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October 3 - October 4, 2025
The Mark on his hand may not be visible here, but it drew him to her.
He’d cut their palms to utilize the blood magic of the twin flame Mark, to share his own power with her. He didn’t know if it would work with her not having the Mark, but he had to give her every advantage he could. He’d needed her to dredge up that magic that slumbered so deep within. The magic that they had kept slumbering with her nightly tonic. Her magic had reacted exactly as he had hoped, manifesting as self-preservation, and Traveled her to the sea, to the sun. Traveling— a gift few Fae were blessed with, but one he suspected she possessed when Lord Tyndell had all but confirmed who her
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Ice shards, as sharp as glass, and small flames formed a swirling shield around Scarlett that kept them from coming any closer. Shadows wove in and out of the ice and flames. She allowed the rolling waves through and seemed to welcome the soothing feeling on her legs as she knelt in the sand. She was trying to stay grounded, to remind herself this was reality.
This unbridled, continued display would certainly call all the creatures of the realms to them. It was a blast of power that would surely be felt across the lands, across the seas. His own queen would likely arrive shortly at this blast of magic. He feared little, but this uncontrolled power was terrifying.
He could see her trying to steady herself, trying to control all the emotions he could scent on her.
“These seem to be all the help I need,” she said thoughtfully, hollowly, watching the shadows float along her arms. They caressed her, stroking her cheek, down her throat. They swirled along her torso, her breasts, her thighs, as if seducing her. “Yes, but the shadows do not love you. The shadows cannot heal you.” “Oh, you are quite mistaken. The Darkness indeed loves me.”
Those shadows danced around her, taunting him as they slithered along his body. She was completely lost in the thrall of her magic, uncoiling from being suppressed for so long. Too damn long. He could feel it waking up, stretching, suddenly realizing it’d been slumbering, realizing it had freedom within reach. Now it was angry at being forced to sleep, at being forced into a cage.
When Scarlett met his gaze this time, her eyes were not icy blue or gold or full of shadows. They were silver, as bright as starlight, glowing and radiant.
“I will help you kill the Fire Prince,” he whispered. The last words he’d be able to utter, not even sure if she’d hear him. But the words hit home. Her shadows seemed to flinch, loosening their hold. Her shield fell to the ground, flames extinguishing, and ice shards sprayed as they shattered. He felt some of them cut his arms, his knees, his cheek, sharp as knives. He didn’t care as he fell forward onto his hands, gulping in the sea air and feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin, feeling his blood begin to flow again. He heard the others coughing and gasping for breath behind him.
His only care was getting the female in his arms across the border alive.
Instinctively, Sorin put his hand on her stomach to hold her still, and her eyes snapped to his at the contact. It was the first time she’d looked at him since the beach. He held her stare, and every sound around him seemed to diminish. Her eyes were like chips of ice and radiated with hurt and betrayal and loathing. “Look at that,” Sorin said softly, “some emotion.” Her eyes narrowed, and Sorin nearly sighed in relief at the slight reaction.
“Scarlett,” the prince said tentatively. “Do you need anything?” “I’m sure she needs some fresh clothing and a break from insufferable males,” Eliza drawled,
“Easy, Sorin.” He felt Eliza grip his arm hard, digging in her nails. “Unless you intend to tell her, you need to keep yourself under control.”
“She needs to ride with the—” Eliza stopped abruptly as she came up beside Eirwen on her mare. “She needs to ride with Sorin, your Highness. As we near the border, there will be threats that he is better able to protect her from.”
He quickly unfolded the brown cloak and placed it around Scarlett’s shoulders, then gently turned her to face him so he could do up the buttons. When he was done, he hooked a finger under chin, lifting her face to his. “Can you say one word to me, Scarlett? Just one,” he asked softly. “Please.” Her eyes finally met his and held for a moment before she whispered hoarsely, “It hurts.” She turned back, placing her foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself into the saddle, reaching back to pull her hood up over her silver hair.
She could hardly hear any of them. The roaring in her head was excruciating. It was taking every effort not to clamp her hands over her ears and scream. The shadows kept brushing against her, and she was counting down the time until she would take her tonic.
She ran her fingers over the saddle horn, focusing on the feel of the leather beneath her fingertips. He’d known. He’d known for days that she was the weapon his queen desired, that he’d been searching for. He’d known her mother. He’d known so much and hadn’t told her.
“I can handle it,” he said quietly. His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, and she fought the urge to shiver against him, to lean back into him. “I can handle what you want to say to me, Scarlett. I can take it.”
