Killian’s eyes widened. “This is your room, isn’t it?”
Fedya paused, but he didn’t answer. He lowered his head more and continued to wrap. Killian stood up, taking it all in. It was all there. The gilded, intricate mirrors and patterned wallpaper. He could hear it now, the whistle of the train conductor and the hundreds of tiny silver bells. He took a step forward and the flavor of sausage and bitter ale prickled his tongue. Eskor.
His eyes slid to the piano, and on the bench sat a tiny, wax flower, its petals wilted and misshapen.
“My…”
He felt it in his hand, the wax soft and warm, the wooden handle of the blade, the heat of the fire on his face. He had been there. He’d seen it. He saw the people, the streets, the buildings. All of it poured into his memory, ringing, clanging, yelling.
He remembered Fedya’s gaze, how sweet it had been, for just one moment. He hadn’t noticed it back then, just a flash, until the vehicle lunged forward and they careened straight into the fountain.
Killian’s eyes widened. “Your Shielders,” he whispered.
Fedya lifted his head, frowning. “What?”
Killian’s mind raced. Jolts of excitement sizzled down his body, and all at once he was out of breath again, as though he was back on those icy streets, the wind whipping his hair back from his face. His hands trembled, but he didn’t care.
“Your Shielders,” he repeated. “Don’t you remember? We stole an automobile because you didn’t want to go back. Neither of us knew how to drive but it didn’t matter, we got away.”
Fedya eyed him warily, hesitating before he slowly shook his head. Yet when he spoke, his voice was surprisingly gentle. “Killian, I think you hurt yourself.”
“No.” Killian shook his head. “No, listen to me. I was with you, I was there, in Eskor.”
The kindness fled Fedya’s voice as quickly as it had come. He looked back down, glaring down at the floor. “You have never been to Eskor.”
“I have.” Killian stepped in front of him, blocking the fire. “Fedya, I promise you, I was there.”
He grabbed both Fedya’s hands, squeezing them tight, and leaned in closer. “I was there. I was with you, and so was Dmitri.”
Fedya’s expression changed instantly. “Dmitri is dead.”
His words sliced like a blade between them, and Fedya jerked his hands out of Killian’s grasp. Killian’s fingers yearned for Fedya’s touch, but Fedya stood up from the stool, snatching up his jacket from the bed, turning to the door.
“Fedya, please, you have to believe me. It happened. There was a palace, and so many people. I saw everything. I saw you—”
“You saw nothing!” Fedya spun around to face him. “You had a dream! A nightmare! Whatever it was, it never really happened.”
The crackle of the flames popped like firecrackers, each crack and hiss plucking his nerves, and no matter how he tried, Killian could not stop shivering. Even as Fedya yelled, his words seething with fury, Killian saw no sign of the beast inside. Instead, his large brown eyes betrayed him. He was afraid, and there was nothing more he could say or do to hide it.
Killian’s heartbeat pounded in his ears, but he drew in a long breath that scratched his dry throat. When he forced himself to speak, his voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else.
“There was a building where everyone gathered, and you were making a speech. I saw you on the stage.”
“I do not make speeches.”
“You were wearing blue and had on a gold and ruby crown,” Killian pressed on. “The same one Dmitri was wearing the night we were engaged.”
“That’s not my crown to wear. I would never put it on.”
“You said your parents had died.”
Fedya fell silent. A hard lump burrowed deep in Killian’s chest, blocking his throat. Fedya shrank back from him.
“How do you know that?”
Killian didn’t answer. Fedya drew in a shaky breath, turning back to stare at the fireplace. The sound of crackling flames filled the room, overwhelmingly loud until Fedya finally spoke.
“Since his death, I have wished for nothing more than to see him again. In a dream, a memory. But when I try to remember him, his face is a blur,” Fedya said quietly. He looked down at his hands. “He hides himself from me, just as my parents do. Only now I know it’s because he blames me for his death.”
Killian tensed. “Dmitri’s death was an accident.”
