“I cannot help him, Bree. Not like this. How badly is he hurt?” The pain in his voice matched the pain in her mind when she thought about never being able to see Taveon again, at least not awake and alert and full of life.
“He’s bleeding pretty badly,” Bree said softly. “And I know you cannot help them, not when you’re like...this. But maybe I can help them. Or, we can help him. Together. I’ve used your powers before. Your immortality is running through my veins. Maybe if you instructed me on how to heal him, I could use your power to close his wound.”
Taveon fell silent, and it was almost as though he had disappeared behind his own wall. But then he came back, his emotions a whirlwind, so fierce and so tormented that she couldn’t pick out a single thought to name. They were blended together, forming a tornado that wanted to suck her up from the ground and draw her into its madness.
“Rafe told you what I can do.” Taveon’s voice was hard, but she knew it was not directed at Rafe. Even with their bond, and even with the openness between them, Bree knew that Taveon did not want her to know all of the secrets he kept hidden from the world. She knew that she had seen them that day they’d formed the bond between them, but he had still kept them hidden from her ever since.
“I guessed it,” she said. “Rafe did not need to tell me in order for me to put the puzzle pieces together. I’m not an idiot, Taveon. He’s come to you for healing on more than one occasion. Besides, you’ve healed me, too.”
A pause. “I assumed you thought that it was the making of our bond that healed you.” Taveon let out a heavy sigh. “But I should not have assumed anything of the sort. You have shown me time and time again not to underestimate you.”
“Glad you’re finally figuring it out,” Bree said with a smile. “Even if it did take you going into a magical trance to get there. So, can you tell me how to heal Rafe?”
“I worry this will not work, Bree.” Taveon’s voice was laced with worry. “Perhaps you should go to the Council.”
“Does a fae on the Council have special healing powers?”
“No,” Taveon admitted. “But Conlan or Dagen might be able to find someone who does.”
“We might not have time for that,” Bree said with a frown, glancing over to where Rafe had sprawled out on the sofa. Blood had begun to drip down the side of it, dribbling onto the stone floor. Rafe’s face, normally golden from the glow reflected from the light of the moon, was now as white as a sheet. His eyes were fixed on her face, but they were distant. They needed to hurry. “He’s not in good shape, Taveon. You need to tell me what to do. Now.”
“Right.” Dread dripped down the bond, pouring into Bree’s mind and making her fear ramp up another notch. “Here is what you need to do. Go over, stand by his side, and place your hands directly over his heart. Once you are certain that your hands are where they need to be, close your eyes and tell me that you are ready. I will then send my healing powers through the bond to heal Rafe’s body and soul. If we are lucky, this will work, but I have never tried to heal through another fae.”
“Well, you’ve never had this kind of bond with someone before.” Bree clutched his arm and squeezed tight. “This is special. This is different. If you’re ever going to be able to do something like this, it would be now, and it would be with me.”
Bree felt a slight smile travel through the bond. “It is not like you to be the one full of optimism, but I am glad for it. Now, go. Prepare yourself as best you can. I do not know how this is going to feel for you.”
Bree gave a nod, and she let go of Taveon’s arm, even though she hated breaking the contact between them. Ever since they’d made the bond, she felt the constant desire to be close to him, especially now. She strode across the room and dropped to Rafe’s side. Her knees dug into the stone ground, but she ignored the pain. Following Taveon’s instructions, she lifted Rafe’s shirt to reveal his chest. And then she placed her trembling hands directly over his heart.
His chest was slick and cool underneath her shaking fingers. His heartbeat was rapid but weak at same time. He groaned and shifted against the sofa. Heart beating wildly in her chest, Bree took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale through her nose.
“Are you certain this is a good idea, Bree?” Rafe asked, his voice just as weak as his heartbeat. He tried to shift up onto his elbows and pry her hands off his chest, but his usual unending strength had left him. Bree had to push her fear aside. It had taken them far too long to get here. It had taken her far too long to talk Taveon into attempting this feat. “I worry what will happen to you when you try to heal me with Taveon’s powers. You do not know the truth about him. He is far stronger than you realize. And it is not natural for his abilities to churn through your mortal body.”
“I don’t care,” Brady said, her heart racing. “You look like you’re on the edge of death. If this weakens me, then it’s worth it.”
“I am not worried about it weakening you, Bree.” Rafe shuddered as he drew a deep breath into his lungs. “I am worried about it killing you. You do not know how his power will transform your body.”
“Well, we’re about to find out.” Bree took in another deep breath, filling her lungs with the sudden cool of the room. She closed her eyes, and she called out to Taveon through their bond. She’d left all the walls down between them. And he’d been listening to every word of her conversation with Rafe. She knew that he could see his old friend’s current state through her eyes, and she could feel his fear pounding deep within his chest.
“I will not let this kill you, Bree,” Taveon said, his voice rough with emotion. “Just hold on tight. Let the power fill you. And then let it go. Let it flee your body, even if it feels like every part of your essence is leaving you behind. Let it form in your hands. Let it fill Rafe’s soul.”
