5. Let Me Stay Forever
5
Let Me Stay Forever
Idris
A liza hadn’t exaggerated when she’d suggested opening the window. The single bed barely fit in the room, with the walls pressing against three sides, and I was unable to lay flat along the too-short mattress. Instead of dangling my feet out of the window at the foot of the bed, I propped my thin pillows and sat up, stretching my legs. I could sleep sitting if need be, but I didn’t want to doze off. The sounds of Aliza shifting around her room had long since ceased, but my ears strained, alert to any hints of trouble. I’d warded the house the moment we’d arrived, but it wasn’t external threats that worried me.
I didn’t know if she’d omitted the tale of her burning to protect her parents, or because she wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Perhaps both. If it was the latter, I hoped she was able to push it from her mind. It seemed an impossible feat, but still, I hoped. She hadn’t deserved such a fate and certainly didn’t deserve to relive it, even inside her mind.
What Aliza had been through was unthinkable. She hadn’t slept since she’d woken from her transformation, and I had enough experience of trauma to suspect that the night would not be a peaceful one. With any luck, the exhaustion of recent days would carry her through until morning, but if not …
I hadn’t bothered to get under the blanket or undress fully, removing my shirt and boots only for the sake of comfort. When— if —she needed me, I would not be delayed.
Despite my wary misgivings, my heart skipped. I didn’t have to give her up, now or ever. She was immortal. She was coming back to Neath with me. Perhaps not with me in the sense that I wanted, but as long as she was there, as long as we were together in some capacity, it was enough. We would have time to explore the rest, if she wished. If not, this was enough, as long as she was happy.
That didn’t mean I couldn’t hope. When I’d kissed her in Fairy Glen, it had been a moment of madness, the thought of saying goodbye, of never seeing her again, driving me to seize my one chance. It had been a gamble, but to my delight, my efforts had been returned with passionate fervour, even though she’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want this life. Had it been the heightened emotions of the situation that had fuelled her reaction, or something more?
I couldn't prevent myself from hoping for the latter.
Whatever it had been, the waters had been muddied by the bond I’d created. We were forever connected in ways even I didn’t fully understand, let alone Aliza. Rhodd Anfarwol, the gift of immortality bestowed by a fae upon a mortal, was rarely used and as such, records of its effects were unreliable at best. I’d studied every crumb of information I could find when preparing for the possibility of using it on Taryn, should he have inherited his mother’s brutally mortal lifespan, but I’d found no definitive answers. Rhodd Anfarwol was, by its very nature, a gift of great love. Platonic or romantic, its subjects already cared deeply for one another, and as such, its effects on them were difficult to separate from their existing feelings .
For all I knew, Aliza was the first person to receive immortality from somebody she barely knew. Any fledgling feelings she might have nursed for me would be entangled in the snare of connection I’d trapped us in but didn’t understand. It would take time to separate real from created, assuming either existed at all.
I sighed, heavier than I’d intended, and promptly silenced myself. The house was peaceful, though how John slept through Trish’s snores was anybody’s guess. My lips curved into a smile at the memory of their reunion with their daughter, at the thought of how happy they must be, even in sleep. I knew better than anyone that emotion could follow into the realm of dreams. I’d spent almost three unwilling centuries there, but it had brought me no peace. My smile faded as the darkness in my heart grew. I would never know their joy. Taryn was never coming back.
A black wave of grief reared inside me, burning my eyes and constricting my throat. It did that often, a stray thought or unprompted feeling unleashing an unexpected rush of despair. I shoved my memories away. Tonight was not the night to wallow. I had a vigil to keep.
Shifting carefully in the creaking bed, I stretched for my pack. The room was small enough that I could reach every corner from my spot, and after a moment, I settled back against my thin pillows, letting my sketchbook fall open in my lap. I skimmed through the pages, averting my eyes whenever I stumbled upon a drawing of Taryn. From a scrawny newborn to a robust toddler, I’d documented his life in art. This book should have been full by now. Instead, most of the pages were empty. The injustice of it seared just as much as it had two hundred and seventy years ago, but for the first time since I’d woken, I wanted to discover what the future held for me. I wanted to have a future.
Settling on a blank page, I rolled the blunt end of my pencil over my lip, thinking. What to draw? Many of the images scorched across my mind were of things I never wanted to see again, but there were glimpses of hope and happiness mingled amongst the horrors. My past clashing with what I hoped could be that shining, tempting future.
