His lips pull into the wicked smile I know so well, and he kisses me. Memories of last night rush through me in a wave of pleasure, and my body responds in turn. His hands rove my skin, slip beneath the discarded dress I’d used as a makeshift blanket to caress my back, my hips, my thighs.
“You kept your promise,” he whispers between kisses.
“What promise?”
“That I’d never bed you. Luckily, you never said I couldn’t cave you.”
I smile against his lips. “I’m pretty sure I never used the words I promise. Nevertheless, I should have given you more credit. Turns out, any place will do.”
“It will,” he says. “However, bed sounds nice. Do you think you’ll reconsider?”
I pull away from him and pretend to ponder. “Hmm. I suppose I can do that.”
“What do you say we return to the palace, get in bed, do this all over again, and have a proper sleep on a surface that doesn’t feel like cold knives?”
I want to say yes, but a more serious thought comes to mind. “What about the ritual?”
His vulnerability returns, but only for a flash. “Have you decided?”
I lay my head back on his chest, bringing my fingers to trail over his golden skin and the hard muscles of his torso. “Tell me about it.”
He’s silent for a moment. “At its simplest, the Bonding ritual requires only one thing—an exchange of names. I’m sure you are already familiar with the act of giving one’s true name.”
“Yes,” I say, suppressing a shudder. I don’t mention that it’s something human children are taught never to do. Always be careful of your wording when introducing yourself to a fae, we’re told. Never say anything like, I give you my name.
“Well, the Bonding ritual is nothing more than that,” he says. “One party states that they give their true name to the other, and the other party states the same. That’s all it takes for the Bond to take hold.”
“What exactly is the Bond?” The way he explains it sounds so simple. If it truly is that way, why is it so taboo to talk about?
“It’s just the name given for two people who’ve exchanged names.”
“Do all mates perform the Bonding ritual?”
“No. Mate relationships are common, but Bonding rituals are rare. The ritual is performed as often by mates as it is by friends, enemies, and allies, but never without great cause. In any case, it’s uncommon. It’s always a component of sealing the treaty with a Chosen after a Reaping though.”
“Is there really nothing more to it? No candles or flowers or oaths?”
“These extravagances can be included in the ritual,” Aspen says, “but they aren’t a requirement. We could do it right now, if you wanted.”
My breath hitches. Am I ready for that? “Can I have a few hours first?”
He lifts my chin with his fingertips, bringing our eyes to meet. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t force you. That’s a promise I’m still willing to keep.”
I nod. “I just need a little more time to wrap my head around it.”
“I can give you time,” he says. “And I can give you another promise. I will never use the Bond to hurt you. I’ll never use your true name against you.”
His words send a wash of relief through me.
A flicker of worry crosses his face. “Can you promise me the same?”
My lips pull into a smile. I must admit, I like this vulnerability he’s been showing me. “Yes, Aspen, I promise you the same.”
He rolls, shifting me beneath him. “Then how about this.” He grins and kisses my neck. “We go to bed.” Another kiss, beneath my collarbone. “We get naked again.” Another kiss between my breasts. “We sleep.” Another. “Then we perform the ritual if you choose to. I’ll give you candles, flowers, a sunset view, and all the oaths you could want while we exchange our names.” His fingers stroke the inside of my thigh, creeping higher and higher.
Fire blazes at my core, and part of me wishes we could skip the returning to the palace part, but a comfortable bed is not something I can deny. “I can agree to that.”
Getting dressed is slow going, with every move thwarted by breathless kisses and roving hands. It’s a miracle we don’t reenact our entire night here and now. Eventually, we dress and make our way down the tunnel, Aspen’s fingers laced in mine. Farther down, we meet his guards. I’m glad they don’t react to our giddy mood as they follow us down the tunnel toward the palace.