“It wasn’t! It’s because I wished for it!” Fedya spun around to face him. “Don’t you understand? Dmitri gave me everything. Despite our differences and the constant pressure he was under, he always put me first. But I was never as good as him. I could never live up to everything he achieved.”
Fedya had begun to shiver, but this time when Killian placed his hands on his shoulders, he didn’t pull away. His eyes glistened as he tried to look back to the fire, but he couldn’t stay still.
“Dmitri wanted nothing but my happiness. And this is how I repaid him.” Fedya’s hands clenched into fists. “That fairy knew. I don’t know how, but when she looked at me I knew she could see it all. She saw what I was inside. My ungratefulness. My fear of being forever in his shadow.”
He closed his eyes, his body shuddering. But as he fell quiet, Killian clenched his jaw.
“That’s not true,” Killian hissed. Fedya’s eyes flashed back open.
“If that was what you really wanted, we wouldn’t be here right now. Maybe you envied Dmitri, or maybe you were just afraid of everything changing again. But you can’t let your guilt warp the love that you had for him. Don’t let this take that away from you.”
Fedya stared at him, wavering, soundless. Then he reached for Killian and in a moment his body crumpled, and a broken sob burst out. Killian caught him before he fell, holding him close as the sound of his ragged cries filled the room.
Somehow the sight of Fedya’s tears was even more jarring than his laughter. But as Fedya leaned into his chest, Killian welcomed them, embracing him whole until Fedya’s strength returned and familiar lips pressed against his neck.
He pulled back with a gasp, but Fedya pulled him in again, his grip strong and his kiss even stronger, and Killian no longer resisted. He welcomed it instead, yearning for more, desperate to taste every inch of Fedya’s fiery hot skin. He pulled Fedya closer and their bodies tangled together. The walls and floor gave way to silken sheets and feather pillows and naked flesh pressed against naked flesh.
Killian panted for air, but he refused to pull away. Fedya’s appetite was far more voracious than he could have ever imagined, and he refused to deny him. His body quivered, his nerves crackling until his vision filled with lights and he sought out Fedya with his hands, sliding his fingers across every curve and crevice.
He waited for Fedya’s lips to return, heart thundering, every shaky inhalation sending tremors cascading down his spine. His fingertips danced across Fedya’s bare chest, smiling as goosebumps rose in their wake. Fedya met his lips again, fiery and unstoppable.
But as Killian leaned in, he saw the dried streaks of fallen tears, and he stopped. “Wait.”
Barely a whisper, but enough to stop Fedya without pause. His words floated around them, wrapping around them like an embrace. Beads of sweat prickled Fedya’s forehead, illuminated by the waning firelight as he lay in the crook of Killian’s arms. Their bodies pressed close together.
“Not like this.” He wiped away the last of the tears on Fedya’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You won’t want to remember it like this.”
Fedya searched his eyes, still breathing hard. He was out of breath, but he didn’t persist. Instead the last of his energy seemed to seep out of him, and his body fell heavy.
“I remember you. In Eskor.”
He expected the words to sound surprising. Shocking. But instead Killian’s gaze dropped to Fedya’s chest, and he saw the long scar that trailed up to his collarbone, ja
gged and thick. He remembered the first time he saw it, what Fedya had said.
An accident.
Killian’s eyes flicked back up. Fedya breathed faster, strained. “The first time I saw you, it felt like waking up from a dream. I couldn’t be sure if you had ever really existed, or if I had imagined everything.”
Slowly, Killian nodded. “I never wanted to leave you so suddenly. I wanted to help you.”
“I know.” Fedya gritted his teeth, but no matter how quickly he blinked, it couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down his cheeks. “I wanted so badly for you to be real, but it was like no one even remembered you.”
Fedya lowered his head and Killian wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He wished he could have been there, broken and bloodied. It didn’t matter. It would have all been worth it if it meant Fedya hadn’t been alone. He couldn’t let this happen to Fedya again. Not now. Not ever.
