by Deanna Chase
“Not at all.”
I turned my back to him, lifting my hair. The cold cream and Cheney’s rough fingers made contact with my flesh, and I tried not to hold my breath.
“Where are we going tonight?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“Um…” His thumb ran down my spine, making me bite my lip. “What was your question again?”
“Tonight, where are we going?”
He stepped back. “Well, officially we’re in hiding and it would be irresponsible to leave.”
“Oh.” I struggled to keep disappointment from my tone.
“But I think I can make it work. I need a little more time, however.”
“So you want me to leave?”
“I will come to your door and pick you up.” His eyes twinkled with excitement.
I didn’t want to disappoint him with my doubts, so I forced a smile and went back to my room. I grabbed my headphones and lay on my bed, wishing Cheney hadn’t confiscated my cell phone. I really wanted to talk to friends. I closed my eyes and let the music carry me away.
Fingers ran down my cheek in a slow caress. I blinked my eyes open.
“Did I fall asleep?”
He smiled and nodded. The expression on his face stole my breath. Such naked, undisguised love and tenderness shone in his eyes. It made me feel radiant. I traced his cheek line with my hand, mimicking his touch. What happened between the two of us? Why would I ever have left?
He sighed. “Are you ready?” I flashed my most dazzling smile and nodded. He helped me up and tugged me into his arms. We appeared in the same forest where the day’s exercises had taken place, only it didn’t look same. White lights sparkled from every tree branch as if Chaney had pulled stars from the sky just for me. It took me a moment to realize it, but they were moving, twinkling, and dancing across the branches.
“Is this magic?” I breathed, amazed at the amount of power it would take.
Cheney laughed. The musical sound made the lights move faster. “No.”
I looked at the small, white table with a small lantern in the center. He hadn’t used candles had he? He’d burn the place down.
Cheney put his hand on the small of my back and leaned in. My head tilted toward him and his breath tickled my ear. “Don’t look so worried.” Those unimaginably soft lips, contrasting with the rough stubble, brushed just behind my jaw and I thought I might melt. His hand drifted around me and pulled me tighter to him. “Wood nymphs.”
“Mmm.” I had no idea what he was talking about and didn’t particularly care at the moment. I leaned against him and he continued his trail down my neck.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked between soft, fluttering kisses.
When he paused, I remembered he’d asked me something. “What?
Cheney chuckled and released me from his embrace. “The lights are wood nymphs.”
I still wasn’t sure what those were, but I took in the beauty surrounding me. “Are they always here?”
“No, they’re doing me a favor.”
“Are they elves?”
He shook his head. “Fae. Part of our kingdom.”
I let that sink in as he pulled out a chair for me. “But they had a choice to come, right? You didn’t make them?”
He smiled and sat down across from me. “No one makes wood nymphs do anything they don’t want to do. They’re romantics, though. It wasn’t a hard sell.” He removed the silver warming dishes from over our plates. Before me sat a thick steak, grilled asparagus with a butter sauce, and new potatoes. The wafting aromas made my mouth water. “So how do we do this? I haven’t dated in,” he raised his eyebrows, “a while.”
I smiled back. “You’re doing fine. Everything looks perfect.” I picked up my knife and cut a small piece off the steak. Pink juice seeped from it, and my stomach turned. I wasn’t a vegetarian, but I couldn’t handle meat rare. It disgusted me. “Tell me about yourself.” I discretely removed the piece of steak from my fork and moved on to the asparagus.
He shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Well, how old are you? How long do elves live?”
His mouth twisted in amusement. “Hoping I’ll make you a widow?”
I gave a half shrug. “At least we’d stop fighting.” We both laughed, and relief that he got my humor settled in my core.
“Elves live a very long time. Too long for you to conceive the duration.”
“Are you immortal?”
“No, I can die. However, we’re the closest living thing to it.”
“But you only had one sibling?”
“Yes. There are very few elf children.”
“What about your mom? You have spoken of your father, but never your mother.”
“She died during childbirth with my sister. She had a weak constitution.”
“I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand and he watched me like I was a fascinating creature he had never seen. “Did you know my mother?”
He took a bite of his bloody steak, and I struggled not to retch or look away. “She died before I met you.”
“And she was human?”
“Yes.”
“But she lived with elves?”
He shook his head. “No, humans cannot live with elves. After she died, your father made arrangements for you.”
“So before that my father lived with the human world?”
“Elves do not live in the human world,” he said carefully.
My eyebrows pulled together. If humans couldn’t live with elves and elves couldn’t live with humans, how was I here? Before I could ask any more questions, he cut me off.
“By the time I met you, you were an adult. You didn’t have a relationship with your father, and your mother had been dead for decades.”
“So when you found my grandma—er, Edith—was that because of the changeling thing?”
“Not exactly. You were so disconnected from your elf family that I thought maybe you would have more of a connection with your human relations and it would calm your wild streak.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell Sy I was alive? Because I wasn’t close to him?” I took my last bit of potatoes and laid my fork down.
Cheney sighed. “Is there something wrong with your steak?”
