42. Wait, What?
Ihated the sound of rain first thing in the morning. There was nothing worse than leaving the warmth of my bed and having to brave the dismal, English weather. How long until my alarm went off? Hopefully, the rain would stop before then…
With a grumble, I tried to curl deeper into the comfort of my bed, only… my body refused to move, and my bed wasn’t comfy at all.
I opened my eyes.
That wasn’t my bedroom ceiling. An expanse of grey rock stretched above me, and my breath hitched, my eyes widening. It wasn’t just grey. Grey was dull and drab, the colour of a city in the depths of winter. Grey skies, grey buildings, grey pavements, walked by grey-faced people on their way to dreary, grey jobs. This was different. This was beautiful.
I’d never seen so many shades of one colour, all marbled together in such a magnificent ripple. There were hues I’d never seen before. I’d never known such a spectrum existed. My phone would never be able to capture such detail.
Wait, my phone. Where was it? Where was I?
I shifted, propping myself on my elbows. A warm, green cloak fell away from my shoulders, but the bottom half wrapped around my legs like a burrito. Beneath the cloak, I was wearing black.
Gross.
The soft, oversized shirt was definitely not mine.
My head was too heavy for my neck, but I turned it, examining my surroundings. At least I wasn’t in some stranger’s bedroom, facing the walk of shame, but I was in a cave, which was arguably a worse hook up location than a sparsely furnished bachelor pad.
Sitting with his back to me, a shirtless man stared out over the dismal, grey clouds beyond the cave mouth. The tips of his pointed ears peeked out from beneath his inky black hair. Not a man. A male.
A friend.
“Idris?”
The muscles in his broad back bunched at the sound of my voice, and his despondent shoulders lifted slightly, but he didn’t look around. My gaze dropped to his lower back, where four deep but healing gashes slashed through his flesh. What had happened to him?
My brow bunched as I slogged through my sludgy brain, sifting for memories. I should remember this. I should remember how he’d been hurt, and why it made my guts tighten with shame.
My arms wobbled dangerously under my weight as I pushed myself to sitting. The cloak settled in my lap, and the black shirt–Idris’ shirt–gaped low over my chest. A strange, red mark unfurled between my breasts, an oddly beautiful, fern-like pattern, etched into my skin.
It was like nothing I’d ever seen before. Was it a tattoo? I probed it with a tentative finger. The slightly raised mark was tender, but not painful.
Weird. I couldn’t remember why, but I felt certain I should be in pain. Its absence only stirred the confusion already clouding my mind.
Dropping my hand, I peeled the cloak away from my lap. The faint scent of smoke wafted up my nose as I exposed my long, bare legs, and fell still. Those weren’t my legs. My legs had annoying little dimples peppering my thighs, not to mention an ugly scar on the inside of one ankle, courtesy of the surgeon who’d pinned my broken bones back together. These legs had neither. The skin was smooth and flawless, glowing with a dewy sheen, and the perfect toenails lacked the hot pink varnish I seemed to remember applying at some point.
No, they couldn’t belong to me. So why were they attached to my body?
“Idris?” I said again, a faint note of panic sneaking into my voice.
I didn’t give him a chance to reply before kicking free of his cloak and scrambling to my feet. I barely made it halfway to my full height before those stranger’s legs buckled, sending me crashing to the floor.
The impact jarred through me, but the crack of rock against flesh and bone was oddly painless. I’d barely hit the ground before Idris appeared before me, on his knees, his hands hovering over me but not touching. Since when had he been afraid to touch me?
“Are you hurt?” he asked, worry evident in his low tone.
I wasn’t, but that seemed like a tiny, irrelevant detail compared to the leg situation. I lifted my eyes to his, and though my heart stilled for a moment at the sight of that beautiful shade of yellowish-green, I asked, “What happened to me?”
A smooth mask erased the concern from his face, leaving it blank and impassive. I knew that face. Knew it was nothing but armour. Slowly, as though I was a dog primed to snap, Idris lowered his hands. I followed the motion.
The slashes across his back weren’t his only injuries. The red-raw skin covering his hands was twisted and pitted. Burnt.
Flames. Maelgwyn. Flames and brutal, flesh-melting agony.
With a tremulous breath, I dissolved into violent shivering. I remembered. The memory unfolded, replaying within me, every torturous second of it. I’d screamed before the end. I’d screamed, and nobody had come. Except…
Idris lifted his burnt hands again, gathering me to his chest and folding me in his steady, reassuring strength. I’d been alone. There’d been crowds and guards and even the human-hating king himself, all there with me, but I’d thought I was alone.
