Her expression revealed no trickery. Of course it didn’t. She had centuries of practice with deception.
But my bones were hollow with hunger, and my stomach was eating itself from the inside out. I wanted that doughnut. No—I wanted to devour every pastry on that platter.
What would Julian do?
“That side.” I pointed to the one in her left hand.
She nodded, took a delicate bite of the doughnut, and swallowed it down. Then, she held the other half out to me.
I snatched the half she’d bitten out of and finished it off in two bites.
She smiled in approval.
We continued that way—with her tasting each pastry before I ate it—until reaching the bottom row. There were only a few pastries left when I sat back in defeat and wrapped my arms around my full stomach.
Arms that were covered in swirling scars.
They were hideous.
All right, maybe not hideous. The vine patterns themselves were pretty enough. But I hadn’t chosen them. I didn’t want them there.
They reminded me of Julian’s betrayal, and of my failure to return home.
“How do you feel?” Sorcha asked.
My magic was as unreachable as before. But my head no longer felt light from hunger, and I was no longer leaning back on the bed for support to sit up.
“Better,” I said, and I pushed myself up onto my feet. My legs didn’t wobble, and while I wasn’t in the shape to sword fight, at least I was able to stand.
Sorcha stood as well. She was shorter than me, but her diamond crown was so tall that it towered above my head. “I told you the food would help,” she said.
She was so small. So frail. If I had my magic, I could easily take her down.
But I didn’t have my magic. So to stay alive, I needed to continue pretending that I was considering helping her.
“Can you walk?” she asked.
I took a few trial steps toward the doors that led to the balcony. Like the other windows in the room, the glass panels looked out to an illusion of Elysium. Thankfully, I had no issues walking toward it.
Sorcha stayed by my side. We stopped at the door, she reached for the handle, and then she swung it open.
Dark, angry clouds covered the city in shadows. They growled with thunder, and bright red light flashed between them, tinting the marble buildings red.
Lightning.
Red lightning.
It was a scene straight from Hell.
Rain sounded overhead, although it didn’t penetrate the dome. There was no wind, either. It was like being inside a glass house during a storm.
I walked over to the rail, rested my hands on it, and continued gazing up at the eerie red sky. A sharp sense of wrongness seeped through my skin and sank into my core.
“It started about an hour after you tried making that portal,” Sorcha said from beside me. “They’re calling it the Red Storm.”
I tore my gaze away from the fiery sky to look at her.
She was watching the storm with an expression I never thought I’d see on her face.
Fear.
“I didn’t cause it,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “The storm started after I muted your magic. It would have been impossible for you to cause it.”
“So why did you bring me out here?”
She looked at me, her eyes sharp. “Because you’re the only known person in this realm who has lightning magic.”
“I didn’t do this,” I repeated. “This magic isn’t mine.”
“Clearly. But I was hoping you might be able to stop it.”
“That’s why you didn’t kill me for the wand,” I realized. “You need my magic. And even the Holy Wand can’t gift you with magic you don’t already possess.”
“I believe you can help save the Otherworld from both the Red Storm and the Wild Plague,” she said. “So I don’t want you dead. I want your loyalty. I want you fighting by my side. I want us to be allies—not enemies.”
Anger rushed through me, and I tightened my grip on the railing. “You trapped me in the Otherworld,” I said, and red lightning flashed between the clouds. “And now you want me to fight here with you instead of going back to Earth to help my family against the demons trying to claim my realm.”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “I want us to come to an agreement. A compromise.”
We held each other’s gazes, and more thunder rumbled overhead.
“Will this agreement involve unmuting my magic and allowing me to return home to Avalon?” I asked.
“I’m open to the idea,” she said, and for the first time since waking up, hope rose in my chest. “But now that you’ve seen the storm, let’s go back inside. Your soulmate is in his room, and he’s waiting to see you.”
SELENA
SORCHA STOPPED in front of the doors that led out of my room. “Try anything against me, and I will use my gift on you again,” she warned. “Right now, I’m only muting your magic. But as you’ve experienced before, I can also numb your body and mind. I’d prefer not to do that to you again, but I will if you force my hand.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” She released an orb of her diamond magic toward the doorknob, the lock clicked, and she opened the door.
Two fae guards were stationed outside my room. Neither of them acknowledged us.
“Julian’s room is at the end of the hall,” she said. “Follow me.”
We headed down the hall, and the guards followed quietly behind us. My heart pounded with each step that echoed on the marble floor.
How long has Julian been working with the Empress?
Will I ever be able to look at him the same way again?
Who can I trust if I can’t trust my own soulmate?
Maybe I’d been stupid to trust him at all. Our relationship had started with deception, so I knew he was capable of it—and good at it. Julian’s strategic mind was one of the reasons why Mars chose him as his champion.
But I’d believed our soulmate marks made me different in his eyes. I thought he saw me as someone he wanted to protect instead of deceive.