I looked down guiltily at the untouched slab of meat. “I’m not very hungry.”
He frowned like he wanted to argue, but he pressed his lips together instead and looked down.
I let the other questions bubbling inside of me fall dormant. I wasn’t being a very fun date, questioning him about the past, but I didn’t know what else to talk about. What did I have in common with a thousand-year-old, or whatever, elf? Everything we had in common seemed to be rooted in the past. A trickle of jealousy streamed through me at the thought of how much he must have loved her to be here with me now.
“Did I lose you?” Cheney’s voice broke through my thoughts.
I looked up, surprised by the sadness in his voice. “I’m still here.”
“Are you?”
Any sympathy I had washed away. He wasn’t talking about me. I swallowed my sigh. “I feel a headache coming on. Do you mind if we go back up to the house?”
He stared at me for several moments, then stood and offered his hand. Back in the living room, I escaped from his touch as quickly as I could. I was falling much too fast and hard for someone who was in love with a person I would never be.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to see each other romantically,” I said, staring out the window with my back to him.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?”
“I’m not mad.” I just wasn’t the one he wanted.
“Was it the food?”
His statement was so absurd, I turned around. “What?”
“It was always your favorite. I thought you’d enjoy it.”
“You think I’d be upset over something that petty? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, y
ou’re upset about something. I’m doing the best I can. Damn it, do you think this is easy? Do you think I want to have to woo you again? Everything is not about you. I’m part of this relationship, too. You’ve never been able to remember that.”
Cheney’s eyes flashed and his features smoothed as his glamour slipped. I stepped back as he continued to talk with his hands.
“If I can move beyond all the mistakes we both made in the past then so can you. If you don’t want to date anymore, that’s fine with me, but you’re still my wife and always will be,” Cheney’s voice grew louder, and the room filled with static.
“Maybe we just aren’t meant to be,” I said quietly.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You may not want to admit it, but memories or not you still want me.”
“I don’t think I do,” I told him flatly, holding back angry, sad tears.
Cheney became still—too still. His entire body was tense as he looked at me with wild eyes. At least when he was yelling I knew what he was thinking. This quiet stare down made the hair on my neck stand up. I forced myself not to look down as a feral anger burned in his eyes until there was nothing else left. He started to speak a couple times but stopped himself. Finally, he threw his hands up and disappeared.
My heart thudded in my chest, and my hands and legs shook as I went to my room. Curling myself into a fetal position underneath the covers, I still didn’t allow my tears to fall.
This was for the best.
You couldn’t start a relationship with so much baggage you needed a moving company to carry it.
Chapter 20
My headphones were on the nightstand, waiting for me like an old friend. I wouldn’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity, so I changed my clothes and took my iPod with me. Once outside I began to run. It was dark out, with only the moon and stars providing the light, yet I could see fine. The realization that something else had changed in me against my will fueled my anger. All the sadness about Cheney not loving me evaporated. How dare he yell at me?
I pushed myself harder and faster. The thump of my feet striking against the ground was the only thing that soothed me. I went in and out of trees, low hanging braches slapping against me, but I didn’t care—I only ran faster. I wanted nothing more than to be free of the skin that bound me.
The forest ended and I continued to run at top speed, not knowing what I would find on the other side. It was exhilarating. Faster and harder, I propelled myself forward—away from the thoughts of Cheney, away from the desire to call my friends, away from the destiny I did not want. Out of nowhere, something collided with me, rolling me across the ground and knocking the wind from my lungs. Gasping for breath, I found that my shoulder and leg that took most of the impact burned. I struggled off the ground to face my attacker. My few days of training failed me, as I was completely unaware of my surroundings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cheney growled.
I was both relieved I was not really being attacked and furious he knocked me over. “Mind your own business. I can’t even go for a run without you tackling me?”
“I did not wait twenty-six years for you to watch you kill yourself.”
I was about to roll my eyes and tell him what an overprotective bastard he was. He had no right to keep me prisoner here—his wife or not. Then I noticed where we were. I’d been running full speed toward the edge of a cliff.
“Last I checked you couldn’t fly,” Cheney added snidely.
No retort was within my grasp. The rocky, tree-laden bottom would have broken and crushed me beyond recognition. A small voice in my head pointed out how exhilarating the fall would have been though.
I’m losing my mind.
Sinking back down to the ground, I wrapped my arms around my knees and looked up at the sky. I could use some help…any time now.
Blood trickled down my arm and leg, dripping on the ground and collecting in my shoe and sock. I stretched out the injured leg, not wanting to ruin my shoe. I’d almost died.
Chaney’s snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Did you hit your head?” he asked impatiently as if he was repeating himself. “Come back inside. You need to get cleaned up.”
“Just leave me alone,” I muttered. All I wanted to do was sit out here and keep myself from slipping away. There was little doubt which part of me pulled this stunt tonight—her. I was not impulsive. I didn’t even like to run very much; I only did it for the health benefits. I needed to mediate, do some moon salutations. Find the calmer, human Selene. Half-elf Selene wasn’t going to win. I didn’t even like her.
