by Bailey Dark
She played me. Just as she intended from the beginning.
Chapter 14
Verity
Dawn in Times Square is the most peaceful time in the busy tourist and business district of New York City. The dirty cement of the sidewalk digs into my bare forearms as I try to catch my breath. The portal spit me out directly in Times Square, onto a thankfully empty sidewalk. The morning rush won’t begin for another hour or so, despite the sun peaking over the city skyline.
I struggle to my feet; the mammoth skirt of my gown keeps getting stuck under my feet. I curse under my breath and manage to right myself. I dust off the grime of the sidewalk from my arms and hike the bodice of my dress up. The portal left me out of breath, sweating, and messy. My hair is sticking out every which way from the braid.
In the distance, I see a homeless man wandering my direction. Normally, I wouldn’t be concerned. But it’s early morning in New York and I’m dressed in a ball gown with genuine crystals. I need to get off the street.
I jog down the sidewalk, skirts in hand, towards a corner where I know I’ll find a cab. All around me, buildings soar into the sky, bright neon lights shining through the murky light of dawn. Discarded cigarettes and chewing gum litter the ground. The owner of a corner grocery drifts out of his story and shakes his head at the fresh graffiti on the wall. Our eyes meet and he snorts.
The optimism of New Yorkers truly is undeniable. I roll my eyes.
At the corner, I raise a hand and wave it towards an oncoming cab. When he stops, I slide into the back seat, dragging my skirts behind me. My face peeks out of a massive wave of blue tulle. “350 Central Park West,” I say, meeting the cab driver’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
“Figures,” he scoffs, peeling away from the curb. “You miss the limo?”
I smile sarcastically. “The horse and buggy, actually.”
He barks out a laugh. “So, you doing the walk of shame or did the magic ball go all night?”
I sigh, nerves twisting in my stomach at the thought of meeting Henry after so much time. “Neither actually.”
“Ah,” the cab driver says knowingly. “There’s a story here.”
“You wouldn’t believe it.” I give him a strained smile.
Without the congestion of New York City traffic, we reach the curb of Central Park West in minutes. “Twenty dollars and thirty-three cents,” he says, twisting around to face me.
“I don’t have any money on me, but if you wait, I can bring some down,” I say, blanching.
“Wait?” The driver sputters. His face turns an angry shade of purple. “Listen, here, I’m not waiting.”
“Well you wait and get paid or you drive away, and you don’t,” I snap. I tear a large crystal from my dress and toss it to him.
He catches it. “What the hell is this?”
“Payment,” I say, scooting out of the cab. “Take it to a jeweler.”
The cab driver holds it up to the light and inspects the crystal. “How do I know it’s real?”
“You don’t. Here, have another.” I throw him another large crystal and slam the door shut.
I hear him grumbling as he pulls away, but I know he’ll get good money for those jewels. I turn to the entrance of Henry’s swanky apartment complex; the doorman is watching me curiously. I smile as I approach, trying to smooth my hair. As I get closer, I see it’s a doorman I’ve met before, Charles.
“Hi, Charles,” I greet him hopefully.
His eyes are wide as he studies my face. “Miss Chastain?”
“Verity, please.” I wave a hand. “Can you let me up? I need to see Henry.”
“Miss—Verity, Henry is going to be thrilled to see you,” Charles says hurriedly, breaking out into a smile. “Go on up.”
“Thanks, Charles.” I run through the door towards the elevators.
The closer I get to Henry’s apartment, the more my gut twists. And the more Altair flickers through my mind. I close my eyes and rub my temples. He was furious when I asked to see Henry, as I knew he would be. But I couldn’t bear to kiss him as if Henry had never existed. It would have been easier that way, but every time I feel that flicker of desire when I see Altair, it’s always followed by guilt.
I pause outside Henry’s door, my fist raised to knock. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen him, weeks since our ruined wedding. And somehow, those weeks felt like an eternity. Finally, I drop my fist to his door and knock loudly. I hear him stirring within, his footsteps approaching. My hands tremble.
