As the World Falls Down

Story number 5 in this collection. 

Never trust a fae...

You can find the paperback collection here, on Amazon. 

Next week, our final story airs... Take Me Back to Eden

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:04

Love sounds different when it's whispered in the dark. Welcome back to Scary Stories to Tell in the Bedroom, a romantic horror anthology. The need for a person can create a storm with unpredictable results. Sometimes, our favorite love songs would sound very different if they were written from the perspective of a love gone wrong. Or worse, from the mind of someone who refuses to let go. In this collection, I'll be sharing stories that are creepy, unsettling, seductive, and sometimes deeply disturbing. And dear listener, understand what I mean when I say not all love is for you, and not all love is good for you. Trigger warning, my listeners, these stories are a little fucked up, extra freaky, but isn't that why you're here? This anthology includes six stories, each dropping weekly on Sunday. Tonight's story is titled As the World Falls Down. You know the drill. So let's begin. Stay on the willow side of the stream, Popop said as he handed me a beat up red tin folders coffee can. Don't cross the water, don't go into the woods. Cutting him off, I wrinkled my nose and picked at the spots of rust on the can. Don't talk to anyone. I looked up at the white haired man in front of me. What if you come down there? He grunted, shuffling the stacks of other cans filled with various odds and ends. The garage smell like a mix of gas and oil, Newport cigarettes and hay. If I come down there it's because you're in trouble. Where do I stand and call you? On the back porch, I answered confidently and he nodded. An idea came over me as I nibbled my lower lip. Why can't I cross a stream? There's a path and a clearing in the sun. I always asked this question. It came up at least once every two weeks because the answer was never something I could really quantify. It wasn't an answer a ten year old girl wanted to hear when there was adventure waiting. My papa was a patient man, always had been. He would explain himself as necessary, pressing the idea that specificity breeds clarity. He liked to be exact, and when he wanted to be understood. But one thing he did not like was for someone to question his wisdom. Not everything has an answer, Therese. Sometimes you have to be okay with that. Sometimes you must think, what will I gain by knowing this? What could I lose? Choose the wiser option. In this question, and all my questions surrounding the willow tree and the stream, I needed to know. Taking a deep breath, my grandfather's wrinkled camel colored skin sagged around his mouth. He leaned against an old chiffer robe and we both listened as the wood creaked in response. He reached into his shirt pocket and removed a pack of new ports, tapping one out. He placed a cigarette between his lips and pulled a lighter from his slacks before answering me. Not all the trees are your friends, he said slowly, as the end of the newport lit up a bright red. Not all of them want to keep you safe from whatever else is roaming the woods. Trees are old. They can see more than you and I. He dragged in a breath, holding it deep in his lungs before letting it sift through his nose. The willow wards off negativity and evil, so you stay close. The conversation was over at that point, and in that moment I heard more of an explanation than I ever had before. Without another word, Popop walked toward the mouth of the garage, my cue to follow him. Spying an old fishing hook on the chiffer robe, I snatched it quickly before setting my bare feet into the dusty prints of his worn leather slippers. I continued down the driveway and toward the soft dirt path leading to the stream. Turning around every so often, I caught the wisp of smoke and the soft brown eyes watching my descent, my grandfather's protective gaze following me. The smell of the wind changed from nicotine to fresh water and moist soil. The moss under my feet was soft and springy, and the pep in my step grew the closer I got to where I loved to be. There was something about the water that called to me. I had to be near it, I loved to be in it, and quite often I fell asleep to the sound of it running. The soft dirt turned into slick mud near the bank, and I walked carefully along it so I wouldn't slip. The babble of the stream calmed my soul, and as I made my way toward the willow, I listened for the frogs and the splash of trout. I'd never caught a trout before, but that would have been the most remarkable feat of the day. Just ahead stood the willow, her rough bark covered in thick patches of moss and varying shades of green. Reaching out I smoothed my hand along her trunk and hummed softly. Hello, Miss Willow, I called, gently setting my can down at the stream's edge. I promise not to cross the stream, but I want a fish. I tugged lightly on her tendrils, fingering the leaves. May I borrow some of your branches, please? Her answer was usually yes, always acts nicely. The wind picked up and she moved her branches in front of my face, as if showing me the best ones to take. Taking a handful, I sat beneath her shade, stripping the leaves and weaving them into a proper fishing pole. An hour later I had found a few worms and a thin branch. I stuck a worm onto the hook, tossed a line into the water, and waited for something to nibble. Many of my long summer days were spent at my grandfather's house. Being the eldest daughter in a black household came with responsibilities I didn't want. I wasn't ready for care charges and babysitting. I was washing dishes, vacuuming, folding laundry, taking care of babies, and helping make food. I was given duties to perform when I should have been allowed to act like a child, like my brothers. At Popop's house, I was allowed to be a ten year old girl. I ran in the fields and caught lightning bugs. I listened to my grandfather's stories about the fifties and sixties and when my mother was young. I read ancient National Geographic magazines and marveled over countries I dreamed about visiting My favorite part was going down to the stream. Despite the warnings of danger, the water was a gentle current, and if I waded in it lapped softly at my thighs. On the other end of the stream lay a forest filled with all types of trees. I knew the names of the dogwood, birch, pine, and others, but their branches stretched far into the sky and reached toward each other in places choking the sunlight from the reaching the ground. What fascinated me most about that forest was the clearing on the other side. A mere ten to twelve feet in front of me. Sometimes I thought it was perfectly placed to entice me. After a good downpour, a circle of white mushrooms would appear there, and the shaft of sunlight that illuminated the center called to me, like I should come over and play. Pick the mushrooms and examine their funny little bottoms. Sitting on the bank, I felt pulled to look up into the clearing. The birds called from the other side, chickadees chirping at each other fighting over territory. Orioles called back and forth, and here I was, mouth open, ignoring the slight nibbles on my line to stare at a place I wasn't allowed to enter. After six unsuccessful attempts at catching trout, I built a mud house on the bank. I gathered tiny sticks to construct a roof, and was working on the moss covering when I heard a soft, pouty sound. The wind stilled, and my hands did too. I strained my ears to listen. Please, the voice said, carried on the air. The willow tree seemed to groan behind me, but the voice made goosebumps rise on my arms and sent a tingle down my spine that almost felt like a tickle. Hello? I called, abandoning my house to stand at the very edge of the bank. My toes dug into the mud, creating little pools of water around my ankles. Please what? The sniffle sounded like a child, someone like me, and my concern grew. Where are you? A trout snagged my line, dragging the braided willow branches through the grass. My eyes darted to it, then back to the trees. My fish or someone who needed help. I wasn't allowed to cross the stream, but what if someone needed me? Biting my lower lip, I took a deep breath and narrowed my eyes. I hadn't heard anything else yet. Here, please the crying began in earnest, and all my attention was drawn to the trees. The rustle of the branches seemed to beckon me, and the willow's outer tendrils whipped above my head, waving wildly. I wasn't supposed to leave his protection. But someone needed help. Crossing the stream proved easy. Armed with a well braided willow staff, I stepped through the trees and toward the clearing. Hello? I called again. Oh the voice sounded surprised. You're coming. Yes, to the left. Come closer. It was a boy. That much I could tell. And as I pushed past a tangle of birch trees, I spotted him. His white hair was shaved close on the sides of his head, but tied near the nape of his neck with a black sash. He wore a white shirt with billowing sleeves and brown slacks that stopped at his calves. His pale