Chapter 5
As soon as Ninetroir left Ash’s room to return to his own on the other end of the barracks, Ash placed his thumb against the indent of his crystal doorknob.
It locked with a barely audible click, the first time he’d dared to engage the magic since Melisandre finally removed the crystal cuffs from his wrists.
The Fae Queen didn’t just rule the crystal mines that stretched for miles and miles below the Summerlands.
As the current ruler of all Faerie, she was tapped into the precious stone that amplified her powers.
It was why she only added more and more shards and pieces to the crystalline palace she stole from Oberon; a mighty enchantress on her own, Melisandre wielded the crystal like her elite guard wielded their swords but with even more brutal results.
After all, it was her link to the magical resource that kept Faerie a mystical realm on the other side of the veil that turned a power-hungry, self-obsessed Dark Fae from the Winter Court to the heartless, cruel, demanding Fae Queen who rejected her mate for the promise of Faerie’s throne.
It was no wonder she expected her subjects to do the same.
Why she expected Ash to show her gratitude for sparing Callie’s life in exchange for him “forsaking” her in front of the entire Seelie Court.
For her ambition, she sacrificed eternity with her own mate.
For her pleasure—and at her whim—any other fae should be able to do the same.
She told Ash that he wasn’t the first she pushed to do it.
Though it wasn’t usual, there had been a handful of fae who discovered that their ffrindau was a human living in the Iron.
Because she couldn’t risk a halfling being born, she did what she had to to keep the Shadow Prophecy from coming true.
But Melisandre had miscalculated. If the rumors could be believed, she forced Ash to reject Callie too late. His mate might already be carrying his child—and as soon as the rumors made it to the queen, Callie would be in danger.
Locking the door was a risk, but one Ash had to take.
Now that he’d gotten as much information about the ancient prophecy as he hoped to get, he had to go.
He wasn’t so naive as to believe that Melisandre didn’t have eyes on him.
She might have stopped trapping him with the crystal cuffs, but that was only because she got her way when Ash seemed to be interested in courting Gessamyn.
She thought another female in his bed could so easily replace his Calliope, and she was wrong.
That wasn’t the only thing she was wrong about, either.
Melisandre believed she was untouchable.
That none of her subjects—least of all one of her hand-picked soldiers—would ever defy her.
And if it had been only his head on the line, he wouldn’t have.
But Callie… if there was still a chance to protect her from the cruel Fae Queen, then Ash would do whatever it took to get back to her.
He gave her up once, hoping that his sacrifice would be enough to keep her safe.
Well, now he knew that he let two centuries of loyalty to Melisandre blind him to the truth: that she would gleefully rip out Callie’s heart and slaughter an innocent child without even blinking while expecting Ash to kiss her bloody hand.
No. In the name of Oberon, no.
The crystal would talk. If Melisandre was listening, she would know instinctively that Ash had locked his barracks door. He gave her precious few minutes before she sent another guard to his quarters, eager to flex her power over him.
Ash’s fiery gaze blazed as he looked around the room he’d spent centuries in.
There wasn’t a single damned thing he would take with him when he went and he felt…
relief at that realization. With Nine’s pebble tucked securely in the opening of his uniform pants and everything else—his wealth, his weapons, and the item he treasured above all, Callie’s brush full of those white-blonde strands of hair—hidden inside of a fae pocket, he imagined the fury Melisandre would experience when she was forced to break past the crystal lock herself only to discover an empty room.
A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips as Ash lifted his hand.
The wash of pleasure at just how angry the queen would be paled in comparison to the anticipation welling up inside of him.
He was returning to his mate—finally—and he only hoped that, in the time that they’d been separated, his tempestuous human hadn’t replaced that cast iron pan of hers.
Four slashes, quick and decisive. Faerie fire leaped eagerly from the tips of his fingers, from the side of his hand as he drew a doorway in the center of his room.
If giving Callie up by rejecting her was the way to save her, he’d stay behind in Faerie where he could keep his eye on Melisandre.
