King of Always: Chapter 14

poison whispers vile and hateful lies.

it tells me now.

.

More lies.

Regardless, I crack my eyes open, flinching against a flare of bright light near the door. Sitting in the corner of this dismal cell, knees drawn to my chest, I cannot tell if it is night or day. Shrouded in darkness, to me, it’s all the same.

The poison has sent another vision to taunt me, but I am still desperate to see it. Slowly, I lift my head, temples pounding. And there she is, her sunshine hair shining in the dark. Eyes twin blue flames. A creature of warmth and light materializing from the shadows.

, the poison says.

“Raff?” says the ethereal specter, moving closer.

Interesting. The phantoms don’t normally speak. Today, the poison seeks to torture me severely.

“Isla,” I say, pretending for a moment that she is real. “You came. The poison told me you would.”

The vision kneels beside me. “Your voice sounds terrible.”

When she touches my face, I draw a sharp breath, my throat aching. “You’re real.”

“Of course I am. When did they last give you something to drink?”

I shake my head, my memories muddled. How long have I been here? Days? A moon’s turn?

“I cannot remember.” My throat burns. My eyes too. Not enough water. No warmth. No light. Chains clink as I reach and stroke her cheek, the skin so soft. So fragile. “You are well?” I ask. “They have not hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Compared to your situation, the Merits are treating me like royalty, which is ironic since you’re the prince, and I’m the pauper.”

Relief courses through my blood, quieting the vile whispers. “I have considered our situation from all angles, and I cannot fathom how to get you out of this land… These chains of iron, the curse. I am no longer the warrior I was. I wished to rescue you, Isla, but instead, I have failed you.”

“No. I failed . And Lara and Ever. I should never have wandered into the forest by myself. It was so stupid.”

My blood stirs.

says the darkness in my veins.

.

At last, the poison speaks the truth. I am done for. Finished.

But I cannot help wondering what Isla sees before her. A broken warrior, ruined and trapped, unable to stop the shadows consuming him. Certainly not a worthy mate.

, , says the poison.

“Be gone!” My head falls back against the cold wall. “I will not listen to you.”

“What?” She grips my chin and tries to turn my head. “I’ve hardly said a thing! And I’m not going anywhere yet.”

“I did not mean . The curse lives and breathes inside of me. It is a demon dwelling in my blood, one that speaks through nightmares and tells me to end this worthless existence, tells me to hurt you, Isla.”

“You won’t hurt me. And you don’t want to end anything, at least not until after you’ve had something to eat and drink. I have goodies in my bag.”

My attention snaps to the lump of cloth on her lap. I scramble upright as she places items on the stone floor between us.

She raises a pouch. “Have some water.”

I reach for it, but the iron that shackles my wrists and ankles has weakened my limbs, and it slips from my grasp. Shame fills me.

“Here, open up.” She presses the pouch against my mouth, cool drops of water touching my tongue. I drink, spilling more than I can swallow, spluttering and coughing. When I finish, I release a long sigh, feeling strength return to my limbs.

“Better?” she asks as she tears bread from a loaf and adds slices of cheese between hunks before passing it to me.

“Yes. Thanks to you.” I scan her body quickly. She looks well. Better than well. The beauty of sunrise and sunset combined. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because you’re alive.” A blonde eyebrow rises as she regards the cell. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

I laugh. The cell is vile. A bed of filthy straw with a single tattered blanket strewn over it, constant darkness the only comfort. Fury fills me, igniting the barest flicker of fire magic in my chest.

“Listen, Raff. I know I haven’t been very friendly since I met you, and I’m sorry about that. But I really am glad that you’re alive.”

“Tell me the truth of how the Merits are treating you. When I break free from these chains, I will destroy all who have harmed you. I vow it.”

“I’m their precious little human change-bringer. They won’t dare hurt me while I’m working with Elas in the Meritorium. He’s been amazing. Lidwinia, too. They’re covering for me, Raff, keeping me safe.”

Relief loosens my muscles, and I drop my head back against the rough stone.

A frown marring her brow, her gaze trails over my skin. “You should eat some more. You look like you need it.”

I gorge on the food, plain but more delicious than the strawberries and truffles from the last Beltane feast.