skin seemed to glisten, whether with sweat or dew I wasn't sure. His back was to me, and as I approached I noticed I could see the outline of his spine through his shirt. Was something wrong with him? Are you okay? Did you fall? I asked, walking through the tall grass. What I wasn't prepared for was his face. When the boy looked up at me, his ice blue eyes shone bright, but their centers were black as coal. His almond shaped eyes were cat like, and he blinked slowly as his smile stretched wide. It didn't look right. The clouds began to cover the sky. I glanced up twice before looking back at him. Did you fall? I asked again. One of his legs stretched out before him, but the other was bent at an angle caught in a bear trap. Oh no. I knew what a bear trap was. Pop had a rusty broken one in the garage that I used to snap open and close for fun. The boy smirked at me. I don't think it hurt much anymore, but can you help me? Indecision churned in my stomach, making me feel sick. I should get my grandfather. I don't think I can open it. The boy's hand snapped out. No, only you can help me. Shaking my head I tried to pull away. Don't be scared. I'll be quick, I promise. No, the boy cried, his voice echoing strangely through the trees. The black at the center of his eyes seemed to widen. He won't be able to see me. But you can. You're special to me. I've seen you playing, playing with the willow's branches. She gave them to you, didn't she? His fingers brushed gently along my forearm. My skin crawled where he touched me, leaving goosebumps and a sense of unease. I don't know. I feel funny about this. Well the boy snapped. You shouldn't have crossed a stream, Patrice. You're far from Mother Willow now. So you have a choice. His fingers felt like ice as he snagged my wrist and pulled me toward him. You can help me or wander the forest. How did he know my name? The willow branches in my hand began to grow warm. The warmer they got, the more I noticed they seemed to vibrate. What was happening? One word echoed in my skull from my grandfather's warnings. Fay. Lifting my other hand, I tapped the boy's wrist with the braided willow and he snatched it away. How dare you? I his whole form seemed to contort before he turned his face away from me. Don't do that again. Unsealy, huh? I swallowed hard, remembering the stories I thought belonged in books. Unsealy Fay were downright malicious, sometimes bordering on evil when it came to humans. If he called me here, or had been watching me, he didn't mean to help me or be my friend. The unsealy boy chuckled darkly. Well look who's intelligent all of a sudden, he snapped. Help me, stupid girl, and keep that willow wand away from me. No. Tiptoeing backward I kept my eyes on the forest around me. It had been barely noon when I left my grandfather's house and now it felt like evening on this side of the stream. I hadn't noticed before how low the branches hung or how they swayed in the wind. I'm going home, across the stream, and back to the willow. The boy laughed. Tell me, pretty trees, how will you get there if I don't allow it? The chain on the bear trap rattled, and he winced in pain. Iron Iron held him there, but who set the trap? The willow wand shook in my hand and the trees bowed out of the way as I lifted it in front of my face. Relief rushed through me as I waved it, and a path opened through the trees. I could see the stream and the willow waiting on the other side. Mother Willow will take me home. I swallowed hard, lifting my chin. My grandfather's voice echoed in my mind. Never show fear, hold your head up, and make a choice. I was going home. It felt hard to turn around. It felt almost impossible to move my feet through the grass across the ground to begin the long walk back. And yet, the more I set my mind on going, the easier it became. No, the boy called, wait, wait. The chain rattled and he hissed in pain. Okay, wait, human, listen. I tried to ignore him, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I never beg. I will beg now, okay, let's make a deal. Yes, let's do that. The chain rattled louder and the boy cried out in pain. Do not be cruel. Don't move, just hear me out. Please, I'm begging you. His voice wobbled through the trees like something out of control. I stopped, keeping my wand raised in front of me. I didn't want to turn back and look at him. What? My name is he winced. I am Prince Alvar. I'm the son of King Sigurd of the Unsealy Court of Winter. Alvar swallowed hard. I watched you because I am fascinated by you. Watching you I got into this mess, and the old man knows too much. He groaned. I suspect he set the trap. What old man? I asked, but I already knew. Alvar scoffed. You know Pop I let out a shaky breath. What do you want, Prince Alvar? It was quiet, too quiet. No birds, no squirrels, not even a scurry of a mouse. When I took another step, Alvar called out again. Alright, let's make a deal. You know, Fay, keep our word. Turning back I scowled. I also know you twist words, double entendre. Big word for a ten year old, Alvar clucked his tongue. I started reading when I was four. Holding my head high I narrowed my eyes at him. Not all of us humans are so mundane. I had just learned that word from this week's spelling test. Alvar leaned his head back, exposing his pale throat. Forgive me then. He flicked his long fingers toward the trap. Help me. If my grandfather meant to trap him, then who was I to set him free? Then again, if he couldn't cross the stream, maybe it was safe. I would have to make him promise that I could go home unharmed and that no harm would come to my family. Alvar seemed to sense my thoughts. I'll drop the glamour, show you what I really look like. That was tempting. I'll sweeten the pot. You help me. Set me free. You can use your wand to go home, no harm, no foul. And pop up? Alvar gritted his teeth. I can't cross the brook, and as far as I know, that willow will never allow anything to encroach on her land. He belongs to her. Neither of you has anything to fear from us, Trees. So there was an us now. I made a mental note of that. Turning around, I clinched the wand tight in my hand. I set you free. You don't play any games, no tricks. I will walk through this forest and cross the stream. Sounds good to me, he answered. As I approached Alvar, I knelt on one knee. I believe you promised me that you'd drop the glamour. He smiled, huffing a breath as he did so. So I did, he answered, and the air around him began to waver. The air grew cold as the human legs turned into deer hooves. The broad smile on his face was indeed wide, stretching from one corner of his mouth to the other. On Alvar's head were a pair of deer antlers, tiny buds still covered in velvet, his ice blue eyes with the black irises inverted, and now the inky blackness covered his sclera. Ta he waved his hands in the air. Now if you would be so kind. Tucking the braided branches under my arm, I bent down and clamped my hands on either side of the trap. Getting my fingers in the right place to pry it open was hard work. When I open it a little bit, you have to pull out, I grunted, preparing myself. Yes, genius, I'm well Alvar screamed in pain, growling in his throat. I let the trap close hard on his leg and was now smiling at the unsealy. Ready? He shivered in pain. Yes. One. I steadied my fingers on the grooves. Two. Flexing my fingers I adjusted my stance. Three. Pulling with all of my strength, I opened the trap as far as possible until I felt him move away. As I let the trap go, it snapped close again, and I examined my fingers for damage. There was none, and I grabbed my wand once more looking around for Alvar. He seemed gone, and I didn't want to waste time. Holding the willow wand as Alvar called it, I watched as the trees bent and moved. They opened their branches, showing me the way back to the stream. The air was thick on this side, ripe and moist. It wasn't clear, clean, and relaxed like near the willow. As I neared the stream, I breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to step back into the water when a hand landed on my shoulder. Alvar was a bit taller than me, not by much, and that was only because of his small antlers. I suppose no one told you what happens when you save a fee. The other part of our deal, girl? No one had. What? I am yours. He let go of my shoulder to hold his hands by his sides. I owe you my life, so when you call upon me, I will come to your side. He reached forward, tapping my nose. Exciting, isn't it? Not really. I rubbed my nose where his cold finger touched. I have no use for you. Alvar leaned forward. Yet he whispered, I have a use for you. You'll need me, Trace. I know it. It's always some trickery. Narrowing my eyes at him, I nodded, resigning to never call upon him. In my teenage years, Alvar came to me in my dreams. He hunted the space between wakefulness and sleep to talk and tease me. I learned more about this prince of the unsealy winter court and his identity. Alvar is the youngest son of King Sigurd. His mother is the queen and his favorite wife, which of course Affords him many pleasantries and privileges, or so he