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“But Tessa…”
“Needs our help.”
I rubbed my jaw. If I used my power to attack the storm fae, hundreds would die in an instant. They were warriors, sent to fight a war against my kingdom, but still. I’d hated doing it almost four hundred years ago, and I would hate doing it again now.
“I’ll speak with Tessa again tonight,” I said. “She was trying to tell me something about the mists outside of Albyria, and she seemed to think I might be nearby.”
Toryn frowned. “What do you think that could be about?”
“I have no idea. She didn’t seem alarmed.”
My old friend searched my gaze. “And what about you? Those memories couldn’t have been easy to face again, after all these years.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I face them every fucking day, Toryn. The only difference last night was, Tessa faced them right along with me. And she did not turn away.”
A silent moment passed. And then he said, “We need to find a way to get her out of there.”
“I know.” My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword. “But let’s say we defeat the army and leave straight away. What the fuck am I supposed to do? I can’t cross Oberon’s barrier. There’s no way for me to get to her.”
But I had to find a way. Because I would not let King Oberon bind her to him. If I had to rip that entire chasm apart to get to her, I would.
Twelve
Tessa
“What happened?” Nellie demanded when the guards dumped me on my cot. I winced and flopped onto my side to ease the pressure against my scars. Black still crept into the corners of my vision, but I’d come to when Oberon had ordered the guards to drag my body down the castle corridors in full view of the other fae nobles. Their cruel smiles and shouted jests had followed me all the way to the dungeon.
The guards slammed the cell doors, and instantly, Nellie was by my side, her hand against her mouth as she stared down at my swollen back.
“For the love of light,” she whispered. “What did they do to you?”
“My scars,” I said through gritted teeth. “Oberon put that stuff on them again.”
“He’s a fucking monster,” she hissed.
I lifted my head from the pillow, surprised by the viciousness in my sister’s voice. She’d always been so demure in the face of the fae’s cruelty. While I answered with reckless rage, she responded with meek silence. But the sister who stood before me now was no shrinking violet.
“Those words are music to my ears,” I said with a slight smile. “Just don’t let him hear you say things like that.”
She perched beside me on the bed and took my hand in hers. “Why did he do this to you? I thought he was prepping you for your wedding. All the bathing and the primping. Why has he gone from looking after you to torturing you again?”
“He thinks I’m making the mists come over the bridge.” I pushed up onto my elbow and winced at another flash of pain. “It only started to do that after I came back to Albyria. This was his way of getting me to stop it, I guess.”
Her face paled. “But you’re not the one in control of them. What’s Oberon going to do when the mists don’t stop?”
Good question. And I didn’t want to know the answer. Because when the mists remained, the rage he felt toward me would only escalate. He’d believe that torturing me hadn’t worked. So then he would turn his knives onto someone else.
“We need to get you out of here,” I whispered, flicking my eyes toward the end of the passageway where the guards stood watch. “You and Mother and Val.”
“If I’m leaving, you’re coming, too.” She frowned. “But that’s impossible. We’re locked up in here and those guards never leave their posts. They’d kill us before they’d let us take a single step out of this cell.”
“I need to find a way to beat him at his own game. I just don’t know how to do that yet. There’s still over a week until the wedding, though. I have time.”
“Less than that if he’s going to treat you like this in the meantime.” Nellie’s eyes dropped to my back.“Now let me take a look at your scars. We need to figure out how long it’s going to take you to recover.”
I read between the lines. A fight was coming for us, one way or another. And I needed to be at full strength—what little that was compared to the fae—as soon as possible. If Oberon came for me again, my swollen scars would be the least of my worries.
Wincing, I leaned to the side to expose my back to her. My sister gently lifted my tunic away from my skin and stared down at the wounds for a good long while before she let out a hiss between her teeth. It reminded me of all those times she’d tended to me when we were children. My younger sister, the mother hen.
