Revelry

by Chani Feener

  “Gone as well.”

  Then chances were good that she wouldn’t be seeing Brix again for a while. Strange, she actually felt a pang of sadness. They hadn’t even gotten to exchange a proper goodbye. The Lutin had sort of swept in and out of her life.

  “Krit owes me a favor,” Mavek continued, “and I do not count his warning about the Crown Prince’s whereabouts as equal exchange. He should have told us the whole story.”

  “Don’t you have connections with the Underground?” She’d never stopped to ponder over whether or not the Midnight King still had friends or family back in the realm he’d come from.

  He shook his head. “I cut ties as soon as I was able to. Though, I can see now why keeping a few spies would have been beneficial.”

  “You didn’t think you’d have to worry about what went on there,” she guessed, and he grunted, a half-smirk lifting the corner of his lips. “You really never considered going back?”

  “Why would I?” He held her gaze pointedly. “Everything I want is here.”

  Arden glanced away, swallowing the lump in her throat, his words affecting her more deeply than she’d like. She’d just been attacked and injured—sitting here, listening to him go on about how they should be together, was the last thing she should be doing. She needed to end this conversation and check on Eskel herself, make sure that he really was alright.

  Then there was Tabby. If she’d come to the hospital, there was a chance the two of them could have a real talk, without yelling or arguing. She hoped so anyway, since she really couldn’t stomach the idea of truly losing her friend.

  Yet another incident that would be partially Mavek’s fault. She thought back to how she’d felt when she’d discovered that the real reason Cole had broken up with her and left was because Mavek had threatened him. This situation with Tabby was sort of similar in the sense that, while the root was Mavek, the final decision belonged to them. Cole could have told the truth before he’d fled, and Tabby…

  It all came down to choice. Free will meant everyone was always at least a little bit to blame. Including Arden.

  “You were right,” she said, fingers tightening around the thin material of the hospital sheet sprawled over her legs, “before. I do blind myself to reality sometimes. I wanted so desperately to believe there was a way to break my family’s curse, I only briefly considered the Tithe was a setup. And even though I knew what you are, always knew, I couldn’t stop myself from wishing there was a way to have more.”

  None of that excused him for what he’d done, but he hadn’t made her fall in love with him. From the sound of it, that’d never been in either of their plans. She was the one who’d been unable to separate reality from fantasy, allowing herself to get so caught up in his support and kindness that eventually what he was had no longer mattered.

  But she’d always known on some level that the two of them were impossible. Not only was he immortal, Mavek was also a powerful being while she was a mere college freshman. The two of them didn’t fit––logic had told her that––but she’d been unable to control her emotions. When he’d told her that there was a way for the two of them to be together after all, she hadn’t questioned it––she’d allowed herself to hope, not considering what that path might entail.

  Not caring. As long as in the end they could be together.

  How much of what was happening now was actually her fault? How much responsibility did she have to take before she could start trusting herself, and others, again? Second guessing everything, not knowing what she wanted, hating herself for her feelings… She couldn’t live like this forever. Especially not if forever really meant forever.

  “You were only human, Arden,” he told her when she’d grown quiet for too long.

  “And you took advantage of that.” She’d fallen right into his trap, sure, but he’d still been the one to set the snare. “Now, you want me to just up and forgive you for making me feel stupid and naïve. For making me lose even more than I already have.”

  He frowned at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

  “Tabby is already afraid of me,” she said, air sputtering out of her as tears threatened to spill. “I haven’t even fully changed yet, haven’t done anything in front of her to show her the changes I’ve already undergone, but I heard her say….” She swallowed, struggling to repeat it out loud, even though she’d already told Eskel. Maybe because she understood the hypocrisy in telling it to Mavek. Hadn’t she thrown the exact same insult at him the day after the Tithe?

  “She called me a monster.” Sort of, close enough. That’s certainly what Tabby had been hinting at, and Arden had felt it, the weight to those words. The truth behind them. As badly as she wanted to, she hadn’t been able to blind herself to reality.

  “My best friend thinks I’m turning into something ugly.” She stared at him head on, tears blurring her vision. “You did that.”

  “I think you’re beautiful,” he disagreed. “I always have. What Tabitha feels is up to her. If she can’t look past you being Unseelie, that’s no fault of mine.” He paused, then added comfortingly, “Or yours. As you’ve just said, heart, you were able to love me despite knowing what I am. Why can’t she do the same? Her inability speaks more to her character than to yours.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and dropped her head back against the headboard. A couple tears slipped past her defenses and rolled slowly down her cheeks, but she didn’t bother brushing them away or trying to hide them.

  “I’m just so tired, Mavek,” she whispered. “It’s only been a month, and I’m already so tired.”

  “I know, heart.” The bed springs creaked as he shifted closer, so she was prepared when his fingers ghosted across her left jaw line. When he lightly gripped her chin, tipping her head up, she opened her eyes. His lips hovered only a few inches away.

  The hospital door flung open with such force that Arden started, body going alert as flashes of Twila and the other attacking fae rushed through her mind. Instead of another threat, Eskel stood in the doorway, out of breath and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, a wrinkled hospital gown thrown haphazardly on. His cheeks were stained pink, and it was easy to guess that he’d been running from Cato. He looked furious until he processed how close the two of them were inside the room. Then his brow furrowed and he straightened some.

