Darkly Fae: The Moraine Cycle

by Tera Lynn Childs

  “How do you feel about…” Ultan grinned, a dark, empty facsimile of a smile. “Suffocation?”

  No, no! Not the vacuum.

  When he opened his mouth to scream, no sound came out. Panic set in.

  With a wave of his hands, Ultan drew all the air from the chamber.

  At first, it didn’t seem so bad. It never did. It always took his brain several seconds to realize that his lungs were no longer filling with life-giving oxygen.

  Then the gasping began.

  Desperate, heaving, futile gasping. Like a trout pulled from the stream. Sucking at an air that could never satisfy.

  His eyes began to water.

  His skin began to itch.

  His lungs began to burn. They were on fire. Like he was breathing molten lava.

  And finally, the darkness creeped in. Shadows at the edges of the vision.

  But before the black oblivion could take him, the sun filled his world with light. It burned away the cold and chased Ultan back into the shadows.

  “Prince Aedan.” A pain-filled voice called to him as if from a great distance. “Aedan, please, wake up.”

  He came awake, blinking into the blinding light of sunrise. The sun was in his room, at the edge of his bed.

  He reached for it, caught it in his hands and pulled it close.

  It wrapped around his fingers, warm and real and full of life. It smelled like…peaches?

  The fog that shrouded the space between dream and reality lifted. Aedan recognized the rays of sunlight for what they were. Hair.

  “Hey.” Bree’s voice was so soft and gentle he wouldn’t have heard her if her face wasn’t mere inches from his.

  Her bright green eyes looked at him with so much sympathy that it hurt. He felt her sympathy, too, felt it charge his magic. And that did not hurt in the least.

  Slowly, with deliberate motion, he forced himself to release his hold on her peach-scented tresses. It took every ounce of his strength to let go when all he wanted was to pull her closer.

  She leaned back, and he realized that she sat on the edge of his bed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  It all flooded back over him. The darkness. The cold. The panic.

  Yet another way that Ultan continued to make him feel helpless—hopeless—without the traitor having to lift a finger.

  Aedan scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yes. Of course.”

  “It sounded like—” She shook her head and started again. “You were screaming and I—”

  “Unless you want an eyeful of what’s under this blanket, I suggest you turn away.”

  Bree’s eyes widened an instant before she leapt to her feet and spun to face the door.

  He didn’t explain that what was beneath the blanket was his sweat-soaked pajama pants. After one too many nights soaking through his sleepwear, he had opted out of the shirt. He hadn’t yet grown so desperate as to sleep in the buff.

  He was content for her to believe he had.

  Better that than to have to explain why he was screaming in his sleep. Those were secrets he couldn’t speak into existence.

  So long as they were locked away in his mind, they couldn’t worm their way into his reality.

  He climbed out of bed and crossed to the wash basin that a member of the palace staff had filled at some point in the night. The cool water felt good on his face. It washed away the memories along with the sweat.

  “I’m sorry I barged in,” Bree said, not turning away from the door.

  “You’re forgiven.” He twisted the tension out of his neck. “You can leave now.”

  But she didn’t leave. “I think we should talk.”

  They hadn’t spoken since breakfast the day before. When he came to her defense against those idiot guards. And she had thrown it back in his face.

  “I don’t,” he replied.

  “I know. But we should anyway.” She took a deep breath, as if fortifying herself. “I understand that you were only trying to help.”

  Well, that cleared everything up then.

  He crossed to his wardrobe and pulled out his running clothes. Without bothering to make sure she was still turned away, he started changing.

  “I have to deal with guys like that on a daily basis,” she continued.

  Aedan shrugged into his shirt. “Didn’t seem like you were dealing with them at all.”

  “That’s the point. I was. And now they’re going to think I need a prince to defend me.”

  “Next time I won’t bother.”

  “Look, I know you meant well,” she said. “And I appreciate the intent. It’s just…”

  She trailed off.

  He turned to look at her and saw her shaking her head. His magic sensed a wave of negative emotions he couldn’t quite place. Like a cross between sadness and anger.

  It took him several long moments to recognize it for what it was. Disappointment. Not in him. The emotions were directed inward. She was disappointed in herself.

  His irritation melted away. If there was one emotion that he understood better than all the others, it was self-disappointment.

  That was a lesson Ultan had forced on Aedan all too well.

  If Bree felt even a fraction of the self-disappointment that daily consumed him, then he did not need to add his bruised pride to her burden.

  “Are you ready?” he asked, forcing a lighter tone.

  She looked up at him as stepped up next to her. Her brows furrowed together in a scowl. “For what?”

  “The hardest run of your life.”

  She studied him intently, as if trying to discern some ulterior motive. When he lifted his eyebrows in question, visibly relaxed.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” she replied.

  And just like that, everything between them was back to normal. Aedan didn’t want to think about how good it made him feel to make her feel better. He didn’t want to think about anything at all. He only wanted to run.

  Luckily for them both, it seemed that Bree wanted the same thing.