says. He has an older brother, but Lucian's mother is of the Spring Court, a Celia Fey, and one of Oberon's many daughters. She never loved Sigurd. She was acquired in a trade, again, so says Alvar. Only on some moonlit nights did he creep into my window and lie beside me in bed. He played with my hair and told me stories, some disturbing about the Fey world and its creatures. The red caps are the worst to unsuspecting humans, he'd say, staring into my wide eyes. Why do they call them red caps? I'd ask, full of wonder. Alvar would snort they wear red hats. They're evil creatures, though, no bigger than a gnome. They carry sickles and cut the Achilles of any unsuspecting mortal. They like to watch them crawl in pain and cry for help. He'd laugh, but I was always profoundly disturbed by his disdain for humans. Alvar loathed humanity, but I wasn't sure what made me different. Why did he keep coming to my bedroom to talk? Of course, he always mentioned when I would come to the underground. When I take you home, no one will bother you. Maybe some sprites will tease you, but they won't cause real harm, only playful mischief, he said, stroking my forearm. Alvar, I turned onto my stomach and narrowed my eyes at him. I'm never going to the underground. He would always smile and kiss the tip of my nose. In time, my light, he'd answer. He was always gone before the sun rose, leaving my room smelling like winter. The scent of fire, clove, and ginger clung to my pillows. Alvar came to me in person at night when I became an adult, no more dreams or lingering between sleep and waking. He would knock at the door waiting to be invited inside. He'd ask me to slip away with him on moonlit nights, to walk in the forest or dance in fairy rings. Even though I lived far from my grandfather, his lessons lingered heavily in my mind. I never willingly placed my hand in Alvar's and strayed from my home. He never forced me. On my twenty sixth birthday, Alvar came one night, ringing the doorbell an annoying number of times like he always did. Alvar, I shook my head as I opened the door, and noticed he did little to hide his fe form. His antlers were now impressive and prominent, a ten point rack crowning his head. His solid black eyes with icy blue centers stared back at me. It took me back to the day we met in the clearing, and I took a step back. Come with me, Trace. He held his hand out, long pale fingers curling invitingly. The other he kept behind his back. I have a present for you. It is your birthday. I smirked, lifting the right corner of my mouth. Alvar, what's that in your hand? Your present, he scoffed, though his hand remained extended. Come. I shook my head and stepped back into the house. You may come in and have some cake, but when I say it is time for you to go, you must. In case I don't tell you, I paused, then you will leave by sunrise of the next mortal day. I was precise in my wording. He knew I always was. Rolling his eyes, Alvar lowered his head and stepped inside, wiping his boots on the rug. You're no fun. Here, take it. He handed me the present, and I took it gently. The thick brown paper was painted with delicate lavender sprigs. I smiled and turned the medium sized box over in my hands. It was wrapped in a white satin bow, looped and intricate, the ends dipped in gold. You were going to give it to me anyway, you jerk, I smiled up at him. Yes, well, you coming with me would have been a particularly nice gesture on your part, wouldn't it? He chuckled, stepping past me into the house. The door shut behind him, locking into place, and I followed him into the kitchen. Thank you. You didn't have to bring me a gift. Alvar seated himself at the table, crossing one leg over the other. He seemed dressed up tonight, black knee high boots with form fitting slacks tucked neatly inside. A silver dagger was strapped to his thigh, and another with an obsidian handle protruded from his boot. His shirt had billowy sleeves but no collar, the white fabric stretched across his broad chest. I dragged my eyes away, though not before he noticed. I'd been looking since I was fifteen, but I never liked it when he caught me. He teased me for days. Alvar knew I was looking, so he leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. I know I didn't have to, but I care for you, and so I did. My body, however, is free for you to peruse all you like. He licked his lips. The wares are yours. I rolled my eyes, setting the present on the table before heading to the fridge. Would you like some cake? All Fay loves sweet things. So yes. He remained silent as I cut him a generous slice of chocolate cake with thick fudge frosting. I placed it before him. Want a soda too? Then have the ones you like. Alvar sat up straighter. You know me well, wife, good job. I sighed again, grabbing his favorite strawberry fanta from the fridge. It was too much sugar if you asked me, but he loved it. When I turned around, his antlers were gone, but his eyes had shifted back. I'm going to ignore the wife comment. But why did you change? I asked, sliding the soda toward him as I took the seat opposite of him. I don't like when you stare so hard at my antlers. Besides, it's easy to maintain a glamour. His fork cut through a large portion of cake and he began to eat. Raising an eyebrow, I replied, I like looking at your antlers. I count the points. Alvar said nothing, quickly finishing his cake. Ah, humans create such pleasantries. He opened his soda, taking a long swig before letting out the loudest, most raucous burp I had ever heard. Some of your kind will live. He wanted to get a rise out of me by saying that when I didn't take the bait he grunted. What's on your mind? You That changed his tune. He began to preen like a peacock. Now? What exactly? Did I think I should say what was on my mind? It was my birthday, and I should be able to do as I pleased. Why do you keep coming here? Back to me, knowing that I'll never follow you. That soured his mood. The black overtook Alvar's eyes again. One day you will need me, Trace. You will beg for my help, for assistance, for something. You want to talk to me. You want me to whisk you away from some horrific nightmare, and I will be there. His voice turned severe. There was no joy in his eyes now. You talk of the underground and of the unsealy, I began. You talk about your hate for humans, and I am human, Alvar, why me? Why do you want me so badly? Because I saved you? Let's do this. I laid my hands flat on the table as Alvar finished his soda. I can absolve you of your promise. We'll be even. I'm fine, he answered, pushing his plate and empty can toward me. I can wait. Trust me, I have nothing but time. I don't, I countered. One day I'll be old and ugly, and you won't want me anymore. Alvar's eyes hardened. He looked me up and down, pursing his lips before speaking. He pushed his chair back and turned to face me fully. I don't think you understand, Therese, he said. I love you. Nothing will end that. My heart thudded in my chest at his declaration. Swallowing hard, I watched as he stood and moved in front of me. I don't age as you do. I will watch the seasons change around me, but my love for you will remain unwavering. The world's beauty, as enchanting as it may be, pales compared to the radiance you bring to my life. He leaned closer. I could smell the sweetness on his breath. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, filtered sunlight in the forest glen. I was entranced. Your laughter, your spirit, the way your eyes danced with curiosity. You filled a void I never knew existed in me. Among the Fe, love is eternal. It transcends the boundaries of our worlds and time itself. Kneeling, Alvar took one of my hand in his. His touch was cool and light, his fingers soft and pliable. Turning my palm upward, he traced the lines there as he continued softly. I've witnessed countless seasons pass, each whispering tales of change and transformation, but my love for you remains constant. The fe are bound by deep, unbreakable connections to the world, to his creatures, and in you I found my most cherished one. Even as the world plunges into turmoil, you are the anchor that keeps me grounded. I had felt his admiration for me. It wasn't unreturned, but I knew too well the horrors that awaited me in the underground. The unsealy were malicious, bordering on murderous towards humans. The autumn and winter courts were fickle places that humans should not tread lightly. What was I leaving behind to follow him? Everything. What was I gaining? I didn't know, and that was too great a risk. Setting my hand back in my lap, Alvar placed his palm on my knee. Time is a fickle thing, but is an ally for us. With an infinite span of years at my disposal, I will cherish every moment we have together. His black eyes locked onto mine. You may grow old, and the human mind may forget. But I will keep our memories, etching our love into the fabric of my existence. Alvar and I had never kissed before. I had hugged him, I'd played with his hands, I traced my fingers over his eyebrows and across his lips, but ours had never touched. Until now he leaned forward and kissed