Strange magic took shape in her gut. It started in the very center of her, right within her core. Slowly, it began to spread through her body. Her stomach churned with bright sparks, tingling her lungs and then her chest and then her shoulders. It traveled down her legs, reaching out until it touched the very edges of her toes. And then it filled her head with the sweet, sweet scent of the morning after rain. Bree shattered against the sensation, her entire body trembling from the intensity of its fire. She felt alive. She’d never felt this alive in her entire life. Every part of her was full of him, full of Taveon.
And she didn’t want to let it go. She wanted to reach out and hold it close to her, forever trapping his essence inside her form.
Rafe moaned, snapping Bree back into the present. Another deep breath. Another long exhale through her nose. The sparkling filled her head, lighting up the back of her eyelids with visions of a bright sun that filled the world with the sweetest kind of light. For a moment, she hesitated, curious about that bright light. There was no sun in Underworld. Only a moon and the darkest of nights. And yet…
“Let the healing go, Bree,” Taveon whispered into her mind.
Shuddering, Bree focused on Rafe’s uneven heartbeat. She focused on her hands, on her fingertips, and on pushing every part of her out through the very edges of her skin. The magical, sparkling rays of light pooled into her hands, and her head felt light from the sudden absence of it. Her arms crackled and shook, and the magic poured out of her body and into Rafe. He began to shake underneath her, his body now feeling the same sensation she had.
He was healing, taking the magic from both Bree and Taveon. His skin began to warm, and his heartbeat grew stronger. So strong that she could feel the force of it pounding through his skin as she pressed her hands as tightly to his chest as she could.
“You did it, Bree,” Taveon whispered into her mind, and then the sensation snapped away as he pulled himself away from her.
Shaking her head, Bree opened her eyes to find Rafe gazing up at her with eyes full of an emotion that she was far too scared to name. His hand reached up to her face, and he trailed a finger down her cheek, stopping to catch the tear that had fallen from her e
yes. She was crying. But she hadn’t realized it until now.
She didn’t even know why she was crying. Nothing was wrong. Quite the opposite in fact. She had used Taveon’s power, and Rafe had been healed. His wound had begun to stitch itself together, and he was no longer bleeding.
And Bree was fine. Taveon’s power hadn’t killed her. It hadn’t even harmed her. She just felt… impossibly empty now, as if she had just lost a very important part of her.
Chapter 8
Taveon
Taveon felt weaker due to the amount of strength that Bree had pulled from his body, but he did not mind. He would do it again a million times, just as long as Rafe survived. And he had. Against all odds, Bree had managed to heal Rafe by using Taveon’s healing powers.
But Taveon had felt Bree’s desire to hold onto that power. He had felt her drawn to that bright, sparkling light that he saw every time he healed a fae. And she had wondered at it, knowing that no part of Underworld ever saw light quite like that. There was no sun there. There was nothing more than a full moon sky lit up by sparkling stars.
He had managed to draw her away from that realization, but he knew it was only a matter of time before her mind drifted back to it, wondering at what it meant. She had come so close so many times to understanding the full truth of him, but he never wanted her to get that close ever again. It would be dangerous for her to know the truth. Not for Taveon but for Bree.
Taveon reached out through the bond and caressed Bree’s mind with his own. She was there in an instant, her heart open wide to let him into her soul. Everything within him ached from a kind of desire he had long since felt. He wished he could do more than speak to her in his own mind. He wished he could wrap his arms around her and hold her close.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “Nothing more than the usual. I wanted to ask something of you, Bree, though I hate to do so.”
“What is it?” she asked. “I’ll do anything you need me to do, you know.”
“Just as long as you promise that you will keep yourself safe. Do not be reckless. No matter what.”
“I promise,” she said, though Taveon knew deep down inside that this was not a promise Bree could keep. She was reckless and determined and brave. Once she set her mind to a task, to hell with all the rest. He just hoped she understood how careful he wanted her to be. Her safety was far more important to him than anything else. But he also knew she needed something to do or she would drive herself and everyone around her crazy.
“I need you to look into the curse for me. Quietly. Listen and watch. Learn what you can.” A pause. “My father had old tomes in his chambers. Perhaps you might find some answers there, or perhaps you might be able to overhear someone in the Court discussing what has happened.”
“Is that it?” He could feel her smile through the bond. “I was going to do that anyway, you know. You didn’t need to ask.”
“Thank you, Bree,” he said, hating that she had to be the one to protect him instead of the other way around. He wanted to be her savior. He wanted to be strong and powerful. For her.
“No problem. Leave it with me. I’ll find whoever did this to you. And I’ll make them bring you back to me.”
Chapter 9
Bree
Fillan hadn’t shown his face since he’d snuck into Bree’s quarters, but she felt his presence hovering around her like a clingy fog no matter how hard she tried to forget what he’d asked her to do. Truth be told, she was more than a little curious to find the answer to his question. What was Taveon’s secret?
The answer to that question might very well lead to the more important one: who had put Taveon under his curse? And how could they fix it?
