Chapter 17 #2
“We can’t leave it open, especially in the middle of the night.” Her words are laced with wariness, and although what she says makes sense, it does nothing to lift the anchor. If anything, it pushes it down farther.
“Now, if we’re done with the dramatics,” Sintharion comments on a long exhale, “right this way.”
Odeyssa tilts her head toward him, and I take that as my cue.
He begins ascending the staircase in front of us, its twin paths curving outward on either side in a sweeping arc.
Without pause, he takes the right. His steps are purposeful, as though he’s walked this path a hundred times.
I keep a steady distance between us, but Odeyssa decides to walk with me side by side.
Her actions pull at my heartstrings. She understands.
The railing is a lush shade of green—only the illuminating moonlight filtering in from the large circular window allows me to notice.
It’s smooth beneath my palm, like worn silk.
My hand glides along it as I climb, steadying myself on something that feels far too refined for a place this weathered.
Reaching the top, neither of them stop, continuing left and down a hallway lined with doors and branching staircases.
We reach the end of the hall, and I pray this is our last stop. I’ve been up for what seems like years and running for what seems like an eternity.
Sintharion knocks softly on the last door, and that tells me this is not our final stop.
“Enter,” a feminine voice sounds.
He turns the knob, Odeyssa following tight on his heels.
I stay on the other side of the threshold, my feet not willing to take another step.
Odeyssa turns to peer over her shoulder, confused why I’m not behind her.
Not wanting to alert Sin, she shoots me a silent, reassuring look.
Crescent moons indent my palms, my fingers pulsing with anxiety, the pressure only relieving the smallest amount of nausea.
I know I need to move, do something other than stand here like an idiot at the door.
But despite my internal battle with myself, my feet stay rooted in place.
If Sin turns around, I can only imagine what would come out of his mouth.
He’d probably assume I’m having another breakdown, categorize me as weak—assuming he hasn’t done that already.
He probably has. He most likely wrote me off with the reaction I had just trying to enter the damn castle.
I take a deep, calming breath, pushing my fingernails deeper into my palm as my body fights against me while I step one foot into the room, then the other, until my hesitant steps come to a halt behind Odeyssa.
The bedroom holds breathtaking elegance and greenery, like we’ve been transported into a rainforest. A woman appears from a doorway on the left, exiting what looks like an adjoining chamber, keeping her eyes solely focused on Sintharion—not paying Odeyssa or me any mind.
Her footsteps quiet against the soft, mossy floor, the smell of damp earth clinging to her as she moves.
Her beauty is otherworldly. Her hair is bound in braids, coming together at the top of her head, forming a crown.
It’s colored like the richest soil with hints of different shades of green and blue.
A smile full of pure surprise and happiness spreads over her face—clearly she wasn’t expecting him to be the one knocking so late into the night.
“Sin, to what do I owe this visit?” As she speaks, my head cants. That voice is vaguely familiar.
“Hello, mother. I apologize for the intrusion at this hour. But I ran into an old friend and thought a visit was needed,” he states, stepping to the side and showcasing both Odeyssa and me. The woman’s mouth drops in shock, and her eyes grow as wide as saucers.
“Oh my. Odeyssa, is that you?”
Odeyssa beams. “It’s been a long time, Queen.”
“It really has. You’ve grown up quite lovely.”
“Me? It looks like you haven’t aged a day!” she chirps.
“You are too kind.”
But then the queen’s gaze lands on me, and I can’t help but observe her more closely. The longer she stares, the more I can’t shake the feeling I’ve met her before.
“And you must be Kalliope.” My body freezes, paralyzed as the last syllable falls from her lips. Odeyssa’s body visibly goes rigid next to me, her body tensing just like mine. Sintharion lazily sweeps his eyes to look over at me, analyzing like he’s seeing me in a different light.
Voraxis must feel the anxiety coursing through me.
What’s wrong?
I—I don’t know yet.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.
I thought you would recognize me,” the queen adds, humor now lacing her tone.
She’s not wrong. Something about her is familiar, but I don’t know what.
“Maybe this will jog your memory.” With a flick of her arm, green smoke covers her form, and in an instant, a raven flaps its wings in her place.
It’s the same raven after that nightmare that left my room destroyed.
The one that rested on my windowsill and truly convinced me I had lost it because I was talking to a fucking bird.
It was her? What the hell is going on? Then, right before my eyes, her wing crosses over her, and the green smoke returns, and I expect the queen to be in her normal state, but once the green dissipates, I’m left speechless once again.
“Alex?”
It seems like a lifetime ago when I saw her running through the courtyard with my notebook. Or when I ran into her at the gym. Was it all a ploy to get close to me?
That’s what this whole damn thing has been. A game. My mind can’t comprehend what my eyes are seeing, and knowing that was her all this time is…unsettling.
“I’ve been awaiting your arrival.” That voice is the same as the out-of-breath girl chasing me down. In an instant, her human features vanish, replaced by the sharp, unmistakable elegance of her fae form, as if the shift never happened.
At this point, I don’t feel fazed. A little shocked, but overall, I’m just…numb. Detached from it all. Because at the end of the day, there’s no telling what new secrets are lurking around the corner, and I’ve learned to just roll with the punches.
“It’s Kallie,” is the only response I can muster.
“Kallie. Much more modern than Kalliope, don’t you think?”
“That’s one way to look at it, I guess.” My words come out muffled.
I’m tired. Exhausted from fighting the never-ending jungle of incessant vines reaching to tighten around my throat.
Maybe I should let them. Whatever fight or war I’ve found myself in the middle of, I don’t want it.
And yet, it seems, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get away.
Forever fated to be in some sort of supernatural battlefield.
“I’ve been wondering when you were going to come my way. However, I am surprised by the terms we are meeting,” she confesses.
“Who are you exactly?” I ask, bypassing her comment.
She lets out a lighthearted chuckle. “My apologies. I’m Aslan, Queen of Viaterra.”