Chapter 12
Max
“What?”
“What happened?” Tay stresses, moving me backwards. The crowd follows, steps coordinated and in time to the music floating through the air. “Did he do something?”
Did he? Other than crowd me, know my secret and try to dig for more while annoying me in the process, no he didn’t actually do anything.
But if I tell Tay that, I’ll open another conversation about how he knows about my magic. “No. He just talked to me.”
“He looked a bit close.” Tay watches me from the corner of his eye, waiting for my reaction. “If I didn’t know you, and how little you care for others, I’d wonder if you liked it.”
Growling, I pinch his side. It’s not that I don’t like others. Others don’t like me.
Growing up in a Coven where people give you a wide berth, it’s easier to stay alone. Because of that, it’s not often someone tries to be around me as much as the heir.
“I didn’t like it—him, if that’s what you were asking.” I didn’t. Not really. “I think he’s just curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“Me.”
Tay’s eyebrows shoot up. “About you? Why?”
Shrugging, I allow him to lead me through a complicated dance move, feet tripping over my skirt.
“I’m not sure,” I lie. “He doesn’t seem to believe I’m an advisor.”
“Well, after your display in the meeting this morning,” Tay retorts, sighing. “Maybe he’s interested because you stood up to him?”
Nodding, I slip, heel of my feet catching my friend’s toe. He huffs out a pained breath, spinning me.
“He’s not afraid of me,” I whisper, looking away, shame coloring my cheeks. It’s very rare for me to discuss this openly, even though Tay knows how I feel.
Everyone is always afraid of me. For the right reason. But the heir? He’s not.
It shouldn’t draw me toward him. My body shouldn’t ache to be near him. But something in the way he looks at me—not that I’m a monster, not something to harm, nor to run from, sits heavily on my shoulders.
It makes distrusting him difficult. I know he can hurt me by exposing me, but… it’s all very complicated.
I hate complicated feelings. It’s easier to hide.
“Perhaps,” Tay cautions, spinning me again. “But Dark Fae are never to be trusted, Max. Mother always instructed us in their ways. How they trick. Deceive. It’s not worth getting involved with them.”
“Besides as allies?”
He nods. “A beneficial agreement is one thing. Allowing them any closer is… not wise.”
He’s right, of course.
“If he seeks you out again, maybe we need to set firm boundaries,” he adds. “It’s not safe for him to know what you are.”
My stomach clenches, worry sliding down my throat as I swallow. He already knows what I am and it’s not safe. Taylay is right.
I trip, kicking my friend in the shin and he winces, glaring at me “On Cella and Ger’s brow, I forgot how terrible your dancing is.”
I ‘hmph,’ ignoring the insult. Being naturally clumsy, I’m uncoordinated for dances.
“Do you know why he’s drawn to you?”
My feet skip and I almost bump into another couple. “No. Why?”
“I’m just trying to figure them out,” Tay says, darting us further away from people. He takes me to the back edge corner, mouth firm. “Maybe he’s drawn to you because of what you are?”
Throat dry, I ask, “What I am?”
Tay glances to my hands, still perfectly pale, no hint of red.
“They do seem to have a thing for blood.” He shrugs. “Maybe he can sense that from you?”
The whispered words hit my ears and I sink into myself.
What I am. Tay doesn’t have to say it—a monster. Just like them.
I’ve heard it my whole life, but to come from my best friend, strikes a deep sorrow in my chest.
Tay clears his throat, looking at the crowd. “One day, Max” he begins, a bright smile taking over his dark face, “you will find someone who truly loves you. One day, you’ll find your Heartbond. The one who was fated to be your other half. Just like I did with Cully.”
Blinking back hot tears, I try to smile. “A Heartbond? Not everyone is so lucky to find theirs, Tay.”
“No,” he agrees, “But stranger things have happened. Did you ever expect to be at a palace, fighting for unification?” He taps my nose and I glare at the childish touch. “Anything is possible.”
It was a well-loved myth in Neevea: The God of love Dey, loved love. When the world was first forming, they spilt hearts into two halves, placing each piece into a being. This other being was another half of your heart—your Heartbond.
The myth was that Gods’ Will would lead you to your other half, to find that missing piece for a love greater than anything else.
The entire Coven believed in it, including that Tay and Cully were two halves of one whole. From the way they loved the other, the devotion, their need and understanding, it was easy to believe in the legend.
Sighing, I change the subject. “How much longer do we need to be here?” He spins me too close to the massive fireplace, the heat drawing sweat onto my brow and fear clamps around my gut.
“We’ve been here. You’ve charmed the king.
If we leave now, you can avoid dancing with all the eligible daughters.
We could go back to our rooms and read tarot. ”
“You only want to read tarot because it turns into a drinking game,” he quips. “And we can stay for a few more dances. I’m making real progress with the king. Progress that will help the Coven.”
Gods, he’s always so selfless. Twirling, he pushes me out, arms out-stretched and I lunge forward, locking eyes with the heir.
