Cursed Rebel, page 11
He glanced down at me, and a smirk curled his lips. “I suppose you’re not so bad yourself…for a mortal.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, I guess. Although, I’m sure it would make all those other human girls you’ve seduced jealous to hear you say that.”
He cocked his head, eyes narrowed, as he sat back down. Quietly, he said, “Ah, but I said mortal, not human.”
It took a second for his words to make sense, and then my heart tripped. “What do you mean? Are you saying…I’m not human?” That is insane…right? I was no longer sure what constituted insanity.
Fin stared at me silently, but there was a message in his eyes, and I realised he was trying to tell me what he’d figured out earlier, about why the King wanted me. He couldn’t tell me outright…but maybe he could give me clues, so I could work it out myself.
“So…” I said slowly. “I’m right, ain’t I? I’m not human. But if I’m not human, then what am I? Fae?”
He shook his head. “No, you’re not fae. You take after your Grandmother. You…” He snapped his mouth shut, grinding his teeth.
I frowned. “I’m what?” I asked. He shook his head again. “You can’t say?” I guessed.
Fin nodded. I sighed.
“Okay. Okay. So. You said I take after my Grandmother. Do you mean that whatever I am, she was one too?”
He stared at me, mute. His lips were pressed into a hard line, and he looked like he was in pain. He obviously couldn’t say anything more, but I could tell I was right by the look in his eyes.. My Grandmother had been like me, whatever that meant. At least that explained why she’d been so sure the fae would come for me eventually, and how she’d known so much about the Otherworld. Maybe she’d been taken there, too, when she was younger…
It was a revelation, and somehow it made me feel closer to my Grandma, thinking that she might have been in the same situation that I was.
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I looked at Fin. “She was here, wasn’t she? My Grandmother. That’s why she hated the fae, why she tried to protect me from them. Right? She was a…a witch or something. Like me. That’s what I am, isn’t it?”
Fin’s eyes were emerald flames, his mouth and forehead pinched with pain, and I knew he couldn’t agree or disagree, but he didn’t need to. I was right. I could feel it. It all made sense.
Suddenly, Fin grunted and curled into himself, hissing in pain. Startled and concerned, I moved toward him.
“Fin! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He cursed, his eyes squeezed shut, and I laid a hand on his arm. His skin was burning hot. He was clutching his chest and stomach. “Fin, lie back. Let me see.”
Breathing hard, he laid down, and I pried his hands away from his body. I pushed up his shirt, my fingers shaking more and more with each inch of flesh I revealed. I gasped, staring at his chest. He was glowing. It looked as if words of a foreign language had been carved into his skin, each line blazing with red light. It was beautiful and horrifying, and it was obviously causing him agony.
“Oh my God,” I breathed. But even as I stared, the lines began to fade, the light sinking into his skin until there was nothing left but perfect, smooth flesh. Amazed, I ran my fingers gently over his pecs just to reassure myself there were no scars. It seemed impossible there wouldn’t be, but his skin was warm and unmarked.
Fin shuddered at my touch, and his eyes fluttered open, the pupils blown wide. “Well…that was fun,” he gasped.
I pulled my hand away from his skin reluctantly. I was still shaking. “Wh-what the hell was that?”
“That,” he said, wincing as he sat up, “was a warning. It happens when I get too close to saying something I shouldn’t. The words are Gaelic, reminding me of my vow of silence. Hurts like a bitch.”
My eyes were wide. “Did you know that would happen?”
He shrugged carefully. “I suspected it might.”
“And you still tried to tell me…”
He looked away. “Like I said, I’m not a monster.”
I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was stare at him until he finally cleared his throat and pointed to the tent.
“You should probably get some rest. It’s been a long day. I’ll keep watch out here.”
Despite my tiredness, I hesitated. “Are you okay?”
He grinned, but it looked forced. “Never better. Now go on. Sleep. I don’t want to have to carry your ass the rest of the way to the Palace.”
