The familiar timbre of Endymion’s voice was jagged with raw concern, and something in the poorly veiled panic begged me to let him become my north star. Instinctively, I reached for him as I tried to claw my way out of the maelstrom of sound intent on stealing my sanity.
Even with his presence guiding me toward him, it took several minutes before I was able to ground myself enough that the ringing began to ebb and my surroundings came back into focus. Slowly blinking, I raised a hand to shield my pounding head from the blinding sun spilling through the expansive archways that greeted Summer’s essence with open arms.
Endymion’s hulking silhouette knelt over me, his features sharpening as I caught his gaze.
A faint smile ghosted his lips. “There you are.”
“Thank the stars,” Caius murmured from his side.
My body ached in the wake of the roaring tempest that had assaulted my senses. I lay there, breaths heavy, and for the first time in my life, I truly felt…nothing. And Mother help me, was it blissfully quiet. I knew the numb stillness enveloping me would prove fleeting, but I thanked the gods that this peace wasn’t contrived by a cursed necklace noosed around my neck.
The phantom weight of that cursed diamond lingered against my chest as the memory of it cracked through the blissful fog.
Fleeting indeed, I thought, focusing on the softness of the thick rug peeking between my fingers, trying to root myself in the present.
I had no idea how I’d wound up on the floor in the fetal position, or how long I’d been there. One thing was certain: neither of them dared touch me—not even to move me to the sofa only a few strides away. No, Endymion had promised he’d never push my boundaries.
“Nyleeria?”
My name on the autumn fae’s tongue was heavy, as if that single word were asking for answers I didn’t know and wasn’t prepared to face.
I stared past my fingers idly playing with the cream-colored rug and into the memory of what had just transpired.
Don’t you fucken touch me.
The words were acrid, even now. I’d lashed out like a coiled serpent, and Endymion’s shock had been proof enough that the venom had struck true.
Stars, where had that vitriol come from?
Shame, warm and heavy, sluiced through me, trying to take hold—but it was the cool shock of fear that found purchase, driving me to my knees.
The prickle in my veins was courtesy of a question that terrified me: What was the cost of becoming fae? And worse, what if it was my humanity?
“Nyleeria?”
I didn’t allow Caius’ voice to cut through the haze of my thoughts. Lifting a hand to signal that I needed a moment, I felt—rather than saw—the two of them exchange a glance.
I knew myself. I held grace for others, even when they didn’tdeserve it. Hells, when I did lash out, it was always with frustrations I’d choked back for too long or truths I could no longer hold captive.
Turning that kind of venom on Endymion was so out of character that I scrambled to recall the exact words I’d thrown at him during the summer solstice—the ones where I’d called his humanity into question.
His expression was unreadable as the words replayed in my mind.
You should try it, you know, the humanity part of it. Maybe it wasn’t woeful ignorance that kept us away for five centuries. Maybe we saw who you are, what you are, and chose decency, chose to forget. You can have your magic and your secret realm if this is the cost.
Ifthisis the cost.
I was…
I swallowed, unable to finish the thought. My chest constricted so hard my heart skipped a beat.
Oh gods, Iwasfae now.
Bracing my palms against the floor, I fought back the nausea.
No. Godsdammit, no. I refused to sacrifice the core of who I was for whatever fucked-up games the Fates were playing at. And in that moment, I forbade myself from becoming a monster—evenifmy humanity was stolen.
Taking a few measured breaths, I sat back on my heels and finally met Endymion’s unwavering gaze, his eyes alight with countless unspoken questions as they mined mine for answers.
