by D. N. Hoxa
“I’m sorry, so sorry, I’m sorry…” the fae said, breathing rapidly, while his pain, his wounds consumed my soul.
“It’s okay. It's okay. You’re okay, breathe,” the prince said. “You're going to be okay.”
“No…no, I’m not,” the fae said, and though I couldn't move my eyes to see his face, I felt his on mine. “Tell…tell Alma I love her, will you? And tell my mother to rot in hell.”
“I will,” the prince said, bringing his forehead to Trinam’s. “I will, just stay with me. A little longer.”
“It’s over,” Trinam whispered, laying his head back on the pillow. My strength was leaving me. My magic no longer wanted to be inside him. It wanted to come back home to me. “It’s over. Let me be. It’s finally over.” He sounded so relieved it made my tears rush out faster.
“Come on, Trinam. Who’s going to piss me off if you’re not here?” said the prince, but his voice shook, like he was about to start crying, too.
Trinam tried to laugh. Instead, blood came out of his mouth.
“It’s over,” he repeated in a whisper, over and over again.
“We’ll meet again, you hear me?” the prince said. “We’ll meet again in a better life.”
“S-s-see…” the fae whispered and his eyes closed.
I couldn’t take it anymore. My magic snapped into me like rubber, and it threw me off the man and to the floor. I breathed deeply, feeling as if my lungs hadn’t tasted air in a thousand years. My heart wanted to fly out of me, and my whole body shook.
Hiss was beside me, wrapping himself around my torso while I held myself up with my hands and watched the prince. His friend was gone. He no longer moved or breathed at all. He was dead.
The prince put his head over his shoulder and stayed like that for a long time. Little by little, my strength returned to me and my legs held me when I stood up, Hiss still wrapped around me.
I wanted to go to the prince, touch him, heal him of his own wounds that weren’t nearly as serious as his friend’s. But I didn't dare. Something stopped me, something that whispered to me that he needed a moment to himself. With his friend.
Asking the Shade for warmth when I sat down on the floor by the window wasn’t necessary. When I sat, the stone was already warm. I wrapped my arms around myself, unsure whether I wanted to hug Hiss or just myself, and I watched the prince.
Eventually, he raised his head.
The prince didn't look at me. He stood up and his legs shook—I could see it as clear as day because the Shade had turned seven small blue lights on in the room. I hadn’t even noticed them until now.
The prince took his friend’s body in his arms and went for the door. He pulled it open and walked outside without looking back. His pain was so great, it weighed my shoulders down. Hiss unwrapped himself from me and slithered his way to the door, pushing it closed with his tail.
A cry escaped me. So much pain. So much of my own magic’s pressure to take it, and my body’s weakness to endure it. I hid my face between my arms and tried to focus on breathing. The dead fae had been right—it was over. But his life would remain my burden for the rest of my days.
The cold air blew on my face and I breathed in the scent of it. It wasn’t anything in particular, but when I did ask the Shade for a certain smell, like the smell of strawberries, it brought it to me. I asked it for the smell of my father’s garden, too. It didn't deliver—possibly because that garden was far away from here, very far away from the Shade.
I hung onto the vines creeping up the left wall outside of the windows. I’d done it before—three times now, and they held my weight without trouble. The day had been more beautiful from out here, but the night was so full of mystery, it took my breath away. Anything could be out there, anything at all, if you were brave enough to imagine it.
“Are you done yet?” asked Hiss from the window stool. He wasn’t comfortable with my hanging onto old vines, looking out at Gaena without any restriction. I didn't mind the height. I didn't mind knowing that a fall could kill me, bring my heart to a point where it no longer wanted to heal. Like the fae Trinam’s.
When the door opened, I didn’t loosen my grip on the vine. I looked behind me, through the windows and inside, and saw the prince searching the room with his eyes.
He found Hiss first, sitting there on the stone, and then his eyes moved up and he found me.
His face was clean of blood now, and the Shade lights were close enough to him that I saw when his expression turned to shock. He pushed the door closed behind him and slowly came closer to the windows.
Had he done it? Had he buried his friend already? I didn’t know what time it was or how much time had passed since he’d taken the body out, but it was still dark.
“What are you doing, Taran?” he whispered, and the wind almost took away his words.
“Watching the night,” I said and turned my head the other way again. I couldn’t look at him without feeling like a failure. I had let him down. He’d brought his friend to me, and I’d failed to keep him alive.
“Can you watch the night from in here? Come on, come inside,” the prince said. “Please, just come inside.”
“The vines can hold me,” I reassured him because he sounded afraid.
“I know, just…just come inside. It’s too far a fall. Come on,” he said and reached out both his hands toward me, as if he couldn't see how far away I was.
I started climbing the vines to my side and slowly made my way inside the room. It wasn't as hard as it looked. The vines—or the Shade—held me up without trouble. In no time, I stepped onto the stool of the first window and jumped inside the room. The prince closed his eyes and a long breath left him.