“No,” he said, yanking me off the ground and flashing us back into the house. He dragged me to the kitchen by my arm as I struggled to pull away.
“Let me go!” I demanded, sounding like a petulant child even to my own ears.
Calm Selene, calm Selene, calm Selene, I repeated in my head. I swallowed my pride and followed Cheney of my own free will. Calm, human Selene knew this was right. I needed to take care of my injuries before I could do anything else. Leaning against the counter, I waited patiently for Cheney to get whatever he was digging for in the cabinet. He glanced up at me several times, his brows knitting together.
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” he asked again.
“Not that I know of. It doesn’t feel like I hit my head.”
He sighed and stood up, obviously giving up on whatever he was looking for. He closed his eyes and grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol from air. “This is going to sting,” he warned, tearing my shirt to the collar before pouring the alcohol down my arm.
My shoulder to elbow was a bloody mess of purple bruises and scrapes that sizzled beneath the alcohol. I pulled in a sharp breath but didn’t complain. Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of my wounds, Cheney rubbed the same cream he’d given to me earlier over my arm. It stung worse than the alcohol. It felt like he was tearing my skin off with each touch. Tears came to my eyes.
“Take off your shorts,” he directed, not looking me in the eye. I did so without complaint or argument. My hip and thigh were much in the same shape as my shoulder and arm had been. We went through a similar process of cleaning and rubbing the cream over them. Cheney stood back up. “You’re being too quiet.”
Making direct eye contact with him I said, “I almost died tonight.”
“I won’t let you die.”
I sighed. “I’m going outside.” I squeezed past him, detouring to my room and picking up a pair of yoga pants from the floor and sliding into them painfully. Cheney didn’t understand. He couldn’t stop her from killing me. Hell, he wanted her to—it was the only way to get her back.
Cheney caught my good arm before I left the bedroom. “Did you mean to do this tonight? You would rather die than be with me?” His voice held so much emotion that I was scared to look at him. Scared my resolve would melt away, and I would fall into his arms.
“No, I don’t want to die. I didn’t know the cliff was there. I was lost in the moment. Never saw it coming.”
“What were you doing out there?”
A single tear streamed down my cheek. “Losing myself.” I pulled away from him and limped outside. This time I did not go far from the house. I went to a small grass clearing where I could see the moon and I sat on the ground, cringing in pain as I bent my leg underneath me.
I stretched my arms toward the moon, pulling them back into me three times while ignoring the pain in my shoulder. Popping my neck on the right, then the left, I searched for my center. My place of balance where everything could be solved and problems became clear. The place where I could commune with the universe and feel its response. Eventually I found it—buried deep within myself, underneath the turmoil and confusion of the last few days. Peace surrounded me like a hug; my mind opened to the world around me. “I need guidance, a sign. I don’t know what to do. Please help me understand and lead me in the direction that is truest to my heart. Help me find the strength and wisdom to make it
through these trials.” I stated my need to the universe aloud and waited for its response, but I felt nothing in return. After an hour, I got to my feet, determined to have faith the universe would respond when it knew what I should do with this mess.
Inside the house Cheney stood at the windows in the living room, staring out. He would have been looking over me, but at least he gave me enough privacy not to follow me outside. He didn’t turn around or say anything. The silence thickened the air in the room until I could hardly breathe. I walked out without a word, heading straight for bed.
Cheney and I had spoken enough for one evening. There was too much and nothing to say.
***
The next two weeks went by in a blur of hard work and plenty of pain. I wasn’t improving at Sebastian’s challenges. If anything, I was worse. Cheney and I barely spoke four words to one another, and Sebastian pushed me as hard as he could, but I couldn’t do what he asked. I couldn’t dodge the darts, I couldn’t avoid the tennis balls, I couldn’t move as fast as he wanted, and my sword fighting was pitiful at best. Some people are cut out for things like this and some aren’t—I was definitely the latter. I kept my temper in check all week, however, and I added a morning yoga regime to my daily routine. The half-elf was safely locked away.
I missed my friends and Grandma terribly. Having them around may have made the seclusion and torturous routines bearable, but it wasn’t an option. So I trudged through my day-to-day, falling deeper and deeper into a funk. To top everything off, I lost my iPod the night Cheney tackled me. I’d gone back several times to look for it, but it was nowhere.
Mourning my iPod for the thousandth time, I made my way down to Sebastian, ready for another day of tennis dodge ball. Oh joy.
I nodded, no longer able to find the energy to give him the hearty, teasing hello like I used to. Sebastian nodded back, his silvery eyes as concerned as ever. “Sit down, Selene.”
Plopping down next to him I asked, “Am I being reprimanded for something or do you have inspiring words of wisdom?”
“Neither.” I looked at him with slightly more interest. “I try to stay out of your and Cheney’s relationship. It has never been smooth, but it has always been stronger than anything I could understand. The two of you have been moping around for two weeks, and it is affecting your progress. So I’m going to break my own rule and get involved. What happened?”