She shuffles to sit beside me against the wall, her arm almost touching mine. A shimmery tunic covers her from wrists to knees, the colors of every metal in the seven realms glinting in the torchlight. My senses sharpen as I stare at her. My bright sunshine. My glowing firefly.

Her eyes find mine in the dim light. “Okay. What have they done to you? Tell me the worst of it.”

I shrug. “They dare not torture me. If they did, they could never in all faith deny that they had done so to my mother and, eventually, a never-ending war with my kingdom would result. Mostly, they leave me alone and sometimes even remember to feed me. The worst is these chains—part cold iron, they have depleted my already weakening magic, leaving me at the mercy of the curse.”

“Lucky I’m here to help then. What we need is a plan. We have to find a way to get you out of those chains and somewhere safe.”

A wide smile curves my lips. Is she afraid of nothing?

“Don’t do that! You’re handsome enough when you’re scowling. Please don’t smile at me like you mean it.”

I grin down at my torn leather pants, running my fingers over the remaining spikes and feathers embedded in my tattered vest. At this moment, I’m more akin to a ragged woodland creature than a prince, and she calls me handsome? Mortals are strange indeed.

“You have no magic.” She kneels and tests the pins on my wrist shackles, then huffs a resigned breath, leaning back against the wall. “And those chains don’t look like they’re gonna fall off by themselves. It won’t be easy to get you out of here.”

“Since eating, a little of my strength has returned.”

“The miracle of food and water.”

No, it is her who affects me. She neutralizes the poison, stops its deadly flow. The miracle is the proximity of my fated mate—of Isla.

She squeezes my hand, sending heat licking over my skin. “I can’t stop thinking about Lara and Ever, how worried they must be. They probably think we’re dead.”

I shake my head. “No. Our mages see nearly everything, and the Elemental Court knows we are safe enough. The Merit king is many things, but he is not an idiot. He will already have sent Mother a carefully worded message, promising our safety, describing it in terms of a diplomatic visit, yet at the same time subtly taunting her to war. But he will make certain that he does not give her an actual reason to set her warriors marching southward.”

“So, it’s a stalemate?”

“Yes. He’s waiting for her to make the next move and dearly hopes it will be the wrong one. But Queen Varenus is both intelligent and callous, I can assure you she will take no action against the Merits. With Ever back at Talamh Cúig, she has no need of me. Should I die, he becomes heir once again, and the curse will pass back to his line. That outcome would be more than acceptable to her.”

Shock flares in her eyes. “But what if the Merits keep you like this forever, barely alive, and the queen dies while you’re trapped here? The Land of Five king will be a prisoner of the Unseelie court. She’d be nuts to let that happen.”

“If by nuts, you mean of unsound mind, then you describe my mother well enough.” I raise my head slowly and meet her gaze. “She won’t allow that to happen. If this goes on too long, my mother will goad El Fannon or the mad prince into finishing me off. Then she won’t have to wait overlong for the poison to kill me, and her line of succession will be assured with Ever and his children.”

“Wow. Awesome mother you’ve got! And Riven, would he actually kill you?”

I smile. “Riven is a mercurial creature. I cannot profess to know what he would do. Temnen, however, is mad, bad, and predictable. And nothing would give him greater pleasure than to kill an Elemental prince.”

Her lips twist. “What happened to the Merit queen? How did she die?”

“Beheaded while she slept.”

She shudders. “Gross. Did they catch her murderer?”

“Yes—it was her husband.”

“El Fannon?” she asks, grimacing.

“Of course. She only had one.”

“Was he…punished?”

“The king punished?” Harsh laughter rattles my chest. “The opposite. Rumor has it that immediately after he committed this terrible deed, his popularity was the highest it had ever been. His wife, Ciara, was a beauty, but kindhearted and weak. Therefore, she was not a well-loved queen.”

Isla blows out a long breath. “So, how do we get you out of here?”

At a loss, I shake my head.

“Raff? There must be a way.”

“If there is, I do not know it. Look at me! Chained like an animal, my magic depleted. I am powerless.”

She scrubs her face. “If only I were a fae and had magic of my own.”