  Chapter 10

  Bree wasn’t sure when she started looking so forward to her daily guard duty. Maybe it was because she and Aedan had come to a tentative truce after the incident in the dining hall. Or maybe it was because of the daily runs that pushed her to exhaustion even as they increased her stamina. Or maybe it was just because she knew that every day she crossed off the calendar was one day closer to what she really wanted: promotion to a full member of the Seer Guard.

  She couldn’t wait.

  Those thoughts were swirling through her mind as she walked around the corner into the hall that housed Aedan’s bedroom. The empty hall. She frowned when she didn’t see Regan standing outside his door.

  Bree hurried to the door and listened. She didn’t hear a sound coming from inside. So she lifted her fist and knocked.

  “Prince Aedan,” she called out softly. And then louder, “Aedan?”

  When she got no response, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She knew she shouldn’t barge into the prince’s bedroom again. This time she didn’t even have the excuse of hearing him scream.

  And yet… she couldn’t suppress the surge of panic that slapped her in the face.

  She had to go in. It was her duty, she told herself.

  Holding her hand over her eyes—after what he’d said about his sleep habits when she burst in on him mid-nightmare, she wasn’t taking any chances—she pushed open the door.

  “Prince Aedan? I didn’t see Regan outside,” she said, her voice getting louder as she stepped into the room. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Silence.

  Could he be sleeping? With how loud she had knocked and shouted, that was unlikely. What if he was hurt?

  After a brief mental argument with herself, she dropped her hand and looked around the room. The prince’s bed was a rumpled mess, there were stacks of books everywhere and what looked like pajamas in a rumpled heap on the floor, and Aedan was nowhere in s
ight.

  “Don’t freak out,” Bree whispered to herself as she proceeded to do exactly that.

  All kinds of worst case scenarios raced through her mind.

  Ultan had managed to escape and kidnap Aedan again.

  Some of Ultan’s unknown co-conspirators had taken Aedan to use as a bargaining chip.

  Aedan’s guilt over almost attacking her yesterday had driven him to do something stupid.

  There were countless possibilities, each one more panic-inducing than the last. But what good would hysteria do her? Or him?

  “Pull yourself together,” Bree told herself. “You need to figure out what happened.”

  She started by searching for clues in Aedan’s room. Other than the books, the messy bed, and the pile of clothes, there wasn’t much sign that anyone even lived in the room. The walls were bare and there were no personal effects. She wouldn’t get any clues in there.

  Think. What is his normal morning routine?

  Maybe he went running? A tiny pang in her chest tightened at the thought of him going without her. It had fast become the best part of her day.

  But she had more important problems to worry about.

  Before she set out into the forest to search the paths they normally ran, she should probably check the palace. Just in case anyone had seen him.

  She decided to start in the room where she had first met him. Where he spent most of his day. Rushing through the halls and down the stairs, Bree ran for the training room like her life depended on it. She wouldn’t let herself think that maybe Aedan’s did.

  As she burst in through the open doors, her heart nearly exploded. Aedan and Regan were in the sparring ring. Kickboxing.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

  Even though she had said the words only to herself, somehow Aedan heard her. His gaze shifted to her, and along with it his attention.

  Regan took advantage of his distraction to land a solid punch to his jaw. It knocked him back against the ropes.

  Bree was in the ring in an instant.

  “What in the Everdark are you doing?” she demanded, shoving Regan away from the fallen prince.

  Regan looked legitimately confused. “We are sparring.”

  “Not anymore,” Bree told her.

  Regan glanced at Aedan, who shrugged, and then back at Bree. “Very well. I have other duties.”

  The fae guard turned on her heel, sending her long hair swinging behind her as she climbed out of the ring. What did Peter see in her, anyway?

  Bree whirled back on Aedan, who was pushing to his feet.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded.

  He frowned. “You’re frightened.”

  She blinked and jerked back. “What?”

  “I can feel your fear,” he said. “You are frightened on my behalf.”

  “Well…yeah.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the door. “She hit you.”

  Aedan stepped closer. Bree was suddenly aware of how he towered over her. Of how he smelled of earthy sweat and sweet fae magic. Her mind spun.

  “That is not why,” he continued. “You were frightened when you entered the room. I felt you before I saw you.”

  Bree’s mouth went dry. “I, um…” This was a bad situation. Dangerous. Run, Bree, run. But she didn’t, and he didn’t back away.

  She found herself saying, “You weren’t in your room. I thought maybe…”

  She couldn’t say the words. The fear seemed so ridiculous now. Of course Ultan hadn’t escaped. Of course no one had kidnapped Aedan.

  His head tilted toward her. “That frightened you?”

  Her lips were so dry. She darted her tongue out to wet them, and then gasped when Aedan’s dark gaze lowered to her mouth. Which made her gaze lower to his.

  Bad. Dangerous. Run!

  Her body wouldn’t listen. Her brain was turning into softer and softer mush as he leaned closer.

  She had to say something, had to stop this before…what? She couldn’t even remember why she was objecting to whatever was happening between them.