me. Alvar pressed his lips against mine, kissing me long and hard. His tongue brushed the seam of my lips, and I realized then that unsealy tongues were like a cat's. My body shivered, wondering well else he could use that mesmerizing muscle. When I parted my lips, Alvar dove in, twisting, taking, tasting. We kissed until I was breathless, dizzy, and overwhelmed. What happened next was inevitable. In my bedroom, Alvar turned me so my back faced his chest. His fingers traced along my neck and down my collarbone. He kissed a path from behind my ear to my shoulder. My shirt came off quickly, and he nibbled at my ear as he pressed his body against mine. His hands, strong and soft, kneaded my breast through the fabric of my bra. Let's be rid of this pesky thing, shall we? His fingers moved deftly, undoing it with practice ease. His cool touch, the mark of the winter court, traced circles around my areolas until my nipples peaked, aching from anticipation. Siding his hands down my stomach, Alvar explored my curves. You have the body of a true Aphrodite, my dear, flowing lines and curves, especially at the swell of your belly. He tapped lightly along my midline, and I knew I was beautiful I always had known, but hearing the way he adored me made it feel different. His thumbs hooked into my joggers and pulled them down, and he followed, kissing the curve of my ass before dragging his tongue down the backs of my thighs. He nipped the sensitive skin behind my knees, then soothed it with a kiss. Stepping out of my pants I felt exposed and suddenly cold. Alvar, I began, but he silenced me with the soft sh guiding me forward until my knees met the bed. What are you thinking? He responded quickly before his right hand trailed up my bottom to my lower back. Alvar bent me at the waist, his left hand shifted my legs open just enough for him to reach me. Dragging his nose from my thigh to my exposed slit, he took a deep breath and sighed heavily. You smell of the sweetest perfume. I could hear him smacking his lips. Do me a favor and hold on to the sheets, will you, my light? That was all the warning I had before Alvar's tongue invaded my body. I'd had sex before, with human men. Some were good, others lackluster, but this was entirely new. There were things Alvar could do with his tongue that no one else could. It stretched, flicked, and pressed into places I hadn't known existed. The rough papillae dragged across sensitive spots and I moaned into the sheets, my hands twisting them until I was sure I'd have to remake the bed. When his tongue slipped from me he trailed lower, licking his way to my ass, circling my rosette. I gasped, shivering at the sensation. Slowly, he moved back, flicking his tongue against my clit until I saw stars, my body tightening with the need to release. It wasn't until he pressed himself fully into me again, tongue relentless that I held my breath and came. I don't remember when Alvar undressed. All I knew was that he was suddenly there, lining himself up with me, and I learned quickly that his body held more secrets. The head of his cock was thick, forcing its way inside of me with a burning stretch that made me gasp. I breathed deeply as Alvar leaned over me, bracing himself on either side of my head. Breathe, Therese. You can't take me if you don't relax. He pressed forward, and I felt the first ridge slide into me. I moaned, my head falling back. Good girl. One hand wrapped around my throat while the other settled on my hip as he continued to push forward. There were four ridges along his length. I realized, and as each one slipped inside of me my body trembled with the need to come again. Fully seated, Alvar placed one hand on my lower back, forcing the arch he wanted. The other tangled in my hair as he pulled out to the tip before slamming back in. My eyes rolled back and my teeth clattered from the force. I groaned, trying to brace myself, but he wouldn't let me drop my head. Head up, look at yourself, he said harshly in my ear. Across from the bed stood a full length mirror. Mouth open, I watched as Alvar's black eyes met mine in the reflection, his grip tightened my hair. He moved slowly now, deliberately, until I squeezed my eyes shut, desperate to hold on to the feeling just a little longer. I couldn't, and he knew it. The sharp slap of his hand against me made me clinch, coating him as I came again. Again, he chuckled, pulling out halfway. He shifted me easily, turning me to face him without breaking contact. Gripping my face, Alvar kissed me again. He slid back inside, pausing at each ridge, teasing before pushing deeper each time. My body shook uncontrollably. My hands grasped his forearms, holding on as my legs wrapped tightly around him. He drove into me relentlessly, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge. I had never felt anything like this before, and I doubted I ever would again. He shifted his hips in slow circles, hitting every sensitive place inside me until I felt my orgasm building low in my core. I was exhausted, but not too exhausted to come again. Pressing his chest to mine, Alvar sucked at the skin of my neck hard enough to leave a mark. I didn't care. My legs tightened around him, my fingers buried in his hair. All I could think about was wanting him as deep inside me as possible when he finished. I needed to feel it, to know it. I didn't have to wait long. Oh Tris, you feel too damn good. His voice broke as his movements became erratic. Harder, I have to have you. My arms wrapped around his neck as I reached my limit, my body tightening around him as we both fell over the edge. Alvar stared at the ceiling as we lay in bed. His voice quiet. I need you to come with me. I scoffed. The sex was good, but I wasn't stupid. Alvar, please, not again. My father is dead, he said suddenly. I killed him. Now my brother and I are vying for the throne. He was terrible at pillow talk. Sitting up I leaned against a headboard and stared at him. I'm sorry, what? Alvar reached for my hand. He was a bastard anyway. I will be king, but I need a queen. I need you. No. Pulling my hand away I reached for the lamp. You killed your father and what Alvar what? My mind spun, struggling to catch up with what Eve was saying. Turning on his side he smiled again. He wanted to divide the kingdoms, an alliance with the Spring Court. We're at war with them. And my father wanted to slaughter them. He shrugged. Fey are not so easily killed, and despite what you may think, I am not so inclined to violence. Isn't your brother part of the Spring Court through his mother? I asked, avoiding the rest. He's an idiot, Alvar sighed. They find him incapable, and he doesn't have a bond with a human like I do. Blinking I shook my head. Meaning the Spring Court is full of half human chainlings. Oberon's bastards. He lay back again. I am mated to you. You are mine. They see me favorably. Oberon wants peace. He would see me on the throne. My brother dead. Your brother is his grandson, I nearly shouted. A war your mate Alvar I got out of bed, grabbing my clothes. I'm about to rescind your invitation to my home. His eyes widened as he sat up. I'm serious. I need you to come with me. And you won't? Are you insane? I snapped. You said there's a war. The only reason you came here was to use me as a pawn so you could take the throne? The realization stung. I told you I would never go. You will. His antlers reappeared, his glamour slipping as his temper rose. I'll make sure of it. You'll be a fantastic queen, Tris. Sit on the throne, serve me, love me as I know you do, and I'll move heaven and earth at your command. I stared at him. No Trece. I would like for you to leave now, Alvar. He snorted and remained where he was until the shift began. Revoking his access forced him out, and he groaned as the magic took hold. Just go, please. As he stood, his clothes reformed around him. Alvar moved to the window. You don't understand, Therese. You have to come with me. I could show you joy, sorrow, everything. Now I barked. Alvar rolled his eyes and climbed out the window. Slamming it shut I stood there trying to process what he'd said. He'd murdered his father. His brother was now his enemy, and he wanted to use me to secure a throne I still couldn't believe he killed for. Walking downstairs, I picked up the box slowly. I'd never opened it. Back in my room I placed it on the highest shelf in my closet. I would never go to the underground. Those Faye could figure their own shit out. Pacing outside of her home will do me no good. I'll wear a rut into her yard before she comes out to see me. My hands still smell like her, my body carries her scent, and I growl in frustration as Orion approaches me. Your Majesty? The shadow purrs. Oh he sniffs the air around me and opens his eyes wider. Well, that's done, Orion chuckles. How was it? I snort, cutting my eyes at my right hand. Do not ask about the sexual antics of your queen. Orion crosses his arms over his chest, and I stop pacing to sigh solemnly. She's echoing. Everything I could ask for, and I do not want to leave this yard until she comes outside and follows me. Orion stops laughing and claps