Those were the only words he said with a voice pained and thick from emotion, but I still did not understand.
“Cannot what?” I asked, trying to make sense of his behavior. He ignored my question. I noticed then that his tattoo was gone. I went to ask about it but he spoke again before I could.
“You must take a bath. The servants will assist you. King Ohtar has picked out your attire for this evening. It is a celebratory masquerade ball. You are not to be late,” he finished with a snarl and abruptly moved to leave, but I caught the hem of his black leather tunic.
“Rydan. Please. I need to know,” I ground out through my teeth, trying to stop my trembling hands from shaking any worse.
“They escaped,” he whispered as he quickly walked out.
I dropped to my knees in a whirlwind of emotions. Relief over Rydan? Yes. Hurt over Mycah? Yes, I was hurt. Confused? Yes, certainly. But anger? That was one emotion I did not expect to feel. Perhaps it was the years I had spent building a wall around my heart since the moment Ray passed his cold gaze over me and bitterness that saturated his voice any time he had to speak a word to me.
I was so careful to not let anyone in. Perhaps that was why instead of sorrow filling my heart upon Mycah’s indifference, it was anger. Resentment. It was my fault for letting him in—For letting down my defenses when I knew better!
But even still, anger could not completely mask the love that I felt for him trying to bubble forth like hot lava, ready to devour any form of defense I might rebuild for myself.
Unshed tears strained my eyeballs, but I would not cry. No, I would not. I was happy, overjoyed and ecstatic in fact. How could I not have been after finding out that Rydan was still alive? That he escaped his brutal death from a wicked monster?
And yet...I still stood up malevolently just as a group of slight-figured females walked in. “This way, milady,” one chimed sweetly. I followed blindly, my mind running on overdrive with thoughts.
I had spent two weeks in torturous despair over Mycah’s departure. I had been physically ill, all for what? Nothing? No...No, I refused to believe what we had was gone. My soul would never be the same without its other half. I didn’t understand his words or his behavior, but I would not accept it. Stupid boys.
“The water has been drawn and heated for you. We shall wait for your command,” another elegant dark-haired girl said with a curtsey. The group followed suit and closed the wooden door behind them.
That was when I took notice of my surroundings. A beautiful alabaster tub in the shape of a teardrop sat in the middle of the circular room. I rushed to the window and soaked in the stunning view of the snowy mountains, cut and ragged, stretching toward the sky. The crystal ocean lapped at the base of the shore below. I was in a turret. Like a princess.
I spun around and admired the lofty expanses of marble, glass, and white wood. It looked nothing like I envisioned a Night Elf’s washing room to be.
I pushed my begrudging feelings of Mycah out of my mind so that I could at least enjoy this one comfort. Enjoy the wonderful news of Rydan’s escape. Who knew if I would ever get this chance again? It had been too long since I’d been able to clean myself up, and the steamy water that rose in pretty swirls from the creamy tub had me ripping off my purple gown from the night before.
But as soon as I submerged myself into the purest water imaginable, steeped in vanilla flowers and berries, my tears broke free. I couldn’t do it.
I was more hurt over Mycah’s words and reaction toward my affection than I wanted to let on—than I wanted to admit. I couldn’t push the broken feelings away.
I hated being affected by men like this. I hated that they could make me cry so easily. I wanted to believe I was stronger than anything they could throw at me—but the reality was I truly yearned for Mycah. And only he had the ability to hurt me so deeply.
I slid beneath the surface of scalding water, letting it overtake my body and face completely. His words played over and over in my mind, though I tried to forget them.
After much time spent in the hot water that magically never got cold, and much pampering and doting from the servant girls who refused to talk to me despite how much I tried, I looked over the garment meant just for me.
Gorgeous was an understatement. The pearly silk material glided through my fingers like wind and shimmered in a way that made me bring the dress inches from my face, looking for diamonds.
I slipped it on, but I couldn’t even feel it against my skin. I almost felt nude and had to keep checking to make sure I hadn’t imagined putting it on. Sure enough, I was dressed, and it fit like a sculpted glove.
One of the girls braided my hair in intricate strands weaved around a simple silver garland of violet flowers. Shimmering ribbons fell down my back in curled tendrils. I lifted my arms to examine the sheer sleeves that fell gracefully from my wrists like gowns of old.
Finally, another girl decorated my face with a small glass mask containing an exploding design of violet swirls melted right into it. I felt like a masked Cinderella. Then when they handed me glass slippers, I barked a laugh. They all looked at me in question, but I waved it off. No use explaining that one.
The mask only covered my eyes—it was not a full face mask, yet when I looked at myself in a large bowl of water that transformed into a mirror upon my presence (which I tried really hard not to freak out about), I couldn’t even tell it was me.
I watched the painted sky darken, signaling dusk, and right on cue, the sound of the door opening made my pulse race. Was I ready for this?
“He awaits, My Lady,” one of the girls said. I felt my heart hitch, wondering and hoping that it was Mycah waiting for me out there. I constantly longed to be near him—and I hated it.
But it was only Sarqua. I knowingly displayed my disappointment and didn’t care in the slightest. No one else seemed to notice how sullen I was, because not one person cared to even look at me or acknowledge my existence. Except to point the way I was meant to follow.