She nestled into his hips and tipped her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes. “Please, Love. Talk to me,” he murmured into her ear. His chin grazed her cheek. She ignored the dip in her stomach at the contact and said quietly, “Don’t call me that,” as she sank back into the darkness once more.
“It’s all so loud, and it hurts. It makes the pain from this… It’s nothing compared to the roaring in my head. I just want it to stop.”
“You are welcome to set up your bedrolls anywhere you would like,” Sorin answered tightly. “And if I want my bedroll next to hers?” “Anywhere else.” “You are not going to sleep next to her,” Callan hissed between his teeth. “You do not give me orders, Prince.” In the glow of the fire, Scarlett saw Callan arch a brow. “Don’t I? Are you not a general in my father’s armies?” The half-grin that tilted up on Sorin’s mouth made Scarlett hold her already shallow breath, but Eliza appeared by his side. “Sorin will sleep next to her for the same reason she rides with him, your Highness.”
“I hate you,” she whispered to him. “I hate that you hurt me.” “I know.” He reached out, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I don’t want to sleep next to Callan.” “I know. You do not have to,” he said quietly, his hand still cupping her cheek. “I hate that I want you to sleep next to me.” “I know. It is okay. It is all going to be okay. You are going to be okay,” he answered.
“Make it stop, Sorin. Please make it stop,” she whispered. He pressed his forehead to hers, and his ash and cedar scent wrapped around her. They sat like that, gazes locked, until Eliza returned with her tonic. When he pulled the stopper from the top, he said, “This is the last night you will take this. When we are home…” he swallowed thickly. “When we are home, you will step out of the cage this puts you in, Love. You will be free. No one will ever cage you again.” He brought the vial to her lips, and she allowed him to tip it into her mouth.
“Do you have something against the Crown Prince?” “Besides the fact that he has shared your bed and kissed you more than I have? Not particularly, but that is enough, I suppose,” Sorin answered.
“Is she more powerful than the Fire Prince?” “No. The Fire Prince is the most powerful fire-wielder in the Courts. That is why he is the Prince of the Court,” Sorin answered.
“You said you would help me kill him,” she whispered softly. There was a long beat of silence. “I did. I will.” “How? If he is that powerful?” Scarlett questioned. “I know his weaknesses.” “You do?” That was surprising. She couldn’t decide if he was on good terms with the Fire Prince or not. Was he in his good graces, or did he work against him with the queen?
“I hate that I could have survived every single thing that Mikale would have done to me if it had meant my family was safe, would have endured every second of it, but your pretending to care was what actually broke me. I hate that I am trained to defend myself against all kinds of attacks. That I can torture and inflict unfathomable physical pain and can endure the same, but nothing could have prepared me for the pain that came when you broke me.”
“I hate that you are so incredibly perfect, and I do not deserve you, but I want you anyway. I hate that the mortal prince has had you, and I have not.” Her eyes fluttered back open, and his mouth was inches from hers. “I hate that even though I hate you, I want to kiss you. I hate that we’re not alone and that is keeping me from doing so.”
“Love,” he whispered so low she knew Fae wouldn’t even be able to hear. “If we were alone, I would make you forget about all of this. I would show you just how sorry I am. I would start with your lips, your neck. I would find my way to your breasts because I want to know how they feel in my mouth and not just my hand. My tongue would taste and explore— your mouth, your breasts, your stomach. I would finish what we started in that apartment. I would find out exactly how your body reacts to me. To my fingers touching you, being inside you.”
Then Sorin’s lips were on hers, and she gasped at the contact. It was a quick kiss, only a few seconds, before he pulled back and murmured onto her lips, “I hate that I lose all shred of self-control around you.” Scarlett swallowed. “Callan—” “I am going to be really honest here, Love. I do not give a fuck if Callan or anyone else just saw that,” Sorin whispered. Scarlett huffed a laugh. “All right then.”
As if he sensed her presence, he looked over his shoulder at her.
“If you do not want fruit, I can find you some bread or meat,” Callan said. “No,” she said quickly. “I’m not all that hungry. Fruit is fine.” “But you have hardly eaten,” Callan argued with a frown. Scarlett inhaled deeply and was immediately caught off guard by the pine and rain scent that filled her senses rather than one of ash and cedar.
“Why?” he demanded, trying to keep his voice low. “Why is he allowed to speak with you? Why is he allowed to touch you? Comfort you? Why do your shadows let him in?” “My darkness lets him in because he does not fear it,” she hissed. “My darkness lets him in because he fights the shadows to get to me. He gets to talk to me and touch me and comfort me because he knows how to reach me when the past is so loud all I can do is scream.”