As the words spill from her lips, I remember that she does indeed have power, albeit latent, untrained, and raw. Nonetheless, fire magic it is.

My lips part to mention this as Isla shifts beside me, crossing her legs. Our knees touch. The poison in my blood slows, all thoughts of escape dissolving as my body ignites with longing.

Wild images dance through my head—flames flickering on golden skin, fingers tracing delicate curves and hollows.

I clear my throat. “Isla, when you saw my beast on the cliffs, were you frightened?” I must be delirious to ask such a foolish question, to burn for her while depleted and in chains. And, also, I am a prince—why should I care what a common mortal thinks?

But more than I need my next breath, I find I require her answer. Desperately.

“Your firebird? I wasn’t afraid of it. I was awestruck. Amazed. And dare I say impressed?”

My eyebrows raise, the corner of my mouth curling as I absorb the sight of her. Silky hair tumbles over her tunic, now silvery blue in the shadows, and embellished with the Merits’ beloved sun emblem.

They have honored her by allowing her to wear this dress, but she wouldn’t understand the elevated position a change-bringer holds in Merit society, even an ineffectual one. And now that they have her, they will never allow her to leave.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she shivers. “You know what? Your firebird looked almost exactly like my tattoo.”

I huff a breath. “Yes. What a coincidence. Or…perhaps not.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t start banging on about the fated mate thing or I’ll have to leave you to talk to the shadows on the wall again.”

“Wait. Not yet.” My hand shoots out, chains clanging as I grip her thigh. “Please. Don’t go.”

She stares at my hand resting gently on her leg. I wait for her to brush it off. To move her knee. Scowl at me. But she shocks me with a smile so bright I can hardly bear it. I drop my gaze to the floor before I do something rash—something I will regret when she runs away from me screaming.

“What would you do if I kissed you now?” she asks.

“What?” My head snaps up, our eyes locking hard.

“You heard me.”

“

?” I choke out an incredulous laugh. “Look at me, filthy, bedraggled, and as your rescuer, I have failed abysmally. Why do you wish to reward my failure with a kiss?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve always been one to test a theory. You know, jump first and hope I don’t break any bones when I land.”

“And if you kissed me, what theory would you be testing?”

“Whether you pay the price of your bargains. How solid your word is.” She takes a quick breath as if there are more reasons, then sighs, deciding not to share them with me. Twisting her upper body, she rises onto her knees and leans closer until we’re breathing the same air.

“You know I cannot lie.”

She smirks. “Yeah, but I can. And if I want to, I have every right to call in the bargain we struck on Mount Cúig and make you kiss me.”

“And you would be a fool to waste your command on something I would give you freely a thousand times over.”

I pick up her hand, placing the palm on my chest. “Feel the pound of my heart, the heat of my skin, then look around and count the nightmares in this cell. This, sweet Isla, is not how I pictured our first kiss.”

I touch her cheek, marveling at the silky texture. “I imagined a lavish feast in my chambers. A roaring fire in the hearth. Fine wine. Soft furs. I want you to feel like a princess when I touch you, not a prisoner.”

“And I want warmth and comfort. And, just for a change, a zing through my blood that doesn’t come from fear or confusion. I want heat and fun. So I’m asking you to give me this now just because I want it. Let me have power over . Take my mind off our reality, Raff. I don’t want to think about where we are anymore.”

Even if I were dying, I could not deny her. As her cherry lips move slowly closer, I frame her face with my palms, losing my last scrap of sanity in the inky depths of her eyes.

Chains chink between us—but they may as well be fashioned from feathers. A soft palm cups my shoulder. Her lashes drop. Her mouth opens—an intake of breath.

I press my lips to hers and the poison sizzles in my blood, then stops, halting its progress toward my coal-black soul.

She presses closer, her hands going to my face. Our tortured breaths combine, panting in sync. Our mouths slide deliciously, pulses pounding, skin on fire. Minds combusting.

The cell disappears. I’m cleaved in half and dragged two ways—one part joins the endless galaxies that spin the fabric between worlds, the other melts slowly, and with every soft moan and ragged sigh, merges with Isla’s being. This girl is mine. I am hers. Sealed with a kiss. My fiery queen.

