Revelry

by Chani Feener

  “I suppose that’s what I’ll do then.” She’d always lived that way––day to day. She’d learned at a young age that it was impossible to ever truly know what tomorrow would bring, especially when the Unseelie were involved. Because of that, she’d always focused on the present.

  But…

  Last year, she’d decided to join the Tithe, and look how that had turned out. In the end, when she’d lost, she’d had no backup plan. She may not be able to predict everything, but it couldn’t hurt to be somewhat prepared.

  “See,” Tabby pointed at her as she watched acceptance flash across Arden’s face, “you know I’m right.”

  “I can’t talk about this anymore.” Understanding that she needed to change her perspective and actually doing so were two different things, and she was still coming down from the terrifying adrenaline rush she’d experienced with Mavek. “There’s a reason I fixate. I can’t handle everything at once.”

  She could barely handle anything at all.

  “Arden…” Eskel’s voice trailed off on the other end of the phone and she found herself holding her breath. It was cowardly, telling him about her new plan with Mavek this way, but she’d known she’d be unable to look him in the eye.

  The icy night air gusted against her cheeks, causing a shiver to race down her spine and her shoulders to curve involuntarily inward. Her knees were pressed to her chest and she dropped her chin to them, relishing the bit of warmth it brought to her wind-burned face. Inside, she could hear the muffled voices of Tabitha and her family from where they sat in the living room. Arden had retreated to the front porch a little while ago in order to get some semblance of privacy for her talk with Eskel.

  It was nice of Tabby’s parents to let her stay here—though they believed it was only until she got her window fixed—but it’d been a long time since Arden had had to share space with so many other people. Lately, she found herself feeling antsy and anxious more than half the time. Now that they’d struck a deal, her hope was that she could convince Mavek to let her go back home and—

  She straightened rigidly, despite another sharp blow of wind against her body. Arden didn’t need Mavek’s permission. Shit. When was she going to stop habitually relying on him?

  “Arden?” the tone of Eskel’s voice changed, and she grimaced, realizing her mind had wandered.

  “Yeah?” She’d just explained her deal with Mavek to him, having decided against lying to him or withholding any information. She’d made sure to mention the kissing aspect of that conversation as well. There were already so many things between them––dividing them––she didn’t want secrets to be another one. She wasn’t really sure when he’d become so important to her, if it’d been before the Tithe, or after. Sharing intense, adrenaline rushing moments like that was said to force people closer.

  Could she even trust what she was feeling for him?

  Could she trust anything she’d ever felt for anyone ever?

  “What am I to you, Arden?”

  For a split second, her mind blanked and she was certain she’d misheard him. It was almost like he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking, and it took her a while to get her racing heart under control and clear her throat. Only so she could dumbly reply back, “What?”

  He sighed heavily on the other end, the sound followed by shuffling noises. It sounded like he was lying in bed in his dorm room. “I know I keep telling you I’m fine with waiting, but you have to give me something. Do I even stand a chance here, or are we just friends? Which is it? I’ll still help you, even if the answer is you don’t like me, but—”

  “I like you,” she blurted, only realizing maybe she shouldn’t have once the words were out there and it was too late to take them back.

  Of course she liked him, he’d been nothing but patient and kind and caring, even with everything that was happening. At first, she’d thought that he was sticking around simply to get revenge for his brother, and maybe that was still part of it, but she’d realized that his feelings for her were genuine. That was the scary part.

  “The last guy I liked turned out to be—” how did she even describe Mavek? “—wrong.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll end up being a creepy possessive jerk as well?” Eskel asked, and she could hear the frown in his voice, the slightest hint of insult.

  “No,” she said, “it’s got nothing to do with you personally. I’m afraid of my own judgment.”

  That was the greatest thing Mavek had taken from her. She doubted herself now with everything. Doubted whether or not she was a good friend, whether or not she was a good person. Whether or not she could continue like this, or if she would be able to survive as a fae.

  “I used to be so confident,” she told him, leaning back to glance up at the inky night sky. There were more stars than she could count, and for a brief second, a longing ached within her–– the need to be that open and free causing her breath to stutter and tears to threaten at the corners of her eyes. “I grew up taking care of myself and my sister. I’ve been independent for years, making my own decisions. Deciding what was best for me.”

  “You thought that was the Tithe,” he caught on.

  “Yeah.” She’d foolishly believed that one thing could change the entire course of her life.

  “It was one mistake, Arden.”

  She grunted. “One I’ll be paying for forever. Possibly literally.”

  He was quiet for a moment and then, “Do you want to kiss him?”

  She blinked, turning away from the stars, and frowned at the darkness across the street. Instinctually, she wanted to deny it. Logically, after everything he’d done, she shouldn’t want to kiss Mavek anymore. But Eskel deserved more than just a half-assed answer that may or may not be the truth.

