by Hannah West
‘But you just said-’
Aric puts a finger over my lips. ‘Fae can only unite during the solstice or equinox, and Oric cannot hold on much longer. Zephyr needs to mate during this equinox because Oric will fade soon after. If Zephyr can’t get to you then he can’t mate you. He’ll be forced to pick another and you will be free.’
Hope blasts through my anger, but it’s twinned with an emotion that confuses me. Jealousy sinks deep claws through my gut at the thought of Zephyr choosing another.
‘I thought you said we’re connected,’ I find myself saying.
‘The Mate Mark means you and Zephyr are mates, not mated,’ Aric answers.
‘Well, that’s not confusing in the slightest,’ I growl, beyond enraged by the whole thing.
My temper is getting difficult to control, made worse by the strange emotions I’m experiencing where Zephyr is concerned. Why in the name of fae everywhere would I feel jealous about another female claiming him? I don’t even want him!
‘The Mate Mark signifies that Zephyr claimed you as his and the request was accepted by you,’ Aric say.
‘I never-’
‘It’s a biological reaction, Primrose. Your mind might not want him, but you’re biologically suited.’ Aric snorts an irritated sound. ‘Zephyr probably sensed the match and sought you out.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Zephyr is of royal descent. He’s a powerful fae, with a pure bloodline. It means there aren’t many females that are biologically compatible as a possible mate for him.’
I pinch the bridge of my nose against the migraine forming behind my eyes. ‘And I am?’
Aric nods. ‘Mated pairs are linked by their light. Compatible pairs will sense each other and be drawn together. Zephyr will have sensed you, but your reaction to him will have been dimmed by the fact you were still human.’
‘Until he changed me.’
Aric’s expression is grim. ‘Your light must’ve called to him enough for him to know you were a possible match, and his claim activated your fae genes.’
‘So, he didn’t actually know I was a match when he claimed me?’ I scoff.
‘If he didn’t think it likely, he wouldn’t have attempted it,’ Aric answers.
‘Why not?’
‘Because most Halflings don’t survive the transition into fae,’ he reminds me. ‘Fae light is too much for a frail human body to contain, and mostly it kills the human before their body has chance to become fae.’ Aric sighs. ‘It’s why I left your mother.’
‘Wait, Mum was a Halfling?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, and I wouldn’t have risked changing her if she was. As a human, my light would’ve slowly killed her.’
His words raise the tiny hairs on my neck. ‘What?’
Aric lifts his arm, and my eyes widen when midnight tendrils snake over his forearm down to his hand. They reach out from his fingertips and cup my face. My darkness responds, reaching out to explore Aric’s dark energy in return.
‘You have darkness inside you, too?’ I whisper.
‘This isn’t darkness, Primrose,’ he says. ‘It’s my light.’
‘But it’s black,’ I argue.
He nods. ‘Only Royal Dark Fae carry it.’
‘Dark Fae?’
‘I rule the Dark Fae,’ he answers. ‘Oric rules the Light Fae.’
‘So, I’m Dark Fae and the darkness inside me is actually a form of light?’
‘It is,’ Aric answers, sounding proud.
‘But, my darkness – I mean, my light, didn’t manifest when Zephyr claimed me. Sure, it’s acting weird since he kissed me, but I’ve had my light for as long as I can remember.’
‘Impossible,’ Aric argues. ‘You would’ve been too frail to contain it in your human form.’
I was too frail to control it.
I shrug. ‘I’m only telling you what I know.’
My stomach churns and I swallow a lump in my throat. Aric’s revelation about his light killing Mum has a knot forming in my stomach. My skin prickles and dread floods my insides.
‘What did you mean about your light slowly killing Mum?’ I ask.
Aric sighs. ‘I adored Christine, but so did my light.’ His brow wrinkles. ‘My light couldn’t get enough of her, and I had to rein it in around her, lest it damaged her fragile form. If I lost my focus for even a moment it would latch onto her, drawing her essence.’
Oh god. My heart is pounding by the time he stops talking, thinking of how much his explanation runs parallel to what I’ve experienced with my own light. I think of what it means and crushing weight presses down on my chest. Hot grief wells up inside, clogging my throat.
