Verena
“Blood…abides…crimson…return…”
When I open my eyes, the chanting of the broken mirror of truth disappears along with the rest of my nightmares.
Immediately, I know Eris isn't in this bed with me.
He would be touching me if he was.
I can tell my poor, gorgeous confidante has been touch-starved for a long time—but dear god, I enjoyed trying to help that insatiable man catch up. On my back, riding him, on all fours, bent over the edge of the bed with his sexy, rough moans against my back…
All those delicious cuddles and tender kisses in between.
I don't think I've ever been railed and romanced so thoroughly.
As Pound Town's most recent visitor, I'm not surprised that my body is deliciously sore as I roll over and sigh at the empty place he used to be.
I sit up, realizing by the light trying to peek through the drawn curtains that it's already well into the evening.
"How do you feel, Fairest?"
Eris is in the mirror again, watching me from where he stands leaned up against the border of the glass. Fighting a yawn and the familiar burning thirst torturing my stomach, I wrap one of the blankets around me and walk to the mirror.
"I feel like you could give the Energizer Bunny a run for his money."
Even as the only one who gets it, the joke falls flat for me.
I can't bring myself to smile when he's trapped in the mirror realm once more. I gaze into his opalescent eyes and place my hand against the mirror, wishing I could run my fingers through that beautiful, prismatic white hair again.
Eris can't seem to smile all the way, either, as he moves his own hand to mirror mine through the glass.
"If I could steal a kiss for every otherworldly reference you threw at me, I would ask you to spout even more nonsense," he muses, his gaze drifting to my lips.
I hate that he's in there.
So much that for a moment, I wonder if I can just…not find Cinderella tonight. I don't know if her magical benefactor would be able to help me, anyway—so what if I put it off and search for his body, instead?
But if I found it…then what?
Would I leave the moment we could finally touch again? Would I leave Wulf? Where do I draw the line for people who tempt me to stay in the wrong world?
What about Snow White and Merrick and the others who want me to stay?
I have to leave. I don't want to end up as the evil queen—and I don't want to find out what happens to me if that haunting mirror is proof that my soul is breaking the longer I'm here.
Eris studies me. "You don't have much time before the masquerade. Servants have already been by twice to try bringing food to the queen of Isenmere. Half of Aurefeld Castle's kitchen staff is a mess of nerves that Reinhilde will awake ravenously hungry and punish them all severely."
"Terrorizing kitchen staff is apparently what I do these days," I sigh.
"The other half believes the new rumors about your change of heart and insist you won't harm them," he goes on.
"They're not the only ones whispering about you.
Between your moment with the Pied Piper, your chat with Aurefeld's queen, your dance with the prince, and you running from the masquerade, you're actually quite a popular conversation topic this morning. "
"Stupendous," I sigh, dragging myself toward the wash basin.
I'm running late enough as it is, so I doubt I have time to send someone for a bath to be brought to my room. I would die for a long, hot shower to soothe my sore body after getting cracked like a glowstick all night, but the most thorough sponge bath of all time will just have to do for now.
I throw on a chemise and sit at the vanity to start styling my hair for the masquerade.
Tonight, I'll wear the second gown designed for me—a pure white wispfloss one with the most gorgeous bell sleeves and glistening silver accents. It's simpler than yesterday's, but so whimsical and flowing that I've been dying to run down a corridor in it and pretend I'm an ethereal princess.
Despite the lingering note of melancholy longing between us, including stolen glances and instances where we each touch the glass and sigh, Eris continues to update me on things while I get ready.
Anika, Ingrid, and Snow White are apparently all ready for the ball, chatting in one of the sitting rooms in this Isenmerian guest wing.
Wulf is fine in the barracks, but apparently he's demolished every knight who has tried to spar with him, so now they're all trying to get him to show them how warriors train in Nordhjem.
"I'm sure he loves that," I snort, grinning as I imagine the Huntsman glowering at anyone who approaches him.
He really doesn't seem to like most people. I wonder if he gets along with other bears.
"Aurefeld Castle has been frantic all day to finish preparing another guest wing for the king of Hamelnmark and all the guests he brought, since they will arrive from their long journey just before the masquerade.
Oh, and a little earlier, Prince Konrad told his parents he would be moving to Isenmere as soon as the masquerade is over," Eris adds, amused.
