Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  Here she was, distracting me again.

  This was the magic of fate at work, not the bond of two lovers who knew each other’s thoughts and fears. It wasn’t the sturdy stonework of two people who’d slowly revealed their most painful memories and wildest dreams to each other over the years, two people who’d learned every gesture and expression over time. Our bond was like a glass palace: beautiful but fragile.

  This was magic—an illusion. A curse of its own sort.

  It was just that it felt so real.

  If I had cognac now, I’d drink it. Instead, I had flask of vodka from Ossian’s house burning a hole in my shirt pocket. Vodka wasn’t my drink of choice. In fact, it was like an atrocity poured straight down my throat. And yet I wanted it now, to dull this unfamiliar, rising panic every time I thought of the dark magic winding under Aenor’s skin.

  Panic and I had been strangers for centuries, but now we were growing quite acquainted.

  From my chest, Aenor peered down at the ocean, and she tightened her arms around my neck. That little shift in her body filled me with a wild sense of protectiveness. As I watched her hair catching in the wind, I saw an image of her standing on the cliffside of old Ys long ago, before I’d ruined it.

  “Salem”—Aenor looked into my eyes—“you’re burning up. Your body feels like it’s about to burst into flames.”

  I looked down at my shirt, finding that it had started smoking, and took a slow, deep breath.

  She turned to look out at the sea again. In this wild twilight, her skin was tinged with rosy light.

  “You could rule Nova Ys, you know. After you’re cured.” I wasn’t sure why I said it. Guilt, I suppose, for taking it all away from her. Or maybe I just wanted to know she’d be set for life when I was no longer there. I wanted her on a throne, an army at her command and a legion of servants to tend to every one of her needs.

  A quizzical line formed between her eyebrows. “What made you think of that?”

  “I just think you’d make a strong queen. And I like to think of you commanding an army.”

  “Hmm. I’m not sure that’s for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have no experience. When I was close to ruling Ys, I was fully under my mother’s control. And—” A sharp intake of breath. “And I’m not sure I’m anything like her.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She commanded a crowd in a way I never could. She walked into a room and people just wanted to please her. They felt safe with her. She was just… so sure of herself. And she didn’t have the same legacy I have.”

  “What legacy is that?”

  “My father was particularly bloodthirsty. He nailed people to trees. And I think she saw his darkness in me. She asked me to execute someone, but the weird part was… a part of me liked doing it. While I was making the sacrifice, it kind of thrilled me.” She bit her lip. “You know what? I have no idea why I’m telling you all this.”

  “I don’t see what you feel so guilty about. Killing people can be enjoyable. You know, there’s a good chance the only thing meaningful that man ever did was die. He helped your crops grow again, didn’t he? Anyway, people spend far too much time feeling guilty for things.”

  Aenor flashed me a weak smile. “Hmm. You could be a therapist if you stuck around.”

  “Sadly, my wisdom would be like giving walnuts to a toothless man in most cases.”

  When she took a deep breath, her chest brushed against mine, and my pulse raced. My mind was ablaze with images of me kissing her breasts, taking one of her nipples in my mouth. As my gaze swept over her body, I could imagine her naked, spread out on a bed before me.

  But when I looked into her face, I saw that she was frowning again. “Your chest is starting to smoke again. What is that?”

  My fingers tightened around her legs and waist. It was impossible to think clearly around her. Around her, it was like there was no one else in the world. Neither Shahar, nor Anat. It was just Aenor and me.

  Clearly, I was going soft. I needed doom, mortality. I needed to think of the prison of our bodies, trapping us on Earth if I didn’t leave here.

  A thousand years ago, in Scotland, when a nobleman wanted to slaughter someone at his feast, he’d bring out the severed head of a black bull. The gruesome thing symbolized death. I needed a severed bull’s head, dripping with gore, buzzing with flies. I needed to lay it out before her, to break this intoxicating spell between us.

  Because this was my dark truth: if I let myself feel anything for Aenor, it would mean her death.