Apparently, I’d been wrong.
Sorcha stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall. Two guards flanked the sides of it, just like they had mine. She aimed her magic at the door, unlocking it, and for the second time that day, hope bloomed in my chest.
Why would she keep Julian guarded and locked inside if they were working together?
She leaned forward and rapped her knuckles on the door. “Julian,” she called, continuing before he could say he was there. “Selena’s awake and here to see you.”
The silence was so heavy I couldn’t breathe. I fidgeted in place, about to explode from anticipation.
Then, finally, he said, “Bring her in.”
The closed door muffled his voice, but it didn’t hide how stiff and formal he sounded. Like he was ready for some kind of business meeting.
Sorcha opened the door and motioned for me to enter first.
I swallowed down a lump in my throat and stepped inside.
Julian stood at the far side of the room. His back was turned away from us, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out his window at the Red Storm raging overhead.
There was no trace of ice blue fae magic in his steel gray wings.
He was using glamour to hide it.
Sorcha followed me inside and clicked the door shut behind us. All four guards remained outside.
A shadow passed over the tips of Julian’s wings, and he turned around to face us. His eyes drifted to my arms, and I quickly clasped my hands behind my back to hide the scars.
His jaw muscles tensed, although he showed no emotion beyond that.
Sorcha sat down on the chair near the fireplace and arranged her skirts perfectly around herself, like she was getting ready to watch a show.
But all of my focus was on Julian. And it was taking every effort to stop myself from running over into
the comfort of his arms. The only thing holding me back was fear that he’d push me away.
Another rejection from him would break me into pieces.
“Selena,” he finally said. “You look well.”
Anger flared within me and heated the surface of my skin. “That’s it? You shot daggers through my hands to stop me from bringing us home, and all you can say is you look well?”
“Creating your own portal to bring us to your realm was never part of the plan,” he said.
“Going back to Avalon was always the plan!”
He looked away from me, pressed a finger to his temple, and met my gaze again. “Did you even think about my family?” he asked. “They need me. What would happen to them if we couldn’t get back here?”
I lowered my eyes, because I should have thought of his family, but I hadn’t. All I’d cared about was getting home. “If I could get us to Avalon, I could get us back here, too,” I said. “You’d have been able to see your family again. I would have made sure of it.”
“You can’t know that,” he said. “Our plan was to complete the quest, and get tokens so we could go back and forth from the Otherworld and Avalon as we pleased. You could see your family again, and I’d still be able to see mine.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I really am. But that plan failed. I needed to do something.”
“So you pushed your magic so hard to create that portal that you would have killed yourself if I hadn’t stopped you.”
“I wasn’t killing myself.” I started toward him, but stopped halfway there. “I was bringing us home. And I was so close. All I needed was a few more seconds—”
“And you’d be dead!” he screamed so loudly that I flinched backward. “You should have seen yourself. Your magic was tearing your skin open. Beams of it were shooting through the cracks. You were screaming in pain. Your magic was breaking you apart.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It was,” he said. “Our souls are connected. I felt what you were doing to yourself. Your magic was destroying you from the inside. And you have the scars to prove it.”
I glanced down at the scars and ran my fingers along them. “I was pushing myself more than ever before,” I said, and I looked back up at him, standing strong. “But I had it under control.”
“You didn’t. And you were so consumed with your magic—so determined to get to Avalon—that you didn’t even realize it.”
No. I shook my head, refusing to believe it. It’s not possible.
But that wasn’t true.
Because it was starting to sound awfully similar to what happened to a witch when she cast her Final Spell. A spell so far beyond her capabilities that she gave her own life in exchange for it.
The same type of spell my biological mother had used to bind my magic right after I was born.
I turned to Sorcha, since she couldn’t lie. “It is true?” I asked. “Was my magic killing me?”
She pursed her lips, as if debating her words carefully. “Using more magic than we’re used to can tax us and make us feel physically weak, similar to working out a muscle you haven’t used in a while,” she said. “But when we push our magic beyond our abilities, it warns us to stop by causing us pain. I couldn’t see you clearly through the cyclone you’d created, but your soulmate claims you were in dire pain. Is he correct?”
Her words struck me like a knife to the heart. “Yes,” I admitted, although that wasn’t even the half of it. Because I’d never felt such awful pain in my life. Not even when the Minotaur had almost killed me.
“Julian and I saved your life,” she said. “If he hadn’t used his daggers to stop you from using your magic, and if I hadn’t used my gift to relax your body enough so it could take the time it needed to heal, you’d be dead.”
SELENA
I BLINKED AWAY tears and looked back at Julian.
He watched me with so much sadness. And despite whatever agreement he might have with the Empress, he’d saved my life. Just like he had so many times before.
I walked toward him, expecting him to scoop me into his arms and hold me close.
My heart dropped when he didn’t.
