CHAPTER TWO #2
A storm brewed in Collith’s eyes, making them darken as he countered, “Or bring someone here?”
The possibilities were terrifying. I fell silent as I remembered the things I’d seen in Hell.
When an image of Lucifer’s creepy sister reared up, I hurriedly gave Collith his phone back.
I caught a final glimpse of the field Lucifer had ruined just before Collith put his phone away. My frown deepened.
Whatever the mark meant, it was beginning to feel like all roads led back to Olorel.
For the hundredth time, I considered what I knew about him.
My knowledge had evolved since I’d first heard his name.
Back then, it was a three-day feast I’d needed to survive.
I’d only been at the Unseelie Court to save my brother, and I didn’t give a shit about what some ancient faerie had sacrificed.
Now I knew that Olorel had been one of the greatest powers in the universe.
He could create tears between worlds, and he’d used that ability to save the rebels during the Battle of Red Pearls.
He’d used that same ability to make the Unseelie Court, a safe place where they could exist away from humans.
The devil and his followers had been using Olorel’s mark to reach across the dimensions for centuries—like that super fun time Belanor branded it on my back—and even Hell had a feast in his name.
But when I’d asked Lucifer what they were celebrating, all he would say was, It’s a promise.
Dread gripped me, and my gaze rose back to Collith. “Whatever Lucifer is doing, we need to stop him,” I said. “So I guess the plan stays the same. Finding Oliver will lead us right to the devil. I know it, Collith.”
He gave me a faint, solemn smile. “I believe you. We stay the course.”
Something shifted in my chest. I believed him, too. And in that moment, it struck me just how much I’d grown to trust Collith. How much I depended on him. He’d become a part of my life gradually, sneaking into a thought or a breath, until now being with him felt as natural as breathing.
Suddenly I wondered if my thoughts were written all over my face.
Uncertainty rushed in, and I realized I didn’t know what to say.
We were still standing by the door, so I reached for the knob and opened it, mostly just to stop myself from making some kind of clumsy, mortifying confession to Collith.
“Well, thanks for passing on the update,” I said.
Collith nodded, but he didn’t move. I waited for him to walk out.
He continued to linger there, his brows drawn together, his mouth bracketed by lines of tension.
As the seconds ticked by, I realized that his silence had nothing to do with Laurie’s update.
Frowning, I closed the door again and forced myself to stay quiet.
“I’m afraid for you,” Collith said finally.
The old me would’ve instantly gone on the defense or jumped to conclusions. But I knew it didn’t come easy to Collith, revealing this. He guarded his secrets like most people guarded their heart after it had been broken a time or two.
“Afraid I won’t be able to do it, you mean? When the time comes?” I said, keeping my expression neutral.
“You love him, Fortuna. You may not want to admit it, but if you’re going to survive this, you need to.
” Toward the end of his response, there was almost a hint of pleading in Collith’s tone.
Then the tang of his fear whispered over my tongue.
He was telling the truth, but that didn’t do much to lessen the sting of his doubt.
“Do I seriously need to remind you that he killed my parents? He tore them apart just like he tore that couple apart tonight. He killed Finn.” My voice cracked.
“Be that as it may, you love him.” Collith wasn’t backing down. He paused before he added, “Just as Laurie loved me even when he believed I’d stolen his power on purpose.”
A dozen sharp retorts rose to my lips, and I pursed them so hard that it hurt. I welcomed the small pain—it made it easier to ignore the bigger ones. I didn’t want to talk about any of this.
As soon as I had the thought, the urge to run gripped me.
I fought it, because Collith deserved better than that.
I was done running. I gave him a humorless smile and said, “Okay, what I’m really hearing you say is that we’re all wildly dysfunctional, and we should make healthier choices in our relationships. ”
Collith didn’t smile back. “You don’t have to do it, Fortuna. You don’t even have to be there,” he insisted.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” My voice was flat. My mind filled with a memory of Finn, and it was quickly followed by a rush of pain. I cleared my throat, glancing around the room as if I were looking for something. My gaze snagged on the TV.
“Will you stay for a while?” I asked impulsively. “We could watch a movie.”
Before I had a chance to regret the offer, Collith said, “I’d like that.”
