16. Fractured Trust – Elias
Fractured Trust
ELIAS
As we ventured deeper into the forest, magic thickened the air around us.
After the kelpie attack, Rosemary fell silent, and I regretted my hesitation.
Hours passed as we trekked in quiet contemplation; the silence between us stretched like ivy between old stones—slow, creeping, and impossible to untangle without breaking something.
I couldn’t stamp down that inner fear that I’d felt as I’d stood before that kelpie, and now that fear churned with fury at allowing that threat to exist in the same realm as her.
The creature was a creation of the unseelie queen's, it could reveal our location if left alive. But Rosemary's kiss had melted my resolve.
She shows mercy to the very creatures sent to destroy her, I thought, watching her troubled expression. How can I deceive someone so pure-hearted?
"What's wrong with you?" she demanded, stepping carefully through the woods. "You've been sulking since we left the kelpie."
I couldn't give her an answer that wouldn't reveal too much. She was right, I did want that creature dead. It had hurt her, nearly killed her. But saying so would expose the depth of my feelings, and worse, hint at knowledge I shouldn't possess.
"Are you always this charming?" she asked, her voice teasing despite her obvious frustration.
"You have this way of making me murderous," I muttered, then immediately regretted the harsh tone. "I cannot seem to put that rage behind me so soon after your life was threatened."
The truth, but not the whole truth. I couldn't tell her that every threat to her felt like a dagger to my own heart, that watching her nearly drown had awakened something primal and possessive that terrified me.
"Is this about the kiss then?" she asked.
Even the forest seemed to hold its breath waiting for my response. I turned away, unable to look at her. "This is not about the kiss."
Liar, my conscience whispered. Everything is about that kiss. About how right it felt, how wrong this deception was becoming.
"We need to hurry," I said instead. "We need to get to the next available spot to find shelter for the night."
She looped her arm around mine as she sketched, and I stole glances at her work. Each drawing captured the flowers with near-perfect likeness, but I found myself studying her face instead, the way she bit her lip in concentration, how her brows drew together when she was thinking.
She's an artist, I realized. All these years, and I never knew she could draw.
When she put away her journal, her steps slowed. She picked up an acorn, studying it intently before letting it drop. Her fingertips traced the bark of trees we passed.
"Rosemary," I said softly. "Are you all right?"
She nodded curtly without meeting my eyes. "I'm just thinking."
I reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers trailing against her cheek. She flinched at my touch, and I quickly pulled away.
She's building walls, I realized with growing dread. Every deception, every half-truth, every moment I don't tell her who I really am, she feels it.
"I'm sorry about the kelpie," I said quietly after walking in silence for hours. "If there's anything you need to talk about..."
She shook her head stubbornly. Our silence stretched as we walked, and my mind wandered to thoughts of our past, of a future I was planning to destroy, of my resolve to give her more than I could offer.
We found shelter beneath a massive willow tree. When we stopped, Rosemary leaned against the trunk, tilting her head back to stare at the branches above. The small wrinkle between her brows revealed the war within her mind.
"Please talk to me," I said, not taking my eyes off her as I lowered my pack.
Finally, those brown eyes met mine, filled with hurt and confusion and something else, anger that boiled just beneath the surface.
"What?" she asked, her voice cold. "Do you really think I have nothing better to do than engage in conversations about feelings?"
She stomped toward the nearby lake. I followed, worried as night approached. I found her sitting by the shore, feet in the cool water.
"I just want to help," I whispered, my fingers twitching to tangle in her hair like I used to do.
"Well then, maybe you should realize you're not exactly helping," she hissed, turning her back to me.
"I know I've disappointed you," I said to her hunched shoulders.
When she spoke, her voice was quiet but steady. "You didn't have to try to kill it."
Understanding dawned. "Yes, I did. It tried to kill you. You may have no concern for your wellbeing, but I do."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
I leaned forward until our noses nearly touched. "It means, princess, that you care nothing for your own safety and put others before yourself. Always." A sudden thought occurred to me, and despite everything, I smirked. "I don't think the kelpie is why you're really upset."
