Chapter Forty-Four
Asher
T here was a common turn of phrase in Betovere: “Our Ending will come, and we will be ready.”
It was said to understand that we would all know when we were called home to Eternity, that our Ending would feel right. I sometimes wondered about that as a youngling.
What about those that died suddenly? What about murder? War?
My parents had not been called to anything. Their lives had been stolen by demons with a cruel desire to do nothing but kill. At least, that was what I had believed then.
Death had a way of sneaking up on you. She was a cruel mistress with little time for pleasantries. Her motives began and ended with the desire to take and take until there was nothing left. Sometimes, she would bribe and barter, but in the end, the bitch would take.
“Hey, little brother. I brought you a piece of cake. It is not chocolate, but that is Ash’s fault. She said she has never tried red velvet, so I was forced to show her. I hope that is okay.” Bellamy slowly lowered the cake to the ground, setting it atop the grave.
On the stone, in stunning writing, read, “Luca Braviarte. Beloved son. Taken too soon, but never forgotten.”
Lian bent down, setting a single Salvia Splenden at the base of the headstone. Noe followed suit, placing a kiss and mug to the top. Cyprus offered a folded piece of paper, which he forced into the dirt. I still felt the ghost of the items we had taken to Winona and Pino in my hands, but I had nothing other than my presence to offer now.
The others continued to place gifts and speak over the stone, until I was the only one left. I walked forward, not fully sure what I should say at that moment. But I knew that I needed to try despite the discomfort of feeling as though I did not belong here, as though I were intruding.
“Thank you, Luca, for being one of the first strangers to express belief in me. I want you to know that I will fight for you, for what you wanted the world to be. Even if it kills me, I will craft something better. A place worthy of your sacrifice.” Then, in a far quieter voice, I leaned forward and spoke, “May you return to Eternity.”
***
Bellamy was convinced that gifts were necessary. The others had each given me a pin to represent them when I first got back from wherever it was Padon nested, the psycho. They were treasured and loved, each in my hair and pairing perfectly with my dress. Henry had also gifted me with my own set of throwing daggers, the shades of blue and silver a beautiful sight. Each had a different carving that matched my pins.
The prince, though, had not offered me a pin or a weapon. Instead, he said that he was saving his gift. I had not understood or even known about birthdays then, but now, I realized tonight was what he had been so adamant about holding off for.
After we portaled back to the celebration, which had thankfully been far more dedicated to Star Festival than me, we all dispersed. When I went to find Farai and Wrath, Bellamy stopped me, pulling me in to him.
I have something for you.
Over the last few months, he had gotten exceptionally talented at speaking to me through his mind, the shouted words so loud they were impossible to ignore. I beamed up at him, for once genuinely excited about whatever it was he had planned. Never had I been averse to being given gifts. Rather, I did not enjoy forcing everyone to celebrate me when I knew it would only afford me further hostility. Being given something special by a loved one was different. Gifts were personal and considerate—intimate. Not just romantically, but in a way that left you feeling loved, even in platonic situations. Bellamy, of course, left my heart racing and my mind swimming because anything he gave me was far more. He had this ability to pour love into everything he did, and I found myself addicted to the taste and feel and sound of it. Any form of affection he offered, I would take, because I was constantly hungry for my next fix of him.
Taking my hand, his scorching skin soothing and euphoric, Bellamy led us through the crowd. We both offered smiles and hellos for all that stopped to speak to us. There were moments when I felt creatures staring at me, an avalanche of thoughts tearing through my head as the collective group’s mental voices grew louder. Despite my desire to practice, I wanted to devote this moment to Bellamy. He was so rarely put first, and he deserved every second of my undivided attention that I could spare. So I shut those mental gates, noting that they were starting to take on a sort of brass hue. The gold, which once shone brighter than the sun, had lost its gleam.
Maybe this was what healing felt like.
After facing the crowd, we eventually made it to a secluded area where the mountainside caved in on itself slightly, the darkness there combated only by the gleam of the moon and stars above—which I found myself drawn to more and more these days. Dropping my hand, Bellamy fumbled around, sounding far more flustered than he normally did. Pacing my breaths, I attempted to remain calm, my nerves a menacing threat that left me fearful I might act foolish whenever he presented whatever it was.