My legs feel like water as we emerge from the tunnel and begin climbing the stairs, each flight taking us higher in the palace. We’re still several floors away from reaching our bedroom when I can no longer pretend I’m not out of breath. My fatigue is a combination of the endless stairs and all the energy spent over the course of our passion. I can’t help but wonder how much more fatigued I’ll feel an hour or two from now. The thought is oddly thrilling, although it doesn’t help me walk any faster.
Aspen must see me lagging, because next thing I know, he lifts behind my knees, sweeping me off my feet and into his arms. I secure my arms around his neck, laying my head on his shoulder. I’m reveling in his seemingly effortless strength when Aspen comes to a sudden halt.
“What happened?” calls a voice nearby. Cobalt is running toward us. “Is she all right?”
Aspen’s voice comes out cold. “She’s fine.”
“Then why—”
“My mate grew tired while climbing the stairs.”
“Well, where have you been?”
“With my mate.” Aspen’s tone holds an edge that makes the prince blanch.
Cobalt looks from me to Aspen, and I feel a pinch of sympathy for him.
“If you don’t mind, dear brother,” Aspen says, “we’ll be on our way.”
“Where are you going now?” Cobalt asks.
“You sure are full of questions.”
Cobalt narrows his eyes. “We’re supposed to be preparing for the council meeting.”
“We have time.”
“The preparations have already begun, since you couldn’t be found,” Cobalt says, tone darkening. “Besides, there are stacks of correspondences that have been piling on your desk since before you were injured. If you’d like me to attend to them in your stead, I’d be more than happy to, my king.” He says this last part with a hint of malice in his tone.
Aspen lets out an irritated grumble and sets me on my feet. He rubs his brow, then faces me, bringing his hands to my cheeks. “Change of plans.”
“It’s all right,” I say. Disappointment sinks my gut, but seeing Cobalt stripped me of all desire, anyway. “Do what you need to do.”
“Give me a few hours,” he says. “We’ll still have time to do everything we spoke of. Everything.”
At first, I think his emphasis is meant for the ritual. However, the mischief in his eyes says something else. I grin. “I’ll be waiting.”
He lights a kiss on my lips, a silent promise, then joins Cobalt.
With a sigh, I make my way back to our room alone.
After the warmth of Aspen’s arms, the bedroom feels cold, empty. Still, after a night on a stone floor, the bed looks inviting. I’m not sure how much time we spent sleeping in the cave, but my body tells me it wasn’t long. We were…preoccupied…most of the night.
With slow steps, I make my way to the wardrobe, exchanging my gown for a nightdress and placing my dagger on the dressing table. I stare longingly at the empty tub, wondering if I should find Lorelei and ask her to have it filled. No, there will be time for that later. Right now, sleep is calling.
I climb into bed and nestle beneath the covers. My mind spins with the realization that so much has changed in a matter of days. The man who I thought was my enemy is now my lover. The land I once despised will soon be a place I help rule. And the heart I thought would never open to any man, any king, any fae, is warm with contentment. Hungry with desire. Open for new forms of passion to emerge.
With a satisfied smile, I close my eyes and drift into
a peaceful sleep. It might be hours that pass, or it might be minutes, but I become subtly aware of a sound in the room, footsteps crossing the floor toward the bed. My heart flutters with anticipation, but I’m too tired to open my eyes. “Aspen?” The word comes out small and breathless.
A hand presses down hard on my mouth.
My eyes fly open, and I fight the hand that grasps me, but when my vision clears, the face overhead comes into focus. The fight leaves me. My heart leaps into my throat.
It’s Amelie.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I struggle to say Amelie’s name, but she keeps her hand clamped over my mouth. With her other hand, she brings a finger to her lips. I nod, and she releases me. I spring from the bed and wrap my arms around my sister’s neck, fighting the sobs that tear through me. “Amelie! For the love of iron, you’re alive.”
She hushes me. “Keep your voice down.”
I pull away from her. Her expression is panicked, something I’ve never seen on her normally serene, beautiful face. “What happened to you?”
She takes my hands in hers, an urgency in her tone. “We need to go.”
“Go where? Why?”
“You’re in danger. We need to leave now.”