“Liar,” he purred. “May I please help you on to Eirwen?” Scarlett sighed loudly. “Yes.”
in. He was behind her a moment later, but his arm did not curl around her hips as it had all day yesterday. She glanced over and found it settled on his own thigh, while his other hand held the reins in front of her. “Ready?” he asked. Scarlett only nodded. As Eirwen started forward, Sorin dipped his head slightly, but still did not touch her. “But just so we are clear, Love, I fully expect you to be asking me to touch you before we cross the border.”
“I swear to Saylah, if you call me Lady one more time, I am going to touch you right off this horse.” “I am not sure I consider that a threat,” he purred low into her ear. “Saylah?” Eliza cut in. “The goddess of shadows and night? She is not usually spoken of.”
“I can hear your stomach growling, Love. Please eat.” There was no teasing in his tone at the words. None of the sarcastic arrogance. With one hand still on the saddle horn, she took the pear from him and bit into it. The juice was sweet and lush, and at that first bite, she realized how ravenous she was. She practically inhaled the pear, and Sorin was offering her another as she finished off the first.
Sorin’s arm was instantly around her, pulling her back into him as she dropped the pear and both hands clamped onto the saddle horn. “This was considered a necessary touch,” he whispered into her ear. When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “Are you steady?” She nodded her head, and his hand squeezed her hip gently before his arm slid away from her, returning to his own thigh.
“Fae blood to the Night Children would be like… opium to an addict, I suppose. The Night Children are descended from the Avonleyans. When the Great War broke out, many sided with Deimas and Esmeary because the Avonelayns would not allow them to feed from the Fae. They forbid it. By fighting with Esmeray, they were basically allowed to feast.” “But you let Nuri feed from you?” Scarlett pointed out. “Yes, I did,” Sorin replied, reaching around her with a piece of bread. Scarlett took it from him without thinking as he continued. “If a Fae is fed upon and not drained and killed by a Night Child,
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The Avonleyans didn’t feed on Fae. How did the Night Children come to do so?” “The Avonleyans did feed on the Fae,” Sorin answered, placing a piece of cheese in her hands. “What? The Fae fought with the Avonleyans. That’s why King Deimas and Queen Esmeray—” “I know why Deimas and Esmeray did what they did to the Fae,” Sorin cut her off quietly. “The Avonleyans blessed the Fae with their magic, but there is always a cost, Scarlett. I have told you this.” “The cost of the magic is that they had to be food for the Avonleyans?”
It is not feeding like you eat food for physical sustenance. That is how Night Children feed on mortals and Fae. Avonleyans need Fae for magical sustenance. They feed on their magic for healing and strengthening their own powers,”
“They are incredibly powerful, but by keeping the Avonleyans sequestered to their continent, Deimas and Esmeray essentially cut them off from the Fae. They have been separated from us for centuries, and thus they have weakened them. They would still be strong. They still have magic, but one would guess it would be a fraction of what they could be,”
Queen Esmeray was indeed Fae. She was actually a sister of the Fae Queens. There were three, not two. Some say she was disgruntled that her territory had so many mortals, so she incited a war against her sisters and Avonleya under the guise of them wanting to enslave the humans. Others say Deimas planted those seeds when they had wed and were ruling together. Maybe neither of those is true and something else entirely sparked the Great War, but what I do know is that the Fae never endeavored to enslave the mortals,”
“Scarlett has been eating all morning,” Sorin answered, coming towards her. Scarlett’s brows shot up. She had been eating all morning.
“You distracted me so I would eat?” Taking her exposure of the wound as permission to touch her, he began removing the dressing, breaking their stare. “Your stomach was growling so loud I knew you were starving, Princess,” he answered. “Plus, you ate that first pear like you would never eat again, so…”
“Eliza always seems to show up when Callan comes around.” “Does she now?” Sorin asked. She could see the hint of a small smile tug up on his lips.
She bears their Mark, he had yelled to Lord Tyndell. She traced the stars with her finger, mulling over his words. Could he have meant the beautiful man she often saw in her dreams? The one who had given her the Mark? Who had called her Lady of Darkness? That was impossible. How could Mikale possibly know any of that? No one else had made any comment about the Mark.
“Everything will change when we near the border.” There was a twinge of agony in his voice, and Scarlett found herself stepping into him. “This is my last chance to have you all to myself for a good long while.”
“Do you understand yet, Love?” he murmured onto her skin. “You are my necessity.”
“I still hate you,” she whispered. He brushed a kiss to her lips. “I know.”