So I walked out of the room with Sarqua right behind me and let him pass in the hall to finish leading the way. I ignored my surroundings. I didn’t care to take any more of it in.
I closed my eyes, not knowing if I were about to run into anything, and worked to calm my racing heart. I breathed in the crisp, salty air and let its familiarity soothe my frayed nerves.
At long last, once we entered the same grand room as last night that was just as equally filled with beautiful dancing masked guests, I could no longer contain my carefully controlled demeanor. My eyes took no notice of anything or anyone in the room, except for one and that one thing alone.
Mycah, dressed in a tailored black kingly tunic, wore a devilish black leather mask that accentuated his gorgeous eyes and looked so completely dashing I got tears in my eyes. It, too, only covered his eyes and not his entire sickeningly handsome face.
Standing next to him, King Ohtar whispered something in Mycah’s ear, who stayed perfectly stoic and still. Mycah did not smile. He did not do anything. Ohtar’s action made me notice the tattoo on his neck. My eyes bulged like balloons upon witnessing the intricate design of the Royal Emblem that should only be bestowed upon the current king, etched into who I thought was the false King’s neck—something I learned to be impossible.
Mycah used to have the sword with a weeping willow growing out of the hilt and swirling crown around the base on his neck—why did Ohtar have it now? And why was Mycah with Ohtar so casually? If his uncle was evil and wanted to kill Mycah, then why hadn’t he yet? I had to consciously stop myself from running to him and wrapping my arms around his neck, begging him to tell me every single detail that had happened up until this point. I crossed my arms and bit the inside of my cheek, hating every second I spent away from that sexy elf. Darn him.
A beautiful woman looped her arm through Mycah’s without taking her eyes off the dancing guests in the ballroom, not hiding her benevolent smile. His mother.
I stood watching, biting
back the pang of jealousy I felt bubble up in my chest. I was only jealous because I so desperately wanted to be the one to touch Mycah, even if only for a second.
His eyes dragged to mine, settling on me with precision. A bit of my subconscious expected him to snap away like my appearance burned his pupils, similar to how he acted when I ran to him earlier.
But he did not look away.
The longer I stood staring into the blue abyss of his irises, the more I struggled to keep from drowning in them.
As the world fell away, hours seemed to have passed me by, unable to break from his sultry hold.
That was, until Sarqua yelled at me, “Make haste, Fallaner.” He grabbed my arm and forced me in front of him. Okay, I did not like him. My eyes fell away from Mycah’s once a tall, graceful guest stepped in the way of my view in passing. “Your Majesty awaits. You owe him your allegiance now.”
Pfff—I scoffed inwardly. I didn’t owe that fool squat! When my eyes landed on Ohtar’s and he wore that hideous grin, I shuddered in response and tried not to vomit. I ignored the way his eyes raked over my body like I was a coveted possession, because had I not, he’d be getting punched in the face right then.
And then I’d probably lose my head in a guillotine.
“How lovely of you to join us. Please, stand behind me. You are, after all, my appointed Healer,” he crooned. Ugh, barf. I took my position at his left, a step behind him, and simmered. I couldn’t stop my eyes from flicking to Mycah, who stood inches from me, in line with Ohtar. Mycah stared out over the crowd in a carefully concealed state. His chiseled jaw flexed at the same time his eyes slid to the corners to glare at me from his peripheral.
Dang, he caught me gawking. Even still, my heart floated to my throat at the sight of him and the nearness of him. It was so tempting to reach out and touch the smooth skin of his hand that hung so precariously at his side—begging me—haunting me—calling out to me to just extend my own and grab it!
Electricity flared around me and in the space between us, practically pushing me to demolish the unforgivable distance. It took everything I had to resist—my eyes stayed glued to the soft spot of his wrist despite feeling him watching me. I could feel myself draw closer as I sat staring at his exposed wrist and me not having any control over it-
“Mani naa lle umien?!” Sarqua growled in a whisper next to me as he latched onto my bicep. I jumped from the sudden intrusion on my “Must Touch Mycah” mission. And umm...ow.
I slowly spun around to face him. “What?” I questioned in an irritated tone.
“What are you doing, Fallaner? If you so much as breathe a single breath on King Ohtar I will cut you down where you stand,” he threatened with an icy stare that told me his words were complete truth.
“What does Fallaner mean?” I ignored his question and asked one of my own, because let’s face it. I had no explanation to give for what I had been trying to do. I didn’t even know the answer myself.
“Healer,” he bit out, hating the half a second it took for him to answer me. Oh. I didn’t respond, I just turned back to facing the dancing guests that I could hardly see from my position behind the apparent King and whatever Mycah currently was.
How did this happen? How was it possible that Ohtar had the kingly emblem on his neck, Mycah did not, and Mycah was now a nobody? What the heck?!
“My dearest Lirima, shall I have this dance?” Ohtar crooned to Mycah’s mother.
“I appreciate the kind gesture, My Lord. However, I wish not to leave my dear son to stand here alone. Perhaps another time,” she answered back respectfully and full of grace.
