Terrify. Maim. Turn good people into mad slaves who would do what they were told. Then it would whisper words in his ear. Things they could do together that would change the very foundation of the planet.
Things he couldn’t deny sounded lovely and better than before.
The air would be clean. The winds would blow again, strong and sure. Perhaps even the great Northern Wind would call the glass palace home once more.
Such a future seemed ideal, wondrous and exactly what he’d always wanted out of life. However, he also understood the destruction that came with it. The humans would all die. They would disappear from this world, and while he wouldn’t miss them, others would.
He wasn’t a god. He didn’t get to decide who was worthy of life and who wasn’t. The elemental thought such things were within its right.
Storm sighed and raked his hands through his hair. Even his perfumery wasn’t safe for his thoughts right now. All he could think about was her and the scent he’d been working on perfecting.
Had he scared her too much? The winds whispered she was still here. Still in her room where she had remained for the few days since he’d seen her last.
Somehow, he was certain giving Ayla time to think wouldn’t end well for him.
The elemental stirred in his mind. “She needed to know.”
“She didn’t need to see you at your worst,” he snarled. “She didn’t need to see my body like that. Threatening her. Nearly shoving her off the glass palace.”
“She can fly, Storm. Just like the rest of us.”
Trying to argue with the elemental was like beating his head off a wall. The creature wouldn’t change his mind any time soon, nor would he ever admit he’d knowingly scared Ayla. The elemental forgot Storm was also in its head, and he knew the creature wanted to terrify Ayla.
He didn’t know why the creature wanted to scare her. Those thoughts were locked away from his curious mind.
The elemental had its reasons for many of the things it did. Still, none of them were what Storm agreed with. And he knew he was the only one who could control the creature’s desires and dark needs.
Sighing again, he stood up from his desk and made his way to the door. Pressing a hand against its surface, he then leaned his forehead against the smooth wood. “I should talk to her.”
“Talking to her would only make things worse. Let her weigh the situation in her mind. Perhaps she will finally go home.”
He didn’t want her to go home. He wanted Ayla to stay here so they could continue talking. As horrible and pathetic as that sounded, all he wanted was to talk with her. Sure, the kissing had been nice. And the touching made his heart race and his mind short circuit like he was just a young lad.
But she fascinated him. His thoughts were so much quieter when she stood in front of him, smiling in that way she did. With the corners of her lips pulled up a little too far, giving her a comically oversized mouth.
She wasn’t perfect. She hadn’t let the faerie courts cultivate her into perfection. Not yet, and likely never would.
The elemental sighed, disappointed in the direction Storm’s thoughts had turned. “You don’t see what I see.”
“Which is?”
“A powerful woman who could stand in our way.”
Storm had to disagree. He couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time, not when the elemental was insulting Ayla. “Please then, inform me what you think she could do to us? This woman who might be all of a hundred pounds.”
“You might not have tasted her magic, but I did. I breathed her in, and she is powerful.” The elemental paused for a moment before adding, “Perhaps even more powerful than you. She could take the throne.”
Impossible. Storm had taken in the elemental because he was the most powerful air faerie. He didn’t think the elemental could lie to him, but it wasn’t really a faerie, now was it? He strode to the mirror and stared into its surface, waiting for the elemental to appear.
It didn’t.
“Tell me why you believe that,” he ordered. “She would have come when her parents died and the throne was vacant. She would have been summoned just as I was called.”
“She wasn’t of the Air Court, my boy. No call could order her here. But now, she could become one of the air court. She could take everything from you.”
Storm didn’t mind if she took everything, but he worried about the elemental. This creature would destroy her. It already wanted to, though that didn’t make much sense. The creature sought power, so why wouldn’t it want to transfer its energy to her?
“Speak to me,” he snarled.
“I am.”
“Then show your face.”
The elemental still refused to appear in the mirror, as if it didn’t want to look him in the eye and say these things. Ayla was powerful, yes. He’d seen her fly and transform both of them into a pure element. But those were the only things he’d ever seen her perform.
She didn’t know how to use her magic. Her power was raw and unfiltered. Her possibilities might be endless, but magic was only magic if the wielder knew how to use it. And she didn’t.
It would take centuries to train her to use a minor portion of that power. So why did the elemental want her gone instead of using that power?
“Perhaps I should just speak with her instead.” Storm didn’t give the elemental time to respond.
He rushed out of the perfumery and down the hall where he hoped he might find her. The winds raced through the halls ahead of him. Small breezes with bouncing personalities. Great gusts with rage powering their strength. All of them reaching throughout the palace to find the princess.
She didn’t argue when he called her by the title. Instead, she just smiled in that way of hers that melted him right from the core. Did she know how she could control him with just a brief smile?
Perhaps she did.
Power flowed through him, like the gale of a horrible storm brewing at the base of his spine. The elemental seemed to think she wanted to take the throne. To take the elemental. To change everything here in the palace and force him into a life he didn’t want, or to put herself in danger.