I’d been wrong. Someone had come for me. Someone had cared.
I wrapped my arms around the prince, clinging to him as though his uncle would appear and attempt to pry me away at any moment. Idris cradled the back of my head, his injured fingers sliding into my hair.
“I’m so sorry, Aliza,” he whispered. “Forgive me.”
Sorry for what? For saving my life? My weak, trembling limbs should be covered in third degree burns. I shouldn’t be here at all. I should be dead. The fact that I wasn’t, the fact that my skin was flawless and new, my scars erased…
I unhooked a trembling arm and lifted my hand to my ear. My fingers jittered as I brushed them over the new, pointed shell. Fae ears. My breath sawed in and out of clear, strong lungs. I was alive. I was fae. I was immortal.
I was never going home.
My face and heart crumpled in unison as unbidden tears spilled down my cheeks, but I ground my teeth together, fighting against the black wave of loss rising inside me.
“There was no other way,” Idris said, desperation leaking into his voice, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone.
He didn’t need to tell me. I’d suffered it. I knew better than anyone how beyond help I’d been.
I straightened, shifting away from him. He released me at once, and when I looked into his beautiful, stricken face, I forced my lips to twitch into a brief smile. “You came for me.”
Idris dropped his gaze to my wet cheeks. When he swept away my tears with gentle, sure sweeps of his thumbs, my eyes fluttered. He didn’t drop his hands, but cupped my face, holding our gazes steady.
“Where else would I be, if not with you?”
My breath died in my lungs at his words, as he leaned in close. My lips parted, anticipating another moment like the one we’d shared in the Fairy Glen, but he pressed his kiss to my forehead instead. The soft, tender touch lingered, and my eyes finally slipped shut as my flare of panic and grief faded into a sense of surety. A tranquil understanding. An acceptance.
I’d never go home, but this, here, this was right.
I wrapped my fingers gently around Idris’ wrist, leaning into his touch. When he straightened, when his hands fell away from my face, his fingers wound through mine. Our entwined hands rested between us.
“You need a hospital,” I observed. His burns, raw and shiny, were healing, but there was always the risk of infection. He should be in dressings, at the very least, though the formation of new skin suggested he’d narrowly avoided a skin graft, at least. This cave was probably riddled with bacteria, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d washed my hands.
I tried to extract my fingers from his, but he tightened his grip, refusing to allow it. “I’m fine,” he insisted gently. “I’ll be as good as new by morning.”
Morning? Impossible. I opened my mouth to argue, but he added, “I’m fae, remember? Most of my burns have already healed. My hands are taking longer because they got the worst of it, but I’m alright. I promise.”
My eyes flickered over the flawless skin of his face, and lower to his torso. I tried not to let my gaze linger on those scandalous muscles, choosing instead to focus on the cuts and slices peppering his body. They were undoubtedly healing, but if his burns had already given way to beautiful, fair skin, why had the cuts remained? “What about those?”
“Vampire venom,” he gave me a wry smirk, “hinders the process.”
My free hand shot to my neck as another memory slotted into place. My fingers found no evidence of the stinging puncture wounds.
“You have an advantage,” Idris said, but his tone suggested condolences rather than congratulations. He dropped his eyes to my chest, to the new mark that hadn’t been eradicated by budding immortality. “Does it hurt?”
I glanced down at the oddly beautiful mark. “No. What is it?”
His throat bobbed before he answered. “It’s a lightning scar.”
“A–what?”
“I was too late,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving the fern-like mark. “I used Rhodd Anfarwol, and you changed, you healed perfectly, but you were still…” Another gulp. “I had to strike you to bring you back.”
Did he mean a lightning strike? Had my heart stopped? I didn’t know much about lightning, but I did know that those little fronds of light that had charged my phone couldn’t possibly carry enough voltage to restart a human heart.
Not human anymore…
I shoved the thought away. What did it matter what I was, as long as I was alive?
But how? It wasn’t possible. Only Anwir could summon that sort of lightning power. It was why the witches had fought so hard to break the curse. Only he could fight the shades. Only the eldest prince…
A glittering rain of realisation settled over my skin, like stardust drifting from the sky as I stared at my prince.
When he’d charged my phone, Idris asked me not to tell anyone. To protect his image as the brooding prince, or to protect his image as the youngest prince? Now, he continued to study my scar, avoiding my gaze.
My fingers tightened around his. Hardly daring to voice my suspicions, I whispered, “You. You’re the king, aren’t you?”