So far, the council had managed to keep the truth about the King’s current state held tight within the castle walls, but it was only a matter of time before the news began to spread throughout the Dark Fae lands. One little spark was all it would take for the entire Court to go up in flames, leaving behind nothing more than the ashy remains of everyone inside.
The only way to stop it would be to find out the answer to Bree’s questions before enemies discovered Taveon’s fate.
Bree took a deep breath as she stared out her window at the setting moon. Soon, full darkness would consume the skies, and every fae in the castle would turn to their beds for sleep. It was the perfect time to snoop around. She needed to find some answers.
Bree waited a few more hours and then doused the light in her room, along with the flickering fire that kept her quarters warm from the cold that had begun to seep into the castle as the nights grew colder. Underworld did not have fully distinguishable seasons like the human and Light Fae realms. Instead, they had two “stages” of the year. Cold and Warm. Now, the Cold was slowly creeping in, and Bree couldn’t help but wonder what this nighttime place would look like in the snow.
As she poked her head out the door, she let out a slow exhale of relief when she saw the corridor was dark, empty, and as silent as the deepest part of a forest. She did not take any light with her, choosing her own eyes instead of a candle’s bright flame. Rafe had taught her how to shift single body parts when needed, and her beastly eyes could see in the dark far better than her ‘human’ eyes could see in the light.
The floorboards creaked underneath as she slowly shut her door behind her. Taking in a deep breath, she focused on the path ahead and made her way down the deathly-silent hallways of the castle. Tonight, she would hunt for answers.
Bree stepped inside the former King’s chambers. In his absence, the room felt like a tomb, and the echo of his presence resounded through the lofted stone space like a dying heartbeat. Shivering, she hugged her arms to her chest and shifted her eyes back to normal after spotting a candle on the table just inside the door.
After lighting the flame, Bree held the candle aloft before her and gazed from one end of the room to the other. If someone had asked her how she imagined King Midas’s private chambers to be, this was pretty close to what she would have described.
Along the far wall hung skulls of varying shapes and sizes. Some looked human—or fae. Others looked beastly, their sharp edges glinting against the candlelight. There were probably a hundred of them, and Bree had no desire to know where they’d come from, how, or why. Victims, she imagined. Fae and beasts who had fallen against the King’s sword. Some of them had likely been enemies, though she knew Midas had often been a fan of putting heads on stakes just outside the front gates as a reminder to the realm of his unyielding strength.
To her left was a bed, but it was unlike any bed she’d ever seen. There were no sheets. No pillows. Just a slab of stone erected high above the floor. Midas wasn’t the kind of fae who valued comfort, a fact that was reflected even in his most private of spaces.
More than ever, she was glad she’d never had to meet the male.
A click resounded in the heavy silence, and Bree whirled toward the door. Dagen stood just inside, his eyes widening when he spotted her skulking around in the midst of the previous King’s quarters. Bree’s heart began to race. Not out of fear but from something else. Something she couldn’t quite name.
“Bree?” Dagen lifted his eyebrows, and then quickly closed the door behind him. “What in the name of the forest are you doing in here? If one of the guards caught you, they would—”
“They’d what?” she asked, propping her free hand on her waist. “Throw me in the dungeons? Been there. Done that. Besides, I’m acting under Taveon’s orders.”
“You honestly expect me to believe that the King commanded you to lurk around in his father’s chambers?”
Bree’s heart lurched at that. As much as she kept trying to tell herself that she was doing this for Taveon, deep down she knew that part of it was because she was dying to know what he was hiding. But she wasn’t about to tell Lord Dagen that.
“He asked me to look into who might have cast this curse or whatever it is, so yes.” Bree crossed the room,
daring to draw closer to Dagen’s side. “But what I really want to know is why are you here, Lord Dagen?”
His eyes glinted as he watched her take one slow step after the other. “I may not have a direct line to the King’s mind, but I know what he wishes all the same. I, too, am here to find answers.”
“Oh?” Bree paused, halfway between the back wall of skulls and where Dagen still stood beside the iron door. She couldn’t help but notice how he looked against the flickering candlelight. The shadows curled around his sharp features, and there was something in the way he threw his shoulders back that made him look far more powerful than he usually did. Strength shimmered around his thick frame, radiating straight into Bree’s core.
Bree had always thought Dagen to be handsome, but it was a fact she’d desperately tried to ignore. But now, they were alone. Just the two of them. And no one at all knew they were here. Not even Taveon. She’d erected too many walls around her mind before heading out on her mission for him to follow her here.
Her heart beat a little faster.
“I know you may find it hard to believe, but I too care about what happens to our ruler.”
“You care what happens to the King,” Bree said, blinking out of her reverie. “But you do not care what happens to Taveon himself. You just care about the position, not about the male occupying it.”
Dagen pursed his lips. “That is not fair, Bree. After everything that has happened, you still think I am some kind of heartless monster?”
“Honestly?” Bree lifted her hands to her sides and shrugged. “I don’t really know what to think about you. One minute, you seem like you’re working against Taveon. The next, you’re working with him and then for him. I have no idea what it is you want. Or why you want it. And what you’d do in order to get it.”
A Heart of Midnight (Dark Fae Academy Book 2) Page 5