With a broad sweep of my pencil, I set to work, and soon, even the sound of snores faded into the background. Sketching stilled my mind. Focused it. Calmed the storm. Perhaps that was why I’d dedicated much of my time to it since I’d woken from the curse. It was easy to drown out the world with a pencil in my hand. Easy to get lost in my impossible quest for perfection. No drawing was ever finished. Even now, I could add more detail to the portraits of Taryn, but who was to say time hadn’t altered the image of him burnt into my memory? Though my body had slept, my mind had often been awake, trapped in a useless shell. Such things could warp even the surest of memories. It was best not to meddle with the past.
The scratch of my pencil lulled me into calm relaxation, while my fixation on my drawing kept exhaustion at bay. In what felt like minutes, but was more likely an hour, my piece was beginning to take shape. I paused to scrutinise it for imperfections that would be harder to correct once the heavier shading began.
A creak on the other side of the wall drew my attention. Aliza, turning over in bed. My ears strained, and dimly, I caught the sound of her breathing. Was it heavier than it had been?
A whimper chased another creak, and I snapped my book shut, tossing it onto the mattress as I got silently to my feet. I crossed the room in a single step and eased the door open, careful not to disturb Trish and John. Out on the dark landing, Aliza’s breathing rang louder, harsher. The nightmare had come, just as I’d known it would but hoped it wouldn’t.
With my hand hovering over her door handle, I hesitated. Would she settle? Was it a fleeting moment of fear in an otherwise lovely dream?
“No,” she mumbled, thrashing again.
I didn’t bother with the handle. Instead, I slid through space, stepping briefly into the heavy void and out into her room. Her bed materialised before me, and there she was.
Aliza’s brow was furrowed, glowing with sweat. Her breath burst through parted lips. In the moonlight seeping through the thin curtains, her cheeks glimmered with tears.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Stop.”
Should I wake her, or would it be best to let her rouse herself? My heart thudded against my ribs.
Her legs thrashed, tangling in the blankets.
“Aliza,” I whispered, sitting down beside her. “It’s just a dream.”
I reached for her shoulder, but before I could make contact, she jerked upright, a scream ripping free of her throat. For a second, the sound pierced the night, but I clamped my hand over her mouth and gathered her to my chest.
“It’s alright, it’s me,” I murmured hurriedly. “Idris. It’s just a dream.”
Her scream died against my palm as she went limp, slumping against me, a sob jerking her body .
“You’re safe.” I smoothed a hand over her tangled hair. “It’s not real.”
She dissolved. Her arms wrapped around me, clinging with all her strength as she wept against my chest. The fractures in my heart widened. This was wrong. She should not be suffering like this. She deserved better.
“You’re home, in your bed,” I reminded her, keeping my voice low and soft. “Your parents are sleeping soundly in the next room, and I’m right here. You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you.”
I would eviscerate anything that tried. I’d almost managed it with that fucking vampire, but the freshly fed bloodsucker had been a little too fast. It would think twice before touching her again, though, and if it did…
As for my uncle, disembowelment would be too pleasant for him. He’d taken Taryn from me. He’d almost taken Aliza. She was crying because of him. I would burn his fingers and toes to the bone. I would peel the skin from his body. I would carve out his eyes with a rusty knife. I would—
Aliza drew a great, shuddering gasp. On her outward breath, she quieted, the body quaking sobs ceasing. I nudged my nose against her head, and she tilted her tear-streaked face to look at me. The small, bleak smile she gave me ground the fractured pieces of my heart together.
“Sorry.” She hiccoughed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“Never apologise to me,” I whispered, toying with the ends of her hair, hung at her waist. “And don’t worry, I wasn’t sleeping. You were right, I couldn’t fit in the bed. ”
She laughed, and the sound had my face breaking into a smile. It astounded me that I was still capable of such things, but Aliza made it easy. Her laugh turned into another wobbly gasp, and a fresh tear spilt down her wet cheek. I caught it with the backs of my fingers, wiping it away.
“I had a nightmare,” she admitted needlessly, her face solemn. “About…”
There was no need to tell me. The image of her poor body, eaten by flames, was scorched to the back of my eyelids, as was the image of her healed and whole, but dead. I was still figuring out which was worse.
“About you ruining my hair.”
Her transparent bid to deflect my concern with humour was effective. And I chuckled. “Ill never hear the last of this, will I?”
