“No.”
“You are. I know humans hold mating as a sacred act, but most fae don’t. However, it was that very realization that sparked my suspicion. I was on alert after that and grew even more concerned when she said she wanted her sister to join, that Maryanne couldn’t bear the thought of becoming my brother’s mate without having experienced a man before. The girl stepped out of the shadows and into the bed with us. Said I seemed like a lover who could provide the instruction she needed.”
“I told you to spare me the details,” I say through my teeth.
“You also said you wanted to know everything.”
“Then get on with it.”
I can tell he’s amused by my discomfort. He continues. “After that, my suspicion only grew. I wasn’t falling for their false passions, not even as Theresa climbed in my lap, trying to lull me with her words. Kissing me.”
I hate the visions that swirl inside my imagination. Theresa and Maryanne Holstrom, Sableton’s perfect little sweethearts, crawling all over Aspen, caressing him. Tasting him. My fingers dig into my palms as I try to quell my fury. Why do these visions infuriate me so?
“I knew they were up to something,” Aspen says, “and I wanted to know what it was. I didn’t close my eyes. Not when Maryanne turned my lips to hers. Not when Theresa lifted the iron blade, bared her teeth as she brought it down. My mind cleared at once, and I understood their true intentions. I blocked the thrust of the blade and turned it on her, then her sister. They were dead before their bodies struck the ground.”
My fury extinguishes to horror. “You killed them. Without question. Without trial.”
“They never had a chance.” I’m surprised at the sorrow in his tone. “I was so enraged when I realized what was happening, I never stopped to think I could have overpowered them, could have kept them alive for questioning. Not even their bodies at my feet halted my anger. I was blinded by it. Swallowed by it. I shifted to my unseelie form and tore through Faerwyvae, past the wall, into your village. There I slaughtered every animal I’d gifted the Holstroms, my antlers tearing into flesh and bone, dooming the treaty, damning all of the Fair Isle to war.”
Bile rises in my throat as my eyes flash to his twisting antlers. I shudder. “You really did it. You murdered the Holstrom girls and killed their animals.”
“They were defenseless.” His voice is a sorrowful whisper. “I can still smell the blood of the cows, the pigs, the sheep. Feel the resistance of their flesh as it met my antlers. I can still see the bodies of the girls, littering the floor. I’ve had that bedroom scoured and sealed off. Made a new one here.”
I try to ignore how shaken he seems by relaying the tale. Try, instead, to see the monster he is. “You told my people it was treason.”
“It was. They made an attempt on my life, and I delivered my cruel justice.”
“And you expect me to believe you had nothing to do with my sister going missing?”
“I already promised you I don’t,” he says, his tone darkening. “I am not kind and I am not a hero, but I don’t kill unprovoked. Your sister never did a thing to anger me. I may not have loved her, but I would never have wished her harm. And I never would have hurt the Holstrom girls if they hadn’t come to kill me first.”
I don’t know what to think, what to believe. Could he be crazy? Could he have imagined the dagger in Theresa’s hands? Misunderstood some unintentional gesture? Then again, their behavior in the first place is unimaginable. If they had the gall to seduce him in the night, days before their weddings, then it could be I never really knew them at all.
“Take me away, Evie,” Aspen mutters. “Send me to oblivion. Let me forget.”
With trembling fingers, I grab the extract and give him half a dropperful. He slips into unconsciousness before the vial returns to the table. I stare at him, pondering the duality between the vicious beast that kills defenseless girls, and the vulnerable king who mourns their deaths.
With every answer I get, my world shifts further upside-down.
Too shaken by the story to do anything else, I slide to the floor and cry into my hands.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The next morning, I leave Aspen alone in his room so I can get some air. He managed to sleep through the night, and last time I checked his wound, the black tendrils were finally beginning to fade in earnest.
I find myself standing at the open expanse in the formal dining room, leaning against the rail as I breathe in fresh, salty air. It’s so much better than the tension of the bedroom. The sea crashes at the shore then recedes, revealing entrances to the coral caves between each wave. I can’t help but ponder what Aspen said.
Somewhere out there, Amelie could be alive.
“I hope you don’t take offense, but you look terrible.”
I turn to find Foxglove and flash him a smile. “I do take offense, but I think you must be right. Lorelei said the same thing earlier.”
“Come,” he says, “you should bathe. Dress. Let me brush out your hair.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to disturb the king. He’s been sleeping soundly all morning.”
“We won’t need to. Lorelei fetched some clothes from your room and brought them to your parlor. We’ve had a tub brought in as well.”