  Arden expected his expression to be accusatory, but when he finally met her gaze, he just looked sad.

  “It seems you’ve managed to slip Cato,” Mavek was the first to speak, moving so that he could perch on the edge of the bed once more. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, inspecting Eskel. “I’m impressed.”

  “Didn’t do it to impress you,” Eskel bit out, but he didn’t move farther into the room.

  Mavek chuckled. “We’ve never been properly introduced, have we? You’re Arden’s human.” He grinned, his smile unnaturally wide. “I’m Arden’s Unseelie. Perhaps we should try to get to know one another, since I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the times to come.”

  “That’s a hard pass,” he replied. “I already know more about you than I’d like.”

  “Arden talks about me, I see.”

  Eskel stiffened, but didn’t bother to correct him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, trying to move from the bed and stand.

  Mavek leaned back, dropping his hands to the bed on the other side of her legs, effectively locking her in place. She could no longer see his expression, but when Eskel’s eyes darkened, she was certain it was because Mavek was grinning all over again. Pressing a palm against his shoulder, she shoved, but he didn’t so much as budge.

  “You used all your strength earlier,” he explained when she made a noise of frustration. “You’re little better than a regular human at the moment, heart. It’ll be best for everyone if you just rest.”

  Eskel took a single step into the room, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

  “Oh, are you going to try t
o fight for her?” Mavek seemed to like that idea, even motioning him closer with a lift of his chin. “Come, try it. I have energy myself to expel, and teaching you your place seems the perfect way to do so.”

  “Stop.” Arden shook her head at Eskel and pressed harder against Mavek, even though she was unable to do anything in her current state. “Stop acting like a child.”

  His dark brows lifted and he turned his head to her. Cato chose that moment to make his appearance, twisting around the doorway so fast he almost slammed into Eskel. Catching himself at the last second, his wide eyes apologetically sought out Mavek’s.

  “The other two distracted me,” he said by way of explanation.

  “It was a group effort,” Eskel clarified. Did he feel bad for Cato? Perhaps he didn’t want to see the faerie get in trouble because of him. Eskel was like that. Arden almost smiled.

  “How… cute,” Mavek drawled, and she couldn’t tell if it was for lack of a better thing to say or because he genuinely meant it.

  The smell of the hospital room and the bright lights were starting to irritate her senses, not to mention the tension that filled the small space now from the three males. Their conversation from before was clearly over—she refused to talk about her feelings for Mavek, past or present, in front of Eskel—and this was turning precarious. She needed to get them to leave, or at the very least, the fae.

  “And so ends Arden’s great struggle to keep us apart,” Mavek asserted then, and she could practically hear the smile in his tone. She bristled but held her tongue, even when Eskel’s frown deepened. Though they’d been in the same place during the Tithe, the two of them had never spoken to one another.

  “Didn’t you know?” Mavek clucked his tongue. “My heart’s greatest hope has been that you and I never meet face to face like this.”

  “That isn’t her greatest hope and you know it,” Eskel said sharply.

  “You’re referring to her wish to remain human.” He sighed, bored. “How disappointing. I had hoped you’d at least show me something to explain why she’s so stuck on you. Your pretty face I understand, but you hardly seem worth all the trouble if that’s the best your mouth can do.”

  Behind Eskel, Cato shifted a bit, but Arden might have been the only one to notice; the other two were too busy staring each other down. She’d caught that note of warning in Mavek’s voice. He might not sound upset, but he couldn’t be pleased that the two of them were interrupted, or that Eskel was here after he’d ordered him away. She gnawed at her bottom lip. She had to do something to protect Eskel before he did something to really piss the Unseelie off.

  “Hmm,” Mavek hemmed and turned to look at her, though his words were still meant for Eskel when he said, “Although, I suppose Arden can divulge which of us has the better mouth, isn’t that right?”

  She sucked in a breath, a rush of indignation, mortification, and anger flooding through her so fast her head spun. Weak and trapped, she merely hissed, unable to lash out at him.

  “You’re taking things too far,” she stated darkly, but he only chuckled.

  “I could kiss him too,” Mavek suggested, “see what all the fuss is about.”

  Eskel made a face of disgust at that.

  “Oh, not like your brother? Disappointing.”

  “Don’t talk about Everett.”

  “I met him, did you know?” Lazily, he leaned even farther back on his propped arms, muscles rippling, crossing his ankles before him. “The Erlking brought him to one of my revelries, weeks before the Tithe. I watched him wander off into the rose garden with Brix trotting at his heels like a smitten kitten.”

  “So, you’re saying it’s in your nature to chase after people who aren’t interested,” Eskel drawled, even though he had to know he was wrong. It was no secret that Everett returned Brix’s feelings.

  Mavek didn’t seem the least bit offended by that assessment, however. “No, I’m telling you that it’s in my nature to hunt the things I want. Relentlessly. You can either make yourself my obstacle, Eskel Montgomery, or you can make yourself my friend. The choice is completely yours. Ironically, Arden and I were just discussing the merits of choice before you so rudely barged in here.”