If she wanted to see whether or not the elemental represented who he was as a person, he was about to show her. The madness darkened his vision. It spread from deep within his person, perhaps from the elemental, perhaps from the deep well of his own power. Either way, he suddenly only saw the word in black, white, and red.
She needed to know he couldn’t stand her suffering the way he did. That she couldn’t change him, or take what power was his. Not because he didn’t want to see her as the powerful faerie he knew she could be. But because he feared what the magic inside him would do to her. If it would turn her into the creature he was.
Storm would suffer any pain to ensure she never knew what this life felt like.
He thundered through the halls, all the way to her personal quarters where he pounded on the door. “Ayla! Open the door.”
A faint rustling could be heard through the solid wood. “Storm?”
She sounded sleepy. Had he woken her? It was midday. Why was she asleep in the middle of the day?
Oh right. Because he had let the air elemental terrify her and she probably didn’t know if she was still welcome in the palace.
Guilt made his cheeks burn bright red for a moment before the anger swelled through him once more. “We need to talk.”
More rustling. He pictured her in his mind. Sleepy eyes, lids lowered, face still pale with exhaustion and hair all tangled like a dandelion puff around her head. He shouldn’t let it affect him the way it did. Anger could only sustain him for so long, however.
The moment she opened the door, all the rage blew away like leaves in the wind. He was no longer the avenging king, angry she would threaten her own safety or angry at himself for allowing the elemental to sway his thoughts so easily. He was just Storm.
She stood in a small pajama set that looked so human it made his ears burn. Tiny shorts bar
ely covered her bottom, and a small strappy top revealed more of her pale skin. Her hair was tangled, just as he’d imagined, but she had it braided in twin tails over her shoulders.
Ayla braced herself on the door jamb and sighed. “Can I help you?”
“Yes. We need to talk.”
She blew a strand out of her face. “About what?”
Well. He didn’t know. He’d started out angry at the air elemental for threatening her. Then he’d been angry at Ayla for potentially taking on the magic that had destroyed his life. And then he wasn’t sure what had happened. All he could remember was stumbling to her room with so much rage burning in his chest.
It was madness. He didn’t remember things the way he should. All he knew was that in one moment he was himself, and the next, he wasn’t.
Until he saw her. Every time he stood next to her, he could finally breathe again. He could live as he had so long ago, all because she was within his radius.
Storm didn’t know how she calmed him. But she did. And now he stood here standing in her doorway like a dolt because he’d been so angry moments ago, and now he couldn’t remember why he’d felt that way. Only that he had.
Storm sighed and let his shoulders drop forward in defeat. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just wanted to see you.”
And hear her voice. How could he ever admit how much she meant to him? He hadn’t even known her that long, but he desperately needed to hear her voice. Just the sound of it was like listening to the breeze dance through rolling hills of wheat. She reminded him of better times when he’d been stronger, healthier, and had fewer responsibilities.
The stiff set of her shoulders softened. Ayla turned and gave him space to enter her room. “Come on in then.”
At least she was talking to him. That was a start.
Storm stepped into her room and breathed her scent into his lungs. He’d save it for later, when he could be alone remembering his time with her. Even if they got in another argument, at least he could have a few moments to himself later on.
Moments to remember her as happy. As healthy. As free without the shackles of the air elemental turning her into something she wasn’t. Something she’d never want to be.
Her room was just as he pictured it. She wouldn’t be satisfied with the cold but immaculate decor the air faeries lived with. Since the last time he’d poked his head into her room, she had somehow filled it with little items she’d found around the palace.
Great strips of gauzy fabric hung from the ceiling. Tiny glass figurines lined the windowsill, and she’d made curtains out of colorful fabric he thought might be dresses. Even her own items had been laid out around the room. Books on the nightstand. Clothes draped over the chair. A few pictures on top of the dresser.
He stepped closer to the photographs and peered down at the people on the paper. Ayla stood next to a dark haired man, tall and broad. Anger boiled again. A man? She hadn’t told him about a man in her life.
The anger cooled just enough for him to actually see the picture. Another woman stood on the other side of the man. His arm was around that woman, and she cozied up to his side in a way Ayla did not.
He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice calm and collected. “Who’s this?”
Ayla closed the door behind him, then peered over his shoulder at the picture. “That’s my brother, Henry.”
She hadn’t grown up with faeries if she so easily gave away the name of a family member. Maybe she didn’t know what faeries could do with a true name. Maybe she thought the rumors weren’t true.
He already felt the power building in his chest. All he had to do was utter a few curses and dearest Henry would be no more. He’d be a puppet to the Air King, wandering around the human realm without a care in the world, and doing whatever the Mad King bid.
Humans were easy like that. Their names were enough to control them, although faeries had the same issue. None of them used their actual name, ever. They knew the power it held.
Humans, on the other hand, were so free with them.
Storm had to shackle the longing in his mind to have yet another human slave wandering the earth. His hand shook as he put the picture back on the dresser. “He seems kind.”
