Chapter 2
I’d know him anywhere. Broad shoulders, curly blond hair. He turns slightly and I catch sight of his wings. When we knew each other – when he loved me – they had blue tips and veins of silver like the other Leafborne fae whose magic can compel the element of water.
Now, they are pale. Grey and paper thin; more like a Shadowkind fae than a Leafborne. I can see the firelight through them as he moves.
I flex my fingers inside my gold gloves. Even though I know they will protect him from me, fear drips like ice water through my veins. What if I get too close?
In my head, I rehearse what I will say. “Evening Kayan... Hey, Kayan. Hi, Kayan, how are you?”
“Beautiful dress. Let me guess. Tonight, you will be changing into a peacock. Blues, purples, and golds. Strutting through the forest like a queen.”
A voice with a timbre like warm honey pulls my gaze away from Kayan.
It is a voice I do not recognise, and I instinctively take a step back. The owner of the voice smiles at me from beneath a deep blood-red mask. It covers his entire face. Everything except his eyes, which are so dark they look like nothing more than pools of ink amidst the blood.
Taller than me, the stranger moves to block my line of sight – as if he knows I am staring at Kayan and wants to distract me from him.
“A peacock? Is that what you think of me? A preening, strutting, princess?” I ask, folding my arms as my wings twitch with annoyance. But as I stare at him, the annoyance fades. Because it is not arrogance emanating in waves from his athletic frame – it is wanting.
He wants me.
Not in the way Rawk wants me.
He wants me in a way that is both pure and powerfully disarming at the same time.
It has been so long since I felt this way – and the strength of his lust is so sudden – I almost forget how to breathe.
As a glimmer of the person I once was stirs in my belly, I move closer to him and tilt my head, leaning into the sensation I’m starting to remember. “We have not even had a conversation, and already you are insulting me? Does that usually work for you?” A coy smile twitches on my lips.
The stranger’s eyes twinkle. Although I cannot see his lips, I know he is smiling because the air around him shimmers with pleasure as I speak.
He releases a low chuckle that sends a small hum of enjoyment to colour my cheeks. “I’d have to spend more time with you in order to answer that question,” he says, extending his hand to take mine.
I hesitate, then hold my breath in my chest and accept the gesture. Instead of shaking my hand, he kisses it, meeting my eyes as his mask brushes the fabric of my gloves. Despite the fact our skin is not touching, something inside me fizzes as I watch him looking up at me.
“May I ask your name?” He straightens, clasping his hands together behind his back as though he is a suitor and I am a princess.
I open my mouth to reply, but my voice snags in my throat. He should know my name, or at least he should think he knows my name. If the spell is working, I should appear to him as someone familiar. Someone he already knows.
Panic stiffens in my bones. If this stranger sees me for who I really am, perhaps the enchantments aren’t working. Perhaps I am about to be found out...
Except that cannot be so, because if the enchantments had dropped, I would have been noticed immediately and would already be on my way to exile in the shadowlands.
“Varia.” I take my mother’s name and try not to mind that the lie tastes like acid on my tongue. Why does it feel wrong to lie to this man? Why do I feel as though he already knows me even though the opposite is quite clearly true?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Varia.”
“And you?” I wait for him to give me his name but he does not. Instead he winks at me – winks at me – and saunters away in the direction of the bonfire.
“I will seek your company later,” he calls. “When the dancing begins.”
A little stunned, I tuck my hair behind my ear and exhale slowly. The juxtaposition of feeling suddenly seen and being reminded of the very reason I have been invisible for so long is hard to process.
Staring at Kayan does not help.
I’m about to draw myself away, follow the stream to the waterfall where the first dance will be starting, when he looks in my direction.
My breath falters, and a hand goes involuntarily to my stomach. Kayan smiles. He raises an arm and waves at me. I have no idea who he sees me as, but I wave back.
I am completely frozen. I cannot move. I search for the stranger who called me a peacock because perhaps he is nearby and will spot that I am uneasy. But he has disappeared.
“Rosalie...” Kayan puts a firm hand on my shoulder, then kisses my neck. The place just below my ear. A wave of contentment washes over me. But it is not my emotion; it is his.
My heart strains against the confines of my ribcage, and I swallow a knot of irony that tastes metallic in my mouth. They are together? He and Rosalie are together?
As he draws away from me, I can still feel the burn of his kiss. Like a tattoo on my skin, I fear it will remain there forever. “Kayan.” I smile and tuck myself into his embrace.
A firm hand runs down my back. Oh, how I remember his hands. “I wish I could change with you tonight,” he whispers, his forehead coming to rest against mine.
My body has stiffened beneath his touch. Memories are clawing to be noticed, but I do my best to ignore them and force myself to stroke his forearm in return. “I’ll be thinking of you.” I step back and look into his eyes.
For the first time in one hundred years, I stare into his beautiful eyes. But they are not the same as they were. The magic is gone. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
He frowns and tucks his index finger beneath my chin. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
There are so many things I want to say – things I was never allowed to say because he couldn’t bring himself to be anywhere near me after I broke him. But that would be selfish. So, instead, I shake my head, laugh, and say, “I’m sorry tonight is hard for you.”
Kayan’s smile falters. “I’m fine,” he says, a little stiffly.
“You’re strong.” I slip my hand into his.
He looks down, and I wonder whether he is seeing a version of Rosalie who wears golden gloves or if he sees her hands – long, lithe fingers, turquoise and gold rings, soft palms.
“You have survived so much.” I keep his gaze for as long as I can before forcing myself to look away. Over my shoulder, I pretend I have seen someone I need to speak to, then stroke his cheek one last time, tell him I will find him later, and hurry into the shadows beyond the bonfire.
From here, I watch, tears rolling down my cheeks and slicking the inside of my mask.
The rules of the enchantment are that the recipient of the spell should forget they have seen me – or the person they thought I was – as soon as I am out of sight. So, when the real Rosalie comes into view, skipping over to Kayan with her broad smile and her bouncy blond hair, he greets her as if for the first time.
Everything is working as I intended it to. He embraces her the way he embraced me a moment ago. He kisses her neck the way he kissed mine. Except, the real Rosalie does not react to him the way I did. She giggles, lightheartedly punches him on the arm, then flits into the air and circles him, flirting with every fibre of her slim blond body.
Kayan’s jaw twitches and he swallows forcefully. He cannot fly anymore. And, although I’m sure she means it in fun, to an outsider it looks almost as if she is taunting him with this knowledge.
Rosalie never did think about things the way I did; could never anticipate others’ emotions the way I can.
Eventually, as they start to embrace, I tear myself away, return to the stream, and follow it in the direction of the waterfall.
I have no idea why tonight, of all nights, it is this place I am drawn to. It holds so many memories that – for an entire century – I have avoided it. And yet, it is as beautiful now as it was then.
Shimmering in the moonlight, the pool is crystal clear, disturbed only by the water that cascades down the rocky face of the falls. As I approach, the mist catches the light and creates an ethereal veil between forest and falls.
I walk to the water’s edge and let my bare toes caress the smooth pebbles.
It all looks exactly the same. But so much is different.
I am so different.