‘I can’t control my light,’ I rasp.
‘A human wouldn’t have the mental ability to control fae light,’ Aric agrees. ‘If what you say is true-’
‘It’s true,’ I snap, lashing out with the weight of my realisation.
Oh god, what have I done?
His gaze softens. ‘Then I’m in awe you’re alive,’ he says. ‘And I thank the Goddess for it.’
‘But you know what it means, right?’ I argue. ‘I killed Mum.’ Tears blur my vision at voicing the truth. ‘My light craved Mum the way you said yours did. Whenever I was near her, it would leech her emotion.’
‘Primrose-’
‘She used to get headaches,’ I say ignoring his placating tone. ‘They got so bad sometimes she couldn’t get out of bed. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with her for a long time. Then one day she got really sick, and they diagnosed her with a rare form of cancer.’
I take a shuddering breath as tears spill down my face. It feels like there’s a vice around my insides, slowly choking me.
‘There were drugs and chemotherapy,’ I whisper, ‘but nothing worked. I watched her die and it was slow.’ I push from Aric’s arms and back away at the memory. ‘Maybe I didn’t cause the cancer, but I made her sick and too weak to fight it.’
Aric rests a comforting hand on my shoulder but I shrug him off. ‘I’m fae,’ he reminds me. ‘You can’t hurt me that way, Primrose.’
His words are meant to console, but memories surface of my darkness leeching emotion from someone I love. I think of how tired Katherine’s been, and the headaches she complains of. I’d thought they were because of Mum’s passing. But Katherine worries about me and has spent so much more time around me than usual.
I feel eleven years old again, sitting on the floor of Amy’s bedroom watching Charlotte cry. I feel like the snake I likened myself to back then. I’ve been coiled around my friends and family for years, my darkness slowly consuming them.
Monster.
I swallow back bile. ‘How do I control it? How can I stop my light from hurting the people I love?’
‘I’ll teach you,’ Aric assures me. I flinch when he takes my hand but he holds firm. ‘It isn’t your fault, Primrose. If anyone is to blame for Christine’s death it’s me. I should’ve been strong enough to visit and make sure she was well. But Christine was my weakness and I failed you both. I won’t fail you again.’
I don’t know what to say in response. The same numbness from the day of Mum’s funeral creeps over me and I let it come. My light wraps me up in a cocoon, offering its brand of comfort, and I block out enough feeling to focus.
‘How will you prevent Zephyr from mating me?’ I ask, voice flat.
If Aric notices the change in me he doesn’t comment. ‘By keeping you in the Dark Realm,’ he answers. ‘To complete the bond, you and he will have to join intimately during the equinox. Without a physical joining your lights will not bind and Zephyr will be forced to choose another or miss his opportunity.’
‘You said matches for Zephyr are rare?’ I murmur.
‘They are.’
‘Then won’t I be stuck here until he finds another match?’
Aric squeezes my hand. ‘This is where you belong, Primrose.’
Aric speaks with such confidence, like I’ll agr
ee to give up my life and stay in the Dark Realm with him. I think of how Katherine and David will react when I don’t come home. Then I think of Drew freaking out when he wakes up in the morning and finds me gone. All of my things are still in his room and he’ll know something happened to me. He’ll try to find me, and when he doesn’t, he’ll contact Katherine. I can’t do that to her. I can’t let her go through losing Mum then me.
‘I need to go back and tell Drew I’m leaving,’ I say.
‘The male sleeping on the floor?’
I nod. ‘He’s my best friend. I can’t just disappear on him. He’ll worry.’
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Aric answers. ‘You carry Zephyr’s Mate Mark, meaning he’s able to locate you in whatever realm you’re in. But he won’t enter the Dark Realm without my permission.’
I see the resolve in his eyes and know I’m stuck until Aric lets me go. Panic tries to infiltrate the numbness but my light won’t let it. I’m going through the motions, feeling detached from the situation. Discovering Zephyr can locate me anywhere should have me freaking out, but I’m taking it in my stride. And I can see Aric’s logic. Perhaps staying in the Dark Realm is best, at least until he teaches me how to control my darkness.
