My hand dropped to the scabbard on my hip, searching for my sword. It was still there, the familiar weight of it pressed into me, but my gaze dropped to the strap at my ankle and the distinct absence of the dagger I kept there.
“Fucking Gods,” I cursed, storming to the edge of the mountain. I looked over the ledge, searching the steep path for any sign of Fallon’s footprints. The dust had not moved, and I reached up a tentative hand to weigh the boundary between courts, to test it in the way that I’d seen Rheaghan do so many times. My eyes drifted closed as I let the magic of it sink into me, a vibration running down the boundary like a spider’s net, searching for prey in the form of my errant betrothed, who couldn’t seem to stay where I put her.
Something recoiled not far down the line, and I turned to my right to peer through the Autumn Court trees there. My feet followed, guiding me to where Fallon waited in the shade as if she wanted to avoid the sun on her skin, and with how pale she was, that might have been a wise choice.
She stood at the edge, running her fingers over the boundary and staring at her hands in surprise.
She could feel it.
The boundary that existed between the Unseelie and Seelie Courts was an invisible wall from a bygone era. Only those with a predisposition to either throne could feel it, could know when someone passed through. It served as an alarm to protect against those who did not belong, protecting us when we’d fought in wars that seemed so foolish now as we looked back in hindsight.
I ran my hand over the boundary as I approached, letting the vibrations of my touch ripple down the surface. She turned to me as she felt it, and a smug smile stole over my face.
If I’d had any doubts as to whether I’d made the right choice, the boundary washed them away with a single moment.
It recognized her.
She looked different in the light, brighter somehow, as if she was always meant to be outside the darkness. She was beautiful in the dark, but the light did something to her that made her somehowmore. All the Summer Court Fae were similar, a sense of peace existing within them that came with proximity to the source of our magic, however minimal it may be in the Sidhe, who only held a tendril.
“Are we the only ones who left Tar Mesa?” she asked instead of greeting me. Her face was pinched, her features hard as she looked at me in a way that communicated her anger over what I’d done. She didn’t need to yell to tell me that, her emotive face offering everything her words did not.
“The rest of the Summer Court left along with us,” I said, holding my position. I wouldn’t force my proximity on her when it wasn’t necessary, knowing that this simmering attraction between us would pull us together in time, no matter how much she may try to fight it.
“Then where are they?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. She strode back toward the place where I’d slept and the horse waiting there, breezing past me without stopping to make sure I followed.
“They went ahead, took the easy paths. They’ll reach Vallania within two days,” I explained, following after her. I trailed a short distance behind her, close enough to reach out and touch her if I lunged, but not so close as to breathe down her neck and make her uncomfortable. “It is customary that we make this journey alone to prove our worth.”
She sighed, spinning to face me with a sudden burst of speed. She stumbled a little, the movement far less than coordinated. I narrowed my eyes on her face but didn’t move to help her, allowing her to right herself and shrug off the clumsy movement.
I had to imagine that becoming Fae after a lifetime as a human came along with some adjustments, that the changes in her body would take getting used to, but I’d never seen her move with anything other than carefully crafted grace before.
Other than the moment where she’d shattered the vase, anyway.
“Why are we not taking the easy paths?” she asked, making her way to Thunder. The horse extended his neck, reaching for her and nudging her with his muzzle. She patted his neck gently, smoothing the hair there with tenderness instead of fear despite his size. “And why the fuck is there only one horse?”
“Can’t have you riding off now, can I?” I asked, quirking a browat her. She’d carefully danced around what I’d done, avoiding the reality of me smuggling her out of Tar Mesa while she slept.
“What exactly would be the point in running away?” she asked, shaking her head as if the suggestion was foolish. “If my options are you or Mab, I think I know which one is less terrifying.”
“Ouch,” I said, rubbing my chest as if she’d wounded me. She only rolled her eyes in response, fidgeting with Thunder’s mane as she worked it into a running braid. The gelding looked at her from the corner of his eye, turning his head to push at her side in response. It hadn’t been her desire to stay in Tar Mesa that drove me to believe she’d return.
It was the witch we’d left behind, the one I knew without a doubt I needed to separate her from if I wanted to have any chance of getting to know the Fallon that I knew was in there. She was dependent on Imelda, on the relationship they’d formed over their years in Nothrek, and I suspected there was a greater dependence to that relationship than I could even begin to understand.
In order for Fallon to come into her own, she needed to leave her past where it belonged—at least for a little while.
She swatted Thunder away playfully without a care, turning him to face forward once more. “If that is the worst I say to you by the end of this, then count yourself lucky. There may come a day where I aim to make you cry.”
The distinct lack of venom in her words was nearly shocking, the statement coming as a simple fact. “I’ll keep that in mind. I can hardly expect you not to burn me in our eternity together, Sunfire,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest as I leaned back into the tree opposite where Thunder was tied and watched her work.
“Don’t call me that,” she spat, the nickname bringing out the worst of the ire that she’d kept carefully buried. It had struck a chord within her, something she hated brought to the surface. But instead of wanting to appease her anger by never using it again, it felt like the kind of wound I needed to poke at. Like it was responsible for so much of Fallon’s odd behavior when she shut away her cares.
“Does it frighten you?” I asked, crossing my ankles as I studied her. She paused, her hands stilling on Thunder’s mane, though she didn’t deign to look at me. “To know how hot your temper flares? To know what you would do for the ones you love? To know how you could light up the world if you let yourself?”
She turned to look at me slowly, her hazel eyes burning with rageand nostrils flared. “I would not light up the world,” she said, her voice laced with warning. “I would burn it to the ground if given a chance and leave nothing but ashes in my wake. I know myself well enough to know that whatever I am, it is something to be contained. I don’t trust myself to remain in control if I unleash my rage on this world.”
“You cannot cage a wildfire,” I said, pushing off the tree trunk to approach her.
She turned to face me fully, spreading her feet to shoulder-width apart as if we would fight. Given what had happened in her bedroom before Eryx forced her to sleep, I couldn’t exactly fault her for the assumption. There were probably a great many altercations in our future as husband and wife, and I looked forward to ending them with our slickened bodies fighting in the most carnal way.