  For weeks now, she’d struggled with that very question, trying to figure out how many of her feelings were real and how many were rooted in manipulation. Half of the things Mavek had told her during their time together had been lies; weeding out fact from fiction had kept her up most nights. The fact that she still cared so much––that she wanted so badly to discover what had been real––made her feel guilty.

  “When we first met,” Eskel began, pulling her from her tumbling thoughts, “I remember thinking you were the most confident person on the planet. You were so sure of yourself, so comfortable in your own skin. You were strong, Arden.”

  His words stung, but before she could respond, he continued. “You still are. We can’t all be sure of ourselves every single moment. It’s okay to not be sure of things. It’s okay to take chances and make mistakes.”

  “My mistakes can get people killed,” she reminded him.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  She froze all over again, breath catching in her lungs.

  “Maybe it’ll be a mistake,” he said. “Maybe, at the end of all of this, you’ll still choose him, despite everything he’s done. Maybe you think I’m weak and pathetic for sticking around even knowing that. Maybe it’s stupid of me, to willingly love you, even knowing you might not ever return my feelings. There are so many maybe’s in the world, Arden, so many what-ifs and uncertainties. What I know though, what I trust, is that I’ve already lost to the fae before, and I won’t ever let them take anything from me again without a fight. I know what it’s like to be left behind, to ache for someone that’s no longer there. So it’s okay. I can handle being in a one-sided love, if that’s what I have to do. I’ll be fine if you can only give me that, if all you can let me do is stay near you. I couldn’t protect Everett. Letting me help protect you can be enough.”

  “I’m not the same person I was before.” If that’s who he was holding on to, she couldn’t guarantee she’d ever be that girl again.

  “None of us are the same person we were yesterday.”

  “Eskel…” He’d just told her he loved her. He’d told her he loved her and she… didn’t know what to say. Or how to feel. Absently, she pressed her palm against her heart, realizing it was
thumping wildly in her chest and that suddenly she was burning up.

  “Please, Arden,” he practically breathed the words into the phone then, and she understood that she wasn’t the only one shaken. “If that’s all you can give me, I’ll accept that. But you have to let me know. You have to give me something. Do you just like me as a friend? Do I even stand a chance?”

  “Maybe you’re too good for me,” she whispered.

  “Maybe I am,” he agreed quickly, and for some strange reason, she found herself laughing at that. “But I get to decide who I love. I’m the only one who can decide whether that’s right or wrong for me. No one else. It’s the same for you. It’s your choice. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

  It wasn’t hard for her to read between the lines, for her to figure out that he was telling her it would be okay if she told him right now that she was still in love with Mavek. That he’d accept her feelings and wouldn’t judge her for them.

  He would still be her friend, even if she rejected him for a monster.

  “I can’t trust my own emotions,” she admitted, the tension radiating from his end of the line as she spoke. “I can’t be sure if what I want right now is what I’ll want tomorrow, or if it’s right or wrong in general. I can’t give you any absolutes, but… if you were here right now, I would kiss you.”

  Maybe that was unfair of her to say. Despite everything he’d just told her, or because of it, perhaps she shouldn’t tell him that, even if it was the truth. Maybe Eskel Montgomery really was too damn good for her. Maybe it didn’t matter.

  “I want to kiss you,” she said, and for the first time in a long time, there was something she was certain of.

  Their first kiss was brief, barely a brushing of lips before they both pulled back and Mavek turned from the doorway and led her into the manor. Silently, Arden trailed behind him, ringing her hands before shoving them into her coat pockets. Before they’d reached the kitchen, she’d pulled them out again, all her nervous energy making her fidget.

  She should be glad that the beginning of their deal had been so mellow––that he hadn’t insisted on prolonging the kiss. Instead, it put her even more on edge.

  Was this another trap? Did he want her to let her guard down? Why? All of these questions circled her mind, causing her heart to speed up and her anxiety to swell, almost to the point that she was tempted to spin on her heels and run the opposite direction. Except that would be stupid, not only because this was necessary, but also because she’d already paid for the first half of today’s session with him. That kiss had to mean something.

  She would make it mean something.

  “What are we doing in here?” she asked once they were both standing in the center of the kitchen, next to the same table where she’d found Cole and Titania that night. She glanced at it disapprovingly, noting the odd assortment of glass bottles before turning her attention to the Midnight King.

  “We’re starting with the basics,” Mavek explained. “Not all Unseelie have the ability to move things without touching them, but I’ve been told you’ve already displayed this several times.”

  “I’ve pretty much got that one covered,” she said, not wanting to sound cocky, but also hoping to skip ahead. Being alone with him like this was more than awkward and unsettling. It made it especially difficult to figure out how she was going to get him to leave her alone long enough to search the pantries for those candied roses.

  After talking it over with her friends, they’d come to the conclusion that searching the kitchen first was the smartest play. After all, it was technically a food item. If she couldn’t find them on her own, then she’d have to resort to the more dangerous Plan B: bringing it up to Mavek. But only if. The fact that he’d led her straight to the one room she wanted to be in made her a bit suspicious, but she tried not to let on. She looked at him evenly, but in the back of her mind she wondered if he had somehow found out why she was really there.