Nearly a full minute passed before he located the item, which was small enough to be hidden away in his clenched fist. His breath fanned across my face, smelling of the sweet icing from my cake and his signature smokey cinnamon scent. I wanted to joke, to say he was taking forever or that I was experiencing secondhand embarrassment watching him open and close his mouth, but I could not bring myself to do it. Yes, serious moments like this were notorious for discomfort, but I thought then that I could manage it—would gladly suffer the awkward tension in order to have this perfect memory with him.
“Let me preface this by saying that I know how much you have been through, Asher. I cannot fathom what it was like to live the life you did, and I do not know if you have even processed all of it, let alone healed from the never-ending list of traumas. Before Pino…passed,” he choked out the words, blue eyes glowing and lips turned up in a sad smile, “I told him never to put you in gold. I believed it was the most important aspect of keeping you healthy because I thought you needed separation from that if there would ever be a chance for you to recover. While I do not know if I was right then, I think now you do not need to avoid it. You need to reclaim it.”
Dipping his head closer to mine, he lifted his hand, opening his fingers to reveal to me what was within. There, in his palm, sat a thin gold chain. Rubies were placed intermittently around it, the teardrop shapes dangling slightly. The clasp was two circles—one littered with diamonds so bright that they sparkled silver beneath the moon, the other boasting black gems that reflected the light from the diamonds. There was nothing but beauty there, and still, I felt my head growing too light, my breaths picking up at the thought of letting that gold touch my skin.
As always, he picked up on that inner turmoil, reaching for my hand and holding the jewelry away from me. Sometime during the last few seconds, I had begun to shake, my body succumbing to the panic the gold had brought on. Had I not just convinced myself I moved past this? That my mental gates had tarnished because I was healing? Why did the suggestion of the smallest bit of gold possibly touching my skin send me spiraling down into that darkness I had so desperately fought back against?
“I believe in you, Ash. Even if you choose not to take this, I will still have faith in your greatness. Your worth is not contingent on how fast you heal, and your strength is not determined by how unfeeling you are. There is more to life than existing for the will of others. So, if you want, we can throw this off the side of the mountain or into the Sea of Akiva. It is your gift and your choice.” A nervous and reassuring smile formed on his face, his hand letting mine go to cup my cheek and jaw.
I nodded, leaning in to his hand and looking down at the gold. It was just metal. It was just a color. But, somehow, it was also a mountain of painful memories that had formed in my heart, golden and immoveable. If I wore that, would I be submitting once more to the will of Mia and Xavier—even if only somewhat?
“I—I am afraid.” No, I was terrified .
“I know it is scary, Ash. More than that, even. I know I will never understand what it is like to be placed in a golden prison and told to be thankful. But the gold was never your captor, the fae royals were. Do not let them steal more from you. Do not allow them the satisfaction of controlling you in this way.” His voice was drenched in determined sincerity, body rigid with tension as he once more held up the bracelet.
Maybe it was the logic of his words or my own desire to be more than a weak little princess. Perhaps it was simply him. Whatever the reason might have been, I found myself nodding, lifting up my arm for him. His answering smile could only be described as the sun itself. Bright and beautiful and warm—perfection incarnate.
But, instead of grabbing my wrist, he placed a bruising kiss to my mouth and then kneeled. I watched him slowly slide down my body, smirking up at me as he went.
“What, Princess, do you not trust me?” he whispered, letting his fingers drag down my legs.
I hummed in response, unable to do anything but bask in the feel of his hands on me. A finger looped through the red strap that connected to my sandal, using it to tug my foot upwards. I grabbed onto his shoulders to maintain my balance, my eyes darting down to watch as he clasped the jewelry around my ankle instead of my wrist. When he finished, he placed a kiss to the two circles.
