Chapter 21
She had made a terrible mistake.
And it wasn’t like she could claim innocence. She’d known it was a mistake the moment she offered Xavi the seat beside her.
Because something had changed between them from the instant he’d appeared not as a gryphon or a kitten or an intimidating night elf warrior… but as a man.
She supposed she could blame her preoccupation with the legend of the King of Mists. Because any normal girl would probably have noticed long before now that Xaviel ven Arazul was staggeringly attractive. Gorgeous, powerful, brooding, protective… everything women supposedly wanted in a man.
But Xaviel was also the least available male she’d ever met. Not only was his life as far removed from her ordinary existence as a king’s from a scullery maid’s, he was an immortal warrior tied to a fae enchantment. Oath-bound to a cursed king he’d sworn to free.
Romantic? Of course, but in a way that one swooned over in stories without really wanting it for oneself.
At least, Ryn had never personally longed for that sort of man.
She wanted a man who understood her. Who would sit beside her in peace and comfort, enjoying the small things like a good book and a perfect cup of tea.
A man who never made her feel foolish or small.
Who loved her for her mind, not in spite of it, and did not disdain her love of myths and legends.
And she’d been content to let Xavi remain one of those legends. But at some point, he’d become more real to her than any story. She’d experienced his pain, seen past the caricature he’d made of himself, and found the man beneath it—clinging desperately to a hope that was all but gone.
She might yet have managed to view him with nothing more than compassion, but then he’d gone and turned himself into a human, and her foolish heart suddenly woke up and took notice.
Not because he was a different person. He was still prickly, quick to violence, honorable, practical, and extremely capable.
She had no doubt that if it did come to a bar fight, he would wipe the floor with everyone in the room and somehow manage to look bored.
He was the same powerful, immortal warrior—tragic collateral in a story that wasn’t even his.
But in this form, he was no longer some unattainable ideal.
He was still tall and broad at the shoulders, with a trim build and a firm jawline.
No longer otherworldly in his beauty, but still attractive all the same.
Still him, even if his ears were no longer pointed, and his hair was long and dark instead of silver.
It was pulled back away from his face, revealing those same dark eyes with a hint of red.
The same lips, hiding teeth that she knew would not actually be pointed, but looked as if they could be.
And now she’d been staring for far too long, and it was about to become awkward if she didn’t say something normal.
Oh, who was she kidding? She had no gift for making normal conversation in ordinary circumstances, let alone when she was sitting close enough to Xavi that his arm brushed against hers every time he shifted in his seat.
“You have grown very quiet.”
Drat, he’d noticed.
“What are you thinking about?”
Ryn searched frantically for a change of subject so she didn’t accidentally reveal her actual thoughts and drop dead of embarrassment.
And as it happened, there were plenty of burning questions lurking right there, waiting to be asked.
“I think that fae was hiding something,” she blurted out.
“Of course she was hiding something. But what in particular?”
“There were a lot of questions she didn’t answer. Like what became of all the other brides, or how she ended up trapped by her own curse.”
Xavi’s head tilted thoughtfully. “Not to mention that cursing Kel for his hubris makes no sense. He is genuinely the least prideful person I have ever known, and would offer help to anyone who asked. I cannot understand why he would have refused unless…”
“She asked for something he wasn’t willing to give,” Ryn supplied grimly. “Something dark or evil.”
She shivered, remembering the fae woman’s eyes. Her face had been that of a simple old woman, but none of her expressions had touched that dark and fathomless gaze.
“And when he refused, she cursed him,” Xavi continued. “And stole our memories. Continues to steal them. Otherwise, how could I have forgotten…”
Pain and regret resonated from every word, and Ryn tilted her chin to look up at him. He was close enough to see every emotion that churned in the depths of his strange, wine-dark eyes.
“The memories of your past seem to come back from time to time,” she noted. “Perhaps together you and Kel can recall them. Reconstruct the pieces of what was lost.”
Xavi only seemed to flinch away from her. “It is not the memories of my past life that haunt me.”
Oh.
“You’re wondering how there were so many brides,” she said softly. “The legend says one every hundred years, but no one knows how long you’ve actually been cursed. And if the fae has been stealing your memories…”
It would be very, very difficult to find an answer.