  I simmered with the need to tell her everything, to tell her my entire history, every thought and desire before her. It was an insane impulse—a feeling that if I spread out all the broken pieces of myself before her, she could put them back together.

  But really, it would never happen. I had been cursed long ago, and part of the curse meant I couldn’t speak of these things.

  “Your fingers are like a vise,” she said.

  I loosened them, my gaze catching on a little white light that swooped around us.

  And there it was: the contemptible will-o’-the-wisp that followed me, watching to see if I would slip up. A tiny fae spy, stalking me.

  I took a deep breath. This close to my destiny, I would not lose focus.

  “You feel guilty for executing one person,” I said. “Maybe I can help you put it in perspective. You once said that I hide my true nature with a veneer of sophistication. And you were right. Do you know what lies beneath my expensive suits and cognac? I don’t feel anything for anyone. I exist only to torment others. I once seduced a farmer’s wife, and when the man found us fucking under a redbud tree, he flew into a rage. Do you want to know what I did to him?”

  “Not at all.”

  But the perverse desire to tell the truth rose in me like lava. “I broke the man’s limbs so he couldn’t walk. I burned his feet beyond recognition, rendering him helpless. I started to devour him, starting with his stomach—”

  Aenor’s jaw dropped. “Can you not? I’m nearly out of the anti-nausea tea.”

  “And when I’d finished, I saw his daughter watching me. And I knew she’d never be the same.”

  I’d done many terrible things in my life. But that one… that one I remembered, because the little girl had had enormous, dark eyes, just like Shahar’s, and she’d been clutching her pet cat.

  Aenor looked like she was about to throw up again.

  “And I haven’t changed, Aenor. I could do the same tomorrow—rip a man to shreds on impulse. Torture someone to death. Those flames you saw are a reminder of what I really am, and the reason I’m leaving.”

  And there was the black bull’s head, laid out before her.

  Her hand was covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “I think you’ve made your point.”

  My wings pounded the air like a slow heartbeat. “I feel carnal desire, of course.” For you, and you alone, I added in my mind. “I feel rage. And that is it.”

  “So, you don’t care if the world burns and everyone dies.” Aenor frowned. “Just remind me why it was that you locked yourself in the soul cage instead of leaving with Shahar when you had the chance?”

  I felt something like dread wending through my own veins, and I shot a glance at the will-o’-the-wisp. I had to put a stop to this discussion.

  I kept my face completely impassive—bored, even. “I’d planned to fuck you one more time before I was done with this world, and it would have been difficult to do if you’d boiled to death in the ocean.”

  When she looked back at me, her eyes had grown darker, pools of shadows. The ice-cold fury there almost stopped my heart. I could hardly breathe with her looking at me like that. “But you’re leaving something out.”

  She didn’t believe me, and this was dangerous with that little spy around. Did she know the truth? I couldn’t let this come out now, in front of those who were watching. Dangerous, dangerous territory.

  I tightened my jaw. “Don’
t try to romanticize me, Aenor. I’ve told you what I am.”

  “Oh, I know you’re a total dirtbag, don’t get me wrong. But it’s just that you’re leaving something out. I can feel it every time your fingers tighten on my thigh. The secret you’re holding in is eating at you like a cancer. You want to tell me something important, but you’re stopping yourself.”

  She knew me better than I thought. But we couldn’t talk about the fact that she was my mate—not now. I’d pulled her in so close, now, that I could feel her pulse against my skin.

  At last, when the bloody will-o’-the-wisp flitted away again, I started to relax a little more. Perhaps I had satisfied it enough, convinced it that I loved no one, that I could still devour a living man’s body while his child watched on in horror. Good show, Salem.

  “Here’s the truth,” I said. “I killed your mother and destroyed your kingdom. I stole your power and gained control of your mind while I had you chained in my rocky basement. I fantasized about using that control to satisfy my darkest sexual desires with you, my prisoner. In short, I’ve been your worst tormentor. And guess what? After all that, fate has decreed that you are my mate.”