He no longer wore his armor, but his clothes were torn and bloody. His face and hands were clean, but his body wasn’t. When he looked at me, he suffocated me with desperation. His pain hit me square in the chest, intending to ruin me if I let it. My magic responded instantly. I pushed it back with all my strength.
“Why are you always looking out there?” he asked.
“Because it’s beautiful.” Gaena was the most beautiful land the gods had ever created.
“There’s nothing beautiful about this place, Taran,” he said, shaking his head. “And who is he?” He pointed at the snake watching him from the window.
I expected Hiss to say something, but he didn't speak.
“That’s Hiss. He’s a friend,” I said, and just then, Hiss jumped off the stool, showing off his black wings, before he hit the floor and started slithering his way to me. He climbed up my leg and made his place around my torso, his head coming up my back to rest on my shoulder.
The prince looked at us like he wasn't sure whether to believe his eyes.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your friend,” I forced myself to say. “His heart was too far gone.”
“Don’t apologize. You did your best. I thank you for that, for those few minutes you gave him,” he said with a nod.
I looked away from him, feeling like a fraud. I’d given his friend borrowed time, that's all.
“Is it done? Is he buried?”
But the prince shook his head. “I will not be burying him here. He will be taken back home in the morning, to be buried next to his family.”
That made me feel a little bit better.
“Are you okay, Taran?” he asked me, looking down at my dress that was now smeared with his friend’s blood. I’d washed off all I could, but some remained.
“I am fine. You’re not,” I said. I could feel the pain in his body. Most of his wounds had already healed, but the pain in his soul was as loud as ever.
“But I will be,” he said and started for the bathroom. “All I need is sleep.”
He didn't ask me to heal him. He didn’t want me to have his pain.
I nodded and stepped aside to make way. “Then you sleep on the bed."
"No, I do—” But I wouldn’t have it.
“I insist,” I said and went to s
it down on the floor. The cold wasn’t a concern—the stone was still warm, and Hiss’s body kept me more than comfortable when he was wrapped around me like that.
We both watched the prince take off his clothes, bathe himself, and then get into bed. All the cuts on his body had closed, but the pain hung on his skin still. I used it as distraction from the greater one, coming from within him.
He didn't say another word, the prince. He simply pulled the white sheets now covered with blood off the bed and lay there on the bare mattress.
Soon, his breathing was even, and his mind was unconscious. I rested my head on my knees and watched him with Hiss, until sleep took me, too.
Chapter 28
“Pain Seeker,” the voice whispered in my ear. The extended s made it very clear to me who it was, and I opened my eyes to ten small ones, staring right at me.
I sat up, completely disoriented for a second. Where was I? What had happened?
The stone floor underneath me, still warm, gave me a good idea. The fae lying on his bed, moaning as he turned his head to the sides, answered all those questions for me.
“He’s in pain,” Hiss whispered, slithering closer to the bed of the prince. “Can you help him?”
“I can.” I wanted to.
Hiss turned to me again, curiosity filling all of his golden eyes. “Tell me, how far does a Pain Seeker's power extend?”
I rubbed my eyes to chase the sleep away while my chest grew heavier by the second. My magic was perfectly aware of all the pain in the prince’s body, and it wouldn’t be long now before the pressure to take it began. The sun was just rising, the room orange with the first sunrays. The blue lights of the Shade were no longer in sight.
“I can heal. I can take pain away from a body,” I said to Hiss. He was right in front of me again, licking the air coming out of my lips.
“You can give life, too,” he said in wonder. “What did you do to that dying man earlier?”
I looked up at the bed, sure the prince would be up and watching us, but no. He was still asleep. Still writhing in pain. I lowered my voice.
“I can’t give life. Nobody can do that. I gave him my energy to extend his for a few moments—that’s all.”
“What more can you do?” Hiss said, and it made me very uncomfortable. Nobody knew the answer he was looking for. Our records only spoke about a handful of Pain Seekers, and they all said the same about the magic.
“Nothing. I take pain. I heal. I kill.” I pushed myself up on the wall and made it to my feet, for some reason expecting my body to be too weak to hold me. It wasn’t.
“Kill how? How do you take a life?” Hiss whispered, rising up on his tail until his head reached my chest. His hood wrapped around his head, too, giving him an eerie look—like he was someone else altogether.
“By turning the body against itself.” By forcing a heart to stop beating.
“What else? What else can you make a body do?”
“Everything,” I breathed, but I was no longer focused on him. All my attention was on the prince, on his pain. My legs took me to the bed, and I watched him. His skin glistened with sweat. His brows were narrowed, lips parted as he turned from one side to the other, letting out weak moans every now and again.
Hiss didn’t say anything else. He only watched me slip into the bed, by the prince. His back was turned to me. His pain called, whispered my name, lured me to it. My arm fell over the prince’s side, and I dragged myself closer until his skin was less than an inch away from me. My hand stretched out, searching for his chest. My magic was ready, eager to leave my fingers, slip into the prince and heal him—when he grabbed my hand.
His was warmer than mine for once. His fever made his skin burn.
“Don’t,” the prince whispered. “Don’t heal me. I need to feel it.”