Henry opens the door, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, a mug of coffee in hand. I smile tentatively at him. “Hello, Henry.”
His jaw goes slack, eyes wide. “Verity?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I’m back.”
“Oh my god, Verity.” He wraps an arm around me, dragging me into his chest. He crushes me to him, driving the air out of my lungs. I squeeze my eyes closed. When he releases me, he holds my hand tightly and drags me inside his apartment. “Come in, come in.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, looking around. The boxes of my things are still littering the foyer—we were going to unpack when we returned from our honeymoon. His apartment is sleek and modern, massive by city standards.
“Let me get you some coffee,” he says hurriedly, rushing to the kitchen.
I nod and wander to the wall of windows overlooking Central Park. The sun is up fully now, casting an orange glow on the smog that always covers the city in the morning. Below, I can see cabs and town cars and busses maneuvering through traffic, tiny people scurrying every direction. Something twists in my chest.
“Verity,” Henry says, pulling me from my thoughts. He gestures for me to join him on his white, leather sofa.
“Thank you.” I accept the coffee from him and settle down. The sofa squeaks as I sit, something that never bothered me before.
Henry is quiet, watching me sip my coffee. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, “I was starting to think you were dead.”
I press my lips into a nervous line. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened? Why are you dressed like that?” Henry asks, the questions pouring from his mouth.
“I was taken on our wedding day, abducted,” I sigh heavily. I don’t even know where to begin. It’s all so unbelievable.
“That’s what I thought.” Henry stares down at his hands. “When we went looking for you all we found was a shoe and your bouquet.”
“I must have dropped them,” I say.
Henry looks up, his blue eyes fierce. “Who did this? How did you get away?”
“He let me go. He didn’t do anything bad to me,” I say hurriedly.
“We have to go to the police so they can catch this guy.” Henry slips off the sofa and gets on his knees in front of me. He takes my hands in his. “I’m glad you’re alright. I was so scared.”
“How are my parents?” I ask, blinking back tears.
“They’re okay, they’ll be so relieved to know you’re home.” Henry kisses one of my knuckles. “I can call them up right now, we’ll all fly to Vegas and we can get married there. We don’t need the fairytale wedding.”
“What?” I feel as if the wind has been knocked out of me.
Henry squeezes my hands tightly, too tightly. “When you went missing, I realized that I didn’t care about all that stuff. I just cared about you. You’ve been all over the news, I’ve had people all around the country looking for you. Our wedding will bring us both closure, and it’s a great way to end our story.”
“Story?” I echo, brows furrowing.
“The bride who was kidnapped on her wedding day is a hot topic,” Henry says, smiling kindly.
I slip my hands out of his and smooth my hair back. “Henry, I have to tell you something.”
His face falls. “Oh, god. Did he rape you? Are you pregnant?”
“What?” I shake my head vigorously. “No, of course not. He wouldn’t do that.”
“He wouldn’t do that?” Henry rises and stares
out the window. “You seem to know a lot about what this man would and wouldn’t do.”
“I’ve been with him for weeks now,” I say. My skirts rustle as I stand and move to Henry’s side.
“Been with him?” He asks, his voice cold.
My spine stiffens, a shiver trailing down it. I know that tone. “Not like that, obviously.”
“Did you fall in love with him?” He snaps.
“No, Henry, that’s not it,” I stammer.
He laughs, a chilling sound. “Tell me, did he dress you up like this? Buy you jewels? Did you find someone richer than me to manipulate?”
“Henry,” I breathe, hurt straining my voice. “That’s not how it was between us. My feelings were real.”
The scowl slips away from his face, replaced by a loving expression. He reaches for me, running a hand over my cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be jealous of the man who took you against your will.”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I say.