Idris looked up at last. The confirmation was written in his wide, wary eyes even as he said, “No.”
“But…” I racked my brain, sifting through my early lessons. “But the witches said it was the eldest twin who had lightning magic.” Anwir had said he never used it, that it was too dangerous. He’d never shown me any evidence, but I’d accepted his story, because why wouldn’t I? I knew better now. I knew him to be a liar. I knew Idris could charge my phone and light up the dark with shimmering, electric light. What else could he do?
I touched a hand to the mark on my chest. My heart thudded beneath my fingertips, true and strong. Idris had struck me to save my life. Idris had the lightning. Idris was the king.
“Ever since I crossed the rift, I’ve been kept in the dark. I’ve been used and manipulated and lied to. You’re not like the others, Idris.” My bad-mannered, stand-offish prince had become one of the few people I trusted. The only person who’d helped me simply because he could. “Please, don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not the king,” he said, and my heart fell at his bare-faced lie. I knew. I knew I was right about this. The evidence was stacked in favour of my conclusion, and none of the alternatives made the slightest sense. “You’re correct, though. I am the eldest.”
I opened my mouth, primed to present my argument the moment it occurred to me, but Idris smiled sadly. “I abdicated, many years ago. Not formally, of course, because my father was still alive, but…”
“You swapped places with Anwir,” I supplied, and Idris nodded. “Why?”
His voice was bitter as he replied, “Because I watched my brother, younger by minutes, enjoy the freedom that I would never have. From the moment of my birth, I was a servant of the throne. I never asked for it, never wanted it. Did you know that an heir apparent cannot join a drift? It’s considered too dangerous, but I wanted to fly. I wanted the freedom to sleep under the stars and marry whomever I chose, rather than some prim young female with excellent bloodlines chosen for me.”
Something twisted into an ugly knot inside my chest at the thought of Idris choosing Jane, of him marrying her for love, but I willed my face to remain neutral as he continued his story.
“Anwir, on the other hand, loved life at court. He was as jealous of me as I was of him. We were barely twenty years old when we traded places. He cut his hair short like mine so nobody, not even our mother, could tell us apart, and kept it that way for decades. We made a deal never to use our magic, the last tell. I’ve broken the terms of that deal twice now. First, when I charged your phone, and then this morning.”
His eyes dropped to the scar again, his face paling. “They all saw me. They witnessed my power.”
He lapsed into silence, which stretched between us. Beyond the cave mouth, rain pounded against the rock. It was grim and dark out there. Not nighttime dark, but the blanket of thick grey clouds robbed the world of light. Where had this rain been when Maelgwyn had ordered the flames lit?
“You still don’t want to be king?” I asked at length.
He shook his head fervently, setting his hair swaying across his forehead. My spirits sapped slightly. Idris, quiet, kind, thoughtful Idris would make a better king than Anwir ever would. Not that it was any of my business. Or was it? Maelgwyn believed the throne had passed to me the moment I broke the curse. Could I abdicate, as Idris had, and if I did, who was next in line?
What did any of it mean for me? For… us?
Was it even true?
Maelgwyn wouldn’t have thrown me the lifeline of marriage if it wasn’t. My stomach churned. I would think about it later, when I had time to stew over every possible outcome. If there was one thing I had in abundance now, it was time.
“And did you announce your name when you swept in to save the day?”
“I… no?”
I smiled. “Then nobody saw you. They saw a prince, yes, but they think they saw Anwir. Maybe he’ll just have to cut his hair short again. He’s been lying for most of his life, I’m sure he can manage a few more. He can pretend he made me… immortal.”
Idris’ stared and stared. “How can you stand it?”
“Stand what?” My brow furrowed.
“You didn’t want this. You told me so yourself. You didn’t want to be immortal, or to be bound to me. You wanted to go home. I did this to you, so how can you sit here and think of ways to protect me?”
“You didn’t do this to me, Idris. Maelgwyn did. You saved my life. It seems to be becoming a habit.”
Finally, he smiled. A small, sad smile, but it was an improvement. Something purred to life in my chest, something glowing and warm, only to be extinguished a moment later. Was it any wonder he didn’t want to smile at me? I was a burden, always ending up in situations that forced him to risk his life for me. Now I’d gone one step further and gotten myself killed. He’d had no choice but to waste his precious, one-time gift of immortality on me, when it should have been treasured and saved, waiting for someone he could love. He hadn’t been able to use it on Jane or Taryn, but there would eventually be someone else worthy of his affection. I was under no illusions that one kiss was enough to secure that position for me. I’d cost him the chance to spend eternity with someone who made him happy. Now he was bound to me forever. I didn’t understand exactly what that meant, but I knew it couldn’t be a good thing. Tears burnt in my eyes again. I’d ruined everything.
