Chapter 35
Ceri
“Oh my godwitches.” We were trapped. It had finally happened.
I was going to be part of one of those horror stories about Castle disappearing people, told at community gatherings as a warning to others to always be cautious inside the Fairwitch castle.
Cillian grabbed hold of me, hands on my hips as he drew me into his chest. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Is Castle punishing us? Maybe it doesn’t want us together.”
“I don’t give a fuck what Castle wants,” he said.
I’d never heard him sound so fierce and resolute before, and the situation felt a little less dire hearing those words, the reminder that we were together now. “Someone is feisty,” I teased.
“Well, I just had my head between your thighs and was interrupted. So forgive me if I’m feeling a bit feisty.”
“Do you really think we’re being punished?”
Sconces came to life around us, fire blazing from them and setting our surroundings in a dim glow.
Cillian crouched, tracing something with his finger. “I don’t think so. Look.” He pointed to another arrowhead.
“I knew it!” I said. “I knew this was something. Not just a piece of history, but a clue.”
He stood. “Do you always have to be so insufferable when you’re right?”
I bopped him on the nose. “Yes, now come along.”
“Now that I truly have you alone. I’d rather continue what we started.”
I pressed a finger into his chest, keeping him at arm’s length.
“If someone else wins the trial, you’ll be spending tonight with them.
So your choices are a cat who hates you, a betrothed woman who hates you, and Marsten, who doesn’t hate you but will probably talk your ear off all night.
” I hooked my finger into his waistband, amazed at how natural this all felt.
I’d always wondered if crossing this line with Cillian would ruin everything, but it turned out it just made sense.
“Or I could win the trial, and you could have the entire night with me. To do whatever you’d like. ”
“That,” he said. “I want that.”
I let him go and spun on my heel. “Then let’s follow these little arrows and find out what we’re trying to accomplish.”
The arrows led deeper into this hidden corridor, the sounds of the ball completely blocked out.
If we got trapped in here, no one would hear us.
But I couldn’t let myself believe that was what was happening.
It was all too coincidental. We were meant to find something here.
I just didn’t know what or why Castle wanted us to.
“Will you slow down, Cerriwen?” Cillian asked.
“Why?” I asked, feeling impatient, wanting to unravel this mystery.
“So I can do this.” He caught up to me and laced his fingers through mine, which was a convincing enough argument.
I slowed, reveling in the feel of his strong, warm hand curled over mine. “Does any of this feel weird to you?” I asked. “It happened so fast.”
“No,” he said honestly. “I’ve always felt like we were meant to be together. I just never was able to tell you. I thought our story was going to be a tragic one, where I’d loved you from afar but never get to tell you or show you in the way I wanted to.”
My eyes welled with tears for the second time that night. “Stop saying those things.”
He burst out laughing as the corridor curved, and we followed its path. “What would you like me to say?”
“Nothing, everything,” I said. “I don’t know. What you’re saying is perfect. Too perfect.”
He brought my hand up and pressed a kiss to it. “No such thing. What about you? Have you always known?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “Well, no. You were always my best friend, and I knew I loved you. I guess I started thinking maybe I was in love with you as we started getting older and I noticed all our classmates pairing off and becoming couples. I couldn’t imagine kissing anyone, holding hands with anyone . . . except you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you kiss Liam Wolvern outside his bakery? I saw that, you know.”
I laughed. Of course he had. “Mostly to prove to myself that I didn’t have feelings for you because as a sixteen-year-old girl, that was scary.”
That was why I’d kissed many boys and men over the years, among other things. Like I had something to prove to myself.
“We got older, and I kept telling myself we were just friends. Then you started acting a little weird, more jumpy and tense around me, and I thought maybe you were going to confess your feelings for me.”
“The day I was crowned high prince?” he guessed.
My mouth dropped open. “So you were?”
“Yes,” he said, his smile disappearing. “Then that crown appeared over my head, and I knew I couldn’t tell you. That I couldn’t do that to you with your father in your care.”
I swallowed, a dose of reality hitting me. “We are going to have to talk about that. Figure it out.”
“I know,” he said. “And we will. I always thought it was impossible, that there was no point in trying, but now all I know is the only thing impossible is a life without you.”
The hallway came to an abrupt stop, the arrows trailing up the stone wall.
“Nothing can ever be easy,” Cillian murmured.
“The heart of the people,” I said. “I don’t understand.” What were these arrows trying to tell us?
I looked up, the arrows continuing their path on the ceiling, going back the exact way we’d come.
“I really don’t know.” Cillian pushed his fingers through his hair. “This doesn’t make sense.”
We walked back the way we came, defeat welling up inside me. We’d just finally admitted our feelings for each other and might have to spend the night apart, which would be pure torture.
“We have to figure this out,” Cillian said as we arrived back at the alcove, the statue of Fairwitch and her servant facing us. He must have been thinking the same thing. “You have to figure this out.”
All of a sudden I found myself pressed up against a wall, his erection pushing into my pelvis as he nuzzled my neck. “I have so many plans for you tonight, Cerriwen Morgane.”
“You mean a grumpy cat won’t suffice?”
He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Do not tease me right now.”
I turned my head and let him kiss me. This kiss was rough and hard and with a clear message: you are mine.
I pulled away, breathless and determined. “Okay.” I held him at arm’s length. “You stay there or I am never going to get any work done.”
He smiled mischievously. “That tempting, huh?”
I rolled my eyes and spun to face the statue.
All the arrows led to this statue, to Fairwitch.
The mighty godwitch had shorn hair, cut close to their head, and I knew from paintings they had ebony skin and golden eyes.
Here, they gazed down at the servant kneeling at their feet, their hand caressing her cheek.
A good queen must find the heart of her people.
Was Fairwitch our heart? My gaze traveled to the servant, her body thick and strong, her hair long, sweeping down past her shoulders, her gaze downward to her sandaled feet.
I hoped one day the world would learn the truth of the Fair Folk.
That they weren’t just some fun fairy tale told at bedtime and in school.
That they were real and that they’d been created to be slaves.
Whoever had carved this statue portrayed the faerie woman’s grief so palpably.
Fairwitch’s gaze was hard and merciless.
I followed the line of Fairwitch’s eyesight, realizing they weren’t looking directly at the faerie’s face, but something else . . .
I stepped closer and squinted at the faerie’s fist hanging at her side. In defeat. A glint of red peeked from between her fingers. I reached out and touched the faerie’s hand, cool stone and metal grazing my skin.
I gasped.
“What? Did you find something?” Cillian asked.
I reached into the small opening of her fist and drew out a long chain with a glittering red heart at the end of it.
“You must find the heart of the people,” I murmured, staring at it.
“Wow.” Cillian came up beside me. “You did it. You actually did it.” He whirled me around and crushed me to his body, and I laughed in disbelief, staring at the necklace dangling from my fingers.
The corridor started to shake around us, but neither of us moved, holding each other and breathing each other in while we disappeared.