Chapter 40
Chapter forty
“Father says he’s helping me in the end with all of these endless lessons, but it doesn’t feel like he is.” – from the diary of Oren Byrne, age fifteen.
“And that’s all there is to it,” I said, demonstrating for Aidan.
“You’re a much better teacher than Jonathan,” Aidan grumbled.
“I have more patience and know you better,” I remarked. While Father should’ve been the one instructing Aidan, I’d taken over the last few days, and it had helped their relationship a great deal. Father now was only instructing Aidan on how to control his emotions so he didn’t affect Sídhetír.
I’d even sat in on some of those lessons, because I’d had them before and I wished to help Aidan in any way that I could, and he found it easier when I was there, which soothed a fragile part of my heart. We were healing. It would take time, but we were finding our ways back to each other.
When I’d joined the lessons, I had also noticed something.
What I saw that Aidan didn’t was how badly Father was trying to connect.
Father was terrible at showing his emotions or in relating to Aidan in general, but I could see how much he wanted to.
His eyes never strayed from Aidan and he would make half-hearted jokes that my brother didn’t notice.
Aidan had claimed that Father hated him, but I didn’t see that. Father loved Aidan; he was just unsure of how to be around him. In time, I hoped they would come to some sort of understanding.
Cethin made a noise, and I turned to look at him. He was half-draped over a chair with a book in his lap. I very much doubted he was reading, as he hadn’t flipped a page in at least a quarter of an hour or more; also, the book was upside down. But he’d been frequently making sounds of annoyance.
He was still mad at me. It had been days since Aidan and I had reconciled, but I’d asked Aidan to continue keeping Abnus out, even though Abnus continued to pound on the gate for me.
I needed more time to think or come to some sort of acceptance or…
I honestly didn't know what was keeping me from him.
Aidan being the good brother that he was, had done as I asked, earning the annoyance of Cethin.
Though, to be fair, Cethin wasn’t annoyed at Aidan.
The two had returned to their sickeningly in love attitude.
No, all of his anger was pointed at me. I was the one that was injuring his cousin, and he hated me for it.
“Comments, Cethin?” I asked, provoking him. I refused to be frightened of him.
He turned his bottomless eyes toward me, and I shivered. Well, I tried not to be frightened of him. I didn’t always succeed.
“How long are you going to keep my mate occupied?” Cethin demanded. “Wouldn’t you rather pester one of your other brothers?”
So his current frustration was physical. Cethin wanted to fuck, and I was in the way. I rolled my eyes and ignored the questions.
Aidan didn’t. “Cethin, could you get me something to eat?”
Cethin stood instantly and brushed a hand through Aidan’s hair. “You should have told me if you were hungry.”
“I just asked for food,” he said, laughing.
“Earlier. I dislike the idea of you in any type of discomfort.”
I averted my gaze when Aidan kissed his palm. “I know.”
Not caring about my presence, Cethin kissed his husband before rushing out the room, probably to terrorize the chefs into making Aidan’s favorite food.
Aidan bit his bottom lip, eyes closed and head cocked, then he nodded after a moment. “Come on.”
“What?”
Opening the window, he said, “We don’t have much time.”
“For what?” I demanded when Aidan jumped.
He looked up at me and grinned. “For an adventure.”
“How am I supposed to get down?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Jump.”
I stared down at him for a moment, then leaped out of the window. Vines coiled around my limbs and the ground rose to meet my feet before gently lowering me to Aidan’s level.
“Come on,” Aidan said, grinning in a way he hadn’t done since we were children.
His joy was contagious. I chased after him, laughing, as if we were boys once more, not two men.
We quickly saddled our own horses, then charged out of the gate.
The wind ripped through our hair and the day was bright and sunny, even if the grounds were covered in snow and it was frightfully cold.
Nonetheless, I was warm and happy. Aidan was laughing, we were together, and I was figuring out what exactly I was going to do… about everything.
Aidan pulled his horse to a stop, and I followed suit. Looking at me, cheeks red, he said, “You’re good at helping me.”
“Thank you.” A pleased grin spread over my face.
“You know, after school you could be my steward or assistant. Whatever title you prefer. You could also take over the household responsibilities if you’d like. You would be far better than Cethin.”
My pulse throbbed in my ears. “You would let me?”
He scoffed. “Of course, Oren.”
I looked away. “I don’t have to go to school.”
The crunch of horse hooves on the snow made me look up. Aidan was right in front of me. “What do you want?”
Shaking, I said, “I want to go to school, even though I’m scared, even though I’ll miss you.”
“I will miss you,” Aidan replied. “But I will be here waiting when you are done.”
“Truly?”
Aidan laughed, looking around at the snow-covered hills, the naked trees in the distance, and he smiled. “Where else would I go?”
I nodded. “I’ll come back, then, and help you.”
“Good.” Aidan looked over his shoulder. “We best hurry. Cethin is going to figure out I left him behind and come chasing me.”
“Will he be mad?” I yelled as we started galloping again.
Aidan flashed me a smirk over his shoulder. “Only in the best way before he shoves me into our bedroom.”
“I did not need to know that.”
He just laughed.
We entered the forest, and nerves plucked at me.
I was strung tight as I looked around. Not that long ago, I’d almost died in these woods.
I glanced at Aidan, but there wasn’t even an ounce of tension or fear in his frame.
Also, he wound through the forest with perfect ease, clearly knowing where he was going.
When we came to a stop, my breath stilled in my lungs and I swore my heart stuttered to a stop.
An arch made of twisted silver strands stood in the woods. On one side was the full moon, on the other the burning sun, and in the center of the arch was a blood-red seven-pointed star.
“Aidan,” I whispered.
The arch was filled with twisting shadows that had hundreds of pricks of light, like stars in the inky sky. Whispers as cold as ice washed over my skin, telling me that I didn’t belong here, to turn back, to run away.
Aidan touched the arch, and the star seemed to grow brighter. He faced me, and the grin he wore was more feral than I’d ever seen. He for one moment, looked to be the fae he truly was.
“Welcome to the Gate of the Realms.”