An Heir Comes to Rise

by C. C. Peñaranda

  He had left early this morning, and Faythe was yet to give him his gifts. She had splashed out on a selection of new jackets, shirts, and pants as well as a pair of new boots. He was in desperate need of it all. Marlowe had finished crafting the sword for him from scratch, and it was impeccable just like her own. She had an eye for detail that stood out as her maker’s mark. Jakon was about to be spoiled like he’d never been spoiled before by both women, and they had been giddy with excitement all week.

  “Good. Well, I should probably go. I want to be home before Jakon gets back.” Faythe pushed herself up from the bench.

  Marlowe gave an excited squeal in response, and Faythe left her to finish up for the day.

  When she arrived back at the hut, she decided to get herself ready while she had some spare time. Earlier that week, she and Marlowe had gone shopping for new gowns just for tonight. Her dress—a white crystal-embossed corset that overlapped long, lilac chiffon skirts—made her feel beautiful and showed off the woman’s body she was slowly filling into from eating well these past weeks. Faythe had never thought she’d be able to wear such a fine dress and still marveled at her new wardrobe, embracing the femininity.

  She went to work on her hair, pinning half of it back in various places until she had some form of braided knot at the back, leaving the rest in its loose natural waves. She applied a thin, flicked line of kohl to accentuate the brightness of her eyes and powdered her cheeks to give herself a natural rosiness. As she was finishing off, she heard the door swing open and dropped what she held to skip out and greet her friend.

  Jakon paused across the room at the sight of her, but she ran and threw herself at him anyway. He caught her around the waist as she flung her arms around him, squeezing tightly.

  “Happy birthday, Jak!” she squealed.

  When he put her down, she stepped away and found him still staring wordlessly at her. Her cheeks flushed as he looked her over from head to toe.

  “I thought I would put in the effort for your birthday,” she said, shifting nervously.

  “You look…” He trailed off. She knew it wasn’t lust in his eyes as he observed her, wide-eyed; it was friendly admiration. “Incredible.” He settled on the word and then regained his usual composure. “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble. I’m going to have to spend my birthday fending off lustful men all night now,” he teased.

  She huffed. “I hardly think so.”

  “Trust me, all eyes will be on you tonight,” he said playfully. “Let me just go change. Except now, I think I’m going to be severely underdressed in comparison.” He scratched the back of his neck with a hint of embarrassment.

  “Actually,” Faythe drawled, “that’s where your gift comes in.” She didn’t wait for him to say anything before she scurried off into the bedroom and returned beaming, carrying three different paper shopping bags.

  He gaped at her, not immediately going to them when she placed them on the kitchen table and gestured for him to take a look. “Faythe, I… Where did you get the money for all this?”

  She knew the inquisition would be coming and rolled her eyes. “I was saving long before I got the raise. Now, stop worrying and open them!” she lied, pushing him over to the table so he wouldn’t question her further.

  Jakon pulled out each garment one by one, stopping to gawk at her after every piece. She watched like a kid on Yulemas morning, grinning at every new item as if it were the first time she was seeing them too. Marlowe had played a part in some of the choices, and she had to admit, together, they had impeccable taste in men’s attire.

  “I want you to wear the royal blue jacket tonight. The rest, you can pick,” she said, specifically choosing that one because she knew it was the same color as Marlowe’s dress for the party.

  He looked at a loss for words as he finished fishing through all the articles, but he finally said, “This is too much… Far too much. We can return some of it if—”

  “You’re really killing my buzz, Jak, and I’m started to get offended,” she cut in with a look. He seemed like he wanted to protest more, but Faythe held her gaze firm, letting him know she would kick his ass if he did.

  Instead, he smiled, and with a long sigh, he said, “Thank you, Faythe. It’s way more than I could have ever asked for, so thank you.”

  She embraced him again with a squeal of delight. “Now, go change. I made a reservation for the best seats, and we’ll be late!” She gathered up the clothing and pushed him into the room before moving to wait in the kitchen, reeling with excitement. She couldn’t keep still and paced around humming a tune to herself to distract her from checking her pocket watch as she’d done twice already since he retreated to the bedroom.

  When he finally emerged, she had to clasp her hands and bring them up to her face to hold in her cry of happiness. He could have been a painting; she almost didn’t recognize him in his finery. He wore black leather pants that had silver studs down the sides to match with the studs on his deep blue jacket. His white shirt underneath was crisp and much better fitted than his old ones. Finished off with his new black leather knee-high boots, he looked the part.

  “Now who’s going to have to fend off lascivious females…and males, perhaps?” she gushed.

  He nervously pulled at the jacket with an apprehensive smile. “It’s not too much?”

  Faythe shook her head quickly. “Not at all.” She held an arm out to him and sang, “Shall we?”

  Jakon gave a soft laugh and linked his arm through hers. His eyes trailed over her again, and he smirked. “Look at us—you’d have thought we just robbed the wealthy part of town.”

  She chuckled, her lips pulling up in a deviant grin. He wasn’t too far from the truth.

  Faythe practically skipped down the streets, unable to keep herself still from the thrill of nerves. If Jakon noticed, he didn’t comment on it as they idly chatted about his day and what she had been up to earlier. She edited the details of her particular activities.