  Arden only heard the first part of his comment, mind blanking out like TV static the second he’d suggested Eskel become his ally. When he’d mentioned the crazy idea to her, she’d been surprised, but this… She could only be glad that he’d had the decency to word it differently this time around.

  “Are you…” Eskel seemed to be struggling as well, “hitting on me?”

  “Don’t misunderstand,” he said. “It’s purely for Arden’s benefit. There’s a lot I’m willing to do if it’s in her best interests.” The suggestiveness was impossible to miss.

  “Oh my god, stop!” She held up her hands and waved them frantically. “Seriously, stop. Right now. And never say anything like that again, ever.”

  Mavek tilted his head. “Are you reacting this way out of jealousy, or because you haven’t yet told him that I made the same suggestion to you weeks ago?”

  This certainly wasn’t the time for mortification—not when she should be feeling loads of other emotions, like anger and possibly even fear—but in that moment, Arden wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up beneath her and swallow her whole. It took her a few seconds to be able to glance Eskel’s way, and she flinched when she found he was already watching her, lips pursed in further confusion.

  “He what?” he blurted as soon as he had her attention and she covered her face with her hands and groaned.

  Heat coursed its way up her neck and into her cheeks, warm beneath her hands.

  “Now who’s acting like a child?” Mavek taunted, reaching up to tug lightly at her wrists, forcing them down into her lap. He kept his fingers wrapped around them, palm pressing down with just enough pressure to keep her from pulling away.

  Eskel moved across the room faster than either of them anticipated, grabbing at Mavek’s jacket. Before he could tug, though, Cato was pulling him back, practically dragging him until they were at the doorway once more. He kept his hold on Eskel, panic bright in his gray eyes as he waited for his king’s reaction.

  “That was unwise,” Mavek said tersely after a painfully long bout of silence.

  “You instigated,” she told Mavek, her displeasure clear. “Of course he was going to react. It’s what you wanted.”

  “Did I?” He lifted a brow, waiting for a response.

  Truthfully, she had no idea. She agreed Eskel’s move had been stupid; that didn’t mean she’d scold him for it in front of the Unseelie. She had to protect him in any way that she could. “Why else would you say all of that stuff?”

  He grunted. “You realize that I meant every word, or, should I repeat them?”

  “No!” Instinctively, she twisted her hands around beneath his, gripping him back tightly.

  Mavek stared down at where she held him, features settling into something almost akin to softness. When he looked up again, however, his steely resolve had returned. “If your human does anything like that again, I won’t be held responsible for my actions, Arden.”

  She shook her head, but he didn’t bother letting her speak.

  “You’ve both been warned.” He turned to Eskel. “My patience only stretches so far.”

  Cato cleared his throat, momentarily distracting them long enough to say, “Brix left a message.”

  “What message?” Mavek asked.

  He licked his lips. “It’s for Arden. He said to remember that talk you had, and the promise you made him make.”

  “What promise?” Mavek wasn’t pleased by that prospect.

  She had to think back on it for a bit before she could recall. He’d promised to help keep Eskel safe. Why was he bringing that up? Because the two of them had been attacked? He’d made his stance on their relationship clear numerous times before. Of course his parting words would be a reminder of that.

  “There’s more,” Cato
continued. “Apparently Twila was urged by the Crown Prince to attack you. He must have promised that he’d protect her against the Midnight King. But it wasn’t what it seemed. Brix doesn’t believe your death is Finch’s current goal.”

  “Then why bother?”

  “It was a test,” Mavek figured. “He wanted to see your strength for himself.”

  “He wasn’t even there,” she pointed out.

  “There may have been a spy watching nearby,” he told her, “or perhaps he was there, and you just didn’t realize. There’s no way to be certain.”

  “Why would the Crown Prince of the Underground care about Arden?” Eskel asked.

  Instead of shooting back some sarcastic retort, Mavek answered truthfully. “If he’s looking for a new ally, he must know that I won’t accept the position. Rumor is his younger brother is in the process of taking his throne, so there’s a chance he’s hoping to establish himself here. There’s also the chance that he plans on using Arden against me later, in order to gain my help. Or perhaps I’m giving him too much credit and this is all purely about revenge.”

  Taking Herla out was what had allowed the Crown Prince’s brother an opening to rise against him, Arden put together. It made sense Finch would be angry.

  “Take into consideration that it’s been a long time since a regent turned a human,” Cato added. “He would want to see for himself what’s special enough about her to attract your interest.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Eskel murmured, glaring right back when Mavek shot him a dark look. It was indeed similar to what the Midnight King had been doing only a moment prior––feel Eskel out to try and understand what Arden saw in him.

  “Okay,” there was really only one thing she cared about here, “am I safe though? I mean, he didn’t attack me himself, and I’ve never seen the guy around.”

  “You don’t even know what he looks like,” Cato reminded her.

  “Sure, but I know a scary, dark fae when I see one. And what about Titania?”

  Mavek frowned. “What about her?”

  “If Finch is looking for allies, and you’re a no-go, doesn’t that pretty much leave her? Is he going to approach her?”