Fedya pressed in, resting his forehead against Killian’s chest until the tension slowly seeped from his body. But even then, he didn’t move away. “I’m sorry for blaming you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Killian nodded and gently kissed the top of his head. He never pulled away, never let Fedya feel anything less than safe, and after a few minutes Fedya’s breathing grew steady and deep. Killian sighed, closed his eyes, and held Fedya tight. “Good night.”
K
illian didn’t dream of Grimbeasts that night.
There were deer out in the gardens the next morning. Killian watched them from the window, the glass fogging up with his breath. Dainty flecks of snow had begun to fall, but inside, the fire filled every inch of the room in cozy heat. Killian smiled and let the blanket fall from around his shoulders, pressing into the cool glass.
He’d wanted to wake Fedya for the sunrise, but the sky was already a soft gray when he’d opened his eyes. Fedya hadn’t stirred as Killian pulled himself out of bed, his breathing slow and steady. Killian had to resist the urge to stare at him, but it was difficult not to. Fedya was still human. A perfectly normal, completely regular yet somehow altogether extraordinary human.
Fedya let out another loud snore and Killian grinned. It somehow wasn’t surprising that Fedya snored like a bear. Killian pulled away from the window and quietly shrugged into his coat and boots. Tugging a scarf around his neck, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Fedya’s forehead. Fedya only sighed and turned over, shoving his face deeper into his pillow. Killian smiled.
The deer had wandered out to the fence by the time Killian stepped outside. Small tufts of grass were beginning to sprout through the snow, the sun feeling warmer than it had in days. He grinned as he watched them, heading over to the stable.
Killian’s horse pawed at the ground as he approached. He took his time saddling her up, breathing in deep the comforting scent of hay and grain. He worked his fingers through the coarse, tangled hair, until the animal’s mane and tale were as smooth as silk, braiding the strands. It felt good to get back in the saddle again. Familiar. Safe.
He didn’t hear any bells that morning.
The deer were gone by the time he exited the stable. He peered across the grounds, and paused when he reached the fallen tree tangled in the broken fence. That’s how they must have gotten in. He kept close to the mansion, always keeping the window to Fedya’s bedroom in sight.
After half an hour, beads of sweat cooled against his forehead, his heart racing in exhilaration. Icy wind clawed through his hair, and he wanted to close his eyes, ride off forever. But then he peeked back to Fedya’s window, and any longing for running away instantly disappeared.
He took his time bringing the mare back inside. There was a sense of relief as he swiped the brush in quick, sharp movements across her damp coat. The smell of sweat and leather mixed together, lulling him into a calm he’d almost forgotten he was capable of. He didn’t think, just brushed, the methodical movement soothing.
It felt so normal here now. Like he’d lived his whole life within these strange walls, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until it was gone. Or maybe it wasn’t the mansion that he’d been missing. He set the brush down and stared down the row of empty stalls, but it didn’t feel lonely. Not anymore. He gave the mare a final pat and smiled. He could be happy here.
He locked the barn door after him, but didn’t make his way back inside just yet. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and through the iron bars he saw the deer again, three of them now, like long-legged phantoms delicately picking their way through the snow. Though he was still far, Killian sucked in a breath and crept toward them.
One lifted its head, looking around before staring straight at him. Killian stared back. The deer stopped chewing and bolted off into the trees, taking the others along with it. Killian laughed as he straightened up. “Oh well.”
Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket mirror. It hadn’t changed since he’d returned from Eskor. No radiating warmth or glowing lights. It was just an ordinary mirror, and he ran his thumb across the front, flicking it open and closed absently. Killian looked around, back at where the deer had raced off to, but they were long gone.
He paused as he spotted the familiar cobblestone trail leading into the hedges. They looked taller than before, the top branches clawing the sky, and when the wind whipped by, he could still hear the faint chimes of the tiny flowers within. Snapping the mirror shut, he wandered a few more steps, still eyeing the iron fence where the deer had scattered off.
