by Wendi Wilson
“Go away,” I mumbled, pulling the cover back over my head.
The blanket was snatched away, and I sat up with huff and prepared to blast him with the full force of my ire. My eyes widened as I realized we weren’t the only people in the room. Mom, Shaela, and Charles stood just behind him, all wearing matching expressions of stubborn determination.
“What is this, an ambush?” I accused.
“It’s an intervention,” Mom corrected.
“Because we love you,” Shaela added quickly.
“If you loved me, you’d let me sleep,” I groused, laying back against my pillow.
“You’ve been in bed for three days, December. I’d say you’ve slept long enough,” Dad said, his voice stern.
“Three days?”
I flew back into a sitting position, looking at each of their faces with wide eyes. No way had I been in bed for three days. I would know if that much time had passed. Right?
“What day is it?” I asked, my voice much softer than before.
“It’s Friday,” Charles offered.
“Friday?” I repeated in a soft whisper.
How the hell was it Friday? I’d had my outburst in the dining hall on Tuesday, and it felt like only a handful of hours had passed since then.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Shaela rolled her eyes. “Of course, we’re sure. We’ve been existing in the land of the living. You’re the one who’s been out of it. Don’t you remember me trying to wake you up the last three mornings to go to class?”
I shook my head. I vaguely remembered her nudging me, but I’d just brushed her off and gone back to sleep. Had someone drugged me?
“No one drugged you, December,” Mom said, making me realize I had asked the question out loud. “You’re depressed.”
“And now it’s time to put your big girl panties on and get back to living,” Shaela added, propping her fists on her hips.
Ouch. Talk about tough love.
The sound of my stomach growling echoed through the room, and my face heated with embarrassment. I was hungry. And not just regular it’s-been-too-long-since-I-last-ate hunger. My gut felt cavernously empty…like I hadn’t eaten in three days.
I also had to use the restroom. Bad.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood, only to fall right back on my butt. My vision swam in and out of focus, and I gripped my head in an attempt to stop the spinning.
“Here, let me help you,” Mom said, stepping forward and linking an arm under one of mine.
She slowly helped me stand, then led me to the restroom. Once I finished up and washed my hands, I looked in the mirror and flinched. I looked like hell warmed over. Tangled, bushy hair, dark bags under my eyes, and a sallow complexion met my stare.
“I need a shower,” I said.
“Food first,” Mom replied, linking her arm back through mine.
“You really scared us,” she whispered as we made our way back down the hall. “We thought we’d lost you for a while there.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just…”
“I know,” she said when my words trailed off. “I felt the same way when my father told me the lies about Cris. I didn’t want to believe he’d used and abandoned me. When it sank it that he wasn’t coming back, I fell into the darkness, too.”
“What brought you out of it?” I asked.
“You did,” she said, giving me a wink. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was over the moon. I couldn’t have Cris, but I had a piece of him growing inside me. I decided you would be the new love of my life.”
We reached the bedroom before I could form a response, so I just returned her soft smile. The scent of fried chicken hit my nostrils and I groaned with pleasure. Stepping inside, I saw a small table and chair had been conjured up. A large plate of chicken, mashed potatoes and green vegetables sat in front of the chair, which my father was holding out for me.
“Thank you,” I said as I slipped into the chair.
I really did appreciate that they cared about me enough to give me some much-needed tough love, but it was going to take a lot more than a wake-up call and some fried food to pull me out of the deep well of depression I was floating in.
I ate a few bites of chicken and some potatoes, my stomach clenching after being empty for so long. But it seemed to satisfy my parents enough to leave me be for the moment. They said their goodbyes after making me promise to meet them in the gym later. I swore I would just to get them to leave so I could talk to Shaela. Charles took the hint and left right behind them.
“So, three days, huh?” I mumbled as she plopped onto her bed.
“It was scary, D. I felt like I was watching you slip away, and when I couldn’t get you to respond in any way, I had to call in the big guns.”
“You told on me to my parents,” I said, giving her a soft smile.
“Damned straight, I did,” she shot back, smirking.
“Thank you.”
“Any time, bestie,” she said. “Are you going to be okay, now?”
“I don’t know, Shae. I mean, I’m not in danger of starving to death anymore,” I said, motioning toward the plate of food, “but I’m still in a dark place. Easton is still gone, and we still can’t go after him. Unless that’s changed?”
She flinched at the hope in my voice before gently shaking her head. Nothing had changed. I felt the urge to climb back into bed, but fought it, taking another bite from my chicken instead. Silence fell between us as I finished eating.
When I couldn’t take another bite, I pushed the plate away. Shaela jumped up and went to my chest of clothes, rummaging through my stuff before coming out with a fresh pair of black leggings and a form-fitting t-shirt.
She prattled on about classes being over for the day and having the whole weekend to catch me up on what I’d missed during my “nap,” as she called it, air-quotes and all. She helped me back to the bathroom since I was still feeling a bit weak, then sat outside the shower and waited until I’d washed everything from my hair to my toes.