I cannot—will never get enough of this.

Fortunately, before I can take more than I deserve, her lips leave mine, her face drawing back, and she smiles, indigo eyes gleaming in the dark. “Why do you still smell good? You can’t have had a bath since you’ve been in the tower.”

“Fae do not sweat. We only bathe for pleasure and to improve our looks.”

Her hands drop from my face into her lap. “Lucky you. Or maybe in this case, it’s lucky me.”

“Isla.” I breathe her name like it’s a spell, entwining our hands together. “Do you feel it? Is this spark between us real? Or is it just the curse that forces me to think about you constantly.”

“Nice way to ruin an intense moment. Blame it on the curse. Whatever. Look at it this way, you’re stupidly hot. I’m probably the only girl who’s ever said no to you. Of course we want to kiss each other. But reality check—I’m a human baker, and you’re a cursed fae prince. Let’s not turn this into something that it’s not. Okay?”

My shoulders drop, and I heave a sigh. “If my blood is the poison that kills me, then your kiss is the antidote.”

“Please don’t speak like that. It’s confusing as hell, and crap about the curse puts me off wanting to help you escape.”

“

escape.”

“Yeah. Us.”

I release her hands and lean back against the gritty wall as she rises and dusts off her clothing.

“I’ll keep working on Lidwinia and Elas. They want to help us. Maybe the mysterious Riven does as well. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“You must ask the princess to come speak with me. As future ruler of Talamh Cúig, in return for her assistance, I can offer a pledge of everlasting peace with the Merit kingdom as incentive.”

“As I said, she already wants to help. She’s nothing like her worm-headed brother. I trust her.”

She picks up her bag and stuffs the water pouch inside, her gaze already on the door.

“Isla, don’t go yet. I am lonely here in the dark. Stay a while and speak with me.”

Her arm drops, the bag now hanging loosely from her hand. “What about?”

“Anything.”

Her eyes flick toward the door again. I will need to entice her, to challenge her.

“I dare you to tell me a secret,” I suggest. “And I will tell you one of mine. Not a bargain this time, but a trade made as an offer of friendship.”

My stomach clenches as she walks to the door, my muscles relaxing when she drops the bag, and then turns and walks toward me, her hips pendulous and her eyes hot and wild.

She sits opposite me, crossing her legs as she lifts her stubborn chin. “You go first.”

“As you wish. I will tell you two secrets. The first one is this—when my brother, Rain, died in my arms, I cried for the only time in my life—hot, scalding tears of terrible guilt.”

“Why? It was the poison that killed him, not you.”

“But I should have been helping to find his mate, or searching for a way to end the curse, but instead, I spent my days and nights drinking and carousing and causing trouble at court. As far as I was concerned, there was not a problem in all the realms that couldn’t be drunk or feasted away. The day Rain died, for the first time, I experienced the unbearable pain of losing someone I love, and I learned that no amount of wine or magic or laughter could cure it.”

“Raff.” Her fingers stroke my cheek, skimming over my lips.

“Tell me of your life back in the mortal world.” I say, resisting the urge to nip her finger, to take it in my mouth. “Were you happy?”

Sadly, she withdraws her touch, her hand falling into her lap where she twists the material of her tunic. “Happy enough, I guess. I was always too busy working, and learning, and running from one thing to the next to really enjoy myself properly.”

My spine straightens. “Were you a slave?”

She laughs, the sound sweeping away the darkness in my soul. “No, no. My life was fine. It was comfortable, and I was free to make choices. I know that’s a blessing and shouldn’t ever be taken for granted. It just always felt like something was missing, but I have no idea what.”

know what was missing from her life in the mortal world—

Leaning closer, I lift a lock of hair from her shoulder and rub it gently between my fingers. “Isla, will you tell me one thing that you have never told another soul before?”

The ragged sound of her breathing fills the silence. I count each heartbeat. One. Two. Three. Then four.

“Okay. Here goes…” She brings her knees to her chest, her arms wrapping tightly around them. “When I was seven, my parents divorced. My dad moved in with his new lover and quickly started a second family. He rarely bothered to visit me, but this one time when he did, I was a little older, and before he drove off in his car—that’s like a carriage but without horses—I stole his wallet, made a small bonfire in the yard, and burned all his cards. And right then and there, watching the image of his smug face melt off the surface of his license, my love of flames was born.”