The fallen tree was now covered in a thick layer of fresh snow, the soft flecks softening the twisted remains of broken metal. Without thinking he walked over to it, his stomach sinking the closer he came, but he couldn’t turn away from it. It was almost as if he’d expected the fence to mend itself, fusing the bars together, the trunk lifted back upright as if nothing had ever happened at all. Only this time everything had stayed the same, and it was almost hard to believe how easily his cage had fallen apart.
The image of the Grimbeast flashed in his mind, and Killian swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t a cage at all, but a barrier. He shook away the memory of the squirming creature trapped in Fedya’s iron grip, and turned to leave. A puff of yellow smoke curled in around him, warm and damp. A rancid stench filled his nostrils and his stomach curdled. Killian’s breath hitched; it wasn’t smoke. He spun around.
The Grimbeast sat hunched on top of the fallen tree, sickly pallid eyes locked on him. A long, deep red tongue slipped out between its fangs and slowly it licked its human-like lips. Killian recognized the grinning creature, and he tried not to glance down at the tufts of fur ripped from its throat.
“Hello, little prince.”
Killian barely registered its voice, thick and raspy, before the Grimbeast lunged at him. It knocked solidly into his chest, its large paws swiping in the air as they crashed into the snow. He gasped and kicked out, reaching for the tree as he struggled to right himself.
A thick, meaty hand clasped around the back of Killian’s neck, shoving him face-first into the fence. The air rolled out of his lungs, and a stream of something warm trickled down into his eyes. Killian gasped, trying to twist his head as the hand tightened its grip. A toothy grin sneered back at him, the eyes of the Grimbeast flashed in excitement. The creature stood on its hind legs like a man, its muscles beginning to bulge as it clamped down tighter. Killian’s vision went hazy.
A flicker of shadow snuck into the corner of his eye. Another Grimbeast. And then another, and another, until they lined the fence and crawled atop the fallen tree absolutely everywhere and there was nowhere left to look.
Then he heard a sound that made his skin crawl and his stomach heave. A low, guttural noise, like the dying breaths of a slaughtered pig, pressed up against his ear. The Grimbeast jerked back its arm, and slammed Killian again into the fence, and the surrounding beasts erupted into snarling laughter. His hands dangled by his sides, useless as the shock paralyzed him.
“No one to rescue you this time.”
He didn’t recognize the words at first, the sound of grinding bones and screeching infants filling his head. But the demon leaned in and spoke again. “Keep your eyes open.”
With a squealing howl the Grimbeast lunged at his throat. Killian wheezed, and with every ounce of strength he could muster, he wrenched away from the beast’s gaping jaws.
It hardly worked. Long, sharp teeth scraped his cheek, and the Grimbeast slammed his face into the fence again. Laughter erupted all around them. Killian’s eyelids fluttered, blackness creeping in. He clawed helplessly at the Grimbeast’s grasp when he was suddenly yanked back from the fence and shoved face-first into the snow. His knees gave out and he landed with a solid thud on his belly. His lungs blazed in agony, each mangled breath barely escaping past his bloodied lips.
The Grimbeast stepped around him, its large back paws leaving behind deep imprints in the snow. Killian writhed on the ground, fighting to stand. Get up. Hurry.
He’d barely made it to his knees when the Grimbeast jammed its foot on his back, thrusting him back down again. “I don’t think so.” He could smell its putrid breath from the ground. “You got away from me once before. Not this time.”
It latched on to Killian’s hair, and yanked his head so far back his spine cracked. An involuntary scream burst from Killian’s throat. Every nerve pulsed with fire, writhing agony coursing through his veins as his body involuntarily seized. The Grimbeasts erupted into unified laughter again.
The sky spun and swirled, the jeering face of the howling creatures distorting. But Killian clenched his jaw and focused on his hands. His body refused to move, heavier than coal as he strained to reach for the Grimbeast’s hold.
“I don’t think so, little prince.”
The monster wrenched him back to his feet, but before he could regain his balance, he was shoved back again into the fence. Killian coughed and tried to suck in another stabbing lungful of air when he was pulled back and slammed into it again. Then a third time. And then another.
FAIRYTALE Page 24