“Our story began with a gilded princess and a bloody prince, but it ends like this, Ash. A queen of stars and a king of night, joining to secure the future. We are the clasp that holds this tale together.” He paused, the air growing thick as he released my foot, with my gift now secured to my ankle. When he looked up at me once more, his face held all the love of a million hearts—stronger than any written before. “You are everything. The beginning and the end and—”
“Every moment in between,” I finished, tugging him upwards and reuniting our mouths once more. Here in his arms, beneath his touch, against his lips—here I was home. Here I was whole.
So, I consumed him, devoured every offering I was presented. I ravished him with my mouth, my hands, my body. Our moans filled the air as he pushed me against the mountain behind us, a small giggle leaving my lips at the memory of another rocky wall he had once pressed me into. As if he understood, Bellamy’s own chuckles sounded, mixing with the lust and the love—telling our story to the world around us.
Just as his hand slid between my legs, neither of us quite caring that there were others just around the corner and out of the darkness, an eerie and all-too-familiar voice cut in.
“Surely you have some modicum of shame, princeling.” Wrath was quite unimpressed by our public display, sitting mere feet away with a bored and slightly disgusted look on his face.
Bellamy groaned against my mouth, squeezing my thigh before backing away. “I hope you know that we all loathe you, cat.”
“Hey!” I smacked Bellamy’s arm, glaring up at his smug face. “I do not hate him!”
“I think he is quite funny.” Farai’s voice came from around the corner, amusement filling his tone. “You are not naked, are you, Ash?”
I groaned, embarrassed and far less than satisfied. Though maybe that was for the best. Public sex was probably universally frowned upon. Patting Bellamy on the cheek, I pushed away and bent down to scratch beneath Wrath’s chin. He purred, his current size that of a large dog. “You are a little shit, and I love you.”
Bellamy sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss to my forehead and flicking a still-purring Wrath on the nose. He earned a horrifying growl, which only left him laughing as he patted Farai on the shoulder and left us. For his part, Farai looked at me with a knowing and devious look in his eyes. One that reminded me of who we had been before our lives were turned upside down. In moments like this, I missed those versions of us.
“Well, seeing as I successfully ruined the prince’s mood, I think I will go find something sweet to eat as a reward.” I watched on as Wrath allowed himself to shrink down to the size of a house cat, knowing that he used this version of himself to pull on the heartstrings of unsuspecting mortals and demons alike. “You look beautiful, Strange One.”
Before I could say something kind back, Wrath darted away, leaving me grinning fondly at the place he had left. Farai came up to me, grabbing both of my cheeks and looking into my eyes. The whites of his irises bore into me, as if, like Jasper, he could see whatever aura radiated from me now.
“Ash, are you okay? Truly?” While Farai had always been the least serious of our friend group, there was a paternal tone to his voice just then, like a father checking in on his daughter. And it was those loving and concerned words that left me unable to do anything but wrap my arms around his neck and breathe him in. As always, he smelled of the woods on a warm summer day, and I relished in it. I knew that one day, when our family was whole and our world was safe, I would be able to tell him the truth. Jasper and Nicola were gone though, and without them, I could not break. So I lifted my hand, cupping Faria’s face just as he did mine, and I smiled.
“I am good. How are you?” I felt the flinch beneath my fingertips at the same time I saw it, his face contorting in a brief show of pain. “Tomorrow, we will discuss our next move. We will find Nicola and Jasper, and we will bring them here. They will be safe, Fair.”
With a nod, he breathed deeply and leaned down to offer a soft kiss to my head. When he backed away again, he was sporting one of his enchanting smiles, those full lips rising to crinkle his nearly glowing eyes. Though I knew he was not okay, that he was hiding behind the mask of his former self, my own smile still lifted my cheeks.
Time was the most precious currency—the one thing no one could get back, no matter how wealthy or beautiful or important they were. Still, I would give him that, no matter how much I lost in the process. Farai would have as much time as he needed.
Outstretching his hand, he winked, those shoulders once more straight despite the sorrow and fear his mind radiated. “Will you dance with me, old friend?”
