by Lexi C. Foss
“You become depressed.”
“Well, yes, but I mean beyond that. Surely you’ve heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Where if you believe something enough, you’ll make it happen.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s what these tormented essences do. They warp you into believing you’re evil, despicable, a failure, until all you want to do is die. And then maybe you forget to eat. You forget how to live, thereby killing your body while your spirit remains.”
“That’s a horrible way to go,” I whispered.
“It’s a horrible thing to observe,” he countered.
“But I thought the Spirit Fae all died in one day,” I said, recalling the story Exos once told me. “That my mother and Mortus fought, and nearly ninety percent of the Spirit Fae died as a result?”
He tilted his chin once. “Yes. But it was as if they all lost the will to live at once, and just stopped. Their spirits rose, leaving their bodies to rot, and that’s what we buried. Only, the souls eventually came back, but their hosts were no longer viable, leaving them in this constant state of turmoil.”
“So could they ever be rejoined?” I asked, picturing hundreds of zombie bodies being repossessed by dead spirits. That sounded… bad.
Fortunately, Cyrus negated the idea with a swift shake. “No. There’s nothing that can be done for them now. We just have to wait for their spirits to move on, except they seem unable to, as the circle of life has been so vastly disrupted. As I said, you’re the youngest of our kind. No other females have been able to conceive since that day, and what’s worse, it’s spreading.”
“To the Earth Fae.”
“Indeed,” he agreed, giving me a nudge to move forward again. “One trip to the death fields won’t hurt you, Claire. You just have to remember to tune them all out, and don’t believe anything you hear.”
I took several steps before a thought struck me so hard in the chest I stumbled again. “You think Mortus has been keeping Exos here?” The words came out on a gasp, Cyrus’s grip on my hip the only thing keeping me upright.
He gazed down at me with a tired expression, one that bespoke of his own fears—ones he’d clearly been hiding even from himself.
“You tried to find him last night,” I realized out loud, reading the true exhaustion and knowledge in his gaze, felt it creeping along our bond as he fought futilely to hold it back. “You couldn’t sense him above the chaos of the voices.”
He didn’t reply because he didn’t have to. I sensed everything I needed to through our fresh link—the guilt, the exasperation, the utter notion of failure, and the most important one of all, regret.
“You don’t want me to have to do this.” It was right there at the forefront of his thoughts, the hatred at what he needed to do, but his loyalty to Exos outweighed his regard for me. And it was something I had to respect, to understand, and I did. “You’re doing the right thing, Cyrus.”
“Am I?” he asked, cupping my cheek. “Was binding us the right thing?”
It provided me with fresh insight into his decisions, helped me respect some of his choices even if I didn’t agree with them. “I guess we’ll find out,” I said, placing my hand over his. “Take me into the death fields, Cyrus. I’ll let you know what I sense.”
He dipped his head to whisper his lips over mine. “Thank you, Claire.”
A tenuous agreement formed between us, one founded in a like-minded goal—to find Exos.
As we walked, I wondered if this openness between our minds was normal, because I hadn’t felt that way with Titus during our first stage. Same with Exos. But I could read Cyrus clear as day, and he’d made it obvious he could access me just as easily.
“It’s not,” he admitted, again hearing my thoughts, or perhaps openly assessing them. “But water is a fluid element; it’s clear and concise and always consistent. It makes sense that our bond would resemble those qualities.”
I could understand that—the purity and clarity of water thriving between us.
It was the complete opposite of the opaqueness at the end of this path, standing maybe ten feet away. I gulped at the sight of it, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Power lurked beyond that threshold.
Not the good kind, but the bad. I could feel the inky quality rubbing along my skin, giving me the sensation of wrongness and urging me to turn around.
Something isn’t right here, I thought to myself. But still I kept moving, my need to see if I could even pick up a trace of Exos forcing me onward. Because if he resided in this field, it was a wonder he still breathed.
“He’s strong,” Cyrus whispered. “He always has been. But if he pushed you out, it was for a reason.”
“And you suspect this is why.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you follow Mortus to?” I asked, needing to focus, to ground myself. Because already I could feel my soul being twisted as if invisible hands had entered my being to stroke me from within.
And we weren’t even inside yet.
“I’ll show you,” Cyrus said, his touch falling away from my back, to my arm, and down to my palm, where he linked our fingers. “Don’t let go of me, Claire.”
“I won’t.” I squeezed his hand for emphasis and allowed him to lead me over the threshold. Moss instantly encased my feet, sliding over my shoes and up my socks. Yet when I looked down, I saw nothing but gravel.
Strange.
Cyrus continued moving, and I struggled alongside him, my ears clouding with a buzzing energy that hummed inside my mind.
Not words, no.
Just a constant sizzling that left me squinting into the foggy chasm. I blinked to clear it, but that didn’t help. All I saw were writhing creatures, smoke and brimstone, and a darkness that threatened to swallow me whole.
I tried to ask Cyrus to explain but found myself alone, his hand no longer in mine.