Her cheeks reddened, confirming my suspicions.
"I think what you're really upset about are those dreams you had last night," I said, bringing my fingers to her hair, letting a piece curl around my finger. "The ones where you moaned my name. Several times."
She swatted my hand away, scoffing. "You wish."
"Oh, princess, I very much do wish, but sadly, I know wishes aren't in my future." Because I'm going to destroy any chance of a future with you.
She stood, grabbing her boots. "I'd rather have taken my chances with the kelpie. Why do you care anyway? You barely even know me."
But I do know you, I wanted to say. I've known you since we were children. I've loved you for over a century.
Instead, I said, "I care if it gets you killed."
"Why?" she demanded, hands on her hips.
"Because anything that harms you, harms me. Besides, part of our oath is for me to protect you." I pulled my gaze away, looking at the lake's surface. Because you're my mate, my heart, my everything.
"You know nothing about me," she said, that familiar wrinkle between her brows appearing. "You think you can just pop into my world, my life, and expect me to trust you? This..." She pointed between us. "...is us working toward a common goal. Nothing more."
Her words stung because they were partially true. I would never truly belong with her. She was perfect light, and I was gathering darkness. Still, I had a part to play.
"At least I don't lie about what I want," I countered, though the words tasted like ash. Hypocrite.
"Lie." She laughed bitterly. "You know nothing about me, or what I want."
I stepped closer until our bodies almost touched. The scent of her, vanilla and sunshine, consumed my senses. "I am someone who will not hesitate to take what is mine."
What is mine. The words carried more truth than she could know.
I brought my lips within an inch of hers. "I protect what is mine, princess."
I dropped her hand and headed back toward a nearby willow tree, her indignant breaths huffing behind me. "I am not yours," she argued, but even I could hear how weak those words sounded.
When she followed me to our shelter, where I was already rolling out my bedroll inside the hollowed trunk.
"Tell me more about your sister," I said, hoping to guide us back to safer ground.
Relief washed over her features as she knelt beside the opening. "She's been in a magically induced sleep for so long. I think most would have given up hope by now."
"But you never did," I replied, taking her bedroll and spreading it beside mine.
"I never did. She's the rightful heir to our—" She caught herself. "She's everything to me."
Their royal heritage, I noted, watching her careful words. She's starting to trust me, even as I prepare to betray that trust.
"That must be hard. Not knowing if she'll ever wake. Being alone all this time."
"It's like living with half a heart," she confessed.
I know that feeling, I thought. I've lived with half a heart for over a century.
"And yet, here you are. Still fighting for her. That's something to be admired."
We shared a look filled with unspoken words before she broke eye contact. As she combed her fingers through her hair, I was transfixed by the simple gesture.
"What about your brother's curse?" she asked.
"It's been so long. I'm not even sure what's become of him. I know time is running out though. I've seen that in my dreams." The half-truths came easier now.
"What's it like in the unseelie kingdom?"
Nostalgia pulled at me. I gave her the same answer I’d given her ages ago, the first time she’d asked me. "It's dangerous, but also wild and beautiful."
I waited for her to say she'd like to see it someday. The words never came. Instead, her face took on an odd expression before she pressed her lips together and pulled out her journal.
As she lost herself in her writing, my mind raced. The full moon was only days away. Briar's time was running short, and I was no closer to having Rosemary's love than when we'd started. If anything, her heart seemed more guarded than ever.
How can I make her love me when I'm already planning to betray her? The question haunted me as I watched her work by moonlight. And how can I leave her when the time comes?
The plan that had seemed so clear in the abstract was crumbling in the face of reality. Every moment with her made the thought of betrayal impossible, but also necessary. She deserved better than a cursed unseelie prince with blood on his hands and darkness in his heart.
Two more days, I reminded myself. Two more days to make her love me enough to break the curse, then I’ll leave so she can have the future he deserves. Without me in it.
But as I watched her sketch by firelight, her face peaceful in concentration, I wondered if I'd have the strength to follow through when the moment came.