Reluctantly, I crawled into the tent, which was in fact not magically huge inside. It was just a tent, with a low roof, slanted walls, and a cosy-looking sleeping bag spread out on the ground. I wriggled my way into the bag, and as soon as my eyes closed, I was asleep.
Chapter Sixteen
** Fin **
He was screwed.
Sitting outside the tent, watching the starlight sparkle on the peaceful water of the river, Fin put his head in his hands and tugged his hair in frustration. There was something wrong with him, very wrong. It was all he could do to sit there and not crawl inside the tent to shake Lucy awake.
Christ. That wasn’t like him. He was used to being attracted to human girls, but that…that was insane. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about touching her, kissing her. And worse? It wasn’t just physical. He had feelings for her. He liked her. And he wanted her to like him.
It was wrong. All of it was wrong. He couldn’t have feelings for the girl, not now, not ever, especially not now that he knew the truth about her. He should have known. He should have seen it. The way she’d sensed him in the school, the way she’d resisted his Charm, the effect her blood had on the Otherworld. There was only one reason the King would be so desperate to claim a particular human girl; she wasn’t entirely human. She was a Mage—a witch. A very specific witch, descended from a very specific line of witches.
It was no wonder her Grandmother had hated the fae and the Otherworld, no wonder she’d tried so hard to protect Lucy from it. She had to have known that Lucy would inherit her powers when she died, and then the fae would come after her. The King would come after her.
Someone must have tried to take Lucy’s Grandmother to the King, and she’d somehow escaped. She’d probably heard the tales of evil fae from her Grandmother, and so on. The information was passed down to every second generation—the way the magic was passed down. Lucy’s family had to have been running from the Otherworld for generations, ever since the first witch in their family cast the Curse that the King had been living with for over a century. The Curse that caused him to lose most of his power every Winter. The Curse that made him weak and susceptible to being overthrown by his enemy, the Queen, when she was at her strongest.
Fallow was one of the only fae in the whole of the Otherworld who knew of the King’s Curse, because he’d been there when it had been cast on him—he’d seen the witch and the magic with his own eyes. He’d seen the heartbreak in the King’s eyes when the woman he loved had turned against him and fled from the Otherworld forever, leaving him scarred, broken and Cursed.
Unfortunately, the Queen knew of the Curse too, thanks to Ryder. Ryder had been in the Great Hall with him when the King had been Cursed. He’d seen it too and had reported it back to the Queen, who used the King’s temporary weakness to her advantage every Winter, trying to overthrow him and take over the whole of the Otherworld.
That was part of the reason Fin hated Ryan so much—he was a traitor and a rat. Although lately, since seeing him with Lucy, seeing how comfortable she was with him, Fallow hated Ryder for a completely new reason.
Which brought him back to, I can’t have feelings for her! It’s pointless. It’s only going to end in pain.
Fin sighed and banged his head on his knuckles, cursing himself over and over, but the more he thought about Lucy, the more his heart ached. Because he, of all people, knew the only way to break the King’s Curse was to kill a descendant of the Mage who had set the Curse.
It didn’t matter how he felt, because Lucy was going to die.
** Lucy **
Fin was broody the next day, but at least we were taking a break from hiking. When I’d woken up, he’d told me we’d stay where we were for the day.
When I asked why, all he would say was, “Things have changed. I need time to think before we go any further.”
No matter how much I prodded, he wouldn’t explain what he meant. Eventually, he wandered off, leaving me with strict instructions not to go anywhere, and if anything came sniffing around me, to get back into the tent. He’d said the tent would protect me, though how a layer of leaf-covered linen was meant to protect me from anything but a light rain, I had no idea. I guessed it was suffused with some sort of magic like an Armouring Enchantment, or a Keep-the-witch-girl-safe Spell. Whatever.
When I heard the sound of feet shuffling softly through the trees behind me, my first instinct was not to crawl into the tent and cower like a scaredy cat just because Fin expected me to. No, instead, I crept around a bramble bush and peeked through the thorny branches. Being careful not to prick myself on them, especially after the day before, I tried to get a look at whoever or whatever was lurking nearby.