a hand on my shoulder. You've been in love with her since the day you laid eyes on her. She has not loved me, I admit freely, though it pains me to say it out loud. This is discrimination. Her grandfather filled her head with all sorts of horrid lies about the unsealy. Now she refuses to see me as the perfect partner for her. What lies? Orion pulls a dagger from his shadow cloaked boot. Some of the old stories are true. Hell, ninety percent of them are true. He cleans beneath his nails. She'll learn to love it. And if she doesn't? I ask. Orion shrugs. Then we let the Bargards chase her into your arms. He laughs, but I don't. The winter court is on the brink of war. Lucian will not go down without a fight, and here I am with a means to declare victory without shedding blood, and she won't let me. Whatever shall I do, Orion? Kidnap her, he suggests. It sounds perfect in the moment, but I would rather not spend the next century with a queen who reminds me daily that I stole her from her home. I cluck my tongue. My last resort allow someone else to kidnap her. Now that has potential. If someone else snatches her delicious bottom, then I can swoop in and rescue her and voila home we go. But I don't think she'll be that easy. She hasn't been so far. Let's go home. I take a deep breath and glance back at Theresa's house. She hasn't even looked out the window to see if I'm still here. She must be very angry with me. Send a doula hun to watch over her. Of course, my lord, Orion replies. It's been weeks since I've seen Alvar, and one half of me is excited about that. I lied, it's content with it. I don't know if he whispered some spell over me, but I dream about the way he licked, touched, and fucked me nearly every night. I haven't opened the box in my closet. He doesn't darken my doorway or my window. I think I'm beginning to miss him. One evening I was on my way home before remembering I needed to stop at the store. I was about to curse when I noticed a small mom and pop shop near my workplace and pulled into the lot. I'd never seen this place before, but thank heaven for small miracles. I could shop and go home with no worries. Parking in front of the small grocery store, the smell of honey and fresh bread drifted through the air. It was pleasant, and my mouth watered a little as I opened the door to a blast of warm air. Hello, an elderly woman called from behind the tall counter. Looking for something in particular? The way she said particular carried an accent I couldn't quite place. Her skin was withered, lined with deep wrinkles that made me wonder how old she really was. She didn't sound that elderly, though. I met her hazel eyes. Bread, toilet paper, milk, and peanut butter, I rattled off. Aisles two, four, and seven, she answered, returning to a card game she was playing. English? I wondered, still trying to place her accent. Nodding, I made my way through the brightly lit aisles. I kept breathing in the scent of fresh bread wondering if they baked it here. Grabbing two loaves, I picked up peanut butter from a nearby shelf. I moved quickly through the rest and approached the counter. The old woman smiled sweetly. Find everything? Yes, thank you. She rang up my purchases slowly. Is someone baking bread here? I asked. We are, she chuckled. Hard to resist that smell, hm? It was. My stomach growled in agreement. Is it for sale? The old woman smiled again. Her mouth seemed too wide, stretching almost from ear to ear. Her eyes gleamed strangely in the fluorescent light, and unease crept over me before she laughed. Oh yes, we've got a fresh batch, but this bread is special. Special, I echoed, suddenly unsure. Bread is code for something else? Drugs? I uh twelve seventy three, she announced as the register chimed. I pulled a twenty for my purse. How much for the bread? For you? She took the bill, counting out my change. seven hundred twenty seven, and placed it in my hand. Free. You're such a polite young woman, most rush in and out or rude as can be. Oh, I blinked, dropping the change into my purse. I can pay, it's fine. She shook her head, and I noticed strands of blonde curls peeking from beneath her bright headscarf. Barnaby, bring this lovely young woman some fairy bread, eh? Fairy bread? My eyes widened as the boy, no older than fifteen, pushed open a door I hadn't noticed behind her. The scent of fresh bread, clothes, thyme, honey, and vanilla flooded the space, making my stomach gurgle. Yeah, he sniffs. It's pretty, ain't it? The bread was cut into thick slices laid out on the platter, honey drifted toward me. Are those sprinkles? I asked, pointing at the colorful bits. Yeah, fairy bread. It's an Aussie thing, he said with a grin. Ah, that was the accent. Go on, he urged. Do as granny says, have a slice. Reaching forward I touched the edge of the bread. I'd never turned down a snack, especially a sweet one. My sweet tooth ruled me. Licking my lips I took a bite. Sweetness burst across my tongue, fresh bed, honey, something deeper. Oh wow. I wouldn't have thought to combine these, damn, it was good. I took another bite. Behind the counter the old woman began to giggle. Eat it all, dear. Our prince will be so happy. That's when I felt it. The room tilted, or maybe I did. My face went numb. Grandma didn't look so sweet anymore, she was something else, wings, long and metallic, clawed hands scraping the counter, her voice slurred, or maybe my hearing did as my legs gave out beneath me. Don't let her hit the floor, idiot, grab her. Spittle flew from her mouth as the tray clattered to the ground. A pale, black eyed creature caught me in his arms. He was short but stocky, wings like a dragonfly sprouting from his back. I'm sorry, miss, he said, blinking, his eyelids closing vertically. Prince Lucian said we had to bring you ow The old woman hurled a boot at his head. The store peeled away around me, an illusion, rotting wood, sagging beams. I tried to grab onto something, but my arms hung useless. The creature adjusted me in his arms, my face pressed into his neck as we lifted off the ground. Don't worry, miss, we're taking you to the underground. Prince Lucian wants to see you. He's got a deal to make. He won't hurt you. His voice trembled slightly as his grip tightened. You don't know that, the old woman screeched, her voice trailing behind us. He may want to eat her. She looks tasty. The boy surged forward, wings buzzing. The night air bit at my skin cold and sharp. Stay back, Bug, he shouted. There's a reason the prince tusted a changeling over your kind. She grumbled, fading behind us. Tears slipped down my cheeks as darkness crept in. Lucian, Alvar's brother. There war had found me. How do I warn Alvar? How does he find me? Could he even see me? Blackness pressed at the edges of my vision. I fought it, trying to move anything, but all I managed was the weak shift in his arms. Careful, Miss, you're drug good with that honey. Sleep it off. We'll be in the underground when you wake. The tears on my cheeks felt cold, cracking like ice in the wind. My vision doubled, my head throbbed, and then everything went dark. I don't think she's coming home tonight, Orion sighs. Where else could she be? I don't know, and the very thought pisses me off. Growling, I exhale heavily and tap my booted foot against her porch. Her vehicle isn't here. The lights are off, and her scent is old. Where could she be? Orion sits beside me on the porch and I drop my head into my hands. Where the fuck is this woman? The forest again, near my papop's house. From when I was a child. There's whimpering and crying. Alvar My willow wand isn't in my hand, but if he can see that it's me. Rushing through the trees, I push the branches aside, stumbling into the clearing. Nothing. No one. The iron bear trap lies there rusted and breaking down into the tall grass. Alvar? I call out. Alvar nothing. I want to cry. I've been drugged. Am I stuck in this dreamlike state? Tears stream down my cheeks, and I think about the one thing I swore I would never do. I'd never call him. I'd never ask for his help. I'd never join him in the underground. But what choice do I have now? I've been taken, kidnapped, forced here against my will. My chest heaves, and the whale I've been holding back finally breaks free. I'm scared. I'm terrified to meet Prince Lucian and find out what he wants from me. What have I done? Why am I the bargaining chip? For nature's sake, Trace Alvar comes crashing through the trees. Relief hits me like an avalanche. I run into his arm, burying my face in his chest. Where are you? Where am I? In your dreams, stupid woman. He lifts my chin. You're not at home. Tell me where you fell asleep now. His hands grip my shoulders, shaking me. I I went to a store. I sob, sniffling. It wasn't a store. Unsealy Fay, they work with your brother, Lucy, and they tricked me. And I'm so stupid, I let my guard down. I'm smarter than this. Alvar growls low and primal. If he sent a high ranking Fay, you wouldn't know. I was a child when we met. It would have been easy to see through me and you knew what to look for. He pulls me against him. I know where you are. Don't eat anything else. Wait