  Harbor Hall came into view, and it took every ounce of Faythe’s control not to jump from her burst of excitement. No one was sitting at any of the tables she could see through the windows, and she prayed Jakon wouldn’t question the unusual quietness before they could get inside.

  She let him go in first. He gripped the handle and pushed the door…

  “SURPRISE!”

  Jakon nearly knocked her over as he launched backward, going to grab her from any threat of danger. Faythe howled with laugher—so much so, her eyes started to well with tears, and she doubled over, clutching her stomach. He gaped between her and the crowd of their friends inside in utter shock and horror.

  Marlowe came bounding to the door and grabbed his hand to drag him in as he stood there frozen. Faythe followed inside just as some lute players started their ensemble, and everyone flooded over to wish Jakon a happy birthday.

  Every ounce of stress and lost nerve had been completely worth it for that moment alone. In fact, Faythe decided she could die right now and be happy that was the last thing she saw.

  Inside, the party fell into full swing. They had moved the tables away from the center of the hall, allowing space for people to dance and chat together. Candles burned low, and Faythe admired her own handiwork as the glittering decorations made the room sparkle beautifully against the amber flames.

  The food was delicious. Faythe was already on her second glass of wine—perfectly normal human wine, thankfully—while picking at some finger sandwiches and watching the revelers sway in time with the lute players.

  “You look magnificent tonight, darling Faythe.” Ferris’s voice carried over the music as he came up beside her with a glass in one hand.

  She mumbled her thanks, taking in his own fine attire as they both watched the party.

  “I see you’re not letting a single coin of your hard work go to waste.” He gestured around and gave her another look over.

  She smirked. “I’d barely call it hard work.”

  “How
do you make it look so easy in there?” His eyes danced.

  She shrugged. “Give me some real competition, will you? It’s starting to get boring.” Smug, she took a casual sip from her cup.

  “Profits are starting to decline. People expect the Gold-Eyed Shadow to win nowadays,” he remarked, using her newfound nickname.

  She hummed. “I’m not throwing a fight if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

  “Never, Faythe. I wouldn’t diminish your talents like that.” He paused and then said, “But we should find you someone more…challenging.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “And you have someone in mind?”

  He hesitated as if even he thought it was a dangerous idea. That spoke volumes, yet she still couldn’t have braced herself for what came out of his mouth.

  “How do you think you’d fare against a fae?”

  She choked into her wineglass and met his insane proposition with wide eyes. “Do you want to get me killed?” she hissed, the music hiding her tone.

  “All you’d have to do is outsmart him. Go on the defensive until you can get into a killing position,” Ferris said nonchalantly.

  She glared at him, trying to hold back her expression of outrage so people wouldn’t question their encounter at the edge of the party. “If that’s all, then you can bloody well try it yourself,” she snapped.

  He chuckled in amusement. “It was just a suggestion—and one that could rake in a much higher sum than even your first night.”

  She contemplated—actually gave the senseless, absolutely ridiculous idea some thought. There was no chance of her besting a fae. Their speed alone was simply not a match for any mortal—not even close. She had dabbled in swordplay with Nik, and he had never even been trying. It would be near impossible to dodge their attacks. Unless…

  Faythe straightened, sucking in a subtle breath.

  Unless someone possessed the ability to foresee their movements beforehand.

  Her heart’s tempo increased as she thought it over. She had done it once—had caught Nik’s leg before he could fully move out of the way because she’d seen him plan his next move. It would be a risk. A huge risk. And it would be her life on the line if she took it. There was a high chance her death at the hands of a fae would go unpunished, accidental or otherwise. Especially as she’d be foolishly and willingly putting herself in the line of peril.

  She shuddered. This was a very, very dangerous game she was playing.

  “I’m in,” she blurted.

  His eyebrows raised at her agreement.

  “But not yet. I’ll need a couple of weeks…for experience and practice. I’ll need to be fully prepared,” she said with all the bravado she could muster.

  She would need to practice—just not in the way Ferris assumed. She had only foreseen movement once, by accident, and since that time with Nik, she hadn’t really tried to tap into her conscious abilities and see what else she was capable of.

  He stared at her for a moment, an eyebrow still cocked in surprise, giving her one last chance to take it back. When she held firm, he gave her a single nod in answer; a phantom handshake for the deadly deal she’d signed.

  The song slowed, and Faythe stood drinking while she watched couples join and sway to the romantic melody. Her eyes drifted to her friends, and her heart melted at the sight. Their outfits matched perfectly, and together, they brought the starry night sky to the dance floor, dark blues and silver accents creating beautiful floating constellations where they swayed. They were laughing, eyes bright, as Marlowe’s hands draped behind Jakon’s neck and he held her tightly by her waist.

  She knew she should look away from their moment of intimacy, but she couldn’t help the sting in her heart at the way they looked at each other. A set of emerald eyes flashed in her mind, and Faythe hated herself for exactly who she pined after in that moment.

  “Dance with me?” Ferris’s voice broke through her thoughts.