At first, all I could see was a tangle of fernlike plants and a handful of tall red flowers with spiked petals that shone like metal in the sunlight filtering through the shadowy boughs above. They were beautiful, but undoubtedly deadly. Most everything in the Otherworld, I’d learned so far, was dangerous. Except Fin. Or maybe especially him.
I was just about to turn around, thinking I had only heard the wind, when a boot stepped into my view, close enough that I flinched back into the brambles. The boot was followed by a pair of long legs clad in white leather, a sword sheathed at the hip, a lean torso leading up to a face half-hidden by a curtain of dark hair.
I let out a sigh of relief and stood up. “Ryan, you scared me!” I breathed, throwing my arms around his waist.
He chuckled in my ear, returning my hug. “I scared you? What about me? I woke up yesterday and you guys were just gone!”
He pulled back, holding my shoulders, so he could look me over as if he was searching for injuries. I waved him off.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry we took off without you. Fin, you know.” I shrugged. It was the best explanation I could give as to why I’d run away from one of my best friends.
His expression darkened. “Yeah, I guessed as much. But you’re okay? He didn’t…touch you or anything, did he?” he asked quietly.
I bit my lip. I remembered Fin holding me after he’d saved me from the man-eating bush, the heat of his hard body against mine and the scent of him in my nose. I remembered lying in the grass with him, watching the stars.
Hoping he couldn’t see me blush, I said to Ryan, “No…no, he didn’t hurt me.”
Ryan grimaced, his hands tightening on my shoulders, and I flinched at the sudden anger in his expression.
“I didn’t ask if he hurt you. I asked if he touched you. I’ve known Fallow a long time, Lucy, and I know how he is with girls. If he touched you, if he kissed you or tried anything with you, I’ll—”
My blush darkened with his words, and I smacked his hands away. “No! God, Ryan, no! Nothing like that!” But there was that moment where he almost kissed me. I quickly shook the thought away as it kicked up butterflies in my gut.
Some of the tension drained from Ryan’s body, and he sighed in relief, his eyes softening. “Good. Because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you that way,” he said, stepping forward.
Gently, he took my hand in his, and my breath caught as Ryan looked at me in a way he never had before—not in real life, not outside of my dreams. He was looking at me as if…as if I belonged to him. As if he wanted me as more than a friend.
His mouth twitched, and he tucked my hair back with his free hand, his fingertips skimming my cheek. “Lucy, don’t look at me like that. I know I should have told you before…before all of this…but I was scared. Scared of you finding out what I am. But now you know, so it doesn’t matter. Now, I can tell you how I really feel.”
My heart was pounding against my ribs, and my head felt fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening. I was dreaming. I had to be. Because Ryan couldn’t really be telling me…that.
Funny how I could believe he was a faery, no problem, but ask me to believe he cared about me as more than a friend, the way I’d secretly longed for him to feel about me for weeks? That was just too much. Too impossible.
But he was, and he did.
I stood stock-still, shocked, confused and uncertain, while Ryan bent his head to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my lips and see the flecks in his blue eyes.
He whispered, “I love you, Lucy. I have for a long time. And I don’t want Fallow to take you away from me, not now that you know everything, now that I can be honest with you.”
“I–I don’t…you…” I stuttered. I didn’t know what to say, what to think. But there was a nagging, deep in my gut, telling me something was wrong. Part of me, a surprisingly large part, wanted Fin to come back.
Ryan silenced my stammering with a finger over my lips, and my breath trembled as he slid his hand away and tilted my head up toward his. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he breathed.
Then he kissed me. At first, I didn’t feel anything but the pressure of his lips on mine, then he sank his fingers into my hair, and parted my lips with his. I felt his tongue probing at my mouth. My stomach dipped, but I couldn’t decide if it was a good feeling or not—I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t feeling anything. I’d dreamed of that moment for weeks, of Ryan finally admitting his feelings for me and kissing me. So why did it feel so…wrong?