for me. He starts to back away and I grab his shirt. What? No. I don't know what I'll see when I wake up. Alvar closes his black eyes. I'm sorry, I'll he shakes his head. Listen to me. We don't have time. Do not eat or drink anything. Trust no one, especially any Fay that resembles a bug. He pauses thinking. Black dogs. He snaps his fingers. Only trust the black dog. Do you understand me? His form begins to fade. I reach out for him gasping at empty air. Don't you dare leave me. I'm coming, remember what I said. I jolt awake. Sitting up in a bed covered in white satin sheets, I clutch my chest. I'm naked or close to it. A thin gossamer like gown clings to my body, falling to my ankles. The sleeves billow to my elbows and the plunging neckline dips between my breasts. I pull the sheets up extinctively. The bed is large and circular. A fire roars in a Victorian gothic fireplace, casting red light across the room. Everything is richly furnished. I stay silent, taking it all in when the door creaks open. A head peeks inside. Oh, you're awake, good. The same changeling boy from before. I narrow my eyes at him as I throw the covers back and try to stand only to collapse forward, the breath knocked from my lungs. Damn it. Oh, your Highness. He rushes over, setting a tray aside to help me up. You'll be a bit groggy for a while. His Aussie accent is thicker now. He guides me back into bed, pulling the covers over me before retrieving the tray. His iridescent wings lie flat against his back. You can call me Noah. I'm here to serve you. He looks younger now. Smaller. Are you Australian? Yeah, he grins. Good ear. Didn't think my accent was still that strong. He pulls up a stool and sits beside the bed. His knees poke out from his linen shorts. He's barefoot, shirtless. You're a changeling? I ask carefully, remembering Alvar's warning. Noah nods. Mum's Fay, Dad was human. She had me here, so here I stay. He points to his face, solid black irises, long pointed ears. Can't mingle with those born in the mortal world. I nod slowly, clearing my throat. I'm starving, but I can't eat. The tray is filled with unfamiliar food, all of it looking delicious. I don't think I can eat, Noah. Sure you can. He breaks off a piece of bread and eats it. See? No poison. He laughs. That what you're worried about? No, I shake my head. I can't tell him what I know, he seems kind. How old are you, Noah? He scrunches his face, tapping his nose as he thinks. Dunno, maybe twelve? In human years? Twelve a child. Why does Lucian want me? Noah's eyes dart around. Prince Lucian wishes to marry you. He doesn't think Prince Alvar is deserving of you. I've heard different. Licking my lips I look towards Noah, still staring at my food. Are you hungry? His stomach answers before him, and the apples of Noah's cheeks turn pink. Oh no, not at all. Please eat. I'll get in trouble if you don't. He whispers, looking around the room briefly. Lifting the tray, I hand it towards Noah and jet my chin. Please eat. I'm not hungry. Noah licks his lips. He seems unsure, but then his hands, with his unnaturally long fingers, reached out and slowly took the tray from me. Thank you, my lady. I'm Therese. Just call me that. I smile and watch as he begins to stuff his face. I feel sad and angry watching him. Is he twelve and starving like this? It occurs to me that he might be small because he's hungry. When was the last time he'd eaten? Where's Lucian? Throne room. Noah smacks his food and stuffs the rest of the bread into his mouth. He's waiting for you to eat to be brought to him. Clinching my jaw I wonder when Alvar is going to show up. He better be quick about it. There's no telling what this Lucian fellow might try to do. I haven't seen a black dog yet, but half of me wonders if I can trust Noah. Will you be with me, Noah? The changeling finishes his food and burps loudly before guzzling the liquid in the cup. He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm and sighs. What do you mean? When will you go to the throne room? Yes, I'm supposed to follow you and help you out. That answers that question. Standing up I sigh heavily and hold my hand out. Take me to Lucian. That dirty, conniving, tacky bastard, I growl, quickly strapping a few weapons to my side and boot. Orion leans against a door frame. You forgot ugly, he chuckles. Shall I rouse the soldiers? I fix him with a hard stare. That idiot might do something stupid, and I swear to nature if he touches a hair on her head, Orion holds up his hands. You know I'm all for a round of fisticuffs and a descent into the madness of war. You're so poetic. I roll my eyes, but I'm worried. I didn't want Trist to see the darker side of who I am, what the unsealy truly are. I've told her she knows of it, but to witness it, to see the chaos and insanity of my people with her own eyes. As I step from the bedroom, Orion places a hand on my shoulder. What are you worried about? Rushing into your brother's kingdom just the two of us, all harebrained to rescue your lady love? He doesn't give me a chance to answer before continuing. Where we could possibly die and traumatize her, then she'd be forced to bear your brother's children? Sometimes I turn toward Orion, pointing a dagger at him. I hate you. I love you too, the shadow chuckles. Let's be off then. Trees the low timber voice calls to me as Noah leads me into a winter wonderland disguised as a throne room. Seeing the beauty my brother finally calls his queen is nice. I ignore that last bit and stare at the man, Fay, in front of me. Lucian is about the same height as Alvar, except his hair is stark black. He has white eyes, compared to Alvar's black ones and sports horns, not antlers. There's also an imposing set of wings on his back. Why does everyone have dragonfly like wings here? There is no one else in the throne room, at least none that I can see. A single throne sits on a dais of ice surrounded by stalagmites of marble and quartz. Looks dangerous. The ice columns begin at the Dais and stretch down the center of the room toward the door. It is between these columns that I walked and now stand. The black carpet beneath my feet is the only thing keeping them from freezing. Noah gave me a fur cloak before we left, and I wrap it tightly around my shoulders. I'm clutching it closer now. I want to go home, please. Home? Lucian tilts his delicate face from side to side. Where Alvar has solid features and a jawline that could cut glass, Lucian's face is softer, almost feminine. I'll admit both men are attractive, but I prefer Alvar's white hair. Why do you want to go home? Is he joking? Are you being willfully obtuse or is this a game? I ask. Because either way I'm not in the mood and you're pissing me off. I notice Noah still bowing behind me. Noah stand. He doesn't move, but he looks up at me. I cannot, my lady. Scoffing, I turn to Lucian. Tell him he can stand. Why? The pretentious bastard. Because he is a child. Where's your problem? Daddy didn't love you enough, so you have to make everyone grovel. I grab Noah's arm and pull him upright. He's with me. Remember that. Lucian smirks and inclines his head. Noah visibly relaxes. You are fond of this changeling? I am, I say without blinking, and Lucian raises his hands. What emerges from behind the pillars can only be described as ice giants, except these have rows of creamy, pointed teeth like daggers. I push Noah behind me. As they come closer I realize the teeth are made of bone, fixed into their mouths like dentures. I can only imagine where they came from. Back the fuck up, I shout, but they don't stop. Noah screams behind me. Save me, my lady, please. His long fingers dip into my skin. Stop it. I move him further behind me and start toward the throne. Lucian, stop this. You want me happy, right? He chuckles. Perhaps. I can tolerate your anger. I can't turn my back on the creatures. What do you want? Lucian says nothing. Just as I prepare to shield Noah with my body, he's ripped from my arms. An imp with impossibly blue skin hoists him up in the air by one ankle. Noah screams, trying to fly, but another imp grabs his wings, pinning them. You, Lucian finally answers. I'd like you, Therese. I like Noah. I do. But how much? I'm not going to marry you. I turn to face Lucian, who is now far too close. I told Alvar I wouldn't go with him. You forced me here. What makes you think I marry you? To save that one? Lucian points upwards. Another imp joins in tormenting Noah, pulling his limbs and wings. You're fond of the boy. It's unwise to grow attached here. Might is right in the unsealy kingdom. How long do you think my brother will hold the throne? Noah's screams cut through me. The imps have lion like faces with goat eyes. Their limbs are wrong, stitched together, hooves replaced with human hands. If he doesn't kill me, I will kill him, Lucian continues. His breath smells of spearmint and rosemary. Think about it, Therese. He snaps his fingers, the giants retreat. The imps drag Noah's bruised body across the carpet, dumping him near Lucian. You care for Alvar, Lucian says softly, and I will slit his throat and spill his silver blood across your