Confused, page 1
Confused
Confused
WANDA WILTSHIRE
BOOK 3 IN THE BETROTHED SERIES
First published in 2016 by Pantera Press Pty Limited
www.PanteraPress.com
This book is copyright, and all rights are reserved.
Text copyright © Wanda Wiltshire, 2016
Wanda Wiltshire has asserted her moral rights to be identified as the author of this work. Design and typography copyright © Pantera Press Pty Limited, 2016 Pantera Press, the three-slashed colophon device, great storytelling, good books doing good things, a great new home for Australia’s next generation of best-loved authors, WHY vs WHY, and making sense of everything are trademarks of Pantera Press Pty Limited. We welcome your support of the author’s rights, so please only buy authorised editions.
This is a work of fiction, though it may refer to some real events or people. Names, characters, organisations, dialogue and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, firms, events or locales is coincidental or used for fictional purposes. Without the publisher’s prior written permission, and without limiting the rights reserved under copyright, none of this book may be scanned, reproduced, stored in, uploaded to or introduced into a retrieval or distribution system, including the internet, or transmitted, copied, scanned or made available in any form or by any means (including digital, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, sound or audio recording, or text-to-voice). This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent recipient.
Please send all permission queries to:
Pantera Press, P.O. Box 1989 Neutral Bay, NSW 2089 Australia or info@PanteraPress.com
A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry for this book is available from the National Library of Australia.
ISBN 978-1-921997-59-4 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-921997-60-0 (Ebook)
Cover and Internal Design: Xou Creative www.xou.com.au
Author Photo: Cowan Whitfield
Typesetting: Kirby Jones
Printed in Australia: McPherson’s Printing Group
Pantera Press policy is to use papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and manufacturing processes are expected to conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.
Novels by Wanda Wiltshire
Betrothed
Allegiance
Confused
For Krystina,
kindred spirit and blue-winged faery
whose friendship helps me fly above the storms.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Acknowledgements
Wanda Wiltshire
Prologue
Fingers stinging and eyes bleeding, the faery watched the vapours spiral together. A kaleidoscope of colours turned bad with ill intention. Purple and pink and red—madness and weakness and lust; a twist of orange for rashness and another of yellow for fear; a slick of green for jealousy; and blue, of course blue, the most noble of colours made arrogant.
Exhausted, the faery leaned against the wall, watching Premilla lead the others in a dance around the vapours. Seven in all, their oiled bodies gleaming as they added to the pot. A splash of this and a pinch of that, a dash of this and a touch of that. Scents colliding and blending, creating the most rancid of odors, like poison and bad food and decay.
The faery retched and Premilla turned to see. She shook her head, one side of her mouth hitching up as she returned to weaving the colours together with her movements.
Eventually the colours dulled, slipped from the sky and fell back into the pot. The dance stopped. Premilla picked up a ladle, dipped it in deep and poured a sliver of black liquid into a jar no bigger than her thumb. She handed it to the faery. ‘Do you need further instruction?’
‘No.’
Premilla inclined her head. When she looked up again she was grinning, a flash of sapphire in her ebony eyes. ‘Then go and may you derive pleasure from the experience.’
The faery took to the sky, wings glittering against the dark.
Chapter One
The shadow creatures merged in and out of the cave walls, their numbers growing as they crept from tunnels and flew in through the roof, blood-filled wings glittering and full-moon eyes aglow. Their dry-dirt scent stung my nose as they shuffled close and poked fingers through the bars of my cage, starlight flashing on their daggered nails. Now and then they’d drag the points across my flesh—a sting, a taste and growling disappointment as they gulped my blood and smacked their lips. ‘Mortal, forbidden,’ they declared, leaving me alone.
The creatures pulled faeries screaming from their cages before merging with the walls, vanishing into shadowy crevices and darkness. But I could hear the Fae still, their sounds filling the dark—moans and weeping fading to nothing. I rocked and whispered Leif’s name, my heart banging against my knees. But my betrothed had gone the way of the others; all that remained of him dangling from the hook embedded in the wall—silent.
I rocked and the top of my head scraped the roof of the cage. Fear pulsed through me. Somewhere I had a home—in a land far away.
A girl with sunset hair emerged from the shadows. She was shrieking at the creatures to leave me alone. A man appeared beside her, and then a woman. They were holding their arms out to me, yelling at the creatures to let me go, that I belonged with them. But the moment I realised their identities, my human family disappeared and another of the shadowy creatures crouched before me. Her eyes were huge and wild, her hair a nest of dirt and twigs. She grinned and reached through the bars, opening her hand. Inside was a pile of dust, sparkling like ground glass. I peered closer, hypnotised by the twinkling colours. Then she leaned forward, drew in a deep breath and blew the dust into my eyes. I cried out, my hands flying to my face while her laugh cackled.