  There it was—another bull’s head on the platter. But she wasn’t screaming with horror.

  She simply blinked at me, her expression icy.

  “It’s why we can heal each other with a hand on the chest. Usually,” I added.

  “I know.”

  “I see. Well, then you understand. The gods fated us as mates, because they want us to suffer. Because we are the worst possible choices for each other, and this world is corrupted.”

  Her jaw clenched. “I’m not thrilled about it either, but I didn’t launch into a the world is a hellish corpse diatribe right to your face.”

  I was starting to feel worse than when I’d eaten that man. “If I stayed here, you would someday watch me as I started to incinerate those around me. You’d be surrounded by the screams of the dying. I’d bring you pleasure, then death. That’s what the gods have in store for us. And your life would be at risk, always.”

  “Oh, I understand. You’re not trustworthy at all.”

  I held her gaze steadily as the sea air whipped over us. “Listen, Aenor. What I’m about to say is very important. No one can ever know we’re mates. Guard this secret like you would guard your life.”

  “Why?”

  I opened my mouth again, ready to explain, but the curse stole the words out of my tongue. Still, there were plenty of other reasons to keep this secret. I’d just tell her one of those.

  “When we arrive in Mag Mell,” I began, “I have a claim to the throne. The current king—my usurper—is mad. In a kingdom with uncertain rule, the safest position is the furthest from the throne. So, as my mate, everyone there would want you dead.”

  “Heir to the throne of Mag Mell… I suppose you would have lots of prospective wives lining up for you.” She took a long sip from her thermos, closing her eyes as she chugged it down. “My thirst is out of control. It’s the one thing the tea isn’t quite healing.”

  “Soon, you’ll be back to your former self. Capable of drowning all of Europe if someone got you in the wrong mood.”

  Was I promising things I couldn’t deliver?

  This was, perhaps, one of my last chances to actually touch Aenor. A sliver of pain was cracking my chest open at the thought of it, like the blood-red fissure in the bottom of the sea.

  Maybe I could seduce her one last time before I left. If it was still possible after everything I had told her.

  I breathed in the smell of her hair, desperate now to make our time count. Before I went, I wanted one more night with her. I would heal Aenor, and then seduce her one last time. Safely away from the prying eyes of the will-o’-the-wisps, I would find a way to hear her gasp in pleasure one last time.

  And I would make sure she never forgot it.

  Aenor

  A chill had settled in the air, damp and heavy. Darkness had fallen now, and a full moon watched over us.

  Apparently, Salem had let out his deep, dark secret—the one about how we were fated mates, and it was the worst thing in the world, and no one could know about it.

  Except… I didn’t feel like that was all he had to say.

  I understood him well enough to know that he hated secrets, but he was still holding back. By the tension he kept in his chest, the tightness of his fingers, I knew he was still keeping a secret.

  Still, it didn’t seem like I’d be prying it out of him anytime soon.

  The October chill in the air had cooled to something sharper as night had fallen. When I breathed out again, mist clouded around my head. Even with my leather jacket on, I felt freezing. When I glanced down at the ocean, I saw chunks of ice floating over the waves. They glittered in the slanting sunlight. What the hells…?

  “Aenor,” Salem whispered, “I’m not sure we’re alone.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” As the snow began to fall, sparkling with silver in the moonlight, I tightened my arms around Salem’s neck. I stuck out my tongue, and a snowflake fell onto it. “Remember when you lit those witches on fire in the forest? The ones with the ice magic?”

  “I do, yes.”

  The snowflake melted. “I don’t suppose you left some of them alive? Because this cold doesn’t seem entirely natural.”

  His biceps tensed. “I might have left some of them alive. It was chaotic, and they seemed to be everywhere.”

  “And if we killed all their sisters, I imagine they’d be out for revenge. And we’re not far from Mag Mell.”

  My last syllable was cut off by a shriek that rent the air.