She hiccoughed, shaking her head, but made no further attempts to divert me. Fear and grief pulsed down the bond, feelings I knew all too well. I folded her close again, propping my chin atop her head. “I have nightmares, too.”
“Do you?” Her voice was muffled against my chest. My heart beat stronger in answer.
“All the time.” The longest had lasted two hundred and seventy years. At least they were shorter lately, restricted to the few hours of sleep I managed each night.
“You wake up alone.”
It wasn’t a question. Was I supposed to respond?
Her hands slid up my back to my shoulder blades, and I fought down a grimace as they strayed past the still-healing wounds the vampire had left .
“Stay with me? In case one of us has another nightmare about boring coloured hair.”
My ribs constricted, making it all but impossible to draw a breath. I would stay with her forever, if she’d have me, whatever colour her hair was. I nodded as best I could, with her head beneath my jaw.
We shifted seamlessly, somehow making it beneath the covers without ever letting go of each other. I laid my head on the pillow, only inches away from her beautiful face.
“Will it get easier?” Her breath warmed my face.
Would it? I swallowed, my eyes losing focus. The truth was, it didn’t. The only reason I was alive at all was because I’d found a new reason to struggle through each day. Sometimes, I wasn’t convinced it was enough. My demons were different to Aliza’s, true, but they both revelled in our torture. I shifted my eyes back to hers. “I don’t know yet.”
“Do fae believe in an afterlife?” Her whisper was tentative, as though she was afraid she might tip me over the edge and into a chasm of self-pity.
“Of course. Don’t humans?” Jane had been a human, but born in Neath. Aliza’s beliefs would undoubtedly be different, shaped by her world and the people in it.
“Yeah. Well, I mean, there’s a lot to choose from, but I never believed in any of them. I never believed in fairies either though, and now look at me.”
Amusement huffed from my nose. “Perhaps you could believe in ours. When we die, we go to another realm called the Evermore.”
“The witches told me that fae are immortal, but that’s not true, is it? ”
“We are, in a way. Our afterlife is just… a continuation, after this body grows tired. We can be killed, of course, but if allowed to live out our natural lifespan, we spend about fifteen hundred years in this realm, then our souls move to the next. There, we achieve true immortality.”
Taryn was there, and my father. I hoped they’d found each other. I hoped Father was caring for Taryn, until I could. My throat tightened again.
“Is that what happened to your father? His body got tired?”
I gave my head a tiny shake, trying to dislodge the memory of that day. Of the way my mother had howled, and how Anwir’s eyes had gleamed with ambition. “No. He was killed in a hunting accident. He was separated from his guards, and they found him wounded in the wood. By the time the healer caught up, it was too late.”
Her eyebrows peaked together a fraction of a second before she shuffled closer, using my bicep as a pillow. “Oh, Idris.”
My breath came easier than it had done in a long time as I curled around Aliza, wrapping her in my arms. I would never be complete, but with her, I was as near to whole as I would ever be.
Dawn was seeping through the sheer curtains when I reluctantly extracted myself from Aliza’s arms and slid silently from the bed. She grumbled at the disturbance, but settled when I tucked the bedding snuggly around her, enveloping her in a cocoon of our shared body heat .
I lingered, ensuring she slipped back into a peaceful sleep, and not one plagued by nightmares. Or, if I was being truthful with myself, perhaps I stared because she looked so beautiful that it caused something inside my chest to melt.
A sharp throb in my lower back reminded me why I’d finally given up my attempts to sleep. It wasn’t only because Aliza’s parents might soon wake, and I doubted John would take kindly to finding me in his daughter’s bed, but because the slices gauging my back were being particularly bothersome tonight.
The door dragged over the carpet as I eased it open, and Aliza stirred again. I tensed, looking back, but she rolled away, facing the window, and grumbled no more.
The same could not be said of my wounds.
They drove me across the cramped landing and into the tiny bathroom. The dull light seeping through the blind illuminated my reflection in the over-sink mirror, but not well enough to see the finer details of my wounds as I twisted, straining to peer over my shoulder.
How did light work in the human world?
Giving up my attempts to examine my injuries, I revolved on the spot, searching for the candles and oil lamps that were commonplace in Neath. The magical orbs of light, generated by fae magic, would not be found here, of course, and I didn’t dare risk expending a drop of my magic. The solitary candle that perched on the corner of the bath was unlikely to improve my situation. The taps, however, were similar enough to what I was accustomed to that I successfully procured a stream of water which splashed into the sink, warming slowly.
