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‘Did I ever tell you how utterly irresistible you are when you’re threatening bloody murder in my name, Em?’
‘Your problem is you’re waiting for some punishment,’ he interrupted, leaning leisurely as ever against the edge of the desk as he ran a hand through his long hair. ‘Which I suppose is natural, given that you grew up with parents who wouldn’t allow you to forgive yourself for a mistake unless you’d suffered appropriately first. It’s just nonsense, too.’
I crawled over him, laughter bubbling out of me. His answering grin was positively wolfish – not the look of a predator finding his prey, but rather … Rather, a predator finding his match.
‘Liria.’ Even breathed so quietly, I could make out the Faerie word. My love.
‘So how do you get used to it?’ I said quietly, throwing a quick look over my shoulder to make sure no one was close enough to hear me. ‘This feeling that you’re just a little too much for the place you’re in?’ Creon sent me a side glance, eyebrow quirking up. ‘It’s too small, you mean.’ ‘What?’ ‘Watch out who you’re blaming,’ he clarified, lips tight. ‘You’re not too much. The place is too small. Very different problem, very different solution.’
good sense battling overwhelming desire, duty battling lust.
Only his fingers moved between us as my gaze slid his way, almost imperceptible twitches, forming the shapes I knew so well … Love you.
He’s served his purpose.
‘You’ll destroy me one day, cactus,’ he whispered, and I couldn’t tell whether it was laughter or some other emotion choking his voice. ‘You’ll be the utter ruin of me, and hell take me, you’ll be worth every moment of it.’
‘Some would call that shameless manipulation,’
‘I’m just nosy, too.’
too. Again, the scent of almonds and orange filled the morning air, mingling with cinnamon and jasmine and the lingering fragrance of dew on leaves. I hadn't known peace had its own smell until that moment, and now I didn’t think I’d ever forget it.
‘Please remember that you are not to blame for their judgement, will you? You did not scare them. You did not turn them into cowards. Plenty of humans would have been proud to call themselves your parents – you were very, very unlucky, that is all.’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Her voice had gone low and hoarse, the words spat into Halbert’s face as he dazedly prodded his reddening cheek. Her hands had balled into white-knuckled fists. ‘Don’t you dare call my daughter a fae whore ever again, you fucking swine.’
‘I’m sick of catering to cowards. Time for war. Let’s go, Em.’
‘So,’ she said, voice tired. ‘Apologies, first of all. Not how I was planning to tell you – I got a little carried away. Bastards.’
I fell into the seat beside her as if I’d never done anything else. Curled up against her shoulder like a small, scared child and clutched my arms around her willowy frame, soaking up the soft jasmine scent of her body, the quiet strength of her touch, the soothing, unmistakable warmth of living human skin. She let out a choked sound and cradled me in her arms, forehead bumping against the crown of my head – my mother, holding me.
The way this heals the mother wound...
‘Let’s go kill the bitch, then,’ I said.
We both know you're not here to fix anything. You're here because you're trying to punish yourself again. You should know by now that I can tell the difference between those two things, even if you stubbornly insist on confusing them.’
‘Even if you can't be everyone's hero, that doesn't make you a villain, cactus.’
‘You keep trying to be the flawless hero. But I truly don’t think it’s perfection that will save us in the end. It’s persistence. It’s digging your heels in the sand and refusing to give up until things are finally as they are supposed to be – and mistakes or no, you’ve always been frighteningly good at being stubborn.’
It was wonderful and terrible in equal measures. Wonderful, because something about having both my parents by my side made me feel complete in ways I had never quite imagined, an answer to parts of me I’d never even realised were questions. And yet ... terrible, because that was how my whole life should have been. Terrible, because I could think of nothing but Creon and those hollow, hollow eyes. Terrible, most of all, because I had only just found them, and tomorrow I might lose them all over again.
‘I’d still rather die in your arms than in anyone else’s.’
Was it better, I wondered, to at least have found that one soul who made my heart sing before the bitter end came for me? Or was it worse, to die knowing what immortality might have been for me, knowing how much I would have had to stay alive for?
Rosalind looked about to be violently sick.
The humanness of her mom
I faltered and grabbed his hand – one last touch, one last echo of that love I’d follow into hell and back …
And damn him … I did.