marriage bed. He smiles, fangs protruding over his lips. I hope you never have children with him, he chuckles. Like a lion I will destroy your young. Do you think I'm above smashing your infants against rocks? Throwing your toddlers into fire? The images fill my mind and I step back. Back, you're a fucking psycho. We're all a little mad here, darling, he murmurs. Isn't that what the author wrote? He laughs low. The best part I'll drag you home screaming, because every king must have a queen. His tongue flicks across his lips. I'll take your body whether you want me to or not. Again and again. Every night until you bear my seed. From your womb, I will build a new kingdom. Lucian steps closer. My chest heaves, tears threaten to fall. Where is my will o wan now? Fuck you, I spit. I kill myself first. His hand moves like lightning, cold fingers wrap around my throat lifting me off the ground. My toes barely touch the carpet, my hands clawing at his forearm as panic seizes me. I like to see you try, he croons, pulling me closer until our noses touch. This is my domain. My underground. I hold the power here. He loosens his grip just enough for me to gasp. It burns going down. He lowers me but my legs shake violently. I will bring you back from the brink a thousand times, he whispers. Just to hear you scream again. He releases me. I collapse to the floor, clutching my throat, choking back a sob. Please I croak. Let Noah go. Lucian crouches in front of me. What if I killed him? His tone is thoughtful. What if I smashed his body against the rocks? He grins. Maybe I'll skewer him. Noah shrieks as the imp lifts him again, pressing his back against a jagged stalagmite. It would amuse me, Lucian says softly, and I'd watch the hope die in your eyes. He grips my chin. Make you ripe for me. Maybe I'll take you right here on the floor. I don't know what came over me. I can't say what I was thinking. All I know is that I went numb, and that numbness spread down to the soles of my feet until it was replaced with rage. I balled my fists and uppercut that bitch right in his jaw so hard he fell back on his ass. I don't think anyone else realized what was happening either. Scrambling on top of Lucian, I kept hitting him, face, chest, until silver blood stained my fist. The next thing I knew, someone had grabbed me around the waist and we were flying through the air. What are you fucking waiting for? Lucian spat, scrambling to his feet. After them. Noah was breathing hard, barreling out of the throne room past centaurs and some other creatures with mushrooms growing from his head. A Kelpie snorted and whinnied, and the next thing I knew we were crashing into a snow covered forest. We hit the ground hard. Noah groaned. Hurry, we have to run. He limped toward me, grabbing my arm. Please, hurry. The sound of a Kelpie's hooves echoed through the trees, and panic stabbed through my chest. Scrambling to my feet, I nearly slipped on the ice. My bare feet burned against the frozen ground. I'm trying, I winced, clutching my side. I knew it was bruised. Noah pulled me along, and we ran into the forest, the pounding hooves close behind us. We weaved between trees, breathless, terrified. The unsealy forest was a nightmare. Ancient twisting trees loomed overhead like watching sentinels. Shadows danced across the snow and ice and eerie whispers filled the air, echoes of unseen laughter. It felt alive, wrong, as if darkness seeped from the ground itself. Branches clawed at my gown and cloak as we ran. I felt afraid as I had when I was a child. A branch whipped across my face and the blood dried instantly on my cheek. Noah's hand gripped mine tightly, his eyes wild with fear. The sound of a kelpie came from my left too close. It lunged, teeth snapping near my cloak trying to grab me. Another circled from the right. They were hurting us, forcing us back. Don't let them touch you, Noah cried. They're sticky, they'll bind you and drag us back to Lucian. Bioluminescent fungi glowed faintly through the frost, casting eerie light across the forest. Thorn vines reached like grasping hands, and even the snow beneath our feet seemed to shift uneasily. The Kelpie lunged again. I grabbed Noah, lifting him just in time as we ducked behind a massive oak. The creature slammed into the trunk with a sickening crack bones snapping as it screamed. Noah slipped from my arms and stumbled forward. My legs were failing. I couldn't keep going. We kept running, but the forest twisted endlessly around us, every path seemed to lead deeper into the darkness. It felt like there was no escape, like the forest itself wanted us loss. Then water. The sound broke through the chaos. Noah gasped. We can't go in. It'll take us. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees near the bank. I sucked in air, choking on it. I can't go any further. We have to I knew what I had to do. I had to call him. What was that bastard waiting for? Did he see me? Hear me? Was he waiting for me to beg for me to actually call his name so he could save me? Tears burned in my eyes. Noah stepped in front of me, pulling a small dagger from his belt. Move, changeling, the Kelpie's voice rang out, light, almost feminine. I would drown you and take the lady. My prince will be obeyed. Not another step, water horse. Noah's hand reached back resting on my shoulder. I never served your prince, and I would die to keep my lady safe. The Kelpie stepped closer, its body draped in sea moss, its black liquid eyes gleaming with intelligence. Snow fell softly around us as it advanced, its presence wrong in this frozen place. I knew what would happen. It would take Noah first, then me. Swallowing hard, I opened my mouth. I had to call him. I swore I wouldn't, but I had no choice. Where are you? You unsealy bastard. Please I'll a shadow moved. It slipped past us, too fast to follow, gliding along the ground before rising. Warm, solid. The shape of a man formed from darkness itself. A blade slid from his arm into his hand, real, gleaming. His body flickered between solid and shadow. He turned his head toward me, sharp teeth flashing in something like a grin. Then he faced the Kelpie. Orion The horse spirit shrieked, rearing back to strike. The shadow, Orion, is too fast. His sword connects with a front hoof, slicing it clean off the Kelpie who goes down hard. The dark horse's eyes go wide with panic and pain. It attempts to stumble away, but slowly the man takes a human form. Grey slacks tucked into dark boots become tangible as a long lithed body wearing a navy shirt appears. The Kelpie's leg begins to grow back, but now it struggles on three legs and attempts to make for the river. Not so fast, Orion chuckles, driving his sword into the horse's spine, ripping along its side until water spills. The smell of the sea follows. Let's play. He toys with the Kelpie, allowing it to get close to the river before driving it back, stabbing, slicing, cutting. The creature yells in pain, cries for mercy, and begs for its life in vain. When four severate legs are on the ground, and the snow is melted from the amount of water stolen from the Kelpie is when the shadow, Orion, places its booted foot on its neck. Please, the Kelpie murmurs, brine leaking from its maw. Let me free. Lucium forced us. Did he now? I know that voice. Alvar jumps clean over the river and lands next to me. Taking off a cloak made of red fox, he drapes it over my shoulders and turns his attention to the Kelpie. I was under the impression that the sea kelpies join Lucium by admission. The Kelpie snorts and kicks its near non existent legs. Forgive me, Prince Alvar. I forgiven, Orion answers, separating the Kelpie's head from its body. I scream as fish, kelp, stones, and water pour forth. Alvar chuckles, kicking its head. Well deserved. Alvar, I've never been so glad to see him. I stand up quickly as he turns to regard me. I didn't think you come. I was he rushes me, taking my breath away when his lips find mine and we kiss in a sweet embrace. Never think that, he says in between, shoving his tongue into my mouth. His hands roam my body under the cloak, and when we stop, Orion clears his throat. I'm sorry. Don't be. Alvar breathes. He cups my chin. Are you all right? Barely, I answer, looking back. Noah is kneeling behind me. This is Noah. He saved me. Orion's physical body melts away and he returns to the shadow form. Pup Pup I raise my eyebrows. Noah's a changeling. Is he now? Alvar chuckles. Standing up, Noah hangs his head. My apologies for the deception, my lady. The skin of the changeling melts away, falling onto the ground. It sounds slick and wet until a large black dog with red eyes steps from the body. I needed a form to keep you safe. This one would do. My mouth hangs open. How? Noah whines. I heard of the plot to steal you too late to warn my master. I killed the changeling and took its skin to wear. When you were sleeping, I told my master, but he was on his way here. I meant to devise a plan to get you out of the palace, but you proved yourself a warrior in your own right. Did she now? Alvar chuckles. Well, always pictured you to be feisty and an arrow launches