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“He was a prisoner there, too?”
I nod. “I thought you knew they were at war?”
“Sure. Musings. But not every supernatural knows each other,” he replies. “And since it’s not my world, I tend not to pay it any attention. The things I’ve heard of Rafferty though—he’s legendary even in Reaper circles.”
“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” I sniffle. “Rafferty rescued me from Taranus’s bedroom, and we fled the castle. We made it to a small village, and then I realized that my death would mean Taranus’s.”
“Because of the bond?”
“Yes. Apparently, when there is a blood exchange, it ties the souls together, and we’re drawing on each other.” I choke on a sob. “I asked Rafferty to kill me. I’m dying here, anyway, so what was the harm? Then, he could save his world from Taranus, and my death would mean something.”
Sullivan’s brows draw together, and he narrows his gaze on me. “Your death is never meaningless,” he says. “Every person you’ve touched, every friend you’ve ever had will feel the weight of your loss.”
I shake my head. “Not this way. This way, my death would mean the resurrection of an entire world.”
He leans back. “I assume that since you’re here, he didn’t try to go through with it?”
“Rafferty refused. He was angry that I’d even suggested it and promised we’d find another way. So I ran. I got help from another fae, and together, we searched for the portal. But when we found it, Taranus had already set up camp.” I run my tongue over chapped lips and fidget with the blankets. “Long story short, Rafferty found us. There was a fight, and Conary came through the portal with me before it closed.”
“Fae can travel between the worlds. Why has Rafferty not come for you?”
“Taranus removed his wings,” I tell him. “And Taranus told me the Veil between our worlds is shut down. That the portal was the only way in and out.”
Sullivan’s brow furrows, and he disappears, shimmering from view. A few seconds later, though, he’s back. “The Veil is open,” he announces with a shiver. “Open and crawling with souls.”
“You went to Faerie?” Hope gives me renewed energy. If he can get to Faerie, he can tell Rafferty—that flame dies as abruptly as it arrived.
“Only a light fae can access Faerie. I can, however, get into the Veil, though since I tend to avoid transporting supernatural souls, it’s not a place I frequent.”
Disappointment settles in my bones alongside the realization that Rafferty could come here and he chose not to. I should feel relieved. After all, I’m the one who ran away, knowing I would never see him again. I’m the one who endangered everyone, who likely got Fin killed, because I was so set on dying in my world.
So why does it hurt so damn bad? Why does it feel like abandonment?
“You love him,” Sullivan says softly.
I meet his gaze. “What?”
“Rafferty. You’re in love with him.”
“I barely know him.”
“That doesn’t matter when it comes to love. It amazes me how humans put a timeline on when you’re allowed to feel love. It’s the strangest double standard. For example, a human relationship could go on for years, and true love is not felt. But for the right pairing, one can know in a matter of moments.”
I understand what he’s saying, and truth be told, I feel the validity of his words. I was drawn to Rafferty from the moment I first saw him. Hell, earlier if my hallucinations count. “I saw him before I ever knew Faerie existed,” I admit. “Once on our date.”
Sullivan smiles knowingly. “I will try not to take offense to that.” Leaning forward, he covers my hand with his. “You and him? Sounds like it’s a soul-pairing,” he says softly. “They are very rare.”
“What is a soul-pairing?”
“Your destiny and his are irrevocably tied together. Some supernaturals call it a mate pairing. Humans call it soulmates.”
“That’s not possible. Rafferty has already mated.”
Sullivan shrugs. “I don’t pretend to know everything. But I would be willing to bet your time with him is not over.”
A wave of exhaustion consumes me, so I lean my head back and close my eyes. “He’s not coming,” I whisper. “And this—dying here—is what I want.”
Lips press gently to my forehead. Then Sullivan whispers, “Then you are lying to yourself.”