Half blind, I splashed water awkwardly onto the small of my back in an attempt to clean the wound and buy myself some relief. Instead, the lukewarm liquid scalded like fire, and I grunted, bracing a hand on the basin.
A soft knock sounded at the door, followed by a whispered, “Idris, are you in there?”
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I ground out a brief confirmation. There had been a time when Aliza would have been unable to creep up on me, undetected. Becoming fae had apparently put a stop to that. Had I disturbed her?
“Are you okay?” she hissed through the closed door.
Conceding defeat, I turned off the tap and opened the door to find her bundled in a fluffy robe, concern shining in her shadowed eyes. I sighed. “I was trying to clean this.”
I turned around again, gesturing vaguely at the throbbing flesh.
With a cluck of her tongue, Aliza ushered me deeper into the bathroom, flicking a switch as she went. Glaring, artificial light blazed against my eyes as she closed the door behind us. She shoved her sleeves up to her elbows, turned on the tap and soaped up her hands and forearms with brisk efficiency.
“Let me see,” she said firmly, drying her hands on a blue towel hung on a hoop beside the sink.
I turned obediently, and warm, gentle fingers touched my skin. It hurt, but that wasn’t the sensation I paid attention to, not when the focus of my entire being narrowed to those tiny points of contact.
“These are deep, Idris.”
Was that a note of reprimand I detected?
“Why didn’t you get them stitched, or get a healer, or whatever it is you do in Neath? ”
Suspecting that my telling off was about to become more severe, I hesitated before answering. “The witch wanted to see to them, but I refused.”
“Why?”
“Because you ignored me when you left the ward, and I wanted to find you.”
I’d wanted to know why relentlessly talkative Aliza was refusing to speak to me. I’d wanted to tell her the truth of my brother’s schemes. Instead, I’d found her suite abandoned and her few personal effects gone, along with my horse. With thoughts of her falling from Saeth’s back and splattering over the ground filling my head, finding a healer for a few scratches had been the least of my concerns.
I braced for her admonishment, but she remained silent, her hands still resting lightly on my bare skin. She’d spent the past few hours nestled against me, but this was different. This had me holding my breath and imagining those gentle hands examining other areas of my body.
With a gruff cough, I forced such thoughts from my mind. She didn’t want the life I’d forced her into. She didn’t want any of its trappings, me included.
“To be fair,” Aliza mused, oblivious to my turmoil, “it is healing, and I don’t see any signs of infection. Does it hurt?”
I considered lying, if only to avoid any fussing, but the thought of her tending to me wasn’t as unappealing as it should have been. “Yes, a bit.”
The truth felt intolerably pathetic, a transparent bid for attention, and I screwed my eyes shut against the shame curdling in my belly. When I opened them again, I found my reflection staring back at me. It wasn’t the only one. Accusatory blue eyes peeked around my shoulder.
“That face didn’t look like ‘a bit’. So, Ja–the vampire gave you these?”
“I gave him a few injuries to remember me by, too,” I replied, inexplicably indignant. Vampires were terrible creatures with unmatched speed and strength. It had taken magic, rather than brute force, to drive them from our cities, so why did I judge myself this harshly for being all but gutted by one? At least I’d fought it off. That counted as a victory, didn’t it?
Aliza tutted again, and though her reflection had disappeared behind my shoulder again, I knew she’d rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, well done. I’m going to clean and dress this, okay?”
Without waiting for my reply, she nudged me aside and pulled the mirror away from the wall, revealing a cupboard behind it. All manner of bottles in strange, opaque material greeted us, as well as some colourful boxes. As Aliza extracted the items she needed, I picked up a blue and yellow box, turning it over in my hands. It was made of a thick, paper-like material, with a smooth, shiny coating.
“Those are tampons,” Aliza informed me with a barely masked note of amusement.
I had no inkling what that might mean, but I returned the box to its place as she laid her supplies out along the windowsill. She folded up a wad of cloud-like fluff and held it under the tap as she met my eyes, not through the mirror this time, but face to face. “I hate to say it, but this is probably going to sting. Turn around. ”
Clenching my teeth, I obeyed, and a moment later, my back erupted. Through sheer determination, the ungainly sound I almost made turned into a grunt, and I gripped the wall.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It won’t take long.”
She continued her dabbing, and eventually, the pain eased enough for me to release a breath.
“By the way.” Her words were tentative. Uncertain. “I don’t think I ever thanked you.”
