37
Alarie
We spent the next morning in each other’s presence enjoying a quiet, yet uneasy, silence.
“So, how did it go up north?” I asked.
With the way things went between us the day before, I hadn’t gotten the chance to ask him about the status of the magical wall separating Valencia and Alancia.
“It’s as we feared, Alarie,” Jay responded after taking a sip of coffee. “Grey and I went up north, and he confirmed that the magical weave he put in place all those years ago sealing off Valencia from Alancia continues to deteriorate. It likely is going to get to a point that Grey can’t fix it. We are going to have to post soldiers along the wall.”
“So, what does that mean for you? What do you have to do?” I asked, my breath catching in my throat with dread.
“It means I’ll likely be spending a lot more time up north. And there’s no need to fight about it, Alarie, because you’ll be coming with me. Once you’re House consort, you’ll go wherever I go,” he explained resolutely.
“What about my duties at the High Court?” I protested.
“We’ll let Luke handle the official flirting on behalf of House Vitruvian while you’re away, just like he did before you got here,” the high lord retorted.
I bristled at the gross oversimplification of my role at the High Court.
Seeing my reaction, the high lord added, “Alarie, with my powers back, I find myself in less need of that system that you and Luke are a part of. And anyway, I could use your help hitting the books again and digging into my imbalance theory on the dying magic. Unfortunately, if things keep going the way that they are, my theory may get tested at last and we need to be ready.”
A pang of guilt radiated through me. It had been quite some time since I had helped Jay with his research.
“Speaking of imbalances, I’m going to have to put an end to your friend Cass’s lesser fae rebellion, too. We can’t be at odds with the lesser fae and also looking at a potential war against the north.”
“What do you mean ‘put an end to it,’ Jay? You promised that you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Cass,” I said, as a knot began to form in my stomach, twisting my insides.
“Alarie,” he responded firmly. “I said no such thing. I promised to do my best to come to a reasonable outcome with the young don. Something that has been increasingly difficult to advocate with the King, I would remind you, because your friend has caused me and the King a fair number of headaches.”
“Headaches, Jay? That’s how you want to describe the lesser fae fighting for a decent wage and food and a home to call their own?” I retorted.
I was finding it harder and harder to maintain my neutral ground in the dispute between the high fae and the lesser fae these days.
Brushing off my attempt to bait him into an argument over the causes behind the current predicament with the lesser fae, Jay said, “What I’m saying is that it is very fortunate that there has not been the slightest sign of violence from Cass and his crew. If they had taken up arms, a peaceful resolution would have been out of my hands. But,” he said, cutting me off before I could get started, “there has been no violence, and I have no intention of harming your friend. As I promised, I intend to come to terms with him. Now, with the issues with the wall, Grey’s ready to come to the table and figure this out with the lesser fae,” Jay explained.
I sat in silence, considering everything Jay had told me. I knew what I was supposed to say and what I should do. I should do whatever I could to help Jay and Cass come to a quick and peaceful resolution. I should help Jay prepare for what seemed like an impending war with Alancia. But, for once in my life, I didn’t want to do what I was supposed to do. I wanted to be selfish and do what I wanted to do.
Finally, Jay broke the silence.
“Alarie, we ended on a fun enough note yesterday, but we still have to talk about it.”
“Jay, I…” I trailed off before picking back up. “You know I love you, right?”
“Despite recent events,” he said coldly, clenching his jaw, “yes, I believe that you love me,” he responded.
“Then can we talk about this later? I really need to get going,” I said.
Jay knew I was just postponing the inevitable, but he nodded his head in agreement, giving me a kiss before I left the room.
* * * *
My mind still on how I left things with Jay, I walked through one of the myriad hallways that connected the various Houses and halls at the High Court.
“Alarie,” a man called out from behind me.
I recognized the voice, but it was the first time I had ever heard Cole Tragon use my actual name, instead of one of his degrading nicknames for me. I paused, intrigued. Cole had been noticeably absent from all things High Court lately. I allowed him to catch up with me. At least he was alone, without his usual posse of cronies to jeer him on. I thought he looked paler than usual, which was saying something because his complexion normally resembled that of an eggshell. He had dark bags under his eyes like he had not slept in a week.
I gave him my best “fuck you” expression. “What?” He had used my name, but I would not extend him the same courtesy.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” he asked condescendingly, presumably referring to Luke.
