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Scrubbing my body in the water, I notice goosebumps forming all over my skin, but the chill is good. It's clearing my head, making my time as a ghost feel further and further away. I try to focus on what was important in that dark time. But all I remember is having a deep sense that Ann was in danger, and that she was falling in love with the shadow beasts.
I could do nothing about the situation. I couldn't help anyone, or change the path my love was on. But now I can, and yet, it still feels like I'm a ghost. Ann ignored me when I tried to keep her away from the battle, then proved me wrong in every way by ending the battle with power I never knew she had inside of her.
My shy fae… has changed.
Still, after she saved them, I naturally assumed we'd be gone, away from this war, and away from these shadow beasts, these creatures of legends. Instead, my mate seems to have no idea who she wishes to be with, nor what path she wants to be on, and that's frustrating as hell. What's more, the shadow beasts don't seem to like me in any way. It’s like they blame me for being in Adrik’s body, for coming to her, for being alive. I never thought it was possible and I sure as fuck don’t understand the magic that made it happen, but I’m here. With Ann. Where I belong.
I don’t know how long the magic will last or if it’s going to fade before I get the chance to see this through. All I know is that I have this chance and I’m going to take it. Being with her is all I want. To make sure she’s safe. Happy. Protected.
But I can feel that she loves the others. If not loves, has feelings for the others.
I can’t tell her it’s wrong. I can’t beg her to be with me because I don’t know what the future will hold. And because, well, I don’t beg.
Even if this whole situation is making me miserable.
When I feel clean enough, I get out of the river and dry under the rising sun. Then, I put the clothes back on, which isn't what I'd prefer. Clean clothes would be far better, but at least these seem to be fresh. And since I'm no longer at my manor, or at the school, I don't have servants to lay out nice clothes or serve delicious meals. This outfit seems like only the first of many adjustments I'll have to make until I can convince Ann that we don't belong here.
Not that I need all the luxuries my life as a powerful royal fae brought me. They’re just nice.
I walk through the woods back to their little cave. It’s quiet, time to think about all the things being back means. If only I could figure out what those things are. I have no idea. Maybe a greater purpose? Maybe because I wanted so badly to be with her? Maybe she wished me back? I don’t know. I just want to figure it out.
“Rayne?” An old man steps out from behind a tree to stop in front of me. I'm so startled by this random man in the woods that it takes me a minute to realize that he didn’t call me Adrik.So he knows who I am.
But I know who he is too. Elder Auero. The man my Ann and her men had gone to for advice. Not quite the leader of the shadow beasts here on earth, but someone that has a wealth of knowledge within him. And someone who, apparently, has the ability to listen to the whispers of shadows, whatever that means.
I straighten my back and square my shoulders. “Yes?”
“A word?” He says it like I have a choice. He’s an old man—really old—blocking my way.
I nod. “Okay.”
He takes a moment, purses his lips, chooses his words. “She’s vulnerable. And you make her more so.”
I don’t know that I like where this thing is going. “I make her vulnerable?”
He nods. “Yes. She has a prophecy to fulfill.”Yeah. I’ve heard about the prophecy. It’s shit.
I release a slow breath. Fae are typically respectful to their elders, but most people, even the elders, knew better than to challenge a Bloodmore. Having a dark fae as a father and a light fae as a mother, most people believed I took after my mother... that I was simply a powerful light fae. But it didn't stop the small look of fear that I sometimes saw in their eyes. Yet, this man doesn't have an ounce of fear in his eyes, which is oddly unsettling.
"The prophecy that she has to accept those three as her mates to save us all?" I scoff. "I'm sorry, but no. This Void, or whatever it is, doesn't have the power to destroy our world. Not for a second. If it did, my people would know about it. This little battle between your own people doesn't really involve Ann and I. So once she accepts that, we'll be out of here, back to our old lives."
There. I wasn’t quite respectful, but I’d tried not to be an ass.
“Let's pretend I agree with you. How long do you think occupying that body is going to last?” He looks me up and down with eyes glazed by disappointment.
"I--" The truth is I don't want to think about it. I am above all else an expert at researching. And through my research I've read many things about ghosts. In the past, ghosts have been able to occupy bodies for a limited time, a day or two at most, but the host is always battling for control. The ghost always eventually loses to the host, and then they're back to just being a ghost. But with me, there is no Adrik left in this body. No one battling me for control. It doesn't feel like I took a body that I can't keep, it feels like my spirit found a new home.
Still, that doesn’t mean I can occupy it forever. But every time the thought blossoms in my mind, I push it aside. Live each day like it’s your last has always been my philosophy, so the fact that any day actually could be, even more realistically now, is not something I’m going to waste my time thinking about. At least, if I can help it.
“Do you want her to be alone?” He’s studying me, waiting for his words to sink in, and I hate that they do.
Ann alone. It’s a sobering thought and one I’d selfishly not considered. “I don’t—I don’t…” I’m stammering like a child. Shaking my head. Fidgeting from one foot to the other. And in this body, the body of a warrior, I probably look ridiculous. And I can’t control it.
“She lost you once, and her heartache might be the reason she’s rejecting the others. Her heartache might be the reason she won’t fulfill the prophecy.” He gives me the look again—blame and disappointment mingling in his eyes, his mouth a tight line, his brow creased. It’s the guilt and the blame that I look away from. “If you don’t set her free, let her do this, you’ve made the choice for her. You’ve taken it out of her hands. You’ve...”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Okay. I get it.”
“I don’t think you do.” He shakes his head and his long white beard sways. “I think you’re selfish. You’re hanging on to a woman who needs to move on.”