“What kind of danger?”
Her voice is a furious whisper. “I can’t explain now, but you must come with me. Get dressed at once.”
I hurry to obey, my fear propelling my legs to the wardrobe. The thick fur cloak Amelie wears makes me think I should be dressing warm. Instead of one of the fae dresses, I unbury my old trousers and blouse from the back of the wardrobe and pull the pants over my legs. I don’t bother looking for my corset, and button the blouse over my bare chest. Next, I fetch a cloak and shove my feet into a pair of beaded slippers. Then I reach for my dagger.
“We don’t have time.” Amelie pulls my other arm. “Come on. Hurry.”
“I need my dagger,” I say as I shake from her grip. My fingers close over the sheath before she can pull at me again. I tuck it into the waist of my trousers as Amelie shoves me toward one of the crystalline walls. “Ami, what—”
Just then, she presses her hand to the wall, and a previously unseen door opens outward into darkness. Amelie pushes me through it, then closes the door behind us. I feel Amelie’s hand on my arm as she tugs me forward. “Hurry,” she whispers.
“Where are we going?”
“You aren’t safe.”
“But where are you taking us?”
Amelie doesn’t answer, just leads me down endless blackness with nothing but stairs beneath my feet. It’s a struggle not to trip on my slippers as she drags me down, down, farther down.
I’m reeling from the suddenness of it all. The strangeness. All I can think is that Aspen was right. There really has been a threat all along. And somehow, Amelie is saving me from it. But what about the king?
I continue to follow her, fighting the barrage of questions that rise inside me. Every word I say gets hushed by Amelie as she insists we must hurry. Danger. I’m not safe.
Finally, the stairs turn to the flat surface of a black tunnel floor, and a subtle light glows up ahead. It’s a pinkish light, and with it comes the smell of salt, a rumbling echo of sound. We draw nearer to the light, and the black cave walls melt into coral. Coral all around, knitted tightly together to form walls. A spray of water seeps through now and then, and I swear the roar of waves is coming from overhead.
A chill crawls up my spine as Amelie darts into the coral cave. “Ami, where’s Aspen?”
She turns around, eyes wide with terror. “Come on, Evie. Hurry.”
Now that she’s in the light, I can see my sister fully. Strands of kelp tangle in her copper hair, and a thin dress of seafoam silk covers her body. I look at what I’d first mistaken for a heavy fur cloak, realizing it’s something else entirely. The gray-brown mass of fur isn’t a cloak but a skin. A sealskin. The head is pulled back like a hood and the flippers are tied together like a clasp.
“What’s going on, Amelie?”
“You aren’t safe.”
My shoulders tremble as I look at her, look at the panic in her eyes, the pain on her face. “You keep saying that, but I need more. What am I in danger from? Where is Aspen?”
Her face crumples. “I can’t tell you.”
I take a few steps closer. “I’m your sister. You can tell me anything. Whatever is happening, I’ll listen. If you’ve gotten into any kind of trouble—”
“Just come with me.”
I look from her face to the head of the sealskin. “You took the skin from the selkie woman.”
Her eyes glaze with tears. “Nothing was supposed to turn out this way. I never meant for her to die. I left her my dress. She was supposed to wear it.”
I take a step away from her. “Why?”
“Evie, we don’t have time. Come.”
I shake my head, taking another step back.
Her chest heaves with a sob. “Don’t make me do this.”
“Do what?”
She lets out a wail of sorrow, then takes something from her side—a pink branch of coral set above a hilt of driftwood. That’s all I see before she lunges at me, swinging her blade while tears pour down her cheeks.
I dodge the coral blade, retreat from her, backing into the black cave until I slip on a pool of water. My feet fly out from under me and I sprawl on my back. “Ami, stop!”
My shout doesn’t deter her. She darts at me with her blade.
I roll to my side, letting my sister crash to the floor next to me. With one hand, I push myself to my feet. With the other, I retrieve my dagger.