Slowly, he pulled back, looking down at me with a crease between his eyebrows. “Lucy?”
I felt heat crawl up my throat and tears stung my eyes. Why? Why didn’t I feel anything? I wanted this, didn’t I? I wasn’t so sure.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” I whispered.
His mouth turned down at the corners, as if he didn’t understand what I was saying. I swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry. I thought…I wanted that, wanted this…but I…”
He blinked at me slowly, frowning. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it. His expression smoothed out, turning oddly flat, and he swore. Anger lit his eyes like fireworks.
“That bastard turned you against me, didn’t he? He wants you for himself. I knew it the minute I saw him with you. But you’re mine, Lucy. We’re meant to be together. You know it in your heart. You love me, too. I know you do. Please, forget about him. Come with me. Come with me, and I’ll take you home. We’ll both leave this place right now.”
Shaking my head, scared by his sudden anger and vehemence, I tried to back away, but he snatched my wrist, squeezing tight.
I gasped. “Please, Ryan, I’m sorry. This isn’t about Fin. I just…I don’t feel that way about you. I thought I did.”
He glared at me, his fingers grinding the bones in my wrist. “Bullshit. Fallow managed to charm his way into your pants, didn’t he? You’ve been with him. That’s why you’re denying what you feel about me.”
My face turned hot with fury and embarrassment, and I tried to yank away from him, but his grip was steel. “How dare you! I didn’t sleep with Fin, for Christ’s sake, Ryan! I’m telling you, I just…don’t love you that way. You’re still my best friend, but…. Ouch! Please, Ry, you’re hurting me!”
“She said let her go, Ryder,” a deep, smooth voice said from behind me.
Some of my fear dissolved at the sound of that voice, and Ryan dropped my wrist. I stepped back, rubbing it, and Fin’s arm came around my waist, pulling me back behind him as he unsheathed his sword and pointed the tip at Ryan.
Ryan sneered at Fin, a horrible expression I’d never seen on his face before. Then again, I’d never seen him angry like that before either—as if he would hurt me. Hell, he had hurt me. My wrist was probably going to bruise, but more than that, I felt as if the ground had shifted under my feet. Ryan had always been my rock, steady, solid and calm. But right then, he looked half-mad as he grinned manically at Fin, his blue eyes bright with the urge for violence.
“Fallow. The white knight returns to save his precious, de-flowered princess. How chivalrous.” His smirk was dirty and nasty. “Bet chivalry wasn’t on the menu last night, was it? Or did you think it was noble, sticking your manly sword into her—”
“Shut up, Ryan!” I screamed, my face boiling hot, tears scalding my cheeks. What had happened to my friend? To the friendly, playful guy I’d crushed on for weeks? Why had he been replaced by that cold, cruel…faery?
Fin’s face was a blank, unreadable, but his knuckles were white as he gripped his sword. Quietly, he said, “You heard her. She doesn’t want you, Ryder. I think you should leave. Now.” It wasn’t really a suggestion, though he’d phrased it like one. It was a steel-edged command. I could see Fin’s green eyes glinting with…anger? Disgust? I couldn’t tell. But I knew it was nothing good.
Ryan looked about to argue, his teeth and fists clenched. I really didn’t want them to fight, didn’t want Ryan to end up getting hurt—despite his cruelty, he was still my friend. I’d hurt him; I could understand him lashing out.
So I stepped forward and pleaded, “Please, Ryan. Just go. I’ll…I’ll talk to you later, okay? Just…please go.”
He looked at me, and the anger flared in his eyes for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and his face softened. “Okay,” he murmured. “I’ll go. And I’m sorry I hurt you. I just…lost control for a second. But Lucy?”
“Yeah?” I whispered, stung by the hurt in his eyes.
“I meant what I said. And I know you’ll come around sooner or later. When you do, I’ll find you. I promise.” Then he was gone in a swirl of leaves, just up and vanished like smoke.