I rolled my eyes and began to walk away.
“No, no. Okay. Wait!” he called out.
I paused again, staring at him expectantly. Then I cocked my head to the side, noticing something was out of place. It was quiet—too quiet. I looked around the hallway. The normal noises of the Court, murmuring heard through walls, the sounds of carriages on stone, had disappeared. My gaze made its way back to Cole in time to see a shit-eating grin sliding into place.
“Gotcha, little mutt,” he said.
He normally looked at me with disdain bordering on hatred, but his eyes now held the intent of malignancy. The hair on the back of my neck rose.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re up to, but I’m not interested,” I said, instilling a hard edge into my voice.
He stepped closer to me, seemingly unperturbed by my words.
“You’re going to play my game, because I know your secret,” he taunted.
I looked at him, unamused, waiting for him to explain.
“How is it that when everyone else is losing their magic, your precious high lord is growing stronger by the day?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I challenged.
“I don’t need to. I’ve already figured it out,” he bragged.
“Good for you,” I said dismissively.
I began to turn my back on him.
“I saw you two, you know,” he said hurriedly. “You and High Lord Vitruvian at the Winter Gala on Lord Preston’s balcony,” he continued.
Oh, I thought, finally thinking I understood what this was all about. He thought he was going to be able to lord that over my head?
“Don’t care, Cole. Go ahead, tell whoever you want. Is that it?” I said, losing interest again and peering down the hallway.
“I saw you at the Winter Gala spreading your legs like the filthy little whore you are for everyone at the High Court to see,” he said.
I let out an exasperated sigh, rolling my eyes again.
“We’re done here,” I said, turning my back to him to walk down the hallway.
I felt his hand on my arm. He had cussed, threatened, and bullied me before, but he had never actually touched me. He usually acted like touching me would be unsanitary.
“Get your fucking hand off of me, Cole. Now,” I barked.
But instead of complying with my demand, he gripped my other arm as well, pushing me into the nearest wall with enough force that the breath in my lungs was knocked out of me with an “oof.” He hovered over my small frame with his towering height. I tried, unsuccessfully, to pull from his grasp.
“What do you want, Cole? Just fucking cut to the chase,” I said, momentarily stopping my struggle.
He’d gone too fucking far this time. I would let Luke, and Rhett, and Jay take turns ripping him apart limb by limb.
“You,” he replied simply, a sickening grin on his face.
I had heard the stories of the demented things Cole did to those who shared his bed. I saw the glee seep into his face as I frantically looked left and right down the hallway for anyone nearby.
“You know as well as I do that this corridor is always abandoned. That’s why you always take it, to avoid people,” he taunted.
My nostrils flared. He was right. Jay had made me promise not to wander around Court by myself, but I often took this quiet corridor as a shortcut, anyway.
And then, as if reading my mind, he said, “Go ahead and scream. No one will hear you. I may only have a drop of my magic left, but that was all I needed to shield us from prying ears.”
He had blocked out noises from around us, at the same time, keeping our voices in. That explained the eerie silence that hung over us. He pressed his body against mine, and I could feel his hardness rubbing against me. It was sickening. The more I showed my disgust, the more he reacted to me, touching me, so I tried a different tack. I became rigid and disinterested. I would get him talking while I figured out my next move.
“Why would you possibly want me? I’m a mutt, remember?” Maybe he would get disgusted with himself and back off.
“You’re a filthy fucking mutt. That hasn’t changed,” he spat. “But I’ve figured out something about you that no one else has,” he bragged, too-gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, then resting his hand around my jaw, firmly grasping it and forcing my eyes up to his. “See, I saw you with Lord Vitruvian at the Winter Gala. Then everyone knows he started gaining his powers back. And then he managed to impregnate his wife—the first fae to do so in the last couple of decades.”
He leaned his head down to reach my mouth, his firm hand holding my head in place, a stark contrast to his gentle kiss. His thin lips grazed against mine. I felt bile rise in my throat as my heart pounded out of my chest.
“Everyone else thinks Lord Vitruvian is responsible for his own miraculous recovery. But no one else is gaining their powers back, are they? No one else is having fae babies. The only thing that he has that the rest of us don’t is you.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You and that big oaf ruined my plans with Lord Garaud. Now, you’re going to make this right for me. You have some kind of magic that helps other people get their magic back, and I want it,” he said.