‘You said you’d teach me how to control my light.’
‘And I will, but first I’m going to teach you a simple defensive move,’ he answers.
I raise an eyebrow. ‘You think I’ll need it here?’
‘I don’t like how defenceless you are,’ he counters. ‘And learning this will teach you the fundamentals of how to focus the energy inside you.’
Oh. ‘Okay then.’
Aric takes my right hand and turns it palm up. ‘I’m going to teach you how to create an essence orb.’ He lifts his own hand and a sphere of crackling, black light forms above his palm. ‘Like this one.’
‘Bloody hell,’ I whisper.
It’s a midnight version of the ball Zephyr made in the club. Heat radiates from it in the same way, and my skin prickles with awareness. Static fills the air, my skin humming with energy.
‘It’s called an essence orb because it’s drawn from your essence,’ Aric explains. ‘The colour of a fae’s light denotes their lineage, which is why I recognised which Zephyr marked you. Only royal Light Fae carry the amethyst light. Just as royal Dark Fae carry the black.’ Aric closes his hand around the orb, extinguishing it. ‘Now you try.’
I stare at my right palm but nothing happens. ‘I don’t think my light works the same way,’ I mutter.
‘Nonsense,’ Aric answers and cups under my hand with his. ‘Light fills you to the brim, Primrose. I feel it. Your palm is one place it can exit. You must draw it forth from here,’ he explains pressing his other hand to my stomach. ‘Focus your thoughts there, find where the light pools, and order it to your right palm.’
My focus turns inward, to the wild entity in my middle. The more I concentrate, the stronger the beast grows. It bubbles then flows up through my body. My arm tingles growing warm, as the sensation trickles down to my hand. A small, black spark crackles in my right palm.
‘That’s it,’ Aric coaches. ‘Now feed the spark. Let light pool in your palm, until it forms an orb.’
I imagine siphoning more of the fizzing sensation to my palm. I grin when the spark grows into a ball of crackling, black fire.
‘I’m doing it,’ I breathe.
Aric drops his hand from the back of mine and moves a few metres away. I glance between him and the black sphere in my hand, wondering what he’s doing.
‘Grip the orb and throw it to me,’ he orders. ‘You won’t hurt me, Primrose,’ he says when I hesitate. ‘I’ll catch it.’
I curl my fingers around the sphere and grip it tight. It’s hot and alive in my hand, sizzling with power. It pulses, snapping with energy, as I pull my arm back and throw it at Aric. He snatches it from the air then plays with it, throwing it up and down in one hand, as if to test the weight.
‘It’s your turn to catch,’ he says.
I nod and hold my hands out ready. Aric launches the orb at me faster than I expect and I flinch, ready for the impact. But my right hand darts out and snatches it from the air before it hits me. I blink at the ball in my hand, shocked I moved so fast.
‘It belongs to you,’ Aric chuckles. ‘The light is part of you so you felt it and reacted before your mind fully registered it was there. Your light knows what to do to protect you, Primrose. You must trust it.’
‘I do trust it – most of the time,’ I answer then, ‘I thought you said this was a defensive move, but you caught the orb and played with it. Won’t everyone just do the same?’
‘I can catch it because the light within you is also in me,’ he says. ‘You will always be a part of me, Primrose; my only offspring.’
His words make me feel warm, like I’ve achieved something just by being born. But it’s a feeling I used to get with Mum; one I thought I’d never feel again. It infuses the numbness my darkness is creating, and I feel cherished.
‘What will it do to Zephyr?’ I say rolling the orb between my hands, feeling the energy crackle between my palms. ‘Will it hurt him? Will it kill him?’
The idea of killing Zephyr turns my stomach. I don’t care how scared he makes me I’m not a killer. I think of Mum and cringe, a wave of grief searing through the numbness to coat my skin. I already am a killer. I shake my head, trying to shake off the curved claws of loss in my middle. There’s a difference between choosing to kill and doing it by accident.
Aric shakes his head. ‘Your orbs won’t kill Zephyr because he’s a royal, but they’ll hurt. Non-royal fae are a different story,’ he warns. ‘The light they carry isn’t as powerful, so they’re more likely to die. And humans would definitely perish.’