Henry wanders away, rambling about Vegas and which news outlets he’ll invite. I don’t know how to tell him. And what’s worse, I’m afraid to tell him. Afraid because he can be volatile. But I have to tell him. I take a deep breath and move into the kitchen, closer to the front door.
“Henry,” I say, loudly enough to interrupt him. “I still have to tell you something.”
“Go ahead, darling.” He smiles, his fingers hovering over his phone.
I inhale sharply. “Henry I can’t marry you.” The words tumble out of my mouth abandon.
He’s silent for a moment before his eyes narrow. “What?”
“I can’t marry you,” I repeat, clenching my hands together.
“You’re distraught from the terror of your experience,” he says. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Yes, I do,” I say insistently. “Henry, I can’t marry you. Things have changed for me since I’ve been gone. I feel differently about you and about my life. I have to do what’s best for me.”
He laughs humorlessly. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What?”
“The kidnapped bride leaving the heartbroken groom is not the way this story ends,” he hisses. “You will marry me.”
“Drag me up to that altar and I’ll say no,” I snap.
Henry glowers at me. He stalks through the kitchen towards me, but I hold my ground. “I have done everything for you,” he growls. “You would be nothing without me. You would be living in that hole in the wall in Brooklyn with no savings. Your parents will be in debt for the rest of their lives without me.”
“That’s something I’ll have to live with.” I back away from him, eyes narrowed.
Suddenly, his fist is raised above me, his face is red with anger. Fear courses through me, I’ve never been hit by a man before. I close my eyes and imagine that Altair bursts through the door. I imagine that he snatches Henry’s wrist and breaks it with a simple squeeze. I imagine that he whisks me out of this apartment and back to the portal, wherever it is now.
But when I open my eyes, Altair isn’t there. And Henry is still hovering over me. The rage in his eyes fades slowly as I stare at him. He lowers his arm, though his fist is still clenched at his side. “Get out,” he croaks. “I don’t want to see you again. I’ll leave your shit on the sidewalk for you to pick up.”
“Donate it,” I say, my hand already on the doorknob. “Where I’m going, I don’t need it.”
Chapter 15
Altair
Blood spurts from the Bloodbane witch’s throat, coating my claws in hot, sticky liquid. I soar upwards into the bright blue sky before wheeling around for another attack. My men are on the ground, fighting against the Bloodbane witches that have crossed our borders yet again. The clang of their swords against the witches’ daggers is loud. Dressed in light, golden armor, my soldiers stand bright against the maroon of the witches’ cloaks.
The witches have grown more brazen since Maaz made her appearance at the ball. This is the largest group that has ever been spotted so close to Desmarais. A coven of fifty witches equipped with their poison arrows and daggers. I grit my teeth, picturing Maaz in my mind. She’s behind this little invasion. It’s a message to me that she will have what she wants; my kingdom.
I dart towards the ground, wings pinned to my back. The witches shout, and a volley of arrows flies towards me. I clip my wings out enough to direct my drop and avoid the poisonous tips, darting between them. Just a few meters off the ground, I spread my wings to stop my fall and glide over the Bloodbanes. I snatch one of them in my jaws and crush her spine. She squeals before falling abruptly silent.
I toss her aside and her body falls back to the ground with a sickening thud. I bank right, towards a Bloodbane in the back of the fight, staying out of the fray. She’s working on a spell; I can smell it in the air—something burning. I streak towards her, claws outstretched. The witch pivots, her hood falling down to her shoulders. She’s young, barely out of adolescence. That doesn’t stop my claws from shredding through her.
My heart clenches in my chest as her corpse falls to the ground. She didn’t look much younger than Verity. Of course, the witch was far older in truth, but in the terms of immortality, she was young. Too young for death. The battle is winding down, the last of the Bloodbane witches turning on their heels and running back towards the mountain border.
I land and shake out my blood-spattered wings. Pine needles and dirt stick to my paws, glued to the blood. Corpses dot the clearing in the dense forest where our battle took place. My soldiers pick through them, dragging the Fae who fell in battle away from the Bloodbane bodies. We’ll bring the soldiers back to Desmarais for a proper funeral. And for the Bloodbanes we build a funeral pyre.
