“And if I tell you that Cael would be her enemy? Would you not hold tight to your ability to shield her with a power that could stop him?” Alice lays my blindfold over my shoulder. “Your world is not one that the powerless thrive in. Danielle is young, and so are the rest of your growing brood. There are enemies they do not have the skill to oppose. Your kingdom is weak. It would not survive against many other domains should the fancy to overthrow it strike. Your power is a cornerstone. What you need isn’t togive upcontrol. You have already done so. You were born into this world with little restraint and large emotions. You gave those emotions your control and let them propel you from one thing to the next. Even now, though they are kinder, you are letting your emotions rule in this decision.You want a cure, Castor?” Her hand lays flat against my chest, over the irregular hammering beat of my heart. “Let go of your anger and your self-loathing. Forgive yourself, and free others from your resentment. Pila already gave you the answer you need. You just have to truly choose it.”
“Love?” I hiss. “How can you ever expect me to look upon someone Ilove, knowing I could kill them? Taking such a risk in itself would invalidate the emotion. Love is sacrifice, caution, care.”
“Trust.”
I bite my tongue.
“You must trust yourself, Castor. Trust yourself, and ask yourself… Did Pila really survive because of what she is?Orbecause you did not want to hurt her? There is a great difference between being unafraid in front of someone because you fearlessly love anyone you encounter and negating a magic. Being made of love does not mean a magic blade would not cut her.”
I remember the moments after I met Pila’s eyes. I remember them well. I…broke. I crumpled into terror, panic, heartbreak. I thought I’d killed someone else, someone undeserving, someone I’d heard laugh in Willow’s cottage, someone sokind. I shake my head. “This is not a control issue. I have turned people I have not wanted to before.”
“Have you?”
“Yes. I have a basement of statues—humans. They found themselves in my lands, on the precipice of agony, and I listened to them go mad before I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to, but—”
“But you did. With intention. Because this power is yours to control.”
“You cannot be telling me that all this time it has beenmychoice.”
“I cannot? Really? Why? Why would you ever suggest there is anything Icannotdo, Castor? Don’t be foolish or, worse, annoying. I am astory fae. I traverse the realms here and beyond. I watch the universe ebb and grow. I write new moments into blooming tales. I prompt and alter. I incite incidents. I send heroes on their journeys. I commune with others of my kin in worlds you’ve never heard of and will never touch without my blessing.” Coolly, she crosses her arms and huffs. “Know your place. Our very worst enemies will always,alwaysbe the things we bring upon ourselves. Because no matter how horrible what someone else might inflict on us is, it is on us how we receive the information, process it, and set it free. True change cannot be forced. We make choices and respond to the plotline of our lives. True change is achoice. Yet, often, it happens when we are out of other options. When we have come so low the only thing left is to desperately claw our way out of the pit and on to a different path.”
Anger vibrates in my chest. “If it was all on me,from the start, why did you not tell meagesago?”
“Because. First of all, you wouldn’t have been desperate enough to believe me. And, secondly, I am not responsible for you.”
“What?”
“Camilla Evergreen.”
That name.Again. “What about her?”
“She’s responsible for you, not me. Your story is in her library, not mine…though I do suspect we meet in many ways, touching in the cracks between our worlds, cowriting on occasion. We are watchers, creators, recorders…but within our own realms, we limit our powers for the safety of all. There are rules on what we should do. Often, I wonder if we create anything at all when we touch a new world, or if we merely discover something that already was and give it anew perspective. Camilla is the one who discovered you and your potential. She observed you. She nudged pieces together, watched pieces fall apart. She wove my role into your tale, and perhaps one day I will return the favor for a tale of hers, but for the moment, I am merely the catalyst that informs you that, yes, actually, accountability is a thing. You can move on from this, blaming what you are as the reason behind why you can’t fit in, or you can take responsibility, accept what you are, and wield your powers with the kinder intentions that you have grown to value.”
It can’t be that simple.
It can’tallbe my fault.
“And yet, it is.” Her hands close against my cheeks, and her voice—for once—is sweet. “You are a being of intense emotion with a distinct set of core beliefs. You were born hard, cruel, and violent in a world that was all of those things. You have grown in them. You have grown past them. You have tried to block them out and turn a blind eye on them. You have come a long way…and you are now choosing to be soft, to be kind, to be gentle.Believeyou have changed, Castor. Believe that you are also a being capable of rebirth.”
“And if I’m not?” I ask, voice breaking. “Ever since Pollux told me that my house of statues retained life, I have been trying in my spare moments to undo the stone, to no avail.”
“Yes, and you—like Pollux—have longed for a mate that never came until the moment you truly believed it might be possible. Must I spell everything out for you?”
“Yes.” Obviously.
Once more, she sighs, blessedly remaining unfathomably gentle. “You have spent the past month renaming Danielle—as yours, as love, as strength, aseverything. She has taken that power within herself and grown with it. Through you, she is reclaiming her own name and how she views who she is. She istaking up space. She is finding joy, purpose, and peace in how you see her. She is the fire to your foundation. The freedom to your stability. Accept the names she gives you in return, and use them to rewrite what you believe about yourself.Belief, we know as faeries, is powerful. You have come far in reshaping who you are. Face the parts of your past that you can; release the parts you can’t. Accept the things about you that you—as you are right now—do not want to change yet feel guilty for keeping. Be kind in response to your mistakes. Be understanding that the future will hold imperfections. Give yourself grace one step at a time, Castor. For once you have cast off the self-loathing and anger of your past, you must enter the next chapter andwrite your own story.”
Releasing me, Alice steps away, returning to seat behind the counter. Calm as ever, she draws her touch across the wood and murmurs, “Sooner or later, Castor, everyone finds themselves atthe end. That is where all story fae relinquish their power. But what happens next…”
A fist locks around my heart, but I say, “Is all on me.”
Kinder than I’ve ever known her to be, Alice smiles. “Precisely.”
Chapter 37
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Romance, the cure for all trauma! Probably.