His words hung in the air, refusing to make sense to me. Who wanted pain, except for me? Who wanted to drown in the despair it brought?
The prince didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he brought it to his lips and kissed the tips of my fingers, then put it to his chest and held it against his heart. The need for his pain drove me mad for a second.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save him,” I whispered again, and I had the feeling that a million sorries weren't going to be enough to lighten the weight of his friend’s life.
“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” the prince said, his voice thick with sleep, with fever. “Do you know how many die every day?”
I knew.
My magic wasn’t going to take this time. If the prince wanted the pain, he would keep it, no matter how hard I had to fight against myself to let it go. My magic demanded release, but I held it back with all my strength and focused on the prince’s back, all the five scars that I could see, the warmth of his body, the way he held my hand against his chest, like a desperate man. I moved closer until our bodies were one, and I pressed my cheek against his back.
Like that, I finally did what Hiss wanted me to do: I prayed.
When my eyes opened this time, only two were staring back at me—two black ones, as rich as the night sky hiding an entire universe behind it. The prince was awake, and he was no longer burning with fever. I knew because his arms were wrapped around me, and mine around him. He looked down at me like he was seeing me for the first time. He didn't speak—there was no need for words. We already knew.
His arm unwrapped from around my waist and his hand closed around my cheek. His fingers caressed my skin for a while. My hand moved up his arm, his silky-smooth skin, over the curves of his muscles, up to the side of his neck. The overwhelming desire to stay like this forever, in his arms, in the center of his attention, set my whole body on fire.
The closer he brought his lips to me, the more impatient I became. His pain was there, and my magic still wanted it, but not as much as my heart, my body wanted his. It was easy to ignore the world and its troubles when his skin touched mine. Easy to pretend that nothing mattered, not even war and death.
He kissed me gently, like he was afraid this was a fantasy, and he didn't want it to end. It felt like a fantasy, but it was more real than any reality I had lived in a long time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me harder, needing to feel all of him. I kissed him like I had never kissed anyone before, and I realized that Hiss had been right—this kiss wasn’t just a kiss.
It felt exactly like a beginning instead.
His tongue slid over the surface of my lips and slipped between them, meeting mine. There was still too much space between us for my liking, so I pulled him until he was on top of me, his body flush against mine. My legs wrapped around his hips and letting go of him now seemed a worse fate than being chained to a wall. The kiss deepened, rendering me thoughtless, and he held onto me like he couldn’t fathom letting go, either. His hands were everywhere on me, igniting my skin, his kisses as pure as a promise.
Every once in a while, I opened my eyes to see his face, the hungry look in his eyes. My hands traced every line of his back, my fingers tangled in his pitch-black hair, my body yearning for his in a way it never had before. He pulled my undergarment up. I raised my arms so he could take it off me completely, and that short second of not kissing him, not holding him, was torture. He pressed himself against me again, and I breathed, my hands impatient to feel every inch of him. He let go of my lips once more and traced kisses down my neck, on my chest. He took my breast in his mouth and a cry escaped me, so honest it shocked even me. The sight of his hands sliding on my skin, grabbing me, caressing me, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. He kissed and bit and licked his way down to my stomach, grabbing my thighs with his huge hands, fingers digging into my skin as he pulled them farther apart. Every time his lips pressed on my skin, he filled me a little more.
He raised to his knees and pulled my underwear down my legs. Then he took off his own underwear, the only item of clothing he’d had on. I had seen him naked before, but now, it was different. The sun burned behind his
back, drenching him in glowing light. If I could freeze time the way I froze a body, I would hold onto this second forever.
This beautiful, tortured, kind man put himself at my mercy, and he said it loud and clear with his eyes, with his hands, with his kisses. He didn't care about the color of my eyes or the shape of my ears. He didn't care about my name, who I was, where I came from. Whether I was a maid or a queen made no difference to him—he gave himself to me completely, and from that moment on, I would forever be his.
When he pushed himself inside me, pleasure I had never known before took over my body. It was more powerful than even my magic. We moved together, pushing and pulling, touching and kissing like the end of the world was near, and all we would ever have was this moment. He swallowed my moans with his mouth and inspired new ones with his hands. My legs were locked around his hips and every time he buried himself inside me, I held on tighter.
We kept going until every inch of our bodies was covered in sweat, sizzling with pleasure.
For that day, we were each other’s, and it was a truth that no king and no army could ever change.
Chapter 29
Mace held me to his chest like he'd done it a million times before. He knew every curve of my body, his hand pressed against my lower back, the other holding my leg over his hip. He looked at me like he knew me, too. Like we’d already spent a lifetime together.
I traced every line of his face with my fingertips, committing it to memory. The sun was high in the sky now, and sunlight no longer streamed through the windows, but there was enough light to see every detail. His pain wasn't as great as it had been, though it was still there. It had been a lot easier than I imagined to keep my magic at bay. Easy when he was so close, our naked bodies pressed together, our faces barely an inch apart.
“Tell me your name,” he whispered and kissed the tip of my nose. Even though he was a Winter fae, his skin was burning hot still.
