I stared down at his hold, wishing others could see it for the gentleness it was, for the control it took with strength like his. I saw him through a different lens, turning my stare up to his face as he met my eyes sadly.
Something wet splashed against my cheek, startling me as I turned to look at Skye. She wiped her mouth of spit with the back of her hand. “You didn’t know? That doesn’t seem to have stopped you from making loving eyes at him now. Spare me your fucking lies, you Fae-fucking whore.”
I reached up, wiping the spit off my cheek with trembling fingers. I reached forward, grasping her by the shirt and using it to clean my skin of the traces of her abuse. I said not a word, not bothering to waste my breath as she watched me pointedly, waiting for the response that I would not give.
“Do you have nothing to say for yourself?” she asked, pulling her shirt out of my grasp and crossing her arms over her chest.
“I encountered less judgment from the man who caned me when I failed to please him,” I said simply, keeping my expression blank. “But he taught me one valuable lesson. There is nothing I can say to lessen your hatred, because it exists within you. It is not about me at all, but about you as a person and who you will never be.”
“Am I supposed to strive to be like you? To stand there and allow myself to be his pet?” she asked, leaning into the side of the man next to her as Caldris finally released him. My mate kept quiet, not offering me a word of defense.
I was glad for it, knowing that, if I was truly to be an equal at his side, then there were some battles I needed to be able to fight for myself. “I would never tell you to be like me. I would advise you to find love in your heart, to find patience and understanding, even if I am incapable of it myself. Because as we’ve stood here having this worthless conversation that I will not bother to remember in a few days’ time, I’ve already imagined a dozen different ways I could kill you,” I said, watching as her eyes rounded with shock. She swallowed, glancing at Caldris out of the corner of her eye. “I do not need the God of the Dead to fight my battles with a human woman; I would do it myself. So no, Skye. Don’t be like me. Be better than me.”
“The God of the…” she trailed off, her eyes flashing back to Caldris as she stumbled back out of the man’s hold. It wasn’t surprising that those of the Resistance didn’t recognize him. The portraits of him were hidden away in the library of the lower level, where none seemed to go because of their inability to read.
“Do come visit us in Alfheimr, Skye! Caldris and I would love to repay the kindness you’ve shown us during our time here,” I called as she disappeared into the watching crowd. It swallowed her whole, taking her as far away from the threat of the God and his violent mate as she could manage.
“I will make sure you regret this one day,” the man said to Caldris, turning his attention back to him once Skye was gone from view.
Caldris grunted, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he stared down at the man. There was nothing hostile in his expression, only a resigned truth. “Your lifespan is the blink of an eye. I will rest my head tonight, and by the time I think of you again, you’ll already be dead.”
The man’s mouth snapped closed. It was not easy to be faced with the reality of our own mortality, with the fact that while we could die easily, the Fae had lived for countless centuries. Many of them would continue to live centuries more, and the Primordials—who some of them were the very children of—had been alive before the dawn of creation.
“We intend to leave you in peace when we depart. There is no reason that our relationship needs to extend beyond this day,” I said, taking the man’s attention off of Caldris.
Caelum. The more I reached out to him with an open heart, the more I longed to separate the man I loved from the legend who controlled the dead. Even if only in my own mind.
“You are taking some of us from our home by force. We will never part as anything but enemies,” the man said, his glare unsettling me as he turned his face down to the shackles on my wrists. “How can you wear those? How can you willingly stand beside someone who would treat you as a prisoner?”
“Because even though I may be shackled, he’s offered me more freedom than any of the humans in my past have,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. Even if Melian had wanted to promise me a life where I’d be free to make my choices, I would have been trapped within the walls of the Resistance.
Freedom of will came within a cage in Nothrek.
Caelum would do whatever he had to do to make sure that I could roam freely through Alfheimr, and that kind of freedom was something that I would never be able to find in the human realm.
My mate grunted, drawing the man’s attention back to him with a startled look. “Where is the witch?” he asked, looking over the other man’s head for a sign of the breathtaking woman with the hair that glowed like moonlight.
“I am here, Caldris,” she said, stepping out from the group of Fae Marked who surrounded her. She clasped her hands in front of her, hanging her head low as she moved through the crowd that parted for her. Whether it was out of respect or hatred, I couldn’t tell, but the emotion that clogged my throat as I realized the truth must have only been a hint of the betrayal they felt.
“You knew who he was all along, didn’t you?” I asked when she finally stopped before us, her moonlit-night gaze finding mine and holding it.
“I did,” she agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “We’ve met before, a very long time ago. The Lunar Witches are close with his mother, Twyla, as she is the Goddess of the Moon.” She reached out, touching her fingers to mine and raising them so that she could inspect the darkness that tainted my skin. Hers were stained with black, stars glimmering as if she’d dipped them into the night sky itself and managed to trap them within her skin. All too similar to mine, but the stars on mine were far subtler, as if the shadows of the night had been far more prevalent on the evening I touched the sky. “What is this?” she asked, turning my hand over in her grip.
“We aren’t sure; there must be something in my lineage—”
“You are a child of the dark. Whatever is in your lineage must have an association with that magic for you to bear this mark. Your mate is aware of that,” she said, turning a glare his way as if she could force him to wither on the spot with only a look.
“Yes,” he said, drawing out the word as if it was an admission in itself. “But that could be any manner of creature.”
“It could, and the markings are not consistent. Two siblings with the same lineage could have entirely different manifestations. This is only one symptom,” she said, dropping my hand to my side. “You were looking for me. What is it you require?”
“When we spoke before, you confirmed that Mab’s daughter was brought here after the construction of the Veil. I have to take her back to Alfheimr with me,” Caldris said, and Imelda squeezed her eyes closed.
“And if I am unable to provide you with the information you seek?” she asked, her fingers twitching at her sides. I could almost feel the pulse of power as she maneuvered her hands carefully, drawing a subtle pattern on her thigh.