Chapter Twelve #2
I slowly sat up, holding his gaze. “Alisdair, I’m not saying this woman doesn’t deserve punishment. I say she doesn’t deserve death. Bradach said himself that she wasn’t in her right mind. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
“But that’s the point, my lady.” Bradach moved to Alisdair’s side.
“She will never be in her right mind again. This isn’t like your sickness.
I can’t shock her system and bring her back.
Once the change takes you completely, your true self is gone.
From this point on, every time she gives birth, she will abandon that child and kill another in the process.
You have to know that can’t be allowed to happen. ”
My throat was so tight, I choked swallowing. “Y-yes. Of course I know that, but it doesn’t have to be done this way. We could take them somewhere. Away. Where they can’t hurt each other or anyone else.”
“Prison,” Alisdair dropped bluntly. “Sheena was once a singer. Had the most beautiful voice in the five kingdoms, and dreamed of proving it—singing far and wide through Elva and beyond. Now she’s a feathery madwoman who shits herself and tries to kill infants.”
I flinched.
“So you tell me what she would want— No,” Alisdair said, bearing down on me. “Tell me what you’d want. To die as your true self, or to live out the rest of your days as an animal trapped in a cage?”
I dropped my gaze, fists shaking. Alisdair didn’t know the true question he was asking me.
What would I want if it was me, because it was me.
Would I rather live the rest of my life an angry, bitter, cruel, resentful princess with no love, no family, and no hope?
This body was my own prison, and would someone not be doing me a kindness if they sent me to the Meadows of Meya while I was still me, instead of letting Emiana kill me all on her own?
“Okay,” I said softly—evenly. “I understand why you do this. I even see why you believe it a kindness. The person Sheena was is gone. You want to protect the memory of the beautiful singer, instead of the infamy of the baby-killing fae-beast.”
My eyes narrowed. “But you need to hear this, Alisdair, and heed me well. You didn’t trade a bird off Salman.
You married me. A woman with her own mind and opinions.
I will challenge you, argue with you, and bite you when necessary.
If you have a problem with that, too bad.
I’m not going to change, so take me as I am, or leave me. ”
Hear that, Emiana. You will not take me.
Alisdair rocked back, observing me. What he was thinking, I couldn’t begin to guess. His expression gave nothing away.
“Hmm. Very well,” he replied. “I’ll take you.” Alisdair shrugged, a smirk overtaking him. “And, to be fair, I did bite you first. But you liked it when I did that.”
My skin flushed hot and sudden as the tightening in my lower belly. Of course he would bring that up in the middle of an argument while we have an audience!
“Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” he asked, shocking me. “I’ve found I like having your rump on my shoulder and within easy smacking distance.”
“Away with you, you beast!” I shrieked, lobbing a pillow at him.
Alisdair snagged my wrist and spun me, tossing me over his shoulder laughing.
If I laughed too, it was smothered by his cloak, so he couldn’t prove it.
That night, I lay next to him in bed, watching him sleep.
The beast couldn’t be held back in a dream. Every terrifying inch of him towered beside me. The claws, the fangs, the fur, the muzzle, and mishmash of every predator in creation thrown into one. All of the others were turning into animals while Alisdair turned into a monster.
“But you’re not one...”
All those weeks ago, Aeris shamed me for thinking I could get a man I didn’t even know to fall in love with me. Now I saw how right she was.
All the world saw of the man they dubbed Shadowsoul, was a fearsome, unrepentant king sitting back on his throne while the curse he created ripped through all of Elva—destroying our land and the fae living on it.
I’d never know the truth of how the curse began, and he’d never be able to tell me, but I understood now, that Alisdair wasn’t uncaring of the devastation he caused.
He ruled a kingdom of beasts with a clawed iron fist to maintain order in chaos.
He put down anyone who became a threat to the peaceful, happy people dancing in the square while their children giggled and skated on the frozen fountain.
And then, after he was done being an incorrigible ass, he sat down with me in private and listened to my ideas for how we could care for the people who were taken by the madness of the curse.
He didn’t agree with me, and we argued loudly, but he did listen, and by the end, he agreed to let me decide which cases were hopeless, and which we would relocate to somewhere private, enclosed, and safe where they couldn’t harm any else.