“He is,” she replied. Her brows furrowed. “He takes on too much responsibility, though. His wife is....”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Storm’s curiosity peaked and he couldn’t help but pick up the picture again. “What’s her name?”
“Laura.”
Ah, she gave him so much power to do whatever he wanted. Storm leaned down and blew on the picture, sending an icy wind through the visage before him and all the way to the human in the realm below.
He could see her in his mind’s eye. Sitting on a coach with a cup of coffee dangling from her fingertips. It had splashed on the floor, still dripping with every passing second. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slack. She wasn’t dead, although he had the passing thought. She was asleep.
Storm pressed his magic against her. The icy air sent gooseflesh dancing over her body and she jolted awake.
He was gone before she ever saw the shimmering image of a man before her. Still, that split second when she’d finally awoken had given him enough time to dip into her mind.
Storm set the picture down. “She’s sick.”
“Is she?” Ayla flinched. “I never thought she was.”
“Not physically, but mentally.” He tapped a finger to his forehead. “Something up here doesn’t function the right way. At least, it doesn’t function like other humans. She’s sad all the time. Nervous something bad will happen to her. The only way she knows how to understand the emotions is to project them onto other people.”
Ayla stared at him with her mouth slightly open. “How do you know all that?”
“Magic.”
“Oh.” She wrung her hands and stood in the center of the room by herself. He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, tug her against his heartbeat and hold her.
Sure, they might have argued. Yes, he’d shown her the worst part of himself, and it had threatened her life. He couldn’t control the elemental any more than he could control the madness in his soul.
He had to respect her fears, though. Forcing her to hug him would be the greatest form of disregard. He wasn’t that man. No matter how much the air elemental told him he was.
Ayla dropped her arms, directing his attention back to her. “Okay, elephant in the room. You have something really dark and monstrous in you. Don’t you?”
“I told you I did.”
“I didn’t believe you.” She chewed on her lip, worrying it with pearly whites that made him want to sooth her suddenly red mouth. “I believe you now. And that brings up a lot of problems.”
“Such as?” He was certain she had a list. And if he got to stand in the same room with her, listening to her talk, then he would hear every single one of them.
“It tried to kill me.” Ayla paced from one end of the room to the other. Each lap was about ten steps and her words came on beat with her movements. “I don’t know why it wanted to drop me off the bridge. I’m not sure if that was a threat or if it actually wanted to see me dead. I need the answer to that.”
“The elemental would rather see you dead than alive.” He told her the truth.
Ayla paused in her pacing and stare at him with wide eyes. “Why?”
“You are powerful. You have the potential to be even more powerful than me. That makes you a threat.”
She blinked a few times, then nodded. “All right. Well, that settles it then. I don’t need to ask the other questions, it’s not safe for me here. I need to go home.”
The words were a dagger into his heart. “I can’t deny it’s not safe for you here. I sent the rest of the air faeries home for that same reason. But I don’t want you to leave.”
Her chest rose and fell with deep, rapid breaths. “Why not?”
Storm took three steps toward her, reached f
or her hands, and held them in his. “I had no idea I was suffocating until you walked into the palace with a sweet breeze at your feet. Without you, I fear there will be no air to be found.”
Tears gathered in her eyes. They hung like pearls on the very ends of her lashes, not quite falling and yet not quite enchained. “I don’t know what to say. It’s like there are two versions of you, and neither of them I can reconcile with the other.”
“That’s because the elemental is not me.” Storm squeezed her fingertips. His heart desired her to be against his skin. He needed to hear her heartbeat, feel it against his own. “You’ve met Storm. You’ve met the king, and anyone else isn’t who I am. Ayla, you make it easier to control all the bad.”
“You can’t expect me to take that responsibility on,” she whispered.
“I’m not asking you to be my keeper.” He tugged her closer, just so he could feel the strands of her hair against his lips. “All I know is I want to inhale you and nothing else for the rest of my days. Ayla, I want to fill my lungs with your scent and paint my ribcage with the colors of your soul.”
The rest of the tension in her body melted. Ayla pressed herself against him, sinking into his arms like she was meant to be there. “Oh, Storm. What are we going to do with each other?”
He pressed his lips against the top of her head and closed his eyes. He savored the feeling of her in his arms and didn’t care what came next. She could stay there for a thousand years and he’d be happy. “We’ll take one day at a time. As we were meant to do. Just please, don’t be scared of me any longer.”
“I could never be scared of you.”
But he tasted her lie in the air.
21
Ayla paced back and forth from the windows of her room to the door. Time passed too quickly here, and she couldn’t even remember how long she’d been in the glass palace.
Had it been two days since she’d seen Storm? Three?
They had talked about everything and she felt better for a while. At least now she had the reassurance he didn’t like the elemental either. That he wanted her to feel safe here.
He wanted her. Just as she wanted him, even though the desire was completely unexplainable.
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