"Seriously? His confidence is fucking bulletproof," I groan. Dabbing on more red lip stain, I wonder again how the hell my lip looks so much better. It's like I never bit it at all. "That's it, tonight I'm going to introduce Konrad to his future wife and—"
I cut off when a dark, familiar tingle suddenly floods the air of this guest room.
Magic.
"Verena!" Eris is alarmed, pushing against the vanity glass as if trying to get out. "Leave. Go find Wulf. Behind you, there's—"
I whirl in my seat, wide-eyed as I see a thick, viscous shadow filling the empty corner of this room.
For a second, I'm frozen in terror at this sudden intrusion into a place I thought I was safe.
But then the shadows ripple, billowing away like smoke to reveal a tall, sleek, darkly dressed man.
No. Not a man.
A faerie.
Why else would he have those dark horns arching back from his head? Those massive wings covered in black, red-tipped feathers folded behind his back?
I immediately stumble out of my vanity chair, backing against the wall to try to get away from—
"Malivant," I exhale in disbelief, heart pounding painfully against my ribs.
I glimpse fangs when he speaks. "Use my name sparingly, mortal."
He's…not what I expected.
His complexion is a smoky, slate grey. In some ways I can tell he's not human at all, like the pointed ears, wings, horns, fangs—not to mention, I'm pretty sure his pupils are slitted, like a cat's. Although it's hard to tell for sure, since his irises are such a deep amber that…
Wait. Amber eyes.
That dark hair falling slightly over his brow. That sharp jaw.
My mouth falls open. "Oh, my god. I danced with you yesterday."
"Not well. You're abysmal at following a lead," the faerie scoffs, glancing around the room as if he's far from impressed.
When his gaze lands on the sex-mussed bed, I swear his cat-like pupils grow wider, but his nose wrinkles in disdain.
"I see you're becoming more like the real Reinhilde the longer you're in this world. You've certainly adopted her only hobby."
Anger at the comparison flares inside my veins, hot and sharp. What Eris and I shared last night is nothing like that nasty bitch's sex obsession with anyone she could rope into her unwilling Favored.
Eris is pissed off, too, glowering out of the mirror.
"So this is what the great Faerie of Wrath does when he's no longer captive? He sneaks into parties he's not invited to stir up contention and wrath for his own cheap amusement? How dare you invade Verena's privacy like this, you repulsive fucking—"
Malivant's gaze flicks to the vanity mirror. Eris cries out, bracing his hands against the glass in obvious agony.
Seeing my lonely Adonis in pain, my heart twists furiously.
"Stop!" I snap, grabbing the nearest object and throwing it at Wrath personified.
It turns out to be a comb, and it bounces off the wall embarrassingly far from the faerie.
When Malivant blinks at the fallen comb, it interrupts whatever he was doing to torment Eris.
Eris takes a shuddering breath, still grimacing.
"Are you all right?" I ask him quickly, not wanting him to be in pain ever again in that place where no one can help him.
He nods, but his jaw is still clenched as he glowers at the intruder. I glower at him, too, anger still burning hot in my chest.
Malivant looks back at me finally, his dark voice laced with disbelief and warning.
"You just threw a comb at a faerie."
"I was all out of grenades."
"You have dreadful survival instincts," he huffs. His wings fan open slightly before folding into two arches behind him again. "Be glad your fierce anger is respectable, or I might've decided to kill you just now."
Asshole.
I know I should bite my tongue and not mouth off to someone who curses kingdoms and fills helmets with blood, but I seriously fucking hate this guy. My temper is already on edge thanks to this goddamn thirst that never ends.
"At least it would get me out of this conversation," I snark, folding my arms over this thin underdress. "Why didn't I recognize your voice yesterday?"
"Don't be slow, it's exhausting. Magic, obviously."
He folds his own arms, and I can't help eyeing his hands. Where are the claws I felt before? Despite the wings, horns, ears, eyes, and so on, he still looks far more human than I anticipated.
"Why the hell did you dance with me?"
"Again, with the slowness. Does your mind retain nothing? You weren't mollified by my last gift, so I said I would find what you desire so that we can be done with this nonsense. Therefore, here."
Malivant snaps his fingers, and more shadows appear beside him. When these ones disperse, I choke at the sight of the Pied Piper standing there, wrists tied in front of him.
If the Pied Piper is shocked to be here, he takes it remarkably well. His asymmetrical gaze sweeps over the guest room before he spies me.
He blinks, then gives a little wave despite his bound wrists, one side of his mouth lifting.