into Alvar's shoulder. Well, here he comes. Orion chuckles as Lucian stalks closer. This could be an easy kill. Would it now, Shadow? Lucian draws his sword and holds it towards Alvar. Did your pretty woman tell you what I would do to her, Alvar? When I finished with you Alvar pulls the arrow from his shoulder with a grunt. No, but I can only imagine it was depraved and nasty. Drops of his blood hit the ground. Then again, I plan on fucking her on top of your corpse, so you know. Lucian scoffs, raising his hand, a myriad of flay emerge from the forest around him. Redcaps, Boggart's trolls, Kelpie's flank behind him, and Lucian smirks. Let this be finished, brother. I'll call a truce. Give me your woman, I take the throne, and you are banished to the mortal realm. Melting into the ground, Orion appears behind me and slowly pulls me back toward him. I have something for you. He slips my birthday present from Alvar into my hands, open it, and keep it near you. He moves in front of me once more, discreetly. Lucian is an utter pain in my ass, but he knows that. I can see the marks, cuts, and bruises on my woman, and he will pay for those. Still, I smile and hold out my arms. Lucian bought an army, and here I am with my right hand, how fair. Might is right, Akelpie Winnies. Back down, second son. First is the worst, second is the best, I reply, quoting the mortal children's rhyme. I have a plan, but will Lucian allow me to see it through? Gritting his teeth, my brother raises his hand and his entourage falls back. Then let us settle this the old way. A duel. Archaic, but acceptable. He's playing right into what I want. I have three options, and this was number two. I nod, drawing my sword as I step forward. Loser dies, winner keeps the woman and the kingdom. Sounds good. He tosses his Ermine cloak and advances. I add one more condition. Everyone on your side dies. A few trolls laugh. The old way. That quiets them. Lucian raises his sword. I open my stance, blade ready. Let us begin. Lucian smiles. We surge forward, our swords clasped, the sound ringing through the forest. My focus sharpens, cold, precise. Lucian doesn't have half of my skill. I feel his arm waver beneath the pressure. His technique is sloppy, mine deliberate. Every strike calculated, every parry effortless. He's formidable, yes. No one else would last this long, but he's struggling. Sweat beads along his brow as he fights to keep up. My blade slices across his cheek, leaving a gash that bleeds freely. Lucian stumbles back, touching the wound with a growl. The onlookers watch in tense silence, every clash echoing through them. I'm toying with him. I need him to follow the path I've set. I need him angry, reckless, predictable. With a sharp movement I disarm him, his sword flies from his hands. Gas ripple through the crowd. I flick my wrist and step back. Pick it up. Lucian snarls but obeys. Good. Now it begins. He charges wild, furious, slamming his blade into mine, forcing me back. I let him. I give ground. I let my stance falter, let him think I'm slipping. I even drop to one knee before scrambling back up again. Then it happens. Or rather, I allow it to happen. Lucien lunges, I counter, then hesitate, he pulls back and strikes again, and this time I take it. Or I make it look like I do. His blade drives forward, I give him the illusion, the resistance, the entry, the feeling of steel sinking into flesh. Lucian believes it. Trace calls out behind him, sharp, raw, full of panic. Forgive me, my love. I drop to my knees, coughing, groaning as if the wound is real. Lucian yanks his sword flee and silver blood coats the blade, not mine, but he doesn't know that yet. He roars in triumph, and just as I knew she would, Therese moves. She tears free from Orion's grasp, no, he lets her, and charges forward, straight for Lucian. He was winning. My heart soared in relief as he teased and taunted Lucian. Then disaster struck. The blade pierced his stomach and Alvar's eyes went wide. He fell to his knees and I couldn't think. I just acted. He gave me an iron blade. For my birthday, Alvar gave me an iron blade. A memory rushed into my mind. Iron kills, Fay. Popop's voice echoed as he stirred the collards. Keep a peace on you, always. Lucian grabbed me by the waist and hauled me so my back was against his chest. He laughed into my ear, long and cruel, dragging his tongue up my neck. Look at him. He pointed his bloodied sword at Alvar. Is this your man? He laughed again. Watch me sever his head pretty. I'll make you kiss it while I take you from behind. I couldn't take it anymore. Gripping the blade in both hands, I swung back as hard and fast as I could. The iron lodged in Lucian's forehead. He screamed and threw me to the ground. The fee around us erupted into chaos, shrieking as they fled into the forest, crying out about the human, the witch, the iron in the underground. Lucian howled, writhing in pain. I scrambled to Alvar, who still knelt on the ground. Alvar? He collapsed to one side and I caught him, pulling his body into my arms. Please oh love, he sighed. I'm sorry. Tears streamed down my face as I held him. I loved him. I was terrified of this place, of everything in it, and I knew I could never fully trust a fe. But I loved him. The heart defies reason. In this treacherous world where danger lurked in every shadow, my love for Alvar was both my greatest strength and my deepest vulnerability. I had never wanted to admit it, but it was there. A love that existed beyond logic, beyond safety, beyond sense. Sorry for what? My fingers brushed his cheek. Don't be sorry, I my voice broke. I love you. You do? He rasped. You would have married me then. I choked out a laugh. Really? Now I need to hear it, Trace. His hand trembled as he reached for my face. Would you have married me? I stared at him, disbelief flashing through me. Yes. Orion laughed behind me and my head snapped toward him. What the fuck are you laughing at? My apologies, mistress, he replied smoothly. Well, Alvar sighed. What's said is said. He reached beneath his shirt and pulled out a sack, organs wrapped in cloth, the fabric tore and blood and viscera spilled onto the white snow with a sickening stench. I knew you loved me. Realization slammed into me. You fucking I lunched for him, but he rolled away and stood. You Alvar I it was touching, he said, mockingly wiping tears from his eyes. I love you too. I stood there, shocked, furious, humiliated, as he walked to his brother and yanked the iron blade from Lucian's forehead. He tossed it aside quickly, shaking his hand where it burned him. Lucian wasn't dead. He gasped, choking. Alvar hauled him up, forcing him onto his knees. I think I'll kill you for real this time. I didn't know what I expected. There was no spray of blood like in the movies, no struggle. Lucian screamed as Alvar's blade sliced clean through his neck, and he kept screaming for exactly thirty two seconds before the forest fell silent. His head rolled to the base of an elm tree, his eyes moved, tracking, seeing, his mouth opened and closed, but no sound came. He stared and stared, until the light behind his eyes went out. The head lay still. I wondered if he could still hear, still think, if his mind replayed his death, or if it simply stopped, like a switch flipped off. I pushed myself to my feet, fighting the urge to vomit. Why the fuck would you do that? I wiped my shaking hands against my legs. I'll kill you. I'll I stormed toward him, but Alvar dropped his sword and caught my face in his hands, kissing me hard. Stop that I shoved at him, breath ragged. My eyes flicked back to Lucian's body. Take me home now. Oh Trise. Alvar smiled, his breath cool against my skin, scented with honey and peppermint. I let you leave the forest. You saved my life. A life for a life. Didn't you know? Cold dread flooded me. If you call on me, you belong to me. My mouth went dry. I I didn't, I protested, backing away. You came before I Alvar, no. Your body. His grip tightened. Your mind. He pressed his forehead to mine. What's done is done. It took all this, but I promise you'll like it here. I felt it then, the bond, pulling at the base of my skull, tightening, claiming. My grandfather's voice echoed in my mind. Never trust a fe. They'll sound sweet, kind, but they'll twist everything to get what they want. The pull intensified, stealing my breath. You belong to me, Alvar murmured, as I belong to you. My body went slack in his arms. He kissed down my throat and my skin responded despite everything, heat, want, confusion twisting together. I couldn't resist him. Did I ever want to? Maybe I had been doomed from the beginning, caught in something far bigger than myself. Every choice, every step pulling me here. Or maybe this was something else entirely a fate I could still shape. Or a lie I was telling myself to survive it. Don't worry, my love, Alvar murmured, brushing his lips against mine. We will have each other, he smiled. Even as the world falls. I hope you enjoyed As the World Falls Down. Next, we continue the descent with our final story, story number six. Take me back to Eden. Until next time, sleep carefully.