Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
EMYR
I’ve only been home for a few hours, and someone is already scolding me. Not by my parents, who are upset at me for yet another disappearance. Not by my dearest friend, Tibalt, who has come to expect this from me. It’s not even from my betrothed, who has every right to be upset with me…
It’s Ophelia, a fae I’ve now kissed twice. Two times is all I need to memorize her soft lips against mine, and how sweet she sounds when she exhales, forcing herself to pull away. Two times is too many, yet it is not enough to satiate the gnawing hunger in my soul.
Five days away from her is five years, it’s five centuries, and though she leaves me alone, I know I can’t stay away for much longer. No shadows in my dreams can keep me from her. No looming curse may.
She’s the one I love, and the one I should have agreed to marry all along.
If only… if only…
A night of rest does nothing to cure me.
She’s still on my mind the next day. My soul still belongs to her.
This is love, a tearing at the base of my throat, begging to break free with words that belong to only her.
Ophelia has already liberated herself; she’s spoken so clearly, and I owe her more than I can give…
But I will give her more than I’ve been able to give anyone, in honesty.
In the morning, I write her a simple letter. It’s still not enough.
Meet me in the garden. You know where.
Midnight.
I must pen a letter to Minetta, too. She’s off with her family, and what an inconvenient time to be gone. No matter how long I sit at my desk, I can’t find the words.
It may not be meant to be done in a letter.
Dearest Princess Minetta,
We agreed to our betrothal too quickly. I cannot do this.
I am sorry.
I stare down at the etched ink and feel only dread. Unease. I’m precisely what her parents believe I am. Never good enough.
With a sigh, I scratch the letters in dark ink and throw the parchment into the fire. Perhaps I should speak with Ophelia first—a proper talk this time.
The curse has been heavier of late, but when midnight strikes, it feels lighter. Finally, I can speak my heart to Ophelia, and by the end, she will no longer be upset with me.
Perhaps… perhaps we can truly break the curse before my parents learn about how it’s worsening. I still haven’t told them, and I wish to avoid it for as long as possible.
I can already imagine their responses. No, I must take care of this on my own.
Rain pours on my head, drenching me to the bone and rendering my white shirt translucent. I don’t care. She’s all I care for. Her lavender wings light up the darkest of nights. My heart clenches as I step toward her, my hands balling into fists.
Hunger. One touch. That may be all I need to satiate it.
“You told me I must be the one to move to you,” I say, “so I am. I’m here.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” She lifts a brow. “Yet, you are unmoving. The letter you wrote me was quite vague.”
“I didn’t wish it to be intercepted—and you knew it was from me, did you not?”
“Of course. I would not expect an invitation from anyone else in this palace, nor outside of it.” She tilts her head to the side. “Or perhaps I hoped it was from you.”
I let out a shuddering breath. “Hope. The very thing you’ve awakened in me. I was born in a cursed land and life. For the first time in a century, I feel hope as well.”
“You give me too much credit, Your Highness. It would be silly to assume it was not you who wrote the letter.”
“Silly is not a word I would use to describe you.”
Her gaze falls. I touch her chin, forcing her face up.
Look at me with those lavender eyes. Please, witness me.
“Before you ask,” I murmur. Each word shakes past my lips.
I’ve never sounded more pathetic—but gods, I’ve never needed someone as I long for her.
“There are many flattering words I would use if one asked me to describe you, my little halfling. Striking would be one. The purple of your eyes and wings, glowing against your strawberry complexion, is one of the many reasons I love it when you lower your glamour. Your beauty struck me even when we first met, when you appeared as any mortal would, but it was nothing compared to how you look at me now.”
Her lips part. “I didn’t come here for flattery, Your Highness.”
“No. None of that. No titles, no decorum. To you, I am Emyr. I have always been Emyr.” My heart flutters.
“These words aren’t easy for me to say, so please believe me when I say I am falling in love with you.
You are the one who makes me believe true love may be true after all.
In our short time together, you’ve become more than the object of my affection.
You’ve become a dear friend and companion on this darkened journey.
I’ve run for so long, before the time we met, but I can’t run from you any longer. ”
“Oh, Emyr.” Her soft fingers clutch at my dampened shirt. “What about the prophecy?”