When I stepped out of the stall, clean and dried and dressed, I felt a lot better. Not perfect, but better.
“Thanks, Shaela,” I said again, feeling so blessed to have a best friend like her.
“Always,” she said. “I’ll always be here for you, D. Just like you were for me when I was going through everything with Grandfather. You never gave up, never turned your back on me. That’s what friends are for. And I will always have your back, even when you’re being a clinically depressed jerk who won’t get out of bed.”
I chuckled, and she grinned back at me.
My humor faded quickly as I stared at her, and the darkness closed back in. First, I’d lost Rowan. Then, Easton, quickly followed by Finn. What if I lost Shaela, too?
The desire to head straight back to my bed crashed into me, but I forced it back. I couldn’t do that to Shaela, who was convinced she’d made real progress in making me better again. She would be devastated if I fell back into that dark place.
So instead, I assured her I was okay and headed to the gym on my own, where I was sure my parents waited for me. My feet scuffed slowly across the floors of the hall, more from dread than actual physical weakness.
Mom and Dad were going to try to get me back to my old self. And I didn’t know if I would ever be her again.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Nine
31
“I thought we’d start with water. Something simple. Conjure a cloud, then make it rain.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, but just barely. I didn’t see the point. We weren’t going to fight Sebille. And if she came to us, well, I doubted Alwyn would even let us join the skirmish. He seemed intent on making sure we were completely neutralized. No matter the cost.
I made no move to follow Dad’s instructions. I just stood there, staring at the wooden slats on the gym floor.
“December.”
The disap
pointment in Mom’s soft voice cut me deep on a soul-slicing level. My shoulders curled inward as I wrapped my arms across my waist.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” I mumbled.
“You can’t, or you won’t?” Dad asked, moving forward to stand in front of me.
He grasped my chin with his fingers and lifted so I had no choice but to look into his eyes. They flickered from their Glamoured-blue color to black and back again. Both versions held the same emotion—worry.
“I just don’t feel like it,” I said.
I knew I was being a brat. They had suffered loss, too, yet they were completely focused on me and my mental well-being. They wanted me to really live. And though I was alive, what I was doing was not living.
“You are strong enough to get past this,” Dad murmured, “but you have to want to. Not for me, or your mom, or Shaela, or even Easton. You have to want to do it for yourself.”
I nodded and he released his grip on my chin. Mom came over to stand beside him, her diamond and sapphire engagement ring sparkling under the gymnasium lights. My gaze locked onto it, thinking about how happy she was when Dad gave it to her.
And I’d snuffed that happiness out with one dark spiral into despair and hopelessness. She didn’t deserve to suffer for my misery. Neither did Dad.
“Okay,” I whispered, then focused on my magic.
Cooperating was the least I could do to make up for it.
I called to water, picturing a large, fluffy white cloud forming above us. The humidity in the gym spiked as a mist rolled in, quickly thickening into the cloud I’d imagined.
The cloud darkened as I pumped more magic into it, and within a few seconds, a light rain pattered down on us. It was cool and refreshing, and I turned my face up to fell the drops against my cheeks.
When I looked back, I caught Mom’s smile and Dad’s dimples, both of their expressions filled with joy and pride. On pure instinct, I lunged forward and wrapped them both in a hug. I loved them so much, and I never wanted them to be disappointed in me again.
As they laughed and hugged me back, a crack of thunder echoed around us and the light rain exploded into a torrential downpour. I barked out a laugh and pulled away from them, and the rain slowed to a light sprinkling.
“Oops,” I said, smiling.
I released the elemental magic, and the cloud above us dissipated. Mom waved an arm and a warm gust of wind twirled around us, drying the floor.
I marveled at how light I felt. I was still sad and angry and worried over Easton, but I didn’t feel like I had no choice but to wallow in bed anymore. I felt…okay.
And okay was way better than I was this morning.
I watched Mom as she let go of the wind, her eyes shining brightly with the joy of using magic. I wondered if I look liked that when I used it. When she caught my gaze, I had a flashback to the attack, and the sorrow in her eyes when we talked about Puck’s part in it.
“How are you doing?” I asked. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own misery, I haven’t asked you that, have I? I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“But…your dad…”
She shook her head firmly and said, “I spent much of my life without him. I’m sad he’s gone, and I’m disappointed in his choices, but I am okay. I promise. I have you and Cris now, and you’re all need.”
I realized I could learn a lot from her. She made the best of her situation, no matter what terrible things happened to her. She lost her true love, so she turned that love toward her unborn child. She lost that child, so she took a job helping childless humans and orphans find each other to form loving families.
And in the end, she found us both again.
“I need to go,” I said, holding up a hand when they both opened their mouths to argue. “I’m not going back to bed, I promise. I just have a lot to think about—some choices to make. Thank you for this. I love you both.”
