Chapter Nineteen
As soon as I appeared in Raza's guest suite, he lifted me off my feet and into his embrace. We just held each other, my feet dangling against him and our faces buried in the other's necks. Breathing. Trembling through the knowledge of how close we'd come to damaging our love.
Once we were both reassured, our heartbeats back to normal, Raza let me slide down his body to stand before him. He stroked my cheek, his claws tickling my skin. “I threw a tantrum like a child.”
“No, you threw a tantrum like a dragon,” I teased him. Then I got serious. “Why didn't you tell me how you felt sooner?”
“Because, as I just implied, it's childish.
I'm not a man who needs to feel stronger than his mate.
But your Anu magic, it . . . ah, it galls me.
I don't like it. Seeing you use it so often, appearing to disregard all in you that's fey, makes me angry.
Maybe I was jumping at shadows, seeing things that weren't there, but it felt as if you viewed yourself as this great being, uniting the worlds because of Anu.
As if you'd forgotten how much we sacrificed to help you unite Fairy.”
“Yeah, I see that. And maybe I do use the Light more than any other magic, but I use it more than Darkness too. It's just so easy to summon, and it has so many uses. And I'm glad of it now, Raza. Nothing else could drive back the blight.”
“Yes, the blight.” He took my hand and led me to a pair of wide wooden chairs before a stone fireplace.
Raza's guest room befit his status, meaning it was massive.
We were in the main room, an open doorway in the right wall giving a glimpse of an enormous ebony bed.
Mullioned windows took up most of the far wall, showcasing a rainy day on the Isle of Danu.
Despite the dreary weather, the Goddess's temple shone brightly nearby, its crystal spires a tribute from the planet itself.
Over the fire, a cast-iron pot hung, steaming.
Raza took a mug from the mantel, a ladle from a hook, and filled the mug with the steaming liquid in the pot.
The smell of apple cider came to me as I sat down.
Raza handed me the mug and filled another for himself before sitting down across from me. “The High Council is scared. If the blight reaches Danu's Isle, it could kill the Goddess.”
“Kill her?” I held the mug between my suddenly cold hands.
“She's already missing, Seren, and the blight is only in Seelie.”
I frowned. “Yes, that doesn't seem right, does it?”
Raza straightened. “What are you saying?”
“I'm saying that if those villages hadn't sent word to the castle, Tiernan would never have known about the blight.”
Raza's expression went horrified. “You think it could be in all the kingdoms?”
“I think it would be a good idea to send people out to check on all the villages.” I pulled out my scry phone. “Is my father still here?”
“I think he left.” He stood up and went to a side table, where he had discarded his scry phone upon my arrival. He picked it up, opened it, and called out, “Rayetayah Tnyn.”
Seconds later, I called out, “King Keir Bloodthorn of Twilight.”
As Raza ordered his son to send runners to all the Unseelie villages, my father's face filled my phone.
“Seren?” Keir frowned at me. The cushions and wooden roof of his carriage formed a dull backdrop to his vibrant self. “What's wrong? I've just passed through the rath.”
“Dad, I'm worried that the blight could be in all the kingdoms. Maybe you should send some people to check the villages.”
Keir's eyes widened. “That's a good idea. I'll send them as soon as I get back.” He paused. “Where are you?”
“With Raza. We're fixing things.”
He sighed. “Good. Thank Danu for that.”
“I will as soon as I can find her.”
“Yes, I see why you're concerned about our world. One infestation shouldn't keep her from us.”
I nodded. “Raza's sending people as well. Hopefully, I'm worried about nothing.”
“Yes, well, if the blight is only in Seelie, Danu's absence is even more troubling. There must be more to this than we know.”
“That garden is strong enough to manifest a sentient being to represent itself. Maybe it is the only thing weakening Danu.” I grimaced. “Our Seelie archivist warned us that destroying the garden could be bad, but I don't see any other option.”