My gaze snaps to his. ‘Die?’
‘Your light is very powerful, Primrose,’ Aric answers. ‘It will never harm you, but you must learn to control it for the sake of others. Until then, I think it best you not create orbs around humans or common fae.’
‘I won’t,’ I assure him. ‘But what if Zephyr finds me? Can’t he just use a mirror to get here, like I did?’
‘Zephyr wouldn’t dare enter the Dark Realm,’ Aric says. ‘He’s never been here, so opening a mirror portal will be impossible anyway.’
‘Let’s just pretend I grew up knowing nothing about fae, and need you to explain that,’ I say, frustrated Aric keeps eluding to stuff like I should know it.
‘Dissolve your orb,’ he orders. When I give him a pointed look he says, ‘Hold it tight and return it to the well in your centre.’
I wrap my fingers around the orb and think of it returning to my core. It shrinks, sinking into my palm, until my hand is a clenched fist with nothing inside it. Aric takes my hand and leads me to the mirrored wall. He presses my palm to the surface and steps back.
‘Think of a destination you’d like to go to,’ he says. ‘It has to be somewhere you’ve been to, or can picture perfectly enough to manifest a doorway there. And there has to be a reflective surface at that destination for a portal to open in.’
The image of my bedroom at home fills my mind, and I gasp when the same image fills the mirror. I’m staring at my bed from a sideways angle, and it takes a few seconds to realise I’m looking out from the mirrored door on my wardrobe.
‘Is this real?’ I ask.
‘Push forward,’ Aric answers.
I do, and my hand slips through the surface of the mirror. It feels like a thin membrane, solid to touch, but elastic in texture. It’s viscous when I push through, like I’m passing through jelly, but isn’t wet. I pull my arm back, losing contact with the mirror. The image on the other side wavers then dissipates, until I’m staring at my reflection.
‘Zephyr won’t be able to create a portal to the Dark Realm because he’s never been here,’ Aric clarifies. ‘He has no memory or image to call upon to manifest a doorway. The only way of him getting here is by invitation or tracing another’s d
oorway.’
‘Tracing?’ I ask, turning to face him. ‘What’s that?’
‘This,’ he answers and presses his palm to the mirror. The image of my room reappears and he looks at me. ‘I’ve reopened the doorway last created between this mirror and the one in that room. I don’t need an image of it, I just used my light to trace the last doorway opened.’
‘Like pressing redial on a phone,’ I say.
‘Phone?’
‘You don’t know what a-’ I shake my head. ‘It doesn’t matter. Is there a way to stop someone from tracing the doorways I’ve opened?’
Aric punches the wall, making me squeal in surprise and jump back. Cracks web out from the impact and parts of the mirror shatter, raining shards of glass onto the floor.
‘Break the exit mirror,’ Aric answers, like he didn’t just make that clear enough. ‘If either mirror is broken, the doorway loses its integrity.’
A dozen fae teleport into the room before I can say anything. They surround Aric in an arrow formation then aim a collection of weapons at me. A hand grips my throat from behind, pulling me backwards. My back meets a hard body and fear spikes through the numb layer my darkness provides. Energy crackles from the hand, stinging my throat.
‘Stand down!’ Aric roars.
The weapons are withdrawn as he pushes through the fae around him. The hand releases my throat and I stumble when the hard body disappears from behind me. Aric presses probing fingers to my throat. His eyes are full black and menace charges the air between us. My throat feels bruised, which surprises me because the hand on my throat was restraining, not crushing.
‘You dare attack her?’ Aric snarls.
‘We heard the wall smash,’ a male argues from behind me. ‘We thought you under attack.’
‘You have marked her,’ Aric growls. ‘Marked my heir.’
There’s a collective gasp then a muscular fae moves around me, and drops to one knee at my feet. He presses a fist to the ground, head bowed when he addresses me.
‘I accept the penalty, Princess,’ he says.
‘What’s he talking about?’ I croak.
‘He injured you,’ Aric answers. ‘Such an act is punishable by death.’