The man I was raised to hate wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to value my opinion, teach me to rule a kingdom as his equal, protect me from all threats, and care enough about my comfort, he held back his beast for me.
He also wasn’t supposed to have a wicked sense of humor, a love of reading, a brother he swore to his mother he’d protect, and the respect and love of his people.
Not cursed captives who slaved and were pining for freedom—but happy, equal people who pitied everyone outside of Wind and Wild, because we were many things, but happy and equal weren’t it.
He wasn’t a monster. The curse and his reputation tried to paint him as one, but he was just a man. A powerful, wicked, harsh, funny, sex-obsessed man, but still a man. A man that can know love.
A man that can be loved.
My heart thrummed a beat as I stroked the rough, hairy folds of his face.
I played the game and I lost. I see now that I was always meant to lose.
Even when Emiana took me over—the heartless, arrogant, nightmare of a woman—she fell prey to his charms. She giggled under his attention and heated at his touch.
She turned her nose at everyone and everything. .. except him.
Alisdair was always going to claim my heart. It’s why he laughed at me while I stood at the altar, swearing my eternal hatred and devotion to destroying his life. He knew even then, that we’d end up here.
I smiled tracing the shell of his foot-long ear. Alisdair grunted in his sleep, his ear twitching and swatting me away.
I giggled. “You may have known I’d fall eventually, but what you didn’t know is you will too.” Leaning in, I pressed the softest kiss on his snout.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Pushing up, I looked around the three-walled room until I landed on the door. I was up and out of bed before the thought fully crossed my mind. Quickly I dressed in the dark and slipped out.
I’d been hearing that heartbeat everywhere, and more and more every day. Was it madness? Was it Emiana? Or was it Alisdair? Was it his heart?
Slippered feet padded through the opulent castle, carrying me far away from our chambers, into the east wing.
I stepped lightly on the steps, clinging tight to the wall, but I didn’t spring any traps.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Dropping down, I hurried down the hall, carried along by a tug on my chest—driving me forward, pulling me faster, refusing to let go.
I found myself in that same hallway I found all those weeks ago, staring at a familiar wall. Moving forward, I placed my palms against the cool stone, following the lines and cracks down until—
My hand slipped through that break in the wall, and the rest of me followed.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The heart beat in time with my footsteps, carrying me up the stairs.
What was this place? I once mentioned it to Eadaoin, but she had no idea what I was talking about.
She had lived in this castle for fifty years; it was hard to believe she didn’t know every inch of it.
Was this place one of the secrets of the east wing?
And did it hold the one secret coveted by all of Elva?
I topped the final step, coming face-to-face with the simple oak door. I approached it like it could hurt me—the very doorknob coming to life and biting off my fingers for daring to touch it. But dare I did.
Closing on the knob, it turned and swung open, revealing the dark space beyond. The heartbeat was almost deafening in my ear—urging me on. Demanding it.
I stepped inside and hissed, clutching my robe tighter. It was worse than freezing. It was so cold, the air was living, physical knives stabbing my skin, chilling my lungs, and petrifying my bones. I nearly turned and left on the spot.
THUMP-THUMP!
“Where are you?” I blinked against the gloom, eyes adjusting. “Where is this?”
Fuzzy, undefined shapes rose in my vision. The tower wasn’t necessarily big or wide, but it appeared to be long. One long room with narrow walls and nary any furniture.
“What I wouldn’t give for my own magic,” I mumbled, inching farther inside. “A torch wouldn’t be unwelcome right now. Or the heat.”
I was a talent with fire magic when I was little. It occurred to me then that when the curse took me, I would be again.
Do I want the curse to take me? I made out strange, white rectangular shapes leaning against the wall. Reaching out, my fingers brushed cotton. Would getting my magic back be worth the cost of turning into a howler monkey?
Is that really the question haunting you right now? another voice asked. Isn’t the true one, what would you do if you find the heart?
I lit on something toward the back of the room. Padding closer, the temperature dropped another five degrees, then another five, then another ten.
My teeth chattered—breaths turning to ice for every exhale. Stumbling forward, a faint, pinkish glow began to take form—drawing me in.
A rose?