I don’t understand the meaning of every strange word she uses, but as my pulse drums in my veins, I have to clench my fists to stop myself from dragging her close. I can see her as clearly as if she stands before me, the young girl entranced by flames, terror and excitement dancing over her face, her body enveloped by a black, star-studded sky.

“It was night time,” I say, certain that it was.

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

. I shrug. “I have my ways.”

“Huh. Mysterious. So, what’s your second secret? Do I have to do something wicked to extract it from you?”

I wish to answer because a few excellent ideas have sprung to mind. Instead, I quickly search my heart for a truth that won’t cause her offense, finding one with ease. “Until recently, this was a secret I kept even from myself. Now I offer it to you freely. Never have I seen a finer shade of blue than the one that shines from your eyes, Isla. It is an azure sky flecked with golden sunshine that warms and lightens my heart, even in this cell full of nightmares.”

A slow smile sets her eyes on fire. “Are you trying to tell me I make you happy, Raff?”

I nod.

“Wow. You sweetheart! I think I’m starting to see a glimpse of the man Lara spoke about.”

My eyebrows rise. “You mean my brother, Ever? I remind you of him?”

“No, you doofus.” Like a blunt knife blade, her finger gouges the center of my chest. “I mean you—the charming version of Raff.”

“Oh, that is alright then.”

“I like your smile,” she whispers.

“And I yours.” I purposely omit the word I cannot say aloud. Love. I love her smile. Its effect is the strongest magic I have ever felt.

“Stop using it,” she says, her perfect smile growing. “It’s too distracting.”

“I cannot help myself,” I admit.

“Me neither.”

Then her mouth is on mine and the kissing spell begins again, only this time it is hotter. I am more desperate, determined to take enough heat and oxygen from her to keep my life force kindling until the next time she comes to this ghastly cell. I don’t know how long I must wait before I’ll see her again, so I take more. And more. And more. My palms holding her face, I moan into her mouth. “Isla.”

Her hands on my chest, she pushes, making space between our bodies and gentling our kiss, slowing the pace. Nibbling. Calming. Soothing.

When her lips leave mine, she says, “I don’t know why I keep doing that.”

I think know, but I’m not going to ruin this moment like I did after our first kiss by speaking of it.

“I should go before someone comes looking for me.”

“Can’t you stay longer?” I ask, wishing I could keep the pleading tone from my voice. When I’m with her, I do not feel like a prince. I am her supplicant, her servant. “If you do, I will tell you stories of Spark and Balor. I have many funny—”

“I’d love to hear them, but I really have to go.” She kisses my cheek and gets to her feet.

Smoothing her clothes, she says, “Don’t look so sad. I’ll find a way to get us out of this, Raff. I promise. And next time I come visit you, I’ll bring macarons.”

“What are macarons? l pray to Dana that they can break open my shackles or this may well be my chamber of horrors until the end of time.”

Her laughter arrows through my ribs, piercing my chest with warmth.

“They’re cookies, not locksmithing devices I’m afraid.” She walks to the door then turns back to me. “Hang in there, Raff. And don’t start eating anything gross like rats or cockroaches. If I can’t get Lidwinia and Riven to break you out, I’m pretty sure Ever will come for you soon.”

He won’t.

He .

I take a breath to tell her this, but she slips through the door and closes it before I can speak, sliding the bolt into place behind her.

Burying my face in my hands, I release a groan of frustration. There are no windows in this cell from which to view the sky, but still, day and night, I feel the power of the moon waning. And, unfortunately, I know what the dark moon brings in this land.

Death.

I must warn her of the coming feast, the celebration we will both be attending—Isla as guest of honor, me dragged there fighting tooth and nail.

I know what is coming, and I failed to prepare her.

This is becoming a terrible habit—failing my mate.

Long ago, when I was a boy, my family visited the Merit Court, and I had the extreme displeasure of witnessing the horrors of this particular celebration.

The wicked . The Blood Sun ceremony.

Never again, I swore at the time.

And now never has almost arrived.