I darted from the gym and ran down the hall toward the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I kept going until I reached the top, only slowing when I entered the conservatory. The place seemed deserted, which was good. I wanted to be alone.
I found the patch of grass near the stream where I’d picnicked with Easton, and plopped down onto my butt. The fragrance of flowers was heady, and I inhaled deeply, feeling a little more at peace.
I thought about my life and the path I was currently on. I had my parents and Shaela by my side, and I knew they’d stand there no matter what. I could finish out my education and move on with my life.
A life that didn’t include Easton. And no matter that I was only seventeen, I knew in my heart that I would never love again. No one would ever compare to him, and much like my parents, I would opt to live a life of solitude rather than settle for less.
I could be a social worker, like Mom was, helping orphaned children find loving homes. And making sure they never end up like I did, with creepy drug addicts like the Holts. I could make a difference.
But then I thought about the path I’d been on before Easton was kidnapped and Finn died. I was training to defeat Sebille. When and if that happened, I would be queen of the Zephyrs. I could squash everything she had put into motion and end the subjugation of the human race.
With Easton as king of the Sylphs, we would work together to end the animosity between the two races of Fae. There would be peace and harmony and we’d all work together to heal the planet and help the humans create new sources of industry that wouldn’t put them right back where they started.
Talk about making a difference…
I hopped to my feet and watched as a leaf meandered on the slow current of the stream. Did I want to be like that leaf? Following where life took me and just accepting things as they were? Like I had no choices?
Or did I want to put myself on my own path? Fight for what I believed in and grab hold of the future I wanted?
I barked out a short laugh at my internal debate. It was a total no-brainer.
I wanted a life worth living.
I wanted to make my own choices, guide my own actions, and deliver my own results.
I wanted Easton.
I left the conservatory feeling lighter than I’d felt in a really long time. I would no longer flounder, accepting the decisions of those around me who didn’t have my best interests, or those of anyone else for that matter, at heart.
Me, Shaela, my parents, Charles…we were all smart, talented Fae, and I knew if we put our heads together we could come up with plan that would keep everyone safe.
I set off to find them all and let them know—Operation Rescue Easton was back on. No matter what.
Chapter One Hundred Thirty
32
“But what about Alwyn’s threats against Freya?”
Shaela posed the question after I’d gathered them all up in my parents’ room and told them I wanted to go ahead with the plan. That, and sneaking out of the academy without the king’s knowledge were the two main points I hadn’t figured out.
Dad had placed another privacy spell over us, just in case Tiana was lurking around, looking or information to pass along to Alwyn. I didn’t even want to think about how he rewarded her for her spy skills.
Gross.
“I’m sure we can come up with something if we put our heads together,” I said. “There has to be a way.”
“Well, the threat of your magical vengeance stopped him before,” Shaela smirked.
I smiled back, thinking of Alwyn wetting himself when I’d shown him a powerful display. Then my smile fell.
“I don’t think that’ll work. He’s let his new title and power go to his head. He thinks he’s invincible, sitting on his throne with the council firmly in his corner. I could threaten him all I want and he’d still hurt her to spite me. By the time we return, it could be too late.”
“We could kill him,” Charles suggested.
His face was devoid of emotion, like h
e was stating a simple fact. I shook my head.
“If we kill him without justification, we’ll be executed. Or sent to that Fae reformatory place.”
“Oh, I think we’d be justified,” Shaela added, her eyes flashing.
“No one is killing the king,” Dad interjected, ending the debate. “December is right. Our dislike of him and his actions is not a defensible motive for murder. Someone would have to do something really terrible, something that threatened the population as a whole for the council to condone the murder of any Sylph, much less the king.”
“Then what can we do?” Mom asked the room at large.
The door swung inward, revealing a very fierce-looking Freya. Her blonde hair was neatly braided, her clothes clean, and the dark circles under her silver eyes were nearly gone.
“You can stop worrying about me, and go get my son back,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
“How did she—”
“How did I overhear your conversation through your privacy screen?” she asked, cutting Charles off. “I am the daughter of Finn Oberon and the mother of the true king. Oberon blood runs through my veins, as does the power. I am stronger than you think.”
The silence was deafening as we all stared at her in awe. Gone was the frail woman we’d all perceived her to be, cowering in the shadow of her overbearing husband. Before us was a powerful Sylph royal, her eyes flashing with intensity.
“But…” I started but couldn’t finish.
I didn’t know what to say. A small smile graced her lips as she moved further into the room.
“I have held many feelings for my husband over the years, but fear for myself has never been among them. Despite what he would have everyone believe, he has never harmed me.”
“But Easton said…and you’re so…” I stuttered out.
“Timid? Fragile? Defeated? Only one of those is true. I was defeated, but not for the reasons you think. I will tell you everything, but you must know, everything I did was for my son and the Sylph community.”