  Mavek exhaled. “I’m not going to do anything to you. We agreed on terms and I’ve promised to stick to them. We’re only here to help you understand who you are.”

  “What I can do and who I am aren’t the same thing,” she disagreed.

  “What you do makes you who you are,” he countered. “Aren’t we all judged by our actions? You’re the one always telling me that.”

  She ignored him, instead sweeping an arm out to the table. “What’s all this for then?”

  “You’re going to move it,” he told her, pointing to the other side of the room, “from over there.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and moved to stand where he’d instructed. Without waiting for him to join her, she chose one of the glass bottles, a tan one with a long neck, and thought about it sliding into the green one behind it. A second later, the two of them clanked loudly against each other and she gave him a bored look. “Next?”

  “I’m not impressed,” he said.

  “I moved it, didn’t I?”

  “Sure,” he stepped up to her side, “but how well can you perform when there’s a distraction? Unseelie aren’t going to stop an attack to give you the time to compose yourself, Arden. Lesson number one.”

  This wasn’t the first time he had trained her. Back then, he’d been teaching her how to be a Heartless––how to defend herself against his kind and resist faerie magic. Now he was teaching her the opposite. Arden almost snorted at the irony. Suddenly, he leaned in close, edging into her personal space until she tensed next to him.

  “Do it again,” he instructed, and for an embarrassing moment, she had no idea what he was talking about. “Again, Arden.”

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and dug her nails into the flesh of her palms. All of her attention landed on a clear bottle on the right side of the table, one of the furthest ones from where they stood. It was childish, but she wanted to prove something to him.

  To herself, really.

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Mavek said, the words coming out in hot bursts of air from lips that caressed the curve of her ear.

  She held back a shiver, curling her toes in her boots, and forced herself not to let his nearness affect her. Part of her wanted to lean into him, while the other part felt disgusted. This constant split within herself was a struggle, and Eskel’s words from the other night raced through her mind. She’d told him she wanted to kiss him, and she’d meant it. If she focused on that, perhaps she could convince herself that it didn’t matter what she felt for the dark fae.

  “Breathe, heart.” Mavek planted a heavy palm at the narrow of her back, helping to steady her even though the contact sent her heart ricocheting in her chest. Was he using sway right now, or was it just her?

  The glass jar across the table shook, clattering lightly against the wooden surface. She inhaled sharply and then sent it careening off the edge with little to no extra thought at all. The glass shattered on the wood floor.

  “I told you I could handle this now,” she said, twisting out of his grasp and stepping off to the side in a poor attempt to put space between them.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up slightly. He moved closer, trapping her between him and the table, smirk turning into a full-blown grin when she instinctually narrowed her eyes and glared warningly at him.

  “Relax, Arden,” he laughed. “I already assured you. Our agreement was for one kiss before and after our sessions. I won’t break it.”

  “It’s hard to relax when you’re around,” she told him, hands clenching at her sides as his grin only widened. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It’s because I don’t trust you. No other reason but.”

  He lifted a dark brow. “Should I test you on that? Use your name against you and force the truth? I’ll admit, I’m curious to know.”

  She batted his hand away when he started to tuck her hair behind her ear. With a heavy sigh, he stepped back, twisting to lean against the edge of the table, now next to her instead of blocking her in. “You’re no fun anymore, h
eart.”

  “You made me this way.”

  His expression darkened.

  “I was never around to entertain you, Mavek. That was never my intention, or my purpose. I’m a living creature, not a toy for you to mess around with.”

  He opened his mouth, perhaps to make another joke, before smartly reconsidering. Instead, he shook his head and straightened, dusting off his jeans, before turning toward a closed door on the other side of the room. She frowned as he strode over, wondering what in the storage closet could be of use to them. When he opened the door, she blinked, momentarily caught off guard.

  A tall, lanky faerie she’d never met before stood cramped within the small confines of the closet. His shoulders were hunched, head tucked against his chest just so he could fit. It did not look like a comfortable position to be in.

  “What… How long… Why was he in there?” Her cheeks started to stain pink from embarrassment—how much had that fae overheard just now?—but she tried to collect herself as the Unseelie bowed his head to Mavek and then passed the threshold into the kitchen.

  “He only just arrived,” Mavek told her, and she was about to ask how that was even possible but he continued over her. “He’s here to serve a purpose and nothing more, don’t pay him any mind beyond that.”

  She cocked her head, frown still in place, and when he didn’t elaborate she waved at the Unseelie pointedly. “What exactly is that purpose?”

  “You’re going to use sway on him.”

  “Huh?” Arden was sure she’d misheard, leaning a little closer as if that would somehow help. “You mean I’m going to break out of his sway? Seems kind of redundant, don’t you think?” Resisting faerie magic took strong will, not power. Anyone could be trained to do it.