Chapter 38
It’s so damn bright outside I can barely keep my eyes open.
I didn’t know Lucas was this strong, but it feels like he’s been carrying me forever. Fresh, cold air scrapes at my lungs, my breathing short and shallow. I hear noises—birds, footsteps, ragged panting.
Someone speaks. Someone else argues.
I must have drifted out of consciousness again, because the next thing I know I’m lying in a bed, the fire crackling beside me, and someone is touching my cheek.
“Try to drink this,” a voice offers. I know that voice—it’s Gideon. “It will make you feel better.”
“Gideon?” I murmur, trying to open my eyes, but they are so damn heavy. Everything is a blur, but I make out the object he’s lifting to my mouth—a small glass jar.
Oh, please, I need them to dose me up with all the Fae medicine they’ve got.
I take it without hesitation. The medicine tastes bitter on the tip of my tongue, but a hell of a lot sweeter than death, so I drink it all. Every last drop.
“Where’s Kieran?” That’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth.
I blink. Once. Twice. Until my eyes adjust to the surroundings.
Gideon sits beside my bed. Lucas slouches in an armchair near the door.
The walls are dark wood. The only decoration in this place is a single painting hanging crooked above the mantelpiece.
This isn’t anyone’s home.
A cabin. A safe house, perhaps.
“He’s at home, resting.”
“I don’t understand.” I shove the blanket aside, trying to get up, and failing miserably. Gideon catches me just in time and helps me back into bed again. “Why is he not better? Your medicine healed me overnight when I was stabbed.”
“Iron dust is different.” Gideon sighs. “But first of all, you need to sit down and eat something.”
“I don’t want to eat. I want to see Kieran.”
“Yes, because Lucas risked his life to save you just for you to be reckless and walk right into a trap.”
That sentence lands like a punch to the ribs.
I sink into the headboard, staring past him. I can’t imagine what it’s been like for Kieran—days and days of not knowing what’s going on. Does he even know about the riots? Does he know about me?
I can’t imagine he does.
And I pray Atticus hasn’t whispered in his ears, twisting the truth and painting me as a villain.
“What do we do, Gideon?” I ask, trying to gather every bit of myself together. If I’m going to fight, I have to be strong.
“You focus on not dying, for now,” he says flatly.
“We can’t risk taking you to him, Cass, as much as we want to.
If Atticus captures you again …” He pauses, eyes hardening.
“It won’t be pretty. And if anything happens to you, Kieran will burn this Court to the fucking ground.
” He rises to his feet. “I made soup, and I’m going to heat it up. You need to eat and rest for now.”
It’s not fair.
Not at all.
I don’t want to rest. I have barely moved in days—or however long it’s been—and all I want is medicine in my veins and a blade in my hand.
I can fight.
I want to try.
But then reality sinks its teeth in.
I don’t even know what kind of messed-up black magic Atticus has up his sleeves. If Kieran made him acting High Lord, he must be powerful.
“I should have turned Fae,” I mutter to Lucas, my fingers curling into fists. “At least I could’ve fought.”
“Or died with that same perfume.”
“But I wouldn’t have been so pathetic,” I counter.
“You don’t mean that,” Lucas murmurs, stepping closer to take Gideon’s seat beside me. “You didn’t want to turn Fae, Cass. Not now.”
No, but I do want to save Kieran.
I would do anything to save him—just like he’d take that throne to save me.
It’s dangerous, what we have.
But nothing else matters if we’re not together.
“How did it become like this, Lucas?” I ask, my voice starting to break again. “We didn’t come here for this …”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” He scoffs, raking a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t even know what’s going to happen to us, but I guess this is our life now.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
And if I’m going to be immortal, this won’t be the last crisis we face. I imagine the Fae must take things for granted sometimes, thinking they have forever to chase what they want—until something like this creeps up on them, ripping them of all their hopes and dreams.
I don’t want forever. I just want one more day with Kieran.
“We’ll find a way,” Lucas whispers, squeezing my hand, but I’m not sure he believes it.
I eat in silence, a simple soup tasting almost decadent after days of stale bread. Laia comes by later and helps me to the bath, where I wish I could stay until all the problems magically dissolve into the water.
I fall asleep again not long after. My mind screams “wake up,” but my body knows better—it needs more rest. The Fae medicine drags me under, and the low murmur of Gideon and Lucas in the next room becomes a lullaby.