by Cece Rose
Steeling my nerves, I force myself to open the front door, knowing that it'll be unlocked. I'm not surprised to see that Darren’s still up this late, but find it curious he's perched on the edge of the sofa, staring blankly at whatever garbage is on the TV. He hears me walking over, and pulled from his vacant television daze, moves to get up and greet me.
“Don't. You might want to stay sitting down for this,” I say, only half-teasing. He settles back down at my request, and before he can ask any questions, I continue, “I need to tell you something, and I need you to just listen without freaking out until I'm done. You can save the freak out for the end, or I'll never get this all out.”
I want to get it over with quickly and be done, like ripping off a plaster.
“You don't need to explain anything,” Darren responds, speaking calmly.
“What do you mean, I don’t need to explain? How could—
“Rhydian came by earlier to see how things were between us all, considering. When he realised you hadn't come over yet to tell me, he was pretty surprised, but after a little pushing he told me everything,” he cuts in, running a hand absently through his russet-brown hair.
I look at him closely for outward signs of his reaction to the news, but he seems pretty composed about what he’s saying. I glance down, noticing the bruised knuckles on his other hand. Maybe not so relaxed about the situation then...
“What happened to your hand? Please tell me you didn't…” I trail off, feeling my lips twitch into a frown.
“I didn't punch Rhydian. I punched the wall, a few times, actually. It'll heal by tomorrow, don't worry about it,” he waves off my concern, before adding, “He did offer though.”
“To let you punch him?” I ask, somewhat sceptical.
“Yup, told me to just fucking go for it and get the anger out of my system. Actually goaded me to do it, the bastard,” Darren confirms.
“Well, shit. I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“What for? He explained everything, from the Halloween party, to what happened with his parents when Cia took you… I can’t really blame you for a situation that’s been completely out of your control.”
“What about Rhydian?”
“Him, I’m mad at.” He sighs, holding his head in his hands for a moment before sitting back up straight and looking me in the eye. “I can’t entirely blame him either, though. This began with a mistake, and it’s being propelled forward by a man that’ll kill you if you don’t go through with this, Kayla. I don’t think either of you really have a choice…”
“Did he tell you the other option?” I ask, curious as to the extent of Rhydian’s honesty with him. Would Rhydian have given him the same offer that he gave me?
“Killing his dad? As much as that would make me and probably a lot of other people very happy if he did take that route, it’s hardly an option. Rhydian would try, sure, but could he really go through with it, let alone succeed? His dad is old. Old, and stupidly powerful. How much do you know about the dark fae, and their royal bloodline?”
“Not a lot,” I begrudgingly admit. If only there was a nice, easy guidebook for this kind of thing. But one of the few facts I do know about them, is that they stick to a word of mouth system of record keeping. They don’t exactly keep history books in Faery. Makes it easier to keep their secrets. What little makes it out into the other species records of them is usually only the things they don’t mind us all knowing anyway.
“From what Rhydian has told me over the years, it would be a suicide mission to try and take him on in a fair fight, and he isn’t the type to slit his father’s throat in the night. Though, from what he said, in fae custom he would be in his rights to do so.”
“That wouldn’t surprise me considering they bring daggers to family meetings,” I comment, deciding to sit down next to him to continue the discussion. I sit close, but not too close, unsure of how he’s feeling right now, even if he’s not mad at me.
“He mentioned that too.”
“Are we… are we okay? I know you said you’re not mad at me, but I mean, I have to marry your best friend. This week. It feels like you should be mad at me.” At least, that’s what my guilty conscience keeps telling me.
“I know, and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but I love you, Kayla, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“How can you say that and sound so reasonable, when this entire situation is so messed up.”
“Because it’s true. You doing this to survive doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“I love you too,” I finally respond back, as I slide closer to him.
“The only thing I’m curious about now, is just where have you been all day?” Darren asks, as he strokes a hand through my hair gently.
“I went on a day trip with a demon,” I answer, completely deadpan.
“Wait, are you serious?” He pauses his hand, and gives me a perplexed look.
“Sort of? It wasn’t so much a day trip, more like, a semi-unwilling visit to a creepy temple. He made me bleed on something for some kind of test, and then he got summoned by some freaky cult that wanted to make a human sacrifice and brought me along for the ride.”
“That has to be a joke.” He laughs, but it sounds forced, like he’s hoping it’s a joke more than he believes that it is.
“Oh, trust me, I wish it was.” I shudder. “Someone died.”
“Shit. Are you okay?” He pulls me even closer, so I’m practically in his damn lap as he resumes playing with my hair.
“Weirdly? I think I am. But only because I’m like a hundred percent sure the person who died was an asshole that got bit by karma. Oh, and we saved the human sacrifice. She’s mostly why I’m late. It took a while for her to wake up, and then I had to call Kier for help with what to actually do with a confused human that’s been caught in a magical mess.” Which I can only pray to the goddess that my coven doesn’t find out about…
“We saved her?”
“Uh… me and the demon.”
“The demon helped you save a human?”