  Salem’s wings began beating faster, a deep pounding noise in the air. “Hang on.”

  As the cold wind whipped over me, I peered down at the ocean, where tendrils of shimmering fog curled over the cold, frothing sea. Without my magic, the chill in the air went right down to my bones, and my teeth started chattering. Salem was the only warm thing around.

  A low hum of magic was filling, trembling over my skin. I could feel the power of the ice witches vibrating around me, and my breath quickened.

  When I glanced over Salem’s shoulder again, I saw the first of them, her silver-blue hair emerging from the water. She shot into the air, shrieking, and flung out her arms.

  “Salem!” As I shouted his name, ropes of frost shot from the witch’s hand. They struck Salem’s wings, and his muscles seized up, arms jerking out of place as his body iced over.

  I slid from his arms, plunging into the frigid sea. The shock of the cold stole my breath.

  Before I could even rise to the surface, frozen fingers tightened around my neck, claws digging into my throat. Fear crawled up my spine.

  My elbow shot out behind me, freeing me from the grasp of the witch just for a moment—long enough that I could swim from her. I ripped my leather jacket off so I could move faster.

  Then I plunged under the surface, moving quickly through the water. If nothing else, I could swim fast.

  When I’d cleared a little bit of distance, I breached the waves. My heart was a wild beast as I looked up at Salem. He remained frozen in the air, body encased in ice, shining in the moonlight. Four witches swooped around him, ragged white clothes flying behind them.

  Around me, the ocean was freezing, chunks of ice floating on the surface. My teeth chattered hard.

  I needed to get to Salem. Something about him frozen in the air like that, surrounded by enemies, felt so piercingly lonely. Pale starlight glinted off his frosted wings.

  I kept moving along the waves, treading water to look up at him. From above, the sound of whispers filled the air. The witches circling Salem were speaking to him. And despite their quiet tone, I could hear fragments.

  “Kill your mate,” they whispered, “or you’ll never ascend to the heavens.”

  The witches swooped closer to him, silvery hair streaming behind them. “Kill her, or we will split your body into a thou
sand pieces.”

  “You want to leave this world…” they whispered. “There’s only one way.”

  “End her life…”

  “Or fragments of your body will stay here forever… trapped in the earth.”

  “Kill her for your one true love.”

  “Or we will bury the pieces of your cursed body in exile, outside the city walls…”

  “Banished from the heavens. Wormwood will grow from your remains.”

  “Your one true love awaits you. She will take you back when you finish off Aenor.”

  My muscles were ice. His one true love?

  I winced at the words as the meaning sliced through me. They were talking about someone else.

  “Give in to us…” They hissed like wind whistling through a cracked window. “We will feel it when you bend to our will. We will feel your assent.”

  Claws raked at the back of my neck, and I whirled to find a witch behind me, rage electrifying her ice-cold eyes. “You are a thief. He does not belong to you. His heart belongs to another.”

  What in the frozen tits was she talking about? Or, rather, who was she talking about? A wild fury filled me, and I reached for the dagger in my little bag.

  But before I could pull it out, the witch had grabbed me by the hair and forced me under the water. Her claws were digging into the side of my skull, and I felt the sea freezing around me.

  The witches’ words rang in my mind.

  His heart belongs to another.

  One true love…

  My body was turning to ice, but I pulled the dagger from my bag. I stabbed the witch hard in one of her wrists, and she released her grip on my head. I bobbed to the surface, desperate for warmth.

  The witch reached for me again, but I brought the dagger into the side of her neck, puncturing her jugular, then pulled it out again. Her eyes were open wide as she slid under the surface of the water.

  My breath came out in short, sharp gasps. I sounded panicked, and puffs of fog clouded around my head.

  I looked up at Salem, lungs constricting at the sight of him. They were freezing him down to his bones—and I felt like they’d shatter him if he didn’t give in. I didn’t want to give up my only weapon, but I needed to distract them long enough that the spell would break.