Chapter 7 #2
I unlace the leather string holding the diary closed and flip through pages until I settle on one dated as Midsummer.
Finally, a time and a season that makes sense. There are so many Fae references in the journal that even Jaxon’s tonic cannot help me decipher.
I begin to read.
I can scarcely believe what I am about to write, but if I do not, I am convinced Father and Mother will attempt to convince me I misheard them. That today’s conversation was all just a fanatical dream. That I imagined it all.
But no. I will not be dissuaded from the truth.
The humans are coming. Here. To Aetherwyn.
My pulse quickens. It’s the first time the author has mentioned humans. I read faster.
I know so little of the creatures who live on the other side of the Veil, but tales of their magic and invention have inspired so many daydreams.
What would it be like to live a human life? To know the beauty of the world with such limited time? I imagine it would make everything much more cherished. Valued.
Their magic, itself, is said to come from the earth’s beauty. Elemental powers that call on the strength of the natural world to improve their circumstances. To create medicines. To build incredible homes. To forge weapons and art from the metals and water in the ground and sea.
But despite their abilities, humans have never crossed into our lands. They can’t. Their weak constitutions don’t allow them to survive the journey. They need a Fae of royal blood, the blood sacrificed when creating the division between our worlds to grant them passage.
My father’s blood.
Or mine.
A gasp tears from my throat.
I read the last lines over and over again, struggling to believe what the words spell out plain as day.
But there’s no denying the truth.
The diary’s author… She is royalty. Fae royalty.
She is related to Rian.
And I’m in possession of a journal containing her most private thoughts.
Gods!
The cabin door creaks open.
I jolt and snap the diary shut.
My eyes narrow when they land on the broad form filling the doorway.
“You,” I hiss.
“Me.” Rian strides in, tossing a saddlebag onto the desk.
Shadows slink across the floor, coating the warped wood with their inky darkness.
“Don’t stop reading on my account.”
I press the diary into my skirts with my sweaty palms. “What are you doing here?”
“Unpacking.”
My stomach tightens. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired, and I need to clean up and sleep.”
“Great, so do that somewhere else.”
“Can’t. Every other cabin is taken.”
My stomach drops. “You aren’t staying here.”
“But I am.”
“Absolutely not.” I jump to my feet.
The diary thuds to the floor. I snatch it up before the shadows rolling off Rian’s boots reach it.
“Go bunk with one of your friends.”
“There’s no space. You’ve been given the largest sleeping quarters, so it is you who must share.” His gaze slides to mine, the silver threads in the dark irises pulsing. “Unless there’s another male you’d prefer to sleep beside? Darius, perhaps?”
The shadows crawling across the floor ripple toward my feet.
I stiffen. “I don’t want to sleep with any of you.”
“Liar.” The word rolls off his tongue, low and amused.
I sputter. “I’m not—”
“Whatever you say, Sunshine.” He gathers his things and crosses the cabin. “I’m going to wash. Don’t wait up.”
He disappears into the adjoining washroom, the door closing behind him.
I stare at the scarred wood, noting that the marks look like someone threw a knife at the surface over and over. I wouldn’t mind having a knife right now.
How dare Rian believe he can sleep in here. Not only is he my enemy, but I’m a woman. A female. I deserve privacy.
By the time the door cracks open again, my jaw aches from clenching it. “You cannot sleep in here!”
Rian steps out, damp hair clinging to his temples, bare chest gleaming with water.
My breath catches.
A droplet slides from the hollow of his throat down over sculpted muscle adorned with swirling black marks that are lovely yet radiate danger. The water traces the ridges of his abdomen before vanishing beneath the trousers hanging loosely on his hips.
Gods… How can the heir to evil be so damn attractive?
He should have warts on his nose.
Or crooked teeth.
Not a rock-hard stomach I want to knead with my fingertips and lick with my tongue.
“My eyes are up here, Sunshine.”
My teeth clack as I snap my mouth closed. My eyes fly up, and I scowl at the gleam in his irises.
“Don’t call me that,” I demand.
“My apologies, Elara.” His grin is slow, teasing.
My cheeks burn. “If you insist on sleeping here, I’ll go below deck and sleep with the crew.”
His gaze cools. “If you value their lives, you will do no such thing.”
The shadows rolling off his shoulders should deter me from poking the bear, but Gods help me, I can’t resist.
“You don’t own me, Rian. No matter what almost happened at the Late King’s Festival.”
“Ah, I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.” He crosses the room and opens the trunk at the foot of the bed.
Seconds later, he retrieves a pile of blankets without breaking eye contact.
The magic in my chest preens at the attention while the shadows on my arms tighten with anticipation.
Traitors.
“Nothing happened,” I say as he fans out blankets, laying them on the dirty cabin floor.
“Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, Sunshine.” He winks, then lowers himself onto the makeshift bed with effortless grace.
He rolls over and faces the wall.
The sound of the churning waves travels through the ship. Wood creaks. Men continue to shout and laugh on the other side of the cabin door. But Rian doesn’t make another sound.
Slowly, I sink back onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath me. My eyes stay fixed on him, watching…waiting for some flicker of movement, some sign that he’s only pretending to sleep.
But he doesn’t move. Not a twitch. Shadows cling to his bare shoulders like a blanket, soft but lethal. For one moment, I imagine that he stops breathing.
My magic hisses in protest, curling under my ribs like a reprimand.
I drag in a shaky breath and drop my gaze to the stained floorboards beneath my feet. Rian’s shadows have retreated to surround the floor where he lies.
My shoulders slump.
What am I doing?
This fight…this defiance… What’s the point?
The marks on my arms prove there’s no escaping the Shadow Prince. I am his captive until I fulfill our bargain…until I cure Darius from the curse that had hobbled his near-immortal body.
And yet…
Even now, part of me feels safe in Rian’s presence. Protected.
That’s a feeling I need to kill.
Because I know what Rian is—what lies behind that handsome face.
He’s danger wrapped in shadow. The ruin I can’t stop reaching for. A trickster. A manipulator.
And if I ever forget that, if I ever let myself want him…
Rian won’t be the one destroyed.
I will.