Chapter 45 #2
I don’t have to. I know that. I’ve never had to.
I’ve wanted to.
I’ve wanted him to ease the burning in me. I’ve wanted him to distract me from the trauma and pain. I’ve wanted him to ruin my mind with pleasure.
And now I want him to give me some sort of connection to the here and now, to the version of life that he paints where it all connects. Where it’s all important. Where I can accept myself the way he accepts me.
I sink down onto him and we begin moving together. This time it’s not fast or desperate. It’s not the lust-fueled passion that we’ve had every other time we’ve come together.
This is just… connection.
And there’s something infinitely beautiful about that.
He holds me as I begin to lose my grasp on reality. His fingers dig into my hips as my head falls back, and I’m staring at those stars again. Then he’s following me into oblivion with my name on his lips.
In the silence that follows, I remain atop him, resting my head in the crook of his neck while his hand plays with my hair aimlessly.
“I have questions,” I whisper softly.
He nods against me before pressing a kiss to my brow. “Tomorrow. I’ll tell you everything you want to know tomorrow. For now, let’s get you to bed.”
We emerge from the water, awkwardly putting on the leather that now feels uncomfortable on our damp skin. It’s only needed for the walk back to his tent, though. And then we’re bare again, curled up on the bedroll together.
Without warning, he pulls me against his chest, wrapping an arm around my stomach to keep me pressed there. We’ve shared a bed a few times before, I’ve even passed out on his chest when I was too exhausted after our unions to move myself away.
After everything that’s happened, though, this seems infinitely more personal.
I should protest, but I don't.
Whether I’m ready to admit it or not, the weight of his arm around me, the warmth of his body behind mine, is so unbelievably comforting. It’s tender, and fuck, it feels safe.
The entirety of the Mortal Kingdoms fears the Fae warrior wrapped around me, but I fall asleep in his arms and I don’t have a single nightmare.
Derian lets me ride beside him today. Cal is a hundred paces in front of us, Ulna and Taric an equal distance behind. All of them are far enough away that they shouldn’t be able to hear our conversation.
“You promised me answers,” I remind him, working to keep my voice even.
We spoke little after waking up. Everyone was in a rush to get back on the road since we’re so close to our destination. Truthfully, I think he was as unsure how to act around me as I was around him.
We’d spent the entire night tangled up together. Despite the fact that I’d slept more peacefully than I had in ages, my head was now spinning just as much as it had been last night, but for entirely different reasons now.
What we’d done with our bodies last night had been dangerously closer to love making than it was to simply acting out carnal desires.
And that feels…
Well, I don’t know how I feel about that.
He is the Fae prince, nightmare of the Mortal Kingdoms. I’d do well to remember that regardless of what I may or may not feel.
“So, I did,” he answers, shifting slightly on his horse. “What do you want to know?”
I chew on my lip, ignoring the growing unease in my stomach. We’ve been riding for hours already, and he keeps glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as if he’s been waiting for me to work up the courage for this conversation.
“Where does it come from?” I ask him, glancing down at where my fingers are grasping the reins of my horse in an iron fist. “The magic, I mean.”
Derian looks at me with a furrowed brow, as if he hadn’t been expecting that question.
Truthfully, the question just slipped out, surprising me almost as much as him. I had planned to demand every detail I could about the Velkai, and I still intend to get that information, but the second my mouth opened, that other question came out.
His lips quirk a little before he turns back to the road ahead of us, and I’m positive that’s relief in his eyes. Relief that exists because asking that question exposes the fact that I’m starting to realize I can’t just wish away whatever light exists in me.
“We don’t know, not fully. Our histories tell us that before the Ever Realm was made solid, it was made of pure ether.”
“Ether?”
He nods, pursing his lips as if trying to decide the best way to explain. I don’t imagine he’s had to explain the details of Fae magic to many other Mortals.
Although, I’m not Mortal.
Not technically. Not fully.
“Ether is a sort of primal magical energy. Even now, ether rises from the ground naturally. Both Fae and Mortal carry ether inside of them, but Fae bodies can materialize that ether, store it, and manipulate it, in a way that Mortal bodies can’t.”
“For basic magic?”
He once told me that all Fae can control basic magics, simpler kinds of tricks like healing and warming bathwater, in addition to whatever specialty they wield.
Derian nods, the sunlight catching on his dark hair as he does.
It’s grown out quite a bit since I first met him, hanging easily over his brows now.
I like it better this way, slightly too long and curling at the ends.
Always a little unkempt and windblown. It makes him look more like the warrior he is and less like the prince he was dressed up to be at that masquerade.
I physically shake my head to clear out all thoughts about Derian’s shiny hair.