Whirling around, I sought his presence, only to see miles and miles of clouds in all directions. The ground began to shake, my name a chant on the wind.
Cyrus…
I couldn’t sense him.
Couldn’t breathe.
What’s happening?
The moss was climbing again, still invisible, but there. It drove through the fibers of my clothes, seeping into my veins and painting my blood in shades of black.
I shook in time with the ground, my soul screaming at me to run. But I didn’t know where to go. I couldn’t remember where I’d entered, couldn’t focus on anything other than the impending doom surrounding me.
Tears streaked down my face.
My heart raced.
The world blinked in and out.
And all I could do was fall, fall, fall… into nothingness. And everything. And bittersweet darkness.
My home.
Cyrus
Fuck!
Now I knew what Mortus had been up to last night. He’d set a fucking trap. And not for me, but for Claire.
I wrapped my arms around her, tugging harshly against some unknown force. It seemed to be sucking the elements right out of her, as if starving for her life. And it was fucking killing her.
Her skin turned ashen, her breath stuttering between blue lips. It’d all happened so quickly, her body whirling around in a violent circle as her life drained before my eyes.
“Claire!” I shouted.
Nothing.
Not even an acknowledgment.
Just a limp, boneless body collapsing into mine.
I had to get her out of here. But that force had its claws so deep into her, preventing me from moving. So I did the only thing I could think to do. I misted.
Water overwhelmed my senses, transforming me into a breeze that allowed me to traverse kingdoms via magical means. Only, I’d never taken another being with me before.
Come on, I urged, thickening my energy and forcing it to overwhelm Claire. A hint of her water responded, as if a hand was forming from within her and reaching for me. I grasped it with my mind
, locking our element together in a whirlpool of power.
My chest ached beneath the force of it, a connection forming that surpassed time and space, but it was the only way to free her from that violent hold.
I felt it now. The inky abyss sucking her into a black hole of malevolence, stripping her of her gifts, and cascading her to the darkest depths of the ocean floor.
Not on my watch, asshole! I shoved the shadow back with a tidal wave so strong that the being—trap—thing—unlatched, releasing Claire to my superior strength, causing me to stumble backward in mist form.
I didn’t think; I acted.
My power wrapped around her in earnest, forcing her to disintegrate into water molecules that I could manipulate, and I took her with me to the only place I knew would help.
We collapsed in a bedchamber I never used.
In a kingdom I rarely visited.
The cascade of falls graced my vision, a fountain running in the corner with renewed vigor at my presence, as an unconscious Claire lay in my arms.
Crashing booms echoed outside the chambers, the guards sensing the presence of a powerful fae and rushing to defend their territory. The doors flew open, a Water Fae with broad shoulders and thick thighs plowed inside.
“Who are—” His mouth actually fell open at the sight of me on the floor with a nearly dead female clasped tightly to my chest. “My Prince.” He dropped to his knee, head bowed. Most referred to me as their king. Here they called me Prince for my water birthright, one I’d rejected. But today I needed his help.
Everyone followed suit, their dismay clear.
But none of them possessed the presence or power I needed.
“My father,” I rasped. “I need my father.”
Chaos erupted around us. Shouts ensued. But all of my focus was on the too-cold woman in my arms.
Guilt pounded through my thoughts. I should have known Mortus wouldn’t lead me to Exos so easily, that he knew I was following him last night.
Damn it to the Elements!
“Claire,” I whispered, rocking her helplessly and feeling her life escape between my fingers. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Exos trusted me to guard her, to protect her, and I’d led her to her own fucking slaughter.
And I still didn’t know what caused it or how that shadowy thing had sucked the life from her. The death fields embodied so many nightmares, but nothing like that. It had reminded me of a vampire, something so starved for the elements that it’d hooked itself into Claire and drank freely of her power.
How?
What monstrosity had Mortus created? And why had it only attacked Claire?
“Son?” My father’s voice held a note of concern, his confusion written into the lines of his face. His formal attire suggested I’d interrupted something important, but the way he came to his knees before me said he didn’t care. “Is this…?”
“Claire,” I breathed. “I took her to the death fields, looking for Exos, and something attacked her. It sucked the elements right out of her. I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
He placed his palm on her forehead and closed his eyes. “She’s weak,” he agreed.
An understatement. I could see the tendrils of her soul threatening to leave her body, the fear etched into her essence palpable. Hang on, little queen, I whispered. I’m going to fix this.
Somehow, some way, I would uphold that promise to her. I had to. Exos was counting on me. Claire, too.
“Your bond is strong,” he marveled, tilting his head to the side. “Very strong for being so fresh.”
“It was an accident,” I admitted, ashamed now more than ever. She deserved so much better. “We briefly kissed and it formed.”
His blue eyes—the same color as my own—focused on me, his brow crinkling. “You’re in the third stage, son.”