“I don’t care.” I laugh—exasperated and free after being trapped for so long. “Truly. I don’t. Running away is not an option, but perhaps it is with you, and perhaps we can flee to another palace—to Mercury or Venus, the palace of love.”
“We can’t do that.”
“I’m ready to beg and plead for you, my little halfling. I’ll get on my knees if I must. If the sorceress won’t listen, the fates and the gods must. With you, we’ll find a way to break the curse.”
“Emyr…” Her lower lip trembles. I long to capture it between my teeth, to make her mine and give myself in return.
“Yes.” Finally, I break the space between us, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Continue to whisper my name, and I’ll always be there. I could hear the word on your lips across the realms.”
“Yet you waited so long to return to me. Once again, I sound foolish—but days without you are centuries.”
“I won’t leave you again. I thought of you every moment.”
Her eyes contain a new sparkle. “And what did you think of?”
“How I adore you.” I gaze deeply into her eyes and pray to the gods that she may know what I say is true. Out of the many lies I’ve spoken in my lifetime, this is not one of them. I’m honest with her, for I can be, for she allows me to be. “That I need you.”
Her thumb brushes against my lips. “Did you ever wonder if I feel the same?”
“Yes…” I sigh softly. “But you kissed me, and that was my answer.”
“I wish to kiss you again.”
“Well…” I smirk. “If you insist.”
Before she can retort, I press my lips to hers, more certain than before. Her fingers curl into my hair and pull me in, tight enough to make me gasp, as her teeth drag along my lower lip.
I melt on the inside, readily giving myself to her.
She gasps. “Wait. There’s more we must discuss.”
“No. No more speaking.” I guide her through the maze of the garden, past barren hedges and trees.
She goes where I lead.
“We’ve spoken enough. It is time for action. Let me show you how I need you.”
“This is important, Emyr.”
I stop and force myself to meet her serious gaze. “What is it? What could possibly be more important than the mingling of our souls?”
I brush my thumb down the center of her lips, willing them to part for me.
“Listen, for just one moment.” Her fingers clutch my shirt tighter. “I was at the ball, Emyr. You saw me there. We spoke at great length, and we danced…”
I nearly flinch away. Another person I don’t remember claims to have danced with me at a ball. Why does this keep happening? I would have remembered Ophelia. She already left such a mark on me before the ball began, in that little tavern in Far Water.
“I didn’t…” My brows furrow, and I shake my head. “I don’t recall. I’m sorry, but I had a fair amount of drink—”
“No. You remember me.” There is tremendous pressure behind her words. “I know you remember. Please, look at me, and see through the magic of that night. See me.”
I close my eyes.
Those lavender wings and eyes. That strawberry hair. It had been before me, but just out of reach. The magic of the night, indeed…
How is it that I, a great magician, couldn’t see through the illusion of moon magic?
Ophelia. She was in my arms all night.
“It wasn’t Minetta?” I whisper. Blood rushes to my ears, ringing.
“No. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I never wished to be another person deceiving you, and I don’t know why I—”
It’s not Ophelia who needs to apologize. She didn’t do anything—or if she did, I’ve already forgiven her. Ophelia ran from me, and I ran from her in return, but Minetta…
“She tricked me,” I hiss. “It was her. You mustn’t apologize for her actions.”
She swallows. “Still, I’m sorry. I am.”
With a steady exhale, I press my forehead to hers. “It matters little that we should have been together all along. We’re here now.”
“We are.”
“No more wasting time.”
Her shoulders drop, and it’s as if her barriers go along with them. She opens up to me, leaning in. “No more.”
Her mouth seeks mine this time, and we tumble onto the grass, paying no mind to the rain. Warmth from my bones radiates, the sun’s energy, leaving us drenched in heat and water.
I was supposed to be betrothed to Ophelia all along.
Desire crashes and fully rouses what I’ve been pushing off all along. My want for her has been gentle and repressed, but as it fully awakens, it becomes a gripping need. She must feel proof of it pressed against her thigh.
Rather than pulling away or bringing us to a halt, she arches, taking my hand and leading it to her chest. Her nipple is hard beneath my thumb.
“May I…?” I whisper, lowering my head and looking at her through my lashes.
She nods.
I push down the top of her nightdress, revealing her pert breasts. Her thick thighs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, and I grind my arousal against her heat. I wrap my lips around her nipple and suck, groaning at the taste of her floral flesh.