“Burn it to cinders, Seren. Whatever comes of it, it will be better than Fairy covered in regret.”
“True. All right, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you too. Be careful when you deal with the Garden. You've grown stronger, but this thing has affected our goddess. If it can do that, it's likely stronger than you.”
“Yes, and don't worry. I won't underestimate it.”
“Good. Scry me when you know more.”
“I will. Goodbye, Dad.”
“Goodbye, Daughter.”
I closed the scry phone and looked up to find Raza staring at me.
“I need to go home,” he said.
I stood up. “And I need to get back to Seelie. But I'm not leaving until I know we're good.”
“We're very good, mo shíorghrá.” Raza came to me and put his hands on my waist. “Just remember who you are.”
“Raza, do you really think I cheated on you?”
His hands clenched, but still, he didn't cut me with his claws.
“Oh, fuck. You do,” I whispered.
“I agree that your mind is not all you are, Seren. That it can be manipulated. But let me ask you this—did it feel real to you?”
“Yes.”
His expression grew tense.
“And no,” I added.
“Why the no?”
“They're vivid dreams, but they're still dreams. There is a haziness to them that feels unreal.
It's the haze that keeps me from fighting against them.
Yes, I feel what's happening, but in a dampened way.
Like my brain thinks it's happening, so it triggers the sensations, but they're dulled. More like a memory than something occurring in the present.” I took his hands.
“This, I know is real. I can feel everything acutely. I smell you—toasted marshmallows.”
“Toasted marshmallows?” Raza's voice and expression went horrified.
Laughing, I lifted my head, and he brought his lips to mine.
After kissing him, I whispered against his lips, “Toasted marshmallows. Sweet and smoky. I can even taste you. This is real. All of my senses know you are real.”
He lifted his head. “I understand.”
“Do you?” I cocked my head at him. “Have you thought of strangling Killian?”
Raza snorted. “Not recently, but I have, yes.” He grimaced. “All right, I see your point. Thinking about it is not the same as doing it. But you said he was there with you. Sharing the dream makes it different.”
“Yes, like sharing thoughts. If I had a random thought of having sex with Star, and he was telepathically linked to me at the same time, does that mean we had sex?”
“It means you both want to,” he growled.
“Which I've been honest about. I can't help feeling desire, and I can't help what I dream, babe.” I paused. “Hold on. That's what it is. It's a psychic connection. But if that's true, why won't my Light or Star's hakhil block it?”
“I don't think you truly want to block it, Seren.” He stroked my hair. “You may think you do, and so you set your ward. But then, when you drift off, your defenses drift as well, and the truth of what you want is revealed.”
“So we slip through,” I murmured. “Maybe. I'm not so sure, Raza. This feels . . . deliberate.”
“You think this is an attack?” Raza scowled in thought. “Maybe this is someone threatening Astaroth's rule.”
“It would be a clever way to weaken him. But I'm not sure that's it either. I don't know. My thoughts on this are jumbled. I need some time to think it over now that I'm getting some real sleep. It's all suspicious. The hakhil and Light not working, how it happens every night, the blight—”
“The blight?” Raza interrupted. “You think that's connected?”
“I don't know how it could be, but it seems strange that both Hell and Fairy are weakened simultaneously.”
“When you look at it like that, yes, it seems like an attack. Fuck!” He growled as he slashed his deadly hand through the air.
“If this is an attack, the culprit is patient and cunning. They nearly set us against you.” His eyes widened.
“Dear Goddess, perhaps that was the goal. Weaken the worlds of Hell and Fairy while also weakening what unites them. Not just what unites Fairy but also what unites Fairy to Hell. Seren, there is only one race that would do this.”
“Raza, this is all theory. I don't know if it's an attack.”
“The more I think about it, the more I'm certain it is, mo shíorghrá. And the more I'm sure of who is behind it.”
“Don't say it.”
“This is the work of a motherfucking Angel!”