There was only a foot between us, but it felt like a mile.
“I’m sorry,” I said, needing him to believe me. “I was so angry when Prince Devyn said we couldn’t go home. And I was so close to creating the portal. I could practically see Avalon. Smell it.” I could also smell my burning flesh, but I left that part out. “You stopped me, and you looked so guilty…” I paused, since I needed to be careful about what I said with the Empress watching. “I thought you’d turned against me.”
He stiffened, looking at war with himself.
Then he closed the space between us, wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me close. All of the tension left my body at once. He buried his face in my hair, and cool air brushed against my ear.
Fae magic.
A sound blocking spell, so Sorcha couldn’t overhear his next words. He was using my hair to hide it.
“I know you don’t like the Empress,” he said quickly, and I frowned, because that was an understatement. “But I love you, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you get safely back to Avalon. Right now that means working with her. I have this under control. Will you trust me and go along with it? Please?”
My lungs tightened. Because he was right. I hated the Empress. She was keeping me trapped in the Otherworld. She was also binding the half-bloods’ magic to keep them as slaves.
The half-bloods were my people. I could have easily been in their position if I hadn’t been hidden by Avalon’s magic. Julian had been in their position. So had Cassia and Bridget. And Julian’s mother and sister—who were my family now, too—were still slaves living in a hovel apartment in the outskirts of the city.
I believed I could help the half-bloods. But I was in no position to do that from here.
So Julian was right.
To get to Avalon and still be able to return to the Otherworld so I could free the half-bloods, we needed to get on the good sides of the fae and strategize from within. Which would be exceptionally easy, since the Empress had just finished telling me she wanted to be allies.
Likely thanks to Julian, I realized. He’s had her ear for three days.
He must have played a part in convincing her that I was better use to her alive than dead.
I couldn’t believe I’d doubted him.
I’d let my anger control me. I’d let it stop me from thinking straight.
I wasn’t going to do that again.
At least, I’d try to be aware of it if I was, so I could step back and see the situation from another perspective. If I wanted to be the queen that the half-bloods in the Sanctuary, Julian, Gloriana, Bridget, and apparently the Holy Wand wanted me to be, then I needed to stop acting on impulse, and think like a queen.
“I love you,” I said, since I couldn’t reach my magic to cast a sound blocking spell of my own. “I trust you.”
The cool air of his sound barrier spell disappeared, and he pulled away from me and took my hands in his. “I think you could be the key in beating this plague,” he said. “The Empress agrees.”
“I do,” Sorcha chimed in. I spun to face her, and she straightened her skirts again. “Now that I’ve followed through on my promise to bring you to your soulmate, and your lovers quarrel seems to have ceased, are you ready to listen to my proposition?”
Not really.
But I plastered a smile on my face anyway.
“Yes,” I said, and Julian relaxed his stance next to me. “I am.”
“Wonderful.” She motioned to the love seat across from her. “Please, take a seat. Both of you. I’ll have the guards bring us refreshments, and then we’ll talk.”
A guard brought in a platter with a carafe of milky dragon fruit juice and three glasses. He served us, and let himself out.
Sorcha picked up her glass and raised it in a toast. So did Julian.
> I made no such effort.
“You say you want us to trust each other,” I said, my gaze level on Sorcha’s. “So before we talk, I want you to unblock my magic.”
She lowered her glass slightly.
“Selena,” Julian said slowly.
I didn’t look at him. My eyes remained on Sorcha. “I won’t use my magic against you,” I continued. At least, not yet. “I’m just having trouble focusing with my magic dulled like this.”
“I dulled your magic, not your mind,” she said. “I won’t consider unblocking your magic until after we discuss my proposition.”
Tricky, tricky words.
She wouldn’t consider unblocking my magic until then.
It didn’t mean she would.
I narrowed my eyes, ready to rail into her for it.
But Julian pressed his thigh firmly against mine. “The Empress’s request is sensible,” he said. “You have no need of your magic at the present moment. I have full access to my magic, and am more than capable of protecting us both if the need should arise. Which it won’t.”
Sorcha gave him a satisfied smile. “You should listen to your soulmate,” she said. “He’s quite smart.”
And I’m not?
I was a straight-A student at Avalon Academy.
But my grades were proving pretty irrelevant in the real world.
Julian had far more real-world experience than I did. Plus, he could protect both of us with his magic. He could pull a sword out of the ether for me, and I didn’t need magic to fight with a blade.
“Fine.” I grabbed my glass and raised it.
Julian did the same, and the juice inside sloshed around slightly.
His hand was shaking.
Is he nervous?
I’d never know it from his calm expression—so calm that it competed with Sorcha’s. But I’d also rarely seen him nervous. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever seen him nervous. Not even before each time he’d entered the arena in the Games to fight for his life.
The Faerie Plague (Dark World: The Faerie Games Book 5) Page 2