Laughing, I nodded back, taking his hand and allowing him to lead us to the dance floor. We were a sight to behold if those in attendance were to be believed. They stared on with open mouths and wide eyes, tracking our every movement. Farai—ever the attention seeker—lifted his chin to the sky, pulled me closer, and began.
Our first full rotation around the training yard was dedicated to Farai showing off. He lifted me in the air and dipped me to the ground and spun me until I was dizzy. I smiled like a fool the whole time, except for when we passed Henry. Resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him was utterly impossible.
My turn next, little brat.
Nodding at Henry as we passed, I let out an embarrassing squeal when Farai lifted me above his head before letting me drop, catching me inches above the ground.
It was the second round that brought me back in time, though. First, the Shifter chose an elephant, morphing his nose into a long trunk and stretching his ears until they flopped outwards. The crowd let out a collective gasp, but I could not help letting out a snort and tilting my head back in laughter. We continued that way, dancing as he changed before my eyes.
When the song was over, he allowed his face to fade back, dipping his head to whisper in my ear, “What do you say, think they earned a grand finale?”
Not allowing me the chance to answer, he spun me one last time, my body twirling away from his. I stilled just in time to watch him spread his arms wide, morphing them into long black and white wings. His legs bent, forming a half squat, and then he launched himself up and back, flipping midair. He did not land; instead, his body shrunk and transformed, a stunning black and white eagle appearing where he once had been. The crowd remained silent, staring in awe as Farai took flight above us. Smiling, I shoved open my mental gates, letting my magic burrow into every mind in attendance and ordering them to dance—to laugh and have fun.
By the time shouts of excitement filled the space, I was walking away, searching for my pumpkin. He stood beside Damon and two females—one of them I almost immediately recognized. Her long black hair was loose, that dark and glowing skin nearly matching it.
“Lara,” I said, nodding to her and trying my luck at a smile.
She stared at me like I was mad, or perhaps that was her way of assessing my will to live so that she could figure out how much effort it would take to convince me to jump off the nearest cliffside.
“You are less angry than before. That hope will only disappoint you.” That voice was still melodic and high, the opposite of her attitude—just as her periwinkle gown was, the dress tightly fitting to her body and dragging behind her.
“Charming as ever.” I regretted the slight when she let her piercing blue eyes stray to the ground, and I found myself offering my hand to shake. Lara looked at it, touched my palm with one finger, and then proceeded to shamelessly stare at me in contemplation. “Good to see you again, bubbles.”
Turning to face the other female, I noted that she had the exact same russet skin and deep hazel eyes as Cyprus. Even her hair, which barely passed her chin, was the soft brown of his. “You must be Ray. Cyprus has told me so much about you.”
“Yes, I am. Wow, I cannot believe I am talking to you right now. You know, Lara and I planted a whole patch of vanilla in her garden just for you. I think you will really like it. I am also great at decorating! I can get you your own room if you would like space from Prince—I mean General—Bellamy. Not that he is not good to be around, which he is—not that I desire to be with him. I am very much so not interested. Of course, he is quite handsome, not that I look at him that way. You are handsome, too. I mean, beautiful. Not that I look at you that way. I do not mean to sexualize you both. I just mean that sometimes it can be nice to have space, or I can find you two a bigger room?”
Did she breathe? Ever?
“Ray, stop, you do not have to worry about offending me. Please, breathe.” I laughed, watching as she bent forward and let her hands rest on her knees as she gasped for air. Her outfit consisted of brown trousers that fit tightly around her waist but slowly flared out as they went down, a thicker material than casual wear but also not nearly as thick as the fighting leathers Bellamy’s Trusted favored. On her upper half, she wore a white top made of what looked almost like yarn, the string braided together in multiple rows, wrapping around her upper body and sporting no sleeves or straps.
“Would you care to dance, Asher? Perhaps give Ray a break from panic attacks for a bit?” Damon’s voice was gentle as always, his outstretched hand calling attention to the navy silk top he wore which fit perfectly to his toned chest. Was it bad that I compared everyone to Bellamy? That my eyes and mind seemed to agree that no one would ever compare?