  She turned to find his hand held out to her. Grateful for the distraction, she took it and let him lead her into a space where they could join and dance together.

  After a quiet moment, he said, “You are some woman to behold, Faythe. Both on and off the fighting field.” His eyes darkened.

  A playful smile tugged at her lips. “It’s a shame I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

  He chuckled softly. “A shame indeed.”

  Chapter 28

  The party came to an end at one in the morning, and they all left together while the hall staff cleared up as part of Faythe’s generous rental sum. Marlowe had booked a room for her and Jakon at the East Town Hostel so they could have a night alone for once, not wanting to stay with her father in the cottage behind their compound. They dropped Faythe off at the hut and said goodbye with no small amount of teasing on Faythe’s part about what they would get up to. Her friends flushed in embarrassment, to her great amusement.

  She didn’t change into her nightclothes, instead pulling on a pair of leather pants and a loose white shirt and sliding into her boots. Maybe she was being foolish, but she hadn’t been able to get a certain arrogant, annoying, irritatingly handsome fae guard out of her head all night, and she was tired of waiting to see if he would seek her out—in her head or otherwise.

  As she slipped into bed fully clothed, she closed her eyes and waited to fall into darkness. Then she awoke, standing in the gold-and-white mist of her mind.

  Her hands became slick with sweat, and her heart raced with nerves. The last time she was in the black-and-gray clouds of Nik’s subconscious, she’d had no clue about anything she was—or what he was. So much had changed since. That day seemed like another lifetime ago.

  Nik could very well push her out with half a thought or not let her enter at all. He would be aware the moment she tried to project herself into his mind, just as she was whenever he visited hers. Without giving herself time to cower, she closed her eyes and thought of him. When she felt the pull and didn’t immediately hit a mental wall, she knew she had made it through. It didn’t stop her from slowly peeling one eye open first to check, though, a part of her hoping to still see gold. But it was the starkly contrasting whorls of black and gray she was met with when she opened her eyes fully, and she wasn’t sure if she felt relief or fear at being back.

  After a short moment, Nik came into view. She almost stumbled, gaping at the sight of him bare-chested, hands casually slid into his sleep pants. His usual loose-fitting white shirts had hinted at his toned upper body, but this…

  Seeing him bare made Faythe’s cheeks catch fire. She was at a loss for words and screamed internally to channel herself out of his mind. She’d clearly interrupted his deep rest.

  “I…I can go if you, uh—sorry,” she stumbled like an idiot.

  “I was planning on a full night’s rest, but I couldn’t deny you, Faythe.” A wicked smile twitched the corners of his lips at her obvious embarrassment. “Why are you here?”

  At least he was back to his insufferable cocky ways. Their last awkward encounter hadn’t tainted the air between them.

  “You haven’t been around in a while…” She trailed off, having no idea where her train of thought was going.

  “I didn’t realize I was needed.”

  “You’re not,” she snapped instinctively. Then she recovered. “I mean, it would have been nice for you to check in or something,” she said lamely.

  “Why?”

  Faythe gawked a little. “Sorry. I guess I made the mistake of thinking we might be friends.” She turned to leave as if there were an imaginary door when the mist shifted to wrap around her middle and hold her still. Even her mind felt a weight upon it as she was held from projecting anywhere.

  Nik had once told her it was possible to become trapped in another Nightwalker’s mind. It was why they didn’t often risk it. Now, she was stuck here against her will.

  “You could just as easily have visited me anytime as well, you know?” he said softly.

  She turned to him
. All the anger she was about to unleash faded at the remark. He was right. She had been just as absent as he, and she hadn’t even realized, stupidly waiting on him to make the first contact, thinking he wouldn’t want to see her again after their intimate moment in the woods. It had been nothing.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been…distracted,” she said with a weak smile. She wouldn’t tell him about The Cave, not wanting a lecture on the dangers and her recklessness like Jakon would give her. “Can you meet me in the woods?” she asked.

  Nik cocked an eyebrow. “Tonight? It’s almost two in the morning.”

  “Please?”

  He released a long, dramatic sigh. “Fine. Twenty minutes,” he said begrudgingly. She felt the mist release her, and then the pressure lifted off her mind too. He gave a smug smile. “You’re free to go.”

  She childishly stuck her tongue out at him and heard the echoes of his chuckle before she was back in her own mind. Rising to consciousness, she immediately shot out of her cot.

  Faythe arrived first, emerging into the waterfall clearing and taking a big gulp of pure, fresh air. She sat near the water’s edge, idly picking at the grass and letting the calming sound of running water hypnotize her.

  After another few minutes, rustling came from the tree line, and a familiar head of polished black hair and piercing green eyes came into view. She beamed at the sight of Nik. It struck her just how much she had missed his company these past couple of weeks. It felt different, clearer, seeing him in person compared to in their minds.

  “So what is it you have to tell me that couldn’t wait?” he said by way of greeting. He dropped down next to her, casually leaning back on his hands as he observed her with his usual arrogant smile she’d come to love and hate.

  “I was actually hoping you’d help me with…my conscious abilities,” she said warily. He looked at her in curiosity, waiting for her to elaborate. “I want to learn how to control them better—in combat specifically.”