Ever
Pink light falls on Laraâs cheek, her skin a succulent peach color I yearn to sink my teeth into. Instead of biting her, I heave myself out of bed, scuttling books and furniture from my path with fast flicks of my fingers as I walk toward the bathing chamber. This morning, my magic is weak.
Leaning over the stone basin, I study my eyes in the mirror, flecks of blue flashing in silver. I look tired. Peaceful. Happy.
Lara.
How can I keep her by my side forever and still defeat the curse?
I could shackle and chain her to the walls, imprison her body and ruin her thoughts while my own mind slowly rots from the black poison. Because with each new moon without my queen, I will only grow crueler, more wicked. Do I want this for Lara, the life of a slave to a brutal master? In time, sheâll wither, but by then, Iâll be too far gone to care. The safest place for her is the realm from which she came. I should help her return home as soon as possible.
But first, what could be wrong in taking pleasure from each other? Not for long, of course. Just a few days. A week. Or maybe three.
After a splash of water to enliven my mind, I pad back into the bedroom. As I slide under the furs, Laraâs eyes flare open, and she greets me with a lazy smile.
âGood morning,â I say, between soft kisses.
When I release her, she looks around the room, laughing at the mess. âYou really trashed the place last night.â
I am not ashamed. âYes.â I grin.
Pinching my cheeks, she kisses me quickly before sitting up, palms about to push off the mattress.
âWhat are you doing?â I ask.
âLeaving. Look at the sunshine out there. Itâs beautiful. Not the kind of day to waste in bed.â
I smother a laugh. How can she not realize the day is only fine because she is here beside me?
âDonât go yet,â I say, amazed at my pleading tone. âThe court sleeps for days after Samhain. There is no work to be done.â I tug until she lies on her side, then steal another kiss. âBesides, I wish to hear about this human who you claimed to desire more than me.â
âWhat?â Her green eyes widen.
âI remember every word that passed your lips at the Meritsâ banquet. When you admitted your lie to the queen, you said you desired me above all of my kind, not above all others. Which human man makes you burn for his touch?â
She thinks for a moment, before turning her back, dragging most of the furs with her. âHonestly? No one.â
Satisfaction and something akin to gratitude fills my chest.
âNo one? Good. This is as it should be.â
âYouâre such a⦠fae prince.â She laughs into the pillow as I reach for her bare shoulder, leaning close.
My lips trace her skin before I press away to admire her curves and the intricate lines of a tattoo I havenât yet had a chance to inspect.
An inked dragonfly.
Every muscle in my body turns to stone.
Dark red eyes glow amongst colors of purple, blue, and black.
Beneath its body, the word Garnet is written.
Above it, barren, silver branches reach toward delicate wingsâseizing, capturing.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
My black heat pounds like a drum.
Lara bears the mark of the garnet dragonfly. The mark of my fated queen.
This cannot be so. It canât be, and yet⦠it is.
Anger flares hot, blazing bright like an eternal sun at the same moment my world turns black. Black and desolate. Lightning flashes, ripping the sky open.
âWhatâs wrong?â
âYour tattooâ¦â
She looks over her shoulder and smiles. âThatâs Garnet. Apparently, she protects me.â
Protects her? No. Itâs a death sentence.
Thunder crashes. Clouds chase the sun and swallow it whole, shadows falling over the room. âHow long have you had it? And why that tattoo?â
âItâs such a coincidence, isnât it? First the moss elves, then you gave me your dragonfly pendant for protection, too.â
She rolls onto her back, and I hover above, trapping her with my arms. She plays with strands of my hair that fall between us as she speaks. âMy mother was killed in an accident when I was fifteen. It was strange, almost as though she was expecting to die, because on my sixteenth birthday, my aunt gave me a present from Momâa year after her deathâa beautiful letter, a voucher for a tattoo studio, and a hand-drawn design of this dragonfly. Mom said the name Garnet had to be included. I still donât understand why that was important. But I loved the image on first sight, and I feel like itâs always guided me somehow. I have no idea why.â
Unfortunately, I have an idea, a very unpleasant one. A vision of the metallic Crystalline Oak blinds me, its silver branches grasping and reaching for Lara. I feel them around her, an invisible web enfolding her body. I didnât find Lara underneath the tree as was foretold, but perhaps itâs always been with her.
âItâs weird, right?â Her smile wavers as she absorbs my expression, the violent flap of the curtains, the winds gusting through the room. âWhatâs wrong, Ever?â
âNothing.â Everything. I bite back a groan of pain. A lie. A lie.
She kisses my cheekâsweetly, tenderlyâthen snuggles closer. My hand travels to her waist. Now Iâve seen the tattoo, I donât want to touch her, but canât stop myself.
This shouldnât be possibleâme matched with a human girl? But I canât deny reality. The truth. Now I understand why, lately, the poison has slowed its path through my veins, the pain now dull and mostly bearable. Because of her.
Because of Laraâmy queenâthe girl I must kill if I wish to save Raff, I can smile again. Laugh even.
As her palm flattens against my back, her arm wrapping and squeezing tightly, I picture slitting her throat. Nothing less than drying blood will satisfy the curse, so I will have to slice my blade across her skin, and then stare into emerald eyes, dull and lifeless, all brightness gone forever. My human, my queenâdead.
Lara. Dead.
I recall each time Iâve stood upon Waylanâs Tor, staring at that vile tree, waiting for the girl.
The girl I do not want.
Every day.
The girl I already hate.
Forever.
The girl Iâm prepared to killâ¦
Never.
How could I have known about her delicate freckles? Her kindness? Her bravery? What holding her in my arms would feel like?
Without a word, I leap out of bed and dress quickly.
Wearing an amused expression, she watches silently, her gaze skimming my body. Finally, she asks, âAnd where are you off to?â
I keep my eyes on my sword as I adjust its belt. âThere is something important I must attend to. Iâve only just remembered it. You should return to your room. Iâll be gone several hours.â
Walking to the door takes all my strength and more. I donât want to leave her, but I have no choice.
She is the girl I must murder.
She is the one whose life I will end.
And I am Never.
Never. Ever. After.