“Idris.” I didn’t care that my voice wavered, only that he must despise the sound of it. “I didn’t want—”
“I know. I know, Aliza. I know you wanted to go home, but I couldn’t let you die like that. I couldn’t let this be the end. I don’t want it to be the end.” His gaze was pleading, begging me to understand. He’d mistaken my meaning, but his was clear. He blamed himself for this mess as much as I blamed myself. He didn’t hate me.
What would happen when he discovered the throne, which had been in his family for thousands of years, had abandoned his bloodline in favour of me? Would that be the end? Would he hate me then?
“It’s not,” I insisted, mostly for my own benefit. If I said it firmly enough, I might start believing it. “After they caught me, it was game over. I wasn’t seeing my parents or my friends again whatever happened. I am glad you gave me another chance at life. Obviously, I wish I could’ve gone home, even just one last time, but…” The tears that had threatened to resurface since I’d stemmed them finally spilled over, trailing down my cheeks as the truth walloped me straight in the chest. I would never see Mum and Dad again. I was dead to them. They would never have answers. They were forever out of my reach. “I wanted you to come. Even when they tied me to that pyre, I didn’t give up hope. When the flames started, I thought-I thought it was too late. I thought I was going to die. Compared to that, being young and beautiful forever isn’t so bad.”
“You forgive me, then? You don”t hate me?”
“Not even a little bit. There’s nothing to forgive, Idris.”
His shoulders sagged in evident relief. “We’ll find a way to make this work, I swear. I know you didn’t want to stay, but I’ll find you a home, if you don’t want to stay at Nairsgarth. I’ll get you anything you need. We’ll figure this out. And, Aliza…” He lowered his eyes, frowning at our entwined hands. “I know you didn’t want to be bound to anyone, but please, don’t worry. This bond, it doesn’t mean anything. We can ignore it.”
After all that had happened, this blossoming friendship, that kiss, dying and being reborn, losing my parents... the cold, sharp knife twisting in my gut cut deepest. Of course it didn’t mean anything. As if I’d think otherwise.
“Nothing at all,” I whispered, glad that he refused to look me in the eye. Glad that he wouldn’t see the new wave of unexpected tears welling there. “Everything”s going to be fine.”
His expression, though pained, softened slightly as he finally looked up. “You are the most relentlessly positive person I have ever met, do you know that? You deserved better than what happened to you.”
“Everybody deserves better than that,” I said, my skin icing over at the reminder. “Except maybe your uncle.”
That momentary softness faded into darkness. Pure fury rolled off Idris in palpable waves. “I swear to you, he will suffer worse. For everything he has done to you and Taryn, he will pay tenfold.”
I will hunt down your prince. There will be no mercy this time.
I couldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t have Idris anywhere near Maelgwyn, not when the laws preventing blood relatives from seizing the throne through violence no longer applied. Idris had abdicated, and the throne had chosen me. Maelgwyn knew it. Knew he was free to slaughter his nephews without the repercussions of some ancient law. But if the princes didn’t put a stop to him, who would? How many innocent people would suffer a fate worse than mine? I couldn’t allow that, either.
There could be only one possible outcome to this mess. Maelgwyn had to die.
My fingers tightened around Idris’, and despite myself, I reached for his other hand, too. He allowed me to take it without question or hesitation.
“Is this it, then?” I breathed, hardly daring to voice the words aloud. “Are we at war?”
Playing Anwir’s game had been easier when I had a home to go to afterwards. Now, whether I liked it or not, I was a resident of Neath. I was no longer a smiling, simpering mascot; I was the heir to an ancient, powerful throne that I didn’t want, but had little choice but to fight for. A throne guarded by a bloodthirsty monster.
This wasn’t supposed to be my life.
“You need not have any part in it. I can take you back to Nairsgarth. You’ll be safe there.”
Nowhere was safe, not anymore. It never had been; it had only ever been an illusion. I shook my head. “I’m the Human Queen, remember? You all need me.”
Idris’ eyes flickered over my face, his lips parting as he squeezed my hands. Was it my imagination, or did he lean in closer? He drew in a breath, as though he was about to say something.
I waited, the air trapped in my lungs, but instead of speaking, he rose to his feet, steadying me as he guided me to mine. My legs shook but took my weight. Idris’ shirt skimmed my thighs, covering everything, but leaving very little to the imagination. Not that he hadn’t seen it all before as I’d paraded around Nairsgarth in my little shorts.