I blinked. “What? No. We just… It’s new… I mean…” What? I checked the connection, mortification and horror swimming through my veins. “Oh, Elements…” He was right. When I grasped for her element to mist her here, we’d bonded. Irrevocably binding our souls, proclaiming unspoken vows of eternity.
It was deeper than her link to Exos.
He’s going to kill me.
Fuck, Claire is going to kill me.
“You must finish it,” my father urged. “It’s the only way. I can feel the others she’s reached out to, but there’s no time to bring them here. She’ll die.”
“Finish it?” I repeated, my heart skipping a beat. “Finish the bond?” Without her permission?
“She needs your strength, Cyrus. Without the lifeline, she’ll never recover. It might already be too late.”
Sprites, this is bad. Very, very bad.
“You don’t have time. Either you save her or you don’t. But wallowing in your fate will cost the girl her life.” There was the father I knew—direct and to the point without a hint of remorse. He might as well have said I dug my own grave by initiating this link to begin with.
Which, yeah, he’d be right.
“What if she rejects it?” I asked, noting the very real chance of that happening.
“Her elements rule her now, and there’s no better water match in this world than the rightful Water King,” he replied, a challenge in his tone, daring me to contradict him. For once, I didn’t take the bait. This wasn’t about my conflicting destiny or the fact that my power outweighed his and all other Water Fae. This was about saving Claire.
“Tell me what I need to do,” I said, my choice already made.
I couldn’t leave her to suffer, couldn’t allow her to die because of my mistake.
Maybe I deserved a future of unrequited love.
At least Exos would be happy.
And Claire.
This was not the right recourse—bonding an unconscious female was the epitome of taboo—but what choice did I have? She needed a lifeline, and I was the only one available.
“Prepare the ceremonial chambers,” my father demanded, causing fae to scatter. “This has to be done right and quickly.”
I nodded, knowing what he meant. The best way to guarantee that Claire’s element accepted mine was to make her feel at peace.
She was so cold and small in my arms, her skin a now bluish tint.
I hated seeing her this way, hated more that I’d caused this through my own urgency to finish this task. Mortus may have set the trap, but I knew better than to step into it.
I’m sorry, Exos, I thought, knowing full well he couldn’t hear me.
He wasn’t anywhere near those death fields. I felt it now through the bond with Claire that Exos remained somewhere safe and untainted. Had I taken two minutes to prod her a little deeper earlier, after our initial connection, I would have sensed that.
But instead I’d led her astray.
“Come,” my father said, his palm a brand against my shoulder.
I cradled Claire against my chest and stood, following him without a word, knowing what this meant.
Not only would I be taking on an unwilling queen, but we were mating under the element of water. Which stirred an entirely different problem, one I would acknowledge later. Because if I thought about the ramifications now, I’d run. And Claire didn’t deserve that.
Fuck, she didn’t deserve any of this.
She was not the son of two powerful bloodlines. My future was never hers to bear.
Although, now she would have no choice.
And I hated myself all the more.
I’d wanted to push her to greatness, but not like this, not by forcing her to become the Water Fae Queen.
My father’s mate—Coral—met us in the hallway, her black hair spun high on her head and clipped with pink shells. A beautiful woman, one admired by many. But the way she looked at me bespoke of our history, her trepidation of getting too close to the true heir of the Water Kingdom throne.
She was my mother’s replacement after the plague took her life.
And I’d never given her a chance to be anyone else
.
“Cyrus,” she said, bowing her head in a manner of respect she bestowed on few others.
“Coral,” I returned, the usual acid in my tone gone in favor of the female curled into my core.
She eyed Claire with interest, her lack of questions suggesting she’d already been informed of what was happening.
Time seemed to be escaping me by the minute, Claire’s life hanging on by a thread I desperately held on to. I could feel the presence of the others, all lending their elements to her in a vain attempt to bolster her reserves. With every passing moment, I sensed the veracity of my father’s claim.
Claire needed a fully bonded mate to provide her with the strength she required to survive.
And while she’d probably prefer it to be Titus, not even he could bring her back now.
She needed royal blood.
My blood.
A room adorned in plants and life opened before us, the altar situated at the foot of a giant waterfall. I’d only been here once—the day my father took his new bride in the mating-bond ceremony.
It was one of the worst days of my life, rivaling the funeral of my mother.
And I’d not set foot in these palace walls since.
That would change today, my obligation to the Water Kingdom bearing down on me with the weight of a thousand waves.
I laid Claire on the podium, brushed the blonde hair from her face, and bent to press my forehead to her icy one.
“Hang on, little queen.” There were preparations required, the need for a fae priestess to initiate the ceremony. All I could do now was pray we weren’t too late.
Because my father was right. I could feel it now, the need to finish this, to give her what she required. But it was on Claire to accept it. To accept me.
And after our tenuous relationship, I wouldn’t be surprised if she told me to mist off.
In which case, Elements help us all…
Sol
What the hell was that? I thought, bleary-eyed and dazed.
I slept like a rock—literally—but the explosion that flashed behind my eyelids had me shooting straight up in a cold sweat.