Ohtar flashed his hand upward as if he were about to backhand Queen Lirima across the face, but quickly recovered himself. He looked around the room to see if any of his guests noticed as she kept perfectly in place, not even flinching. None of the guests seemed to see the exchange.
“How dare you speak of him in that way! You know better. He is not your son! He is not your anything! He is my servant and that is that!” Ohtar bit out menacingly in a low voice, then paused to straighten his tunic. “Now, we must be seen dancing! Our guests would enjoy it greatly, do you not agree? Here,” Ohtar snapped his fingers toward me, “Fallaner, you shall also dance with Remycah. See, my dear? All is well.” He held out his elbow to the stunning woman, and she gently took it with a pressed smile and slight nod of her head.
I, on the other hand, lurched forward at his words. What? Dance with Mycah? I was overcome with joy and dread...Dread? Why dread? Maybe it was because I saw Mycah tighten his jaw upon Ohtar’s command, as if the very thought angered him. I didn’t exactly know why I felt dread—but I knew I was about to find out.
Mycah stretched his arm outward with his palm up, inviting me to place my hand in his, and not once did his eyes move to mine. He kept his face and body completely forward while I stepped to what I knew would be a warm, soft, way larger than mine hand.
I carefully placed my dainty palm over his and relished in the exquisite touch. Electricity zapped through my extremities immediately, forcing my eyes to jerk up to his in response. His blue eyes were now on mine, and I felt my heart crumble just a bit. Because there was nothing there, only indifference, as he looked upon me. I didn’t understand why or where it came from, but it was evident once he quickly looked away and clenched his fist that he literally hated to have to look at me—To touch me, to be near me.
I fought back my tears. I fought back the pain it caused. I fought back all the damage I could feel it doing on my nerves and insides.
He led me to the rest of the dancing guests with utmost grace and elegance. I could feel the tension pouring off of him in waves despite his perfect outward appearance. He pulled me to his hard body and slowly laid a trembling hand upon the small of my back while cradling my hand with his other. I was lost in his ocean eyes that stayed on mine—completely devoid of any emotion regardless of the trembling I still felt in his touch.
He was driving me wild.
I felt at a loss for words, because he kept me completely mesmerized in his stare. I didn’t even hear a single note of melody I knew to be surrounding us. I didn’t see a single person out there dancing with us. We were alone. It was just us.
His eyes slowly started to shine brighter and swirl with color—but just as suddenly, his jaw tightened and he looked away from me.
It broke me out of my trance. I shook my head and sent my gaze around the room, trying to distract myself from his closeness. I closed my eyes once his woodsy scent cocooned me and instinctively pressed into him. I felt his hand ball into a tight fist at the small of my back, causing me to open my eyes again.
That was when I noticed we were the only ones dancing the way we were. All the other guests were a step away from each other with one hand flat against each other’s, the males with one arm placed behind their backs, the females along their stomachs.
It was weird. Strange. Foreign.
“Why are we not dancing like them?” I asked Mycah automatically.
“You wouldn’t know how. I thought it best to dance the way you were raised,” he answered in a low, raspy voice. I nodded with understanding.
“Mycah...I...I am so sorry about what happened when I found you and Rydan. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t,” he ground out in a hard whisper.
“Please, I am just trying to explain why—”
“I said don’t,” he repeated as his eyes snapped back to mine in a tumultuous sea-storm. I stifled a gasp. “It means nothing to me. I do not require an explanation.”
“But if that’s why you’re treating me this way then please just tell me so I can apologize and explain!” I could hear myself growing hysterical, so I tried to rein myself in and calm down my nerves.
“It isn’t. I told you why already. You are my enemy. Nothing more.” He tightened his jaw and dropped his gaze to my throat, avoiding my eyes. I saw him take a sharp inhale of breath.
“Mycah...What happened to you?” I
referred to him having been shrouded in darkness before disappearing right in front of me and counted on him knowing what I was talking about. He closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.
The song ended, way too soon, and before I knew what was happening, I was being dragged away by Sarqua.
“Back to your position, Fallaner,” Sarqua ordered. Mycah did not follow. He simply walked out of the grand ballroom through the heavy large doors, never looking back.
I wanted nothing more than to go with him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
~Naminé~
We gained a great distance from the castle by the time dawn broke from the horizon. Calen had almost returned to her usual self, and I could not be more thrilled. It was so disconcerting seeing her struggle to make any sort of natural movement.
She soared above the trees we were journeying through, leaving a fiery trail behind her. It filled my entire spirit with joy being able to watch her from this proximity. I had not received much time with her since the moment we had found each other. I had had to keep her secret and return to my post as a servant of the castle shortly after our first union. It had delayed our bond from forming, but at least I had known that I had her and she in turn had me.
We took to the trees any time there was a cluster of them and avoided open spaces. I taught Rydan which berries and fruit were acceptable to eat out here in the wild forest, for it was all we had. Having come upon a stream only once since we set out on our journey, we were growing thirsty.
“Come. I believe there might be a brook not far from where we are now,” I said to Rydan.
“Is it weird they’re not coming after us? I feel like the boogeyman is about to jump out at any second.” He kept surveying the area restlessly.
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