“The ether is why we get sick if we’re not around other Fae, we emit a small amount of it too. Being around other Fae helps you maintain the balance in your system, so to speak.”
“Why are there differences in what you can wield?” I question, thinking back to the various abilities that Fae have.
“Our ability to wield develops from our personalities.” He ignores when I shiver at him including me within the category of Fae. “Earth wielders, for example, tend to be very practical and dependable. They’re patient but also very no-nonsense. Cal’s a nearly perfect example of that.”
I nod, from the little I know of Derian’s friend, that makes sense.
“Fire wielders,” he continues, “can be rather impulsive and quick-tempered like you saw with Seraphina. Storm wielders—”
“Let me guess,” I interrupt, a grin playing at the edges of my lips. “Intense and broody? Wicked and unpredictable tempers?”
Derian hardly glances at me, even as his lips twitch into a crooked smile. “We’re also rather passionate, but I think you’ve gathered that much already.”
If we weren’t on a horse, I’d have stomped his foot.
“Well, what about me?” I ask suddenly.
He frowns. “What about you?”
“The light. What are people with that ability like?”
He works to avoid my gaze, but I don’t miss the shadow that covers his features or the way his posture stiffens slightly.
“There aren’t Fae like you, Huntress, at least not any that I’ve met before. That light wielding of yours is probably an incredibly rare ability. Possibly even more rare than storm wielding.”
A heavy silence falls between us. As if it isn’t bad enough that I’m one of them, I have to be a super special one-of-a-kind Fae? My stomach clenches unhappily at the thought.
“Velkai,” I clear my throat, desperate to turn the subject. “What are they?”
Derian looks at me for a longtime before he answers. I suspect he wasn’t done talking about my magic. He hasn’t brought up teaching me to use it again, but I have no doubt that unpleasant conversation is going to be initiated again soon.
“They’re older than either Fae or Mortals,” he tells me. “We don’t even think they’re natural to the Ever Realm.”
I frown. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs, as if what he’s suggesting isn’t absolutely ridiculous.
“We think they’re from another realm. They rival the power of the Vaereth, what you know as the Gods.
Neither seem to use ether the way we do.
Velkai are able to take it. Naturally their bodies draw it in, that's why any patch of land they stay in for long periods of time becomes barren. They can also rob it, sucking directly from other people.”
A shudder racks down my spine, and I don’t bother hiding the look of disgust on my face as I picture the way the Velkai sucked the very essence out of Roland.
For a moment, it’s all I can see. I’m right back in those woods, watching him fall before me.
“And these Gods, the Vaereth?” I stumble over the word, tongue awkwardly twisting around the pronunciation.
Once again, Derian gives me that infuriatingly casual shrug. “They disappeared during the War. They took great losses when trying to defeat the Velkai. Most believe that once the Velkai threat was handled, they returned to whatever realm they came from.”
I puzzle over that, something about it not sitting right with me.
“Just like that?” I question. “They were here for longer than either Mortals or Fae and then just decided to…leave?”
“Maybe they decided we weren’t worth defending after the war.”
They hardly sound any better than the Velkai then. Even if they weren’t seeking to harm us, standing by and watching us die isn’t much better.
Still, if it’s that easy to just disappear into another realm, why couldn’t we just shove the Velkai through a one-way door back to where they came from?
Quiet falls over us again. He lets me think through things on my own, puzzling through memories and bits of facts as I piece together information in a way that now makes sense. The only indication that he’s on edge is the slight humidity in the air.
That humidity lingers around us throughout the next few hours, but never escalates past that. Even when we stop for a quick lunch and I refuse to speak to anyone, he gives me my space.
It’s only once we’re back on our horses, and Cal announces that we’re approaching the manor, that the final question bursts out of me.
“Why were you surprised to see three of them yesterday?”
He stiffens. It’s so slight, just the smallest straightening of the spine, but I see it, and it’s enough to make my blood run cold.
“Velkai don’t work well in groups. They’re violent, self-centered creatures. The last time I saw them in groups was when a leader had emerged among them. A queen.”
“The Mother?”
He nods. “She was known as the Velkai Mother. She was by far the most powerful and vicious among them, and somehow, she managed to unite them all. They’re powerful on their own, but as an army they’re nearly unstoppable.
The Vaereth killed her during the war, or so at least, that's what we thought.”
“But if she’s not dead…”
Derian meets my eyes, the intensity in his gaze enough to leave me shuddering once more. “Then the blood that was spilled during the last war was only the beginning.”
A sharp breeze blows past me, lifting my hair. I wonder if he even knows he’s doing it, or if his magic leaks out as easily as mine apparently does.
“You make it sound like we’re all screwed,” I try to joke, but it lands flatly between us.
“If they were telling the truth, and she is alive, we just might be.”