We watch their corpses slowly burn to ash as the flames lick at the blue sky. This was only a single battle, there will be more before the curse runs its course. And after that, there will be no one left to protect Desmarais and my kingdom, Alnembra, from Maaz. I will be gone, and so will many of my people. Almost two thousand years of existence, gone in the blink of an eye. Unless Verity returns.
I shake my head, turning away from the pyre. Verity won’t be returning. One of Navi’s lieutenants’ approaches, a Fae man named Rynt. “Your Grace, we’re ready to return with the fallen,” he says, his brown eyes somber.
I peer past him towards the three corpses in golden armor. “Very well.”
Rynt snaps a salute before returning to the soldiers. Wordlessly, they march out of the clearing in perfect form, the bodies of their comrades on stretchers between them. I watch them disappear through the foliage before launching myself into the sky. A sense of gloom has fallen over the palace and Desmarais since Verity’s departure, I’m not immune either.
The rage has faded, but the sorrow remains. I had high hopes that Verity could truly break the curse. We were making progress; she was opening up to me and learning to trust me. Her sudden rejection left me nursing my ego and worse, trying to find another way to break the curse. I’ve had a thousand years to find a solution, and Verity was the only one. My scholars worked tirelessly to find her, but she slipped from my fingers so quickly. No. I let her slip from my fingers.
The palace comes into view ahead of me, but it looks dimmer than before. Somehow, knowing Verity isn’t there makes it seem empty. I drop into the courtyard, a few feet from Navi. She looks me over emotionless. “How many?” She asks, falling into stride beside me.
“Fifty,” I say, stifling a yawn. “They’re growing bolder.”
“I’ll double the patrol units on the border and in the guard towers,” Navi says, and I’m sure she already gave the order before I even arrived. “You have a guest in the gardens.”
“A guest?” I shake out my feathers. “Is it one of my advisers here to berate me for losing the precious Key?”
Navi strides away, towards the barracks. “The gardens.”
I roll my eyes at the commanding tone of her voice
but launch myself into the air. I skim over the trees that surround the courtyard towards the gardens in the back of the castle. There are several gardens on the grounds; a rose garden, a water garden, and a wild garden. I scan the gardens as I soar over them, searching for any sign of my advisers or the mysterious guest.
As I skim across the hedged walls of the wild garden, my heart skips a beat. Verity’s light brown hair glimmers in the sun as she stoops over a book. She glances up at the sound of my wings, and blocks the sun from her eyes, searching for me. Relief floods through me at the sight of her as I land nearby. She twists, dressed in the oversized trousers and shirt that she usually wears. She’s lovely.
I head towards her, grateful that she can’t read the expressions on my face when I’m in this form. I’m afraid that would give away how much joy I feel at the sight of her. She closes her book as I approach, placing it on top of a nearby stack.
“You came back,” I say softly.
She smiles tentatively. “Don’t sound so surprised. I told you I would come back before I left.”
“I didn’t believe you.” I sit beside her, cocking my head. “What about your fiancé?”
“I don’t have one anymore,” she says casually. Her eyes lock onto mine, as blue as the sky above us.
“Why not?” I ask. I break her gaze and pretend to take in the wild garden.
The wild garden is an apt name for this place. My mother had it planted when she was Queen. She filled it with every flower or blooming tree that ever took her fancy and the gardeners let them grow with wild abandon. Verity found one of the few grassy lawns in the garden, right beside a small koi pond. In such beautiful surroundings, Verity fits in perfectly.
“I didn’t love him. I never did,” she says, sighing.
I look curiously at her. “Then why were you marrying him?”
“My parents were in debt up to their eye balls and he promised me that he would pay it all for them if I married him,” Verity explains, picking at the blades of grass. “It sounds terrible, but I was just trying to help my parents.”