“You’re insane. Do you hear yourself? I’ve never had any kind of magical ability my entire life. What magical ability could I possibly have that would restore someone else’s magic? That would get another woman pregnant? That kind of magic doesn’t exist, Cole,” I protested, trying to make him see reason.
His hand moved to my throat, and all his earlier gentleness was gone. He began to squeeze his fingers around my windpipe as he whispered in my ear. In his other hand, he produced a dagger. There was a heat coming off it that made my skin itch. He saw the moment I realized the dagger was made of iron and grew harder against me as genuine fear crept into my eyes.
Unperturbed, he said, “It does exist, and I’ll be taking it now. Is it in your blood?” he questioned darkly.
He jerked my head to the side. Right under my jawline, he lightly trailed the blade against my skin, creating a shallow cut. I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath so that the iron dagger he held against my throat didn’t cut deeper.
Cole lowered his mouth and licked the length of my throat, consuming the faint trail of blood that escaped from the wound.
“Or is it between your legs?” he asked, pushing his knee between my thighs and forcing them apart.
Revolted, I tried to think of a way out of the situation. I would wait until he was in a more vulnerable position and then lash out. That meant allowing him to continue to touch me. I was going to be sick.
“Come on, fight me. It’s more fun when you do,” he taunted. “I know you like it rough. You seemed to really enjoy being pinned against that wall when you were getting fucked at the Winter Gala.”
I wanted to scream, but I knew screaming would be of no use. But maybe I don’t need to scream, a small voice whispered in my head.
I thought of Jay, my Lord of Whispers. Cole was right. For whatever reason, Jay’s power was returning to him. He had once told me that whispering his name was like skipping to the front of the very long queue of whispers he constantly intercepted. He said that at the height of his power, invoking his name would break through any shields like the one Cole had in place. I didn’t know if it would work, but it was my last hope before I got really desperate.
“Lord of Whispers, Jay,” I pleaded. “Help me.”
Cole’s hand began to tighten once more around my throat, causing black and white dots to float in and out of my vision. He laughed.
“I told you, you stupid fucking mutt. No one can hear you, not even your Lord of Whispers.”
“Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers, Lord of Whispers,” I chanted over and over with my remaining breath.
Jay had told me that the more times his name was said, the more likely he would be to hear the whisper. Cole moved his forearm across my throat, pinning me to the wall.
“Enough of that. I don’t need you chanting some other guy’s name the entire time I’m fucking you.”
It hadn’t worked. With all hope lost, I went crazy, kicking and clawing at Cole. But he was significantly taller and stronger than me. All my efforts got me was more pressure exerted on my throat. I stopped flailing and clawed at his arm restricting my windpipe, unable to breathe, hoping he would let me take a breath. I gasped for air, and his tongue filled my open mouth. I tasted my own blood on his lips.
I closed my eyes, trying to gather myself. And then I felt the pressure of his arm move from my throat. I gasped in ragged breaths of air. Then I heard a wet smacking noise.
I opened my eyes to see Jay, violence blazing in his cold gray eyes, standing over Cole, his fist repeatedly smashing into Cole’s face with wet, sickening crunching sounds.
I was safe.
I walked over to Jay, determined not to crumble, not to cry. I dug deep into myself and found the cold, distant place where I hid so many of my other emotions and pushed everything I was feeling into that steel box. I didn’t look away as Jay continued to beat Cole to near death with his bare hands.
His hands covered in Cole’s blood, Jay reached for the iron dagger Cole had cut me with. Because iron was deadly to fae, the dagger was a rare and restricted item. Such weapons were supposed to be reserved for war only. Each one had been meticulously accounted for following the last war and were supposed to be in the Crown’s possession. But, somehow, Cole had obtained one of the illicit weapons.
Unable to move, Cole lay on the ground, covered in his own blood. Jay moved the dagger directly under Cole’s chin, the tip digging into Cole’s skin and causing his blood to trickle down the hilt. Jay looked into his eyes. Jay would make those cruel eyes close for the last time.
“Jay, wait!” I exclaimed, my brain coming out of some kind of fog.
I knew he was seconds away from cutting Cole’s throat.
“He mentioned something about Lord Garaud, about plans and Lord Garaud and me ruining them. And…” I hesitated, thinking of Cole’s words. “Big oaf. I think he knows something about Cass’s involvement in all of this too.”