  Still, she had to… “I—”

  He stopped her words with his mouth. His lips brushed softly over hers and then, as if encouraged, he came back with more pressure. More heat. More…everything.

  Bree’s hands came up to cup his face, then smoothed back into his hair. She had the strangest sensation that nothing had ever felt more right in her life.

  “And then he jumped out of the tree, naked as the day he was born.”

  The rumble of male laughter echoed into the training room.

  The moment was broken.

  Aedan jumped back so quickly he stumbled. Bree was left clutching at air as a trio of Palace Watch guards entered the room.

  Chapter 11

  Aedan cursed himself a fool. What business did he have kissing his brother-assigned bodyguard? His babysitter.

  Worse, what business did he have wanting more?

  In truth, he hadn't been able to help himself. The moment she stepped into the room, the power of her fear—her worry—had overwhelmed him. As his magic fed, his chest tightened.

  The same girl who had stood fearless in the face of his attack, had been consumed with concern for his safety. She wasn't afraid of him, yet she was afraid for him.

  What did that mean?

  Probably less than he was reading into it. Concern for his safety was part of her job. She couldn’t protect him if she didn’t want to keep him safe.

  But the way her eyes widened when he stepped closer, the way she tripped over her words, the way she leaned into the kiss told him it was more than duty.

  From the moment their lips met, he wanted more, more, more. It took every ounce of strength and restraint he had to keep from crushing her to him. Then her hands touched his face and the wildcat within him growled to life.

  He had never felt such an overwhelming urge to shift into his ainmhi. It was as though her touch unleashed him.

  Had those guards not entered the room, Aedan might have gone on kissing her forever.

  And at the moment, he couldn’t think of any reason why that was a bad thing.

  Aedan only meant to go splash water on his face then return to his training. To apologize, maybe, even though he was not at all sorry for the kiss.

  Instead of walking back to the training room, he found himself taking another path through the palace.

  He rounded a corner too quickly and nearly collided with another fae.

  “Sorry,” Aedan quickly apologized.

  Tearloch laughed it off. “In a hurry, princeling?”

  Aedan scowled at the nickname. “Yes.”

  “I hear you finally found a sparring partner,” the Captain of the Royal Guard said. “Regan is as fearless as they come.”

  Aedan unconsciously rubbed at his jaw. “And then some.”

  Tearloch laughed. “You coming to the trial today?”

  “No.” Aedan’s muscles tensed. “I have somewhere else to be.”

  Anywhere else.

  He pushed past his brother’s friend, and kept walking.

  At first he thought he might seek some fresh air in the courtyard. But the courtyard was full of people. Too full. Everywhere he went, fae greeted him by name, watched him carefully as if checking for signs of damage or instability.

  He hated to break it to them, but he had both. He was trying to keep them under control. He was mostly succeeding, too.

  Only Bree seemed singularly capable of bringing them to the surface.

  He felt trapped. He was surrounded by familiar faces, inquisitive glances, curious stares. He could practically feel them judging him. Assessing him.

  Why doesn’t he attend the trial?

  Doesn’t he want to see justice for his captor?

  What did Ultan do to him?

  What is wrong with him?

  Far too many things to list.

  He needed to go somewhere quiet, somewhere he could think.

 
Without conscious decision, his feet started carrying him through the palace halls. He followed a once familiar path and, a few moments later, emerged in the queen’s library.

  His mother’s sanctuary.

  She had passed countless hours in this room after her husband—Aedan’s father—had been tried for maru iobartach and sentenced to a millennium in the Everdark. Hours spent staring into the flames of the hearth as tears streaked down her cheeks. Aedan had only been child at the time and didn’t fully comprehend what was going on. He only knew that his father was gone and his mother came into the library to cry all the time.

  He had often snuck in and climbed up next to her on the sofa. She would squeeze him so tight he couldn’t breathe, but he somehow knew she needed it.

  Now, he crossed to the sofa and sat where he had spent so many hours.

  Why had he kissed Bree?

  No answers came.

  He stared into the empty hearth. After all that time spent fearing—spent believing—he would never feel warmth again, he hated even the slightest chill.

  Summoning his magic, he ignited a small fire within the stone enclosure.

  “If I thought for even an instant that you would sit for it, I would call the royal portraitist to capture this moment.”

  Aedan turned at the sound of his mother’s voice. She stood only a few feet away, smiling at him in a way that was both happy and sad. He hadn’t heard her approach.

  She swept in, the fabric of her clothing swirling around her like a cloud. There was so much movement that he couldn’t tell if she wore pants or a gown or something altogether different.

  As she sat next to him on the sofa, he felt instantly transported back to all those years ago when he had comforted her.

  He hoped she did not think to return the favor now. Comfort was not what he needed. Control. That was the goal.

  “You are not sleeping,” she stated.

  “Not at the moment, no,” he replied.

  She gave him a look that only she could give. “You are not sleeping at night.”

  “I am.”

  It was not a lie. He was sleeping. Just not very well or for very long.

  “You are not sleeping enough,” she said with a sigh.