. Incredible really. She is my future, and I am hers. I need her, as soon as possible,” he confided, letting loose a heavy exhale upon finishing.
I was swimming in the idea of Bellamy deciding to not only steal the princess to use as a weapon, but attempting to seduce her as well. It would not end well. It could not end even somewhat well. We would all die. This was the war I had fought for, because the fae rulers needed to be dealt with, but him stealing away their heir, that would be bloody.
“Let us say you are not being horribly foolish, and you do, in fact, love this Asher. What if she does not love you? What if your tricks only push her away from you? Will you tell her of the future Pino prophesized for the two of you? Or will you attempt to trick her and lie your way through a relationship you plan on fabricating? You must see how wrong this plan is. I understand taking her for her magi—wait. You said magic, not power. What do you mean by that? What are you leaving out, Bell?” I asked, panicking now at the thought of the unknown.
She was not demon, but we had also never heard of a fae with power like hers. He knew something, and he was keeping it to himself. I was livid, because never before had he done this. Withheld information vital to the lives of our race, of all the creatures in Eoforhild. Not from me.
Bellamy though, did not seem to care as he watched the hurt from betrayal cross my face. Nor did he apologize. Instead, he quickly stood, offering me a final nod as he called to his shadows. To the moon.
The last thing I heard as I lunged for that smoke and mist were two words.
“Trust me.”
That I would not do. Nor would I forgive him for putting our entire realm in danger for a dream as impossible as The Manipulator.