But if the Fae Queen eventually realized that the human pregnant with a fae’s child could be Callie…
it wasn’t the queen herself he had to be afraid of.
It was her reach, including the soldiers at her command.
Staying away from Callie was leaving her wide open to Melisandre’s cruelty. He couldn’t have that.
He had to go.
And, knowing that Melisandre would make him pay if she ever caught him, he stepped into the portal and, following the bond he refused to forsake, headed straight for his mate.
Too bad something stopped him on the other side of the veil.
He was in the Iron. From the way being in the human world prickled at his skin like a thousand different fairy bites, to how the sky over his head was bright blue instead of a burnished magenta, Ash was in the Iron.
The tall building looming in front of him? That was Callie’s building. He could sense her inside of it, almost as if the bond stretched between them was pulling him toward her. But if she was still living in the same iron cage, why hadn’t his portal taken him straight to her? It always had before.
No time to waste figuring it out. After checking that his glamour was set—hiding his pointed ears, turning his white uniform into a facsimile of what a human wore—he strode inside of the apartment building.
He refused to step inside of the metal box—the elevator—that would bring him up to Callie’s apartment on the tenth floor.
Fresh out of Faerie, too much magic clung to his aura; using the metal box was just begging to short it out like so many of Callie’s human appliances.
Instead, he strode right toward the stairs, his soldier’s boots pounding against the cement as he made his way to his mate.
The wards hit him when there were still a few flights to go.
The invisible barrier was strong enough to cause Ash to stop mid-step, aware of the sudden buzzing in the air.
It was a warning, laced with herbs and iron and salt.
It wouldn’t be enough to stop him, but that was only because he was a bonded male desperate to get to his mate.
Any other creature from Faerie would find it difficult to fight.
Pride bloomed inside of Ash. That was his Callie. He didn’t know how—and he hoped he hadn’t arrived too late or that she’d had reason to learn how to protect herself on her own—but Callie had warded her home.
So what if that meant that he couldn’t just appear inside of her space? At least she was safe.
For now.
And, as soon as she let him in and they were together again, he’d do whatever he had to to keep her that way.
It was only late afternoon, but Callie was already lying in bed with her feet up.
It had been a long shift at Buster’s. She headed down to open the shop before eight like she usually did, expecting an easy day.
It was flurrying out, though the forecast said it should clear up shortly, but it was still early February.
Cold. Dreary. With the holidays long over with, and summer vacations a dream a few months away, the shop was entering another lull in the season.
Tell that to the customers, though, thought Callie as she probed her temples.
It had been one headache after the other—Mrs. Wilson needed a quick turn around on six rolls of film, while Mr. Doherty wanted to know why his 50x60 poster wasn’t printed and framed just yet—until Callie actually felt a migraine forming behind her eyes.
Still, she toughed out the rest of her shift, staying on well past three to give Buster a hand with the influx of orders. Grabbing a quick sandwich to scarf down, she planned on heading straight to her bedroom, showering off the day, and getting some rest.
It wasn’t Mitch’s day off, but her roommate was sitting in the kitchen when she let herself inside the apartment, absently munching on a pear.
He motioned for Callie to join him, nodding sympathetically when she asked for a rain check.
Just as well since Mitch admitted he was only home because the floor of his building was being fumigated and he had a shit ton of work left to do.
As soon as he finished his snack, he headed to his room while Callie went to hers.
The nagging headache from earlier was on the edge of turning nasty. After eating her sandwich, she took a Tylenol, then laid down. She was still working up the energy to make it from her bed to the shower when, suddenly, she sat up.
Why? No idea. It was like the urge to get up and pee when you were previously comfortable; it came on quick and strong and so undeniable there was the chance she could piss herself if she didn’t move and now.
Only she didn’t have to pee, a miracle in and of itself considering she was pregnant and having to go was a pretty constant state these days.
No. It wasn’t that. Without understanding why, she had the impulse to get up and go out in the hall.
Had Mitch called her? It almost seemed like someone had. Maybe she’d been too dozy to pay attention.