His gaze seemed fixed on the scarred tabletop.
“I convinced myself that it was a necessity. To prevent the volcano from burying dozens of night elf settlements beneath a deluge of fire and ash. I even told myself that when the brides vanished, they were simply deemed unsuitable and returned to wherever they came from. But I can no longer avoid the truth of my own blood debt. So many lives…” His eyes shut, his head fell back, and his nostrils flared. “And I can recall none of them.”
“We don’t actually know what happened yet,” Ryn argued, feeling rather desperate to comfort him.
“And even if we did… Xavi, this is not your doing. Your memories and your free will were stolen from you. The curse has forced you to do unspeakable things, but the one who must answer for those is the one who placed the curse. One who I strongly believe is not nearly so innocent as she tried to appear.”
“No, she is not innocent,” Xavi said quietly. “But neither am I.”
And because Ryn was not a priest or even a very good friend, she wasn’t sure how to make him feel better, other than uttering bloodthirsty promises she had no idea how to keep.
“We have to figure out what that enchantress wanted from Kel,” she said instead. “What did she ask him for that he refused to give her? Because I don’t think she’s given up. She designed this curse to teach him a lesson, so when it’s broken, I believe she’s going to ask him again.”
And if she was powerful enough to curse him in the first place, what was to stop her from simply cursing them all a second time?
“She said that Kel ‘cast her aside,’” Xavi murmured, his voice taking on a hint of the fae’s ancient, creaking tones.
“That she wanted him to learn humility and respect, and to see the value of the overlooked. He would be free once he learned the foolishness of denying her request and corrected his arrogance.”
“Hah,” Ryn muttered, folding her arms and letting out an annoyed huff. “She might have been trying to hide her intentions, but this is definitely not one of those stories with a benevolent magical benefactor—testing a person’s goodness and handing out gifts to the wise. This is the other kind.”
Xavi sighed. “You do know that not everything is a story,” he reminded her dryly. “But I must admit you have been right more often than not, so… What kind of story do you believe us to be in?”
“The kind with powerful beings who toy with mortals for their own amusement,” she replied promptly.
“Look at everything she wanted from Kel. She was offended that he didn’t respect her power.
Angry that he dared to refuse her. She doesn’t care if he’s a good person—she just wants to have him under her boot. ”
“But then why a bride? Why steal our memories? And why was she trapped by her own magic?”
“Those,” Ryn answered fiercely, “are exactly the things she refused to tell us, which means they’re the things we most need to figure out.
But I don’t know how to do that if the curse keeps yanking us from place to place with no discernible pattern or purpose.
Or if it has decided to leave us here for some reason. ”
“We can always make our way back,” Xavi returned with a shrug, looking utterly unconcerned. “Perhaps once we return to the valley, the trials will resume.”
“Make our way back?” Ryn repeated. “Do you have any idea how far that is? It took me months to get there.”
He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Yes, but you were not able to fly.”
Oh. She felt herself flush with embarrassment. Of course.
“Right. I forgot.” Flying wasn’t exactly a natural thing for her to have taken into account.
Especially when her inconvenient attraction to the man sitting next to her had temporarily allowed her to forget who and what he was.
Thankfully for her composure, their food arrived and was placed on the table with an emphatic thump by a harried-looking man in an apron, who promptly scurried off again.
Xavi stared at the plate in front of him. “Are you certain this is food? For people?”
Ryn chuckled. “I didn’t say it would be good. I said it would be plentiful and cheap. And I suppose if you don’t like it, you can always go fishing later.”
She dug into her stew, wrinkling her nose at the burnt bits, but generally finding it edible. She was hungry enough that she would have eaten worse.
On the far side of the room, a trio of mostly in-tune musicians took up an energetic sailor’s jig, making it nearly impossible to hold a conversation. So she focused on her food, realizing halfway through the bowl that no one had brought their drinks.
“Xavi, can you let me up? I need to go ask about our drinks.”
He eyed the room. Looked at her. Then announced, “I will do it.”
And then he stood up and disappeared before she could utter a horrified protest.