Jay held the tip of the dagger digging into Cole’s throat.
“What plans did you have involving Lord Garaud?” Jay demanded.
Cole remained stubbornly silent. Jay dug the dagger farther into his skin. More blood dribbled down the blade.
“Ok. OK! We—my mother and I—we’re the ones who had those lesser fae drive Lord Garaud and his family out of his house,” Cole admitted.
Jay didn’t need to ask why. We knew why High Lady Tragon was pushing for war with the lesser fae. If we had not arrived back from Breakpoint in time, House Tragon’s maneuver may have worked.
“You’re sick, you know that!” I yelled, feeling a sudden burst of emotion. “There were kids there!”
Cole tried to turn his head to look at me, but Jay kept the dagger pressed into his soft flesh.
“Don’t you dare look at her,” Jay warned.
“Lord Garaud was well aware of what was coming. It had all been arranged,” Cole said, nostrils flared.
“And what did Don Davante have to do with your arrangements?” Jay spat.
“He, well, I’ve been feeding him information, ok? Trying to stir things up. But he refused to have anything to do with any kind of violence, so I had to take things into my own hands, didn’t I?” Cole said, like attacking his own people was the only obvious solution.
“How did you keep it from me? Why can’t I hear half of what is said around House Tragon?”
Despite his vulnerable position, a familiar sneer landed on Cole’s face.
“Me,” he said proudly. “My powers.”
“You’ve never exhibited any kind of shielding power like that. I would know. I know every person in this Kingdom with those kinds of powers,” Jay interjected.
“My mother has kept it a secret since I was child,” Cole boasted again.
Satisfied he had gotten the information he needed, Jay made to slice across Cole’s throat.
“No. Wait. Please!” he pleaded. “I’m sick. I thought she could help. I’m dying. Fading,” he rushed through his excuses.
Jay considered his words, dagger still pressed against Cole’s skin.
“How could Alarie possibly help you with that?” Jay snarled.
“The same way she helped you,” Cole answered quickly, not intending to test the high lord any further. “Heal my magic,” he said.
Jay didn’t even bother to deny Cole’s insane theory. Jay made a quick swiping motion across Cole’s throat with the dagger. I turned my face away. Cole fell back, clutching his throat but alive. Jay had purposefully bestowed only a shallow cut across his throat.
“You shouldn’t have told me that. Any of that. You should have let me kill you,” Jay said coldly, reaching for and taking my hand into his own.
“You don’t deserve it, but I would have made your death quick. Now, I will enjoy watching you slowly die until you fade out of existence. And you’ll be lucky if the King lets your mother keep her head,” Jay spat.
Jay looked at me. The blood no longer trickled from my wound, but my throat was still covered in my own blood.
“And you’ll keep your mouth closed about whatever it is that you think you know about Alarie and my powers, or you’ll find yourself wishing that you had faded faster,” Jay promised.
Jay scooped me into his arms and ran back to the manor, setting me down on the lounge in the front study.
“You ok?” he asked, his hand delicately running down the length of my bloody neck as his concerned eyes roved over the rest of my body.
I nodded my head, clutching his hand.
“I love you,” he said, his intensity dripping from every word.
I could tell from the way he said it that Jay thought the incident with Cole had pushed us past our fight that morning. But, in my book, the facts remained the same.
“I love you,” I replied, but compared to the ferocity of Jay’s words, my words felt hollow.
He tenderly stroked my jawline, and I grabbed his hand, dragging it to my lips where I kissed the inside of his palm. I moved his hand covered in Cole’s blood over my heart, forcing his fingers to almost painfully dig into my breast so that I could feel something, anything other than what I felt at that moment. I wanted to distance myself from everything that had just happened and get lost in the love and safety that came with Jay’s touch.
Seeing the need in my eyes, Jay took his other hand and wrapped it around the back of my neck, pulling my body into his. He wrapped his hand in the back of my hair, gently pulling my head back until I looked into his fierce eyes.
I decided my words were not to be trusted, so I moved my mouth over his. I tried to convey the half of my feelings that I wanted to share with Jay in my kiss while hiding the reservations I still held regarding our future.
Jay released a growl from his throat in response to the passion I infused into my kiss. For just that moment, I put aside all thoughts other than the taste of his lips.