“Hey, now,” Henry interjected, smacking Damon’s hand away from me and quickly grabbing me by the shoulders. “I called dibs. Wait your turn.”
Damon laughed, saluting as Henry guided me to the center of the dance floor. I joined in, feeling so blissful and free and, for once, calm. Henry took my hand, placing it on his shoulder before gripping my other one tightly and beginning our dance. Like most things, he was excellent at it, taking a much more technical approach than Farai had.
“My mother likes you, which possibly means that my fear of world domination held more merit than even I thought.” His eyes strayed to his left, and I found my own following, catching sight of Odilia. She loomed near a table with various beverages, her gaze unabashedly glued to us as we wove through the other dancing couples. Leaning closer, he whispered, “If she did not desire a strong queen, then she likely would have forced me to court you by any means necessary.”
“Ah, well, unfortunately for Lady Odilia, I am quite picky. I fear I could not get past the orange hair.” Together, we laughed conspiratorially, our dance skills so evenly matched that I lost count of how many songs passed before Bellamy was there, catching me at the tail end of a rather dramatic spin. Henry released me, allowing Bellamy to wrap me in his arms and utilize the momentum to maintain time with the beat.
“It has been too long since we danced, Princess.” He purred the words through a dashing smirk, all the pride of a cocky prince upon his face.
Unlike his friends, Bellamy’s presence against me left my mind spinning right along with my body. The press of his hand on my waist, a position choice far more respectful than I would have expected, was like a current. It dragged my heart and my mind away from the present, carrying me towards the image of a future I longed for. Every slight graze of my chest against his stomach was a ballad, the keys of the piano pressing down to craft a song all our own. One that would exist forever in the ethers, among the stars as they danced along.
“It has, Prince.” It was the only response I could muster, but I knew by the softening of his eyes that he understood what my gravelly voice meant. Once again, it was like he had magic of the mind, rather than me.
“I love you, Asher.”
“And I love you, Bellamy.”
Henry’s bright hair came into view again, and for some reason, my eyes felt the urgent need to look his way. I watched as he jolted forward, nearly knocking over a table, as if someone had struck him. With a gasp, he looked up at us, mouthing two words before he disappeared in rays of light.
Section five.
Bellamy pulled me tighter to him, and then we portaled too, arriving in a sort of meadow. The green grass and vibrant yellow flowers were made dull in the night, giving the entire scene an eerie quality. But it was not the darkness that I feared in that moment.
Henry stood a few feet away, holding out his palm with light seeping from him. For a moment, I stared on, confused at his display of magic. Then, from the thick stream of light, Genevieve appeared.
Silence threatened to reign over us, a firm dictator prepared to steal our voices for all of eternity. But the mortal princess fought bravely against it, stuttering out a string of sentences that would drop the shoe I had been grimly waiting for.
“My parents, they—they were too scared to take your offer. I—I came to—to warn you. The fae know where you are. They know, and they are coming. Please understand I did not mean for this to happen. I just wanted my brother back!”
Henry grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her slightly. “Where are they coming to? Pike? Haven? How many are they bringing?”
His panicked questions seemed to slam into Genevieve, like it pained her to hear them. She flinched with each syllable, her eyes shut tightly.
“Of course they know where we are. Malcolm would be aware of where nearly everything is. Not much has changed in the last three hundred years. Why now? What would your parents’ information truly tell them?” Bellamy’s questions were rhetorical, his words mostly spoken to himself as he thought out loud in a slightly rattled voice.
When Genevieve looked to me, desperation forming tears in her soft brown eyes, I realized it was not necessarily us in danger. I knew how Xavier thought, the ways in which he plotted and planned. He was smart, strategic, and strong. If he could hurt us indirectly, plant seeds of doubt and tear us apart from within, then he would.
“They are going to attack a mortal kingdom who sided with us. That is why they needed to know where we were. They wanted us to be away so the mortals would be unprotected.” Matter of fact. That was how my words sounded. Because I knew I was right, and as Genevieve nodded solemnly, I felt how true my next words were, too. “Behman. They are going for Behman.”