Amelie stumbles to stand, then faces me. We circle each other, weapons between us. Neither of us know much about hand-to-hand combat, my sister less than anyone. Her distress shows on her face, wet with tears and contorted with endless sobbing.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say.
“I do.”
“Why? What happened?” But the answer is clear. “You’ve been glamoured.”
“I made a bargain.”
“With who?”
Her lips remain pressed tight.
Still, it isn’t hard to guess. “Melusine. But why? What could she possibly offer you?”
“Just come with me,” she begs. “Come with me willingly and I won’t have to hurt you.”
I take in her trembling limbs, her agonized expression. “I’m more worried about hurting you.”
“It will hurt me more if you don’t come with me. It’s the only way I can save you.”
I furrow my brow. “What did you bargain away?”
“My ability to lie. And my name.”
My eyes go wide. “What did you get in return?”
“Love.” With that, she runs at me with her coral blade.
I hardly have time to think. I spin to the side, feeling something sharp graze my ribs. She surges forward again, swinging her blade wildly. My dagger remains in hand, but I can’t bring myself to use it against her. Instead, I dart and dodge, crying out when the coral meets its mark again and again. Her attack is relentless, but her skill is weak. The best she can do is cut my flesh. She has no idea how to disarm me, much less land a killing blow. But even without skill, she could get lucky. If I don’t defend myself, it’s only a matter of time before my strength fades, before my ability to dodge becomes compromised.
I have to fight her.
I block the next blow with my dagger, knocking her hand to the side. She comes at me again. Again. I stumble back, dodge left, swipe at her arm. She shouts as my blade makes a cut, but she isn’t deterred. Perhaps it’s the glamour fueling her, but she’s tireless, unconcerned with every cut I land on her. I, on the other hand, feel my arms growing weaker, my side a searing ache where her blade had grazed.
This must end.
Amelie rushes at me again. I dodge, sending her reeling forward. Before she can recover her momentum, I step behind her. Raising my elbow, I meet the back of her head with a shar
p jab.
Her body goes limp and she slides to the floor. I cry out as I help catch her fall, wincing as I strain the side of my body that was cut. Without bothering to check my own injuries, I hover over Amelie, testing her pulse, her breathing.
She’s alive.
I let out a sigh and close my eyes, pondering the best way to bring her back to the palace. There’s no way I can carry her up all those steps. Panic rises in my chest.
“Amelie.”
I turn my head and find Cobalt emerging from the black cave, eyes locked on my sister. “Thank the Great Mother you’re here,” I say, tears pouring down my cheeks. “Help me carry her. Please.”
His eyes slide to mine. “I’m so sorry Evelyn.”
I’m taken aback, not sure what he’s apologizing for. Does he not realize Amelie is alive?
Then he leaps forward and grabs me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I wake gasping for breath, coughing water onto a small, sodden cot. My throat feels raw, and all I can taste is salt. I remember Cobalt charging me, the clasp of his hands around me. Then all I saw was water, felt it pouring into my throat and lungs. I cough again and drag my aching body to sit. All around me are coral bars, sharp and pink, woven together at the top to create a cage.
My hands fly to my waist, my thigh, searching for my dagger and finding it nowhere.
“I’m sorry I had to do this, Evelyn,” Cobalt says from the other side of the bars. I know it’s him even though he hardly looks like the Cobalt I’ve known. His skin is covered in shimmering blue scales, making his body look lithe and sinuous. A crown of red coral sits over his brow while delicate webs stretch between each finger and toe. Gone are his boyish good looks, replaced with the terrifying beauty of the sea.
This must be his nix form.
The realization startles me. When the fae talked about shifting their physical forms from seelie to unseelie, I thought it could be nothing more than a mental shift, adapting the behavior of lesser creatures. The greatest physical change I imagined was subtle, like a chameleon altering its color. At most, I thought perhaps the fae underwent animalistic metamorphoses over time, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. But this…this is something else. He actually changed. Where the bloody iron is my logic for that?
To Carve a Fae Heart (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 1) Page 24