“I mean, he didn’t want to, but I insisted.”
“You are the craziest witch I’ve ever met, and possibly the most complicated too.” Darren chuckles.
“What kind of back-handed compliment is that?” I jest, nudging him in his side playfully.
“If it’s flattery you want, I can happily remind you how beautiful and funny you are. Or how even your snoring is adorable,” he teases.
I narrow my eyes at him. I totally don’t snore.
“Oh yes you do,” he says, as if reading my mind. “As gorgeous as you are, you seem exhausted, how about you finish telling me about the demon day trip tomorrow?”
“Thank you,” I mumble, snuggling into his side as he wraps an arm around me and kisses my forehead.
“I did mean for you to go to bed, not to fall asleep here.”
“I’m not asleep. Yet.”
He shifts, moving me so that he can stand up, before offering his hand to help my lazy ass.
“Such a gentleman,” I quip with a grin as he tugs me up. Despite the smile I flash him, I feel my stomach twist with nerves as I follow him to bedroom.
He may still love me if I do this because I have no other choice, but what if there’s more to it than that… What if he can’t still love me when he realises that I care for Rhydian too?
Twenty
Black Lace
Sitting perched on my kitchen counter, I take a sip from my coffee, before turning the page of the book that’s resting against my knee. I stare blankly at the increasingly blurred letters, desperately trying to distract my mind just for a little while longer. However, my attempts at distraction are futile, there's no stopping the invading thoughts twirling around in my head.
Who's going to be there?
What's going to happen?
And are Rhydian's family just going to try and kill me regardless?
My mind is abuzz with questions for which I have no answers, becau
se tonight, I'm getting married. Fuck.
I'm sure most people probably have very different thoughts running through their heads on their wedding day, but mine isn't exactly the usual happy occasion it's meant to be. I never gave a lot of thought to the idea of getting married before, if things have been different, would this have been something I'd have chosen for myself? I just don’t know now.
“This is pointless,” I mutter to myself, slamming my book shut onto the counter beside me. An odd, destructive urge gnaws at me, so I knock my still half-full mug of coffee onto the hard, kitchen floor. The crack of the porcelain breaking is louder than I’d anticipated, and yet, I feel like breaking something else. Adjusting how I'm sitting on the counter so that I can reach, I grab an older plate from the cabinet, and hold it out over the floor in front of me for a moment, before letting it fall and smash into pieces. That was oddly cathartic...
“And my brother calls me childish.”
I look up, staring at the intruder who once again has shown up unannounced in my home, and sigh. “What are you doing here, Cia?”
“I’m here for you, obviously. You need to come with me,” she answers plainly.
“What, planning to throw me into the dungeon again?” I ask her sarcastically.
“Don't tempt me. I'd much rather be throwing you into a bottomless pit somewhere than doing what I'm being forced to participate in with you today.” She glares across the room at me.
“And what's that?”
“Torture,” she answers, deadpan, before walking closer to me. “Do you need to grab anything before we leave?”
“Honestly, I have no idea,” I answer, and I really don’t. Rhydian isn’t the most forthcoming about what to expect from today. In fact, he hasn't exactly been responding to my calls at all the last few days. Though, I have received a few text messages letting me know not to worry about anything. Like that had helped any. So instead of planning or preparing, I’ve spent the last few days pretty much in denial, spending as much time with Darren as possible.
She shrugs, a cruel-looking smile twisting the corners of her lips as she rests a hand on my arm. “I'll take that as a no then.”
Before I can pull away, she's phasing the two of us out from my kitchen, and into the not-so-entirely destroyed world of Faery.
* * *
Spending goddess only knows how long in largest bathtub I've ever seen in my entire life, isn't quite what I was expecting when Cia showed up in my kitchen earlier.
However, as I breathe in the sweet, floral scents coming from the shimmering water, I can't find it in me to complain. Despite all my earlier reservations and worries, I feel so damned relaxed there's a real risk of my falling asleep and drowning peacefully before the ceremony can take place.
I wonder if they can give me some of whatever it is they put in the water? I'd never have a sleepless night again.
Soft, relaxing music plays from out of sight, as I lie floating on my back, staring up at the high-arched ceiling that's decorated in small, clear and black coloured crystals. The bathtub itself is made from one giant black crystal, big enough to fit at least four or five people inside. I've never seen anything like it before in my life, and I'm pretty sure that I never want to leave.
I breathe in and out slowly, all sense of time floating away from me again as I feel my eyes flutter shut.
The sensation of my shoulders being shaken by cold hands yanks me out of my light sleep. Suddenly snapping awake, I splash about like a drowning cat for a few seconds as I come to my senses.
“Chill out, the bath is charmed so that nobody can drown. You're perfectly safe, unfortunately,” Cia explains bitterly, sitting herself down on the edge of the tub, completely unbothered by the sight of her brother's naked fiancée. Not surprising considering the fae's blasé attitude to nudity.
“What do you want now?” I groan, shifting so that everything important is at least under the water. Could she not bring me over a towel like a normal person?