No longer at my table, he sits with his siblings, guards stationed behind him. He glances once to my hand in Tay’s larger one and raises his wine glass, smirking.
It seems nice enough—but I see the cunning mind at work. He’s trying to figure me out. See what I am. Read my thoughts so as to exploit them.
Nessa was right and so was Taylay. Dark Fae cannot be trusted. No matter how my body reacts, he holds my fate in his hands and I cannot allow feelings to sway the truth.
He’s dangerous.
With a snap of his wrist, Tay pulls me back elegantly but I stumble, toes catching on the wooden grooves, falling back against the Witch.
Peering down at me, Tay’s smiles slips at the worry etched on my brow. “What—”
A bellowing ring vibrates over the ballroom, cutting my friend off. It’s so loud, so jarring, that ladies falter and lords hold the wall for support.
Five solid rings before it ends, silence stinging my ears, my magic rolling in my gut. The brew is starting to wear off and it’s rising, growing with my panic.
“We’re under attack,” the king calls, standing from his table. Guards come rushing into the grand room, gleaming swords held high. “Follow the guards. We will need to get you all to safety while we handle the threat. No one go alone.”
The occupants dart away as the king finishes, following orders with a chaotic flurry that twists my insides.
Mamas and daughters whimper as they skate by, heels clacking against the dance floor with hast. Lords shout for their personal guards and the ringing of metal being drawn causes goose flesh to rise over my arms.
War. They’re preparing for war.
“We’re taking Max to her chambers,” Tay orders, already pushing me into one of our guard’s arms. He looks less than pleased.
“What? No, I can help,” I sputter, turning on my heel as adrenaline surges through my veins, my magic stretching to meet it. “You know I can help.”
Tay’s eyes are hard, unforgiving. “No. I can’t risk it.” They sweep me away, through the crowded halls. When we get to my chambers, one of the guards hands Tay a spare broadsword and he slices the air, testing the weight.
“You can’t be serious.” I gesture to the weapon and the halls running rampant with terrified guests. “A sword? Tay, you barely know how to fight. Let me help you. We both know I’m valuable.”
“And allow that magic to run unchecked?” He asks, daring me to challenge him. I wince as if slapped, his words cutting deep. “No, Max. I cannot help out there, if I’m worried about what you would do.”
“But I—”
“No,” he commands, shoving me into the bedroom. Only my pointed toe stops the door from fully closing. “You’re to stay here. Only if this door is breached are you to use your magic.”
“Tay—”
“That is an order, Max.” He stares at me, eyes pleading but face determined. “As the Matriarch’s brother, I am commanding you to stand down. Stay in this room. Lock the door. And do not do anything that would jeopardize us - you.”
Taking a leathered vest from a guard, he slips it on, long dreads hanging along his back. Gone is the royal, now he looks like a solider.
“And what about you?” I ask, eyes narrowed, holding my chest to stop from falling apart. “You can’t hope to win any fight out there. You aren’t trained like the soldiers.”
“I’m not going to fight,” he explains. “I’m headed to the healers’ tent to mend those who fall. That’s how I can help.” Pushing me back a step, my face falls, sadness crushing my chest. “You can help by staying here.”
Before the door closes, Tay wrestles with something, exhaling deeply.
“I promised Nafre I’d keep you safe, Max. This is the only way I can. Please. Don’t do anything dangerous.”
The lock clicking in place echoes around me as my heart breaks.
He doesn’t trust me to help. He thinks my magic is too much—too unpredictable. And maybe it is. But I can help. I know I can.
Kicking off my heels, I listen for their footsteps to fall away.
He might not think I’ll help, that I’ll cause more harm than good, but he needs someone to watch his back. Tay is strong, but he’s no warrior. And with the way guards are running around, from the noises outside the place, whatever they’re facing, will be too much to handle.
Tay doesn’t stand a chance without me.
Grabbing my daggers from the side table, I slink through the door, sticking close to the walls. By now the peerage has taken shelter to hide, but I hear the guards’ boots clomping through the stone halls. Something is coming and I don’t want to be caught unaware.
Slowly, I make it to a window, body hidden. And my mouth parts.
There, everywhere, the crimson banner waves. The army has come for Griffin’s palace and they’re ruthless, slaughtering everyone in their path.
I don’t think, raising my hands, stopping one from slicing the neck of a White Palace guard, flicking my wrist to crush his heart in harsh savagery.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tay running across the field. The healer’s tent is in the distance with soldiers converging into one pile; he won’t make it in time.
He doesn’t think I’m capable of helping—his fear of me causing my lips to tremble, but I shove it aside. I need to help my friend like he did for me, all those years ago.
I’ll make sure he gets to the tent, then I’ll listen to his commands, and hide in my room.
But first?
My fingers redden and I stand, knuckles cracking as I see another solider. First, I can take some soldiers out and help guard this palace.
The raider falls as my hands fist and I hear the pops in my mind’s eye.