I woke, gasping, my heart crashing against my ribs and my eyes feeling as though they’d been stung by mosquito bites and filled up with hot sand. Resisting the urge to rub them, I blinked hard, discovering they were coated in a strange sticky fog that pulled at my eyelashes and made a hazy blur of the single sunstone shining in the darkness.
I stumbled out of bed and fell to the floor, my head spinning. Squeezing my eyes closed, I crawled in the direction of the ensuite, scrabbling for the basin and using it to pull myself up.
Slowly, I opened my eyes. They looked like they were filled with cinders—miniature embers swirling and sparking in the ash. I pumped the faucet as fast as I could, unable to drag the water through the castle walls quickly enough. As soon as the water began to run, I splashed my face and felt the sensation in my eyes begin to clear. I looked up just in time to see a swirl of grey-black mist. For a flash it seemed to take the form of lovers. Then, like magic, it vanished, leaving a pair of clear blue eyes staring back at me. I blinked. Not a trace of discomfort remained. After blinking a couple more times just to make sure, I left the ensuite and glanced around my room.
The stars had been a splash of glitter across the dark when Leif and I were carried back to the castle after being kidnapped and attacked by the Shadow King. We didn’t linger with family and friends. After checking Jack had made it safely back, and assuring everyone we were okay, we went to Leif’s room where we were bathed and tended to by a small army of maids and healers. By the time we fell into his bed, covered in herbs and ointments and healing poultices, the day was already turning bright.
I recalled curling into Leif’s body, listening to his long breaths and watching the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm as he fell asleep. Exhausted as I was, it had taken me a long time to join him, the horrendous events of the night on a loop in my mind. Strangely though, it was Leif’s words rather than the Shadow King’s dying ones which haunted me most of all. ‘Let’s go home, Marla.’
Home. For Leif it could only be Faera—dreamlike land of incomparable richness and beauty, where love of nature was woven into every aspect of life, where resources were shared, air was pure and food didn’t make a faery break out in a rash. Where dark things lurked
But for me, home was a three-bedroom unit in Sydney. It was beaches and bushland and close friends. A sister I loved and fought with, the most amazing mum and dad in the universe, and a newly discovered twin brother. Home called to me with its promise of comfort and safety—Dad’s perfect understanding and Mum’s relentless care. And, after what I’d just been through, I needed it desperately.
I remembered gazing up to Leif’s face, his lips parted in sleep and eyes lost to dreaming. As I brushed my fingers across the dark stubble peppering his jaw, I felt torn because I knew home was also wherever my betrothed was.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of murmurs coming through my open door. For some reason I found I couldn’t not investigate. I stepped out into the hallway and followed the sounds to Leif’s room, the long, soft carpet stealing the noise of my footsteps. His door was open and everything was in darkness, but enough of the colourful Faeran starlight slipped through his windows for me to see that my betrothed was in bed, his back turned towards me. And wrapped up in his arms was Haigen. She was watching me over Leif’s shoulder, her almond eyes gleaming. I was stunned motionless—couldn’t even breathe. She pressed her cheek to his face. ‘I love you, Leif.’
Leif lifted a hand and ran it slowly down the long length of her hair, his fingers brushing her arm, her waist, closing around her hip. ‘I love you also, Haigen.’
Her eyes glittered and flashed in my direction before vanishing into his neck. He pulled her body closer. Sliding his hand lower still, he gripped her thigh and brought it over his. As she lifted her lips to his and he bent to take them, I clapped a hand to my mouth and fled.
I sat on the edge of my bed, numb, shaking, unable to fully process what I’d just seen. Leif and Haigen together. I felt as though my heart had been torn out, all sensation with it, leaving a great big pit of nothing. Haigen—the girl he’d loved before I came along. Searing pain filled the hole in my chest and, when I could no longer bear it, I drank what remained of the sleeping potion I’d been given after my first Shadow Fae attack and curled in on myself, the liquid quickly infusing my blood and sending me to oblivion.
When I woke again the sun was bright in the sky and the maid, Seraya, was filling bowls with fresh flowers. She saw I was awake and smiled before asking about my health. My head pulsed as though I’d just regained consciousness after being knocked out. I told her I was all right as I rubbed at my eyes, wondering about the night before. Had it all been a dream? But if so, why was I in my room when I’d fallen asleep in Leif’s?
‘I know of your heroism,’ Seraya said, pulling me from my thoughts. ‘How you put yourself in danger to help overcome the Shadow King. It’s all over the castle—probably all over the kingdom by now.’ She pointed. ‘Some have written to honour you.’
I followed her finger. A bundle of notes sat on my bedside table, beside them a tiny carved box. I picked it up, turning it in my hand. ‘What’s this?’
‘A gift from a grateful man. He says you helped to rescue his wife, and that if the child she carries is a girl, she will be named for you.’