“We do need you,” he agreed at last, “but you won’t be forced into anything. Your life is still your own, Aliza. You don’t owe any of us anything.”
“I want to help,” I insisted. I wanted to put a stop to Maelgwyn’s atrocities. I couldn’t let anyone else get hurt, or worse. There was even a tiny, foreign part of me that bayed for Maelgwyn’s blood. I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to me, to everyone else. That new part of me wanted cold, brutal revenge.
I didn’t voice that part. Idris wouldn’t judge me, but I did. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I wanted to be. If Maelgwyn died, it would be for the greater good, not for my own savage satisfaction.
As for the part of me that recoiled at the thought of staying behind while Idris went off to war, I didn’t voice that either. Didn’t dare let myself dwell on it, or what it might mean. I wanted to be wherever he was, whether it was a battlefield, or the sky, or even right here in this cave, high above the world. I wouldn’t even mind if he kissed me again. Not the chaste little forehead kiss, but the one that had turned my blood to bubbling, heady fairy wine and my brain to slush.
No, I wouldn’t dwell on that.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “Name it, and it will be done. But might I make a suggestion?”
His sombre tone, his earnest expression, had my eyes widening in mild panic. “I’m listening.”
“As enticing as that outfit is…” He cleared his throat, his eyes straying south. My ears, my new, pointy ears, began to heat. How typical that such an annoying trait had transferred into my new body. “Perhaps you should go home and collect some underwear, at the very least.”
My brain short circuited, snagging on the two entirely separate but equally shocking suggestions he’d crammed into such a short sentence. Underwear? Home?
“I–what did you say?”
The bastard smirked at me, his eyes creasing, utterly delighted with himself. “I said you need some underwear. Your clothes were destroyed in the fire, and though my shirt has never looked better, I didn’t have any suitable undergarments to lend you.”
“No, no, no. The other bit. Did you say–”
“Home.” His smirk softened into a smile. “I told you, I’ll give you anything you ask for. You’re fae now, and the human world is poison to us, so you can’t stay forever; a few days at most, but you told me you wanted to go home, and that is where you’ll go.”
So, Anwir had lied. No surprises there. Idris had taken me as far as the Fairy Glen, and I’d just assumed he could go no further, because his twin was a lying piece of shit. The sting of yet another deception faded into insignificance in the face of all the other emotions surging inside me.
I looked into his expectant eyes, slightly upturned, just like his twin’s, but somehow rarely smiling. I trusted him. Maybe it was the bond that meant nothing, fooling me. Maybe it was because he’d been the only one who’d tried to help me. Maybe it was because he’d given a piece of himself to save me, but I trusted him.
I was going home at last. After all these weeks, all this danger, I was going home.
I launched myself at Idris with a strangled sob, jumping to wrap my arms around his neck. He laughed, catching me around the waist without hesitation. Whenever I’d hugged him, there had always been a moment of resistance before he gave in and returned the gesture, but not this time. This time he held me tight, my feet dangling as he twirled me around. The cold, crisp scent of him filled my nose. A winter’s morning. A clear sky. Something deep within me calmed, soothed by Idris’ proximity. The bond? Did he feel the same? Would it demand he remain close to me until the end of time? The idea didn”t paralyse me with fear as it should have done. A small but growing selfish part of me wanted it to be the truth, even if the bond meant nothing. Even if it muddled my emotions. Bonded or not, he’d first and foremost been my friend.
“Thank you,” I sobbed breathlessly. “Thank you.”
There were no words in any language that could convey the enormity of everything he’d done for me. Thank you wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough.
Idris set me gently back on my feet. Though we broke apart, we didn’t let go. His hands remained on my waist, mine on his shoulders, as though the thought of parting was intolerable for either of us.
The prince gazed down at me with soft, shining eyes. “I’m glad you didn’t die, Aliza.”
Me too.
I smiled, not caring that my cheeks were stained with tears again. At least they were happy ones, for once. Maybe that happiness wouldn’t outlast the coming war. Maybe this new chance at life wouldn’t last, but for now, it existed. I existed, and so did Idris, and I couldn’t be anything but happy.
My chest rose as I drew in a deep breath. As it did, something caught my eye.
In the disarray of the hug, hair had spilled over my shoulder. Not pink, or lilac, or green, or blue.
Dark blonde.
I snatched a handful of it in my fist. A tug confirmed the dull locks were indeed attached to my own scalp. I lifted my eyes to Idris’.
“What the fuck did you do to my hair?”