“It's time for the next step of your purification,” she explains, holding up a medium sized jar filled with glistening sparkles.
I feel my eyebrows raise. “And that is?”
“Night pixie dust, duh.” She rolls her green eyes as if it truly should have been obvious.
“And it's for...?” I prompt, her answer having clarified nothing for me.
“Purification, like I said. Plus, it makes your skin really glow and sparkle for the occasion.”
“It's faery fucking body glitter,” I blurt.
Just great. Trust the fae to consider magical body glitter a wedding essential…
“It’s not body glitter,” she insists. “We need to cover you in it completely before doing your hair and makeup.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” I plead, staring at the jar of sparkles in slight horror.
“Relax, it looks good once it’s on your skin. Do you really think it would be a tradition otherwise?”
“Unless you’re just fucking with me, and it’s not a tradition. Hell, I’m half-expecting someone to come and stab me, let alone put some weird sparkles on me to make me look like an idiot. If it wasn’t for whatever magical stuff you had them put in this tub, I’m pretty sure I’d have made a run for it about an hour or so ago.”
“Nobody is going to kill you. Though, honestly, I think my father is still holding out hope Rhydian will change his mind and do it.”
“Will there be anyone attending this wedding that doesn't want me dead?” I ask, not really holding out any hope for a good answer as I push back some of my wet hair from the side of my face.
“Other than my brother? Probably not.” She shrugs, clearly unfazed by the prospect.
“Why are you doing all this with me, you clearly don’t want to be here. If I needed someone to help me, surely you have someone you could have ordered to do the job?”
“Well, usually a member of your family would be here to do it with you, but as you’re not fae, it’s not possible for any of them to be here. So Rhydian asked me to do it.”
“And you just agreed?”
“It didn’t quite go like that, but he’s my brother, so here I am.” She shrugs again, before standing up and walking over to a pile of fluffy towels I’d failed to notice. She grabs one, before walking back over and holding it out to me, adverting her eyes for my benefit.
I step out from the crystal bath and into the towel, wrapping it around myself gratefully as water drips down from my hair onto the marble floor. I contemplate it for a moment before asking, “You do love your brother, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, he’s my brother.” She looks at me like I’m an idiot, but when it comes to siblings, I’m practically clueless. I barely know my baby half-brother. “You can both love and hate them. Especially when they’re like Rhydian.”
“If you love him, why are you so eager for me to die?” I question her cautiously, as she leads me from the bathroom and into a large dressing room.
“I wouldn’t say I’m eager for you to die, I just want Rhydian to stop messing with my life. I’m capable of making my own decisions, but he treats me like I’m still six years old and trying to trap forest pixies in a cooking pot,” Cia answers me casually, as she pulls a garment bag off from a railing and brings it over. “I wasn’t going to eat them,” she clarifies, when I don’t say anything in response to her story.
“I didn’t think you were.” Okay, maybe there was just a slight concern…
“You want to see the dress before you get all sparkly?” she offers.
“Might as well get it over with,” I mutter, earning an annoyed look from the her as she slowly unzips the bag and pulls it out for me to inspect.
The dress isn’t quite what I imagined, but hell, I don’t know what I really expected. It’s black, like most things are in this palace, it’s also long and flowing, with black lace covering every inch of it.
“Undoing just this little button at the neck allows the dress to fall off comp
letely. It should slide off easily without any messing around,” she informs me, as she points out the tiny silver button at the back of the neck line. I feel my cheeks flame as I look between her and dress. “For the last part of the ceremony. It makes it look nice and seamless, so you’re not wriggling about ungracefully in front of everyone, ” she adds to clarify.
“What last part?” Wait, she doesn’t mean sex, right? Because I draw the line firmly before having sex in front of wedding guests.
“The part where you take your clothes off and then bare your souls to each other, duh. My brother really didn’t explain any of this to you, did he?” She shakes her head in disdain at her brother’s negligence.
So, no sex—thank the goddess. But trust the fae to include getting naked in their weddings. Never has a species so well dressed, shunned clothing so often.
“It’s going to be a really simple ceremony,” Cia uncharacteristically offers some me reassurance. “Barely anyone is going to be there. My parents, myself, Aven, and a few heads of houses that had to be invited to avoid any trouble when people find out about this, and that’s it.”
“Could you maybe walk me through exactly what’s going to happen tonight while I’m getting covered in this pixie dust stuff?” I ask hopefully.
“Fine, but don’t think this means I like you, or that we’re friends. It’s just shitty that Rhydian didn’t help you with this earlier, and I know I’d want someone to help me if I were in your shoes,” she finally agrees after a few tense moments of silent deliberation.
“Thanks, but I do wish he had explained any of this properly to me, instead of leaving me to be clueless like this,” I mutter my appreciation, earning a rare small smile from the fae princess.
“Don’t take it personally… I think he’s overwhelmed. But if it makes you feel any better, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he’s not going to kill you. And I know Rhydian better than our father does,” she responds, before hanging the dress back on the railing, minus the garment cover this time.