I felt a strange rush of nervousness. I turned away quickly, relieved that I had something else to focus on. “Okay, great. Here’s the remote. Let me just …”
Trailing off, I handed the remote to Collith and left him again.
I proceeded to make a nest, of sorts, on the floor in front of the TV, then propped the pillows against the base of the bed.
As I worked, I told myself I was imagining the amusement that seemed to radiate from the figure standing on the other side of the room.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. And why was it suddenly so hot in here?
Once I’d finished, Collith didn’t wait for an invitation—he took off his shoes and folded his long body to sit on the motel’s flowered bedspread.
He held the remote in a light grip and began to absently flick through the channels.
After a moment, I lowered myself down next to him, sitting close enough that his scent wafted to me again.
Collith seemed wholly immersed in his search.
“Oh, it’s The Empire Strikes Back,” he said suddenly. “This one is my favorite.”
Finding out that Collith was a Star Wars fan was like discovering Dracula’s favorite author was Jane Austen. My discomfort forgotten, I smiled and looked over at him. “What? The Empire Strikes Back isn’t anyone’s favorite. That’s weird.”
Collith gave me an affronted look. “The Empire Strikes Back has everything, Fortuna. The soundtrack alone is incredible, but there’s also plot, dialogue, stakes. It’s a masterpiece.”
“Wow,” I said with raised brows. “I had no idea you were such a giant nerd.”
“Takes one to know one,” he countered. My lips twitched. Collith’s gaze lingered on mine for another beat, and the undeniable heat of attraction filled the space between us. Then Collith went back to watching the movie.
Instead of turning toward the TV, too, I studied him. Collith seemed unaware of my attention. The blue lights flickered over the planes and angles of his serious, beautiful face. “This is the best part,” he murmured.
I finally tore my eyes away from Collith. Leia’s pale, upturned features filled the screen. “I love you,” she said.
“I know,” Han Solo replied, looking back at her with a promise in his gaze.
I struggled to focus. Collith’s scent was distracting, and despite how exhausted I’d been in the car, I was suddenly wide awake, every part of me hyper-aware of the male sitting within reach.
We were so close, and yet, the distance between us felt impossible.
I wanted to close it, or at least take a single step.
For once, I had an idea of what that step should be.
Swallowing, I turned my head slightly, keeping my gaze down as I spoke. “I never apologized,” I murmured.
I sensed Collith looking at me. “For what?”
My eyes rose to his. The memory of that night sparked, and I saw a flash of myself dropping the sapphire at Collith’s feet. Regret seared my soul. “Helping Viessa take the throne.”
He must’ve seen the shame inside me, because Collith shook his head, his brows drawn together. “I don’t judge you for it, Fortuna. Any of it.”
Another silence hovered between us. A thousand thoughts raced through my head, and it felt like my heart was rising and falling at the same time. “How can that be true?”
Collith gave me a sad, wry smile. Our past was in that smile, I thought. Every lie, every betrayal, every mistake. “Because there are a great many things I’ve had to apologize for,” he reminded me.
That was true, too. We’d both made mistakes, and we’d both been hurt.
My mind went even further back, back to the beginning, and I remembered the night I’d been whipped at Collith’s feet.
I felt a dull ache in my chest like the echo of an old wound.
And when Collith leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine, I remembered what he’d said afterward. I made sure to feel every single lash.
“You shouldn’t touch me,” I whispered. But I didn’t move.
He didn’t move, either, and his voice rolled through me like a gentle wave. “Why?”
“Because I’m …” I made a vague gesture toward myself, not sure what I was trying to say, exactly. “I’m … not safe. Anyone who gets close, anyone who …”
God, I wished I was better at this. I pulled away, wiping the tears off my cheeks with both hands.
When had I started crying? Collith didn’t try to offer comfort, but he shifted as subtly as he could, putting himself even closer to me.
A silent offer or a show of support, I didn’t know which. Probably both.
It wasn’t the first time, but eventually, there would be a last. Inevitably, I thought about the other massive, invisible obstacle between us. I brought my knees in to my chest and rested my cheek on them, looking at Collith sidelong. “Are you going to take it back? The throne, I mean?”
He remained silent. And as I felt my heartbeat intensify, I realized the answer terrified me.
Mostly because I had no idea what I wanted it to be.
“I don’t know,” Collith said finally. Light from the TV flickered over his frown.