I thought of Nyrie, the faery who’d been imprisoned in the cage beside mine, and the broken husband I’d visited with Leif after she’d gone missing. It made me feel warm to know they were together again. ‘Brant,’ I said, removing the lid from the box. Inside was a small piece of stone, pale pink and polished. It was set in silver and attached to a short length of vine.
‘Do you know what this is?’ Seraya asked, taking it from me and tying it to my wrist.
‘No, but it’s pretty.’
‘It is called Darlemie and represents tenderness and bravery combined. When he brought it, Brant told all who would listen of yours.’
I recalled the way I’d hidden under the crate in the Shadow King’s cave, and shook my head. ‘I was terrified.’
‘Naturally so.’ She tidied the covers around me. ‘And yet you risked yourself regardless. But rest now, you need to regain your strength.’
The prospect of another long recovery period loomed ahead of me and I realised that I wouldn’t be able to go home to my family any time soon. I wondered if Leif’s health would be likewise affected. Then I remembered how quickly he’d healed in the past. Images surged in my head—Leif running his hand down Haigen’s body, drawing her close … kissing her. I shivered. As nightmares went, it was up there with the worst.
‘Marla?’
I gave my attention back to Seraya. ‘Sorry, what did you say?’
She smiled. ‘Your friends have been waiting for you to wake. Shall I send them in?’
I nodded and she left with the promise of bringing me breakfast.
At the sight of Jack and Hilary, a weight lifted from me, bringing a smile to my face. It quickly fell away again when I noticed the drawn expressions on both of theirs. ‘What’s wrong?’
A look passed between them as Hilary sat in the chair beside me and took my hand while Jack settled on the edge of the bed.
Panic flared in my chest. ‘Where’s Leif?’
‘He’s fine,’ Hilary said quickly. ‘It’s just …’ She closed her mouth and lowered her eyes to her lap, her grip tightening on my hand. ‘Some of the guards were killed.’ She looked up, tucking a strand of hair that had fallen free of her ponytail behind her ear. ‘Classin was one of them.’
Air whooshed into my lungs as an image leapt into my head—Classin’s bright green eyes changing from serious to mischievous in an instant. ‘No!’
Jack stood and leaned over the bed, hugging me against him. I could hardly breathe. Classin—the young guy who’d been so excited to receive the promotion to the King’s High Guard. And then my thoughts went to my betrothed. He and Classin had been friends. ‘Where’s Leif?’ I asked again.
‘He’s with Haigen,’ Hilary said. ‘She came to the castle with Rowan and her father not long after you got back.’
Haigen—oh God, she’d lost her betrothed. A wave of sorrow crashed over me as I imagined what she must be feeling. It rushed through my body like a tsunami, but before it could sweep me away, I found myself standing outside Leif’s bedroom again. I could feel the blood leech from my face as I realised what I’d seen hadn’t been a dream at all.
‘Are you all right?’ Hilary said, leaning close.
‘I feel sick.’ I closed my eyes. But I couldn’t hide from what was in my mind.
A few hours later, Leif entered my room, tired and weary and overwrought. I could see it in his eyes and in every line of his face and body. He fell into my bed and wound his arms around me, sighing as he drew me close. As if by instinct, I snuggled into him, but then pulled back when images of him with Haigen flashed in my head.
‘How are you feeling after … everything?’ he asked.
How was I feeling? Sad, sick, betrayed … Like I couldn’t trust him. ‘All right,’ I told him.
I was about to add how sorry I was about Classin when he said, ‘The maids tell me you have not eaten.’
I turned my face into his side, his amazing forest-spice scent soothing me even as my thoughts raced with accusations. ‘I wasn’t hungry.’
‘You’ve not eaten for days.’
I looked up, hoping to find his expression didn’t match the tightness in his voice. His head was back against the pillows, eyes closed. Darkness had moved in around them. I couldn’t stop the prickles in my voice. ‘I was worried. I can’t eat when I’m worried.’
No response apart from a barely perceptible nod.
‘Aren’t you even going to tell me where you’ve been?’
‘Didn’t Hilary tell you I was with Haigen?’
I had to think quickly. I could plead ignorance, but what would be the point? ‘She did.’
‘Well then, why would you ask?’
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting—denials, excuses, apologies. I got none of these. He just carried on. ‘Marla, Classin is dead. Haigen is devastated and wants nothing more than to join him.’
Leif’s words felt like a slap and heat rushed to my face. I was about to apologise for being so self-centred at such a devastating time. But then I recalled the way Haigen had told Leif she loved him, and the way she’d lifted her face to kiss him. The way he’d bent to catch her lips. He was behaving as though it hadn’t even happened. So instead I said, ‘I understand that, Leif, and I can’t imagine what she must be going through, but …’ I had to stop, my stomach was churning like a boiling kettle and I was completely unable to form the words to tell him what I’d seen.