“What for?” I ground out.
“For saving me that night, with the vampire. I… thank you. I’m sorry you got hurt.”
Something tightened in my chest. “I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Sorry I got hurt. It was worth it. I’d do it all again this very moment if I needed to. And… you’re welcome.”
Silence fell, but there was a softness to it, the sort that had me picturing a secret smile curving her lips. The corners of my mouth twitched in response.
In the sleepy quiet, Aliza worked, gentle but deft, and before long, she was done.
“There,” she said, and I turned to face her. She was closer than I’d anticipated. Her eyes, always exceptionally blue, had taken on a new hue since I’d changed her, and I gazed into them, mesmerised. She cleared her throat. “How does it feel?”
It felt like the beginning of forever. It felt like my future was right here before me. Whatever she’d said about not wanting this life, whatever I’d said in response, some nonsense about ignoring the bond, this felt inevitable .
“Your back?” she prompted, when I failed to respond.
I was a fool. She’d told me plainly that she didn’t want to be bound to me. I wouldn’t push this upon her anymore than I already had.
“Better,” I said truthfully. My fingers brushed the wound, only to be met by a dressing,
“I can get you some ibuprofen if you like? Though, I’m not sure how to dose a fae…”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I smiled all the same. She made such gestures easy. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Okay, well… there’s still a few hours before Mum and Dad wake up, so maybe we should get a bit more sleep.”
She was closest to the door, blocking our exit, but she made no move to leave, only stared up at me, her lips slightly parted. Such perfect, kissable lips. The memory of them pressed against mine had the world tilting, and somehow, I found myself leaning a little closer.
I wanted to taste her again. I wanted to relive the feeling of that beautiful body beneath my hands. Last time had been tainted by goodbyes, but next time… Next time, we would have as long as we wanted. There would be no more endings, not for us.
The bond I’d sworn to myself I’d ignore, at least until Aliza was ready to heed it, glowed, filling my chest with the sensation of sunlight. Without knowing quite how it happened, I dropped my forehead to hers, my breath leaving me in a whisper.
She didn’t stumble back. Didn’t crane her neck to avoid my touch.
Instead, her eyelids fluttered shut as she tipped her head, her nose nudging mine. I kept my eyes open, studying her breathtaking face for every tiny reaction as slowly, slowly, I lifted my hands to her neck.
She leaned into my touch .
Her flawless skin was soft and warm and delicate beneath my palms. I wanted to feel all of it. To claim the places I’d never touched before. Every exquisite inch of her. As for those little breaths that puffed over my face, I needed to know exactly how ragged I could make them. To consume them. To swallow them as they left her lips.
What would be the harm in that?
I swept my thumb over her throat. Her pulse floundered beneath my touch.
I’d vowed to wait, to let her lead us down this path when she was ready, but fuck, she was perfect. Resisting her for two days was a valiant enough effort, was it not? We could have this. I could taste her tonight and know I’d done everything in my power to resist, couldn’t I?
Yes , the bond whispered, or maybe it was her. Did she know her emotions were an open book to me? That ever since she’d been reborn, I’d been able to feel everything? Her grief. Her fear. That overwhelming concoction of excitement and anxiety at coming home? And earlier tonight, when I’d delivered her to her bed… it had been all I could do to walk away from that burgeoning desire inside her, telling myself that whatever she was feeling, she needed time.
Now, that breath-stealing, molten want that pulsed between us wiped every protest from my head.
My lips drifted closer.
A cough sounded on the other side of the thin walls, and my eyes, half-closed, snapped wide.
What was I doing? Had I taken leave of my morals?
Swallowing, I straightened my spine. If there was to be anything between us, it would be Aliza’s choice. I wouldn’t force this upon her, as I had this life. Her body’s reaction, her emotions, did not necessarily align with her true wants. When– if –she made that choice, I would be waiting, but until then…
I swept my hand down her arm, forcing myself not to linger. Just a friendly if somewhat awkward touch that conveyed nothing about how wholly I was hers. “Come on, then. Back to bed.”
Something dimmed in her eyes, and if I hadn’t been so intent on reining in my foolish hope, I might have believed it was disappointment, but she turned away before I could look too closely. She opened the door, plunging the room into semi-darkness once more. I followed her onto the landing, but when she headed right, I took the door straight ahead. To avoid John’s retribution, I told her, but truthfully, I was avoiding much more than that.