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“Youwerebetrothed?” I manage, my voice small and distant. “As in, not anymore?”
He watches me closely, his brows crease in thought, like he’s putting his own puzzle together. “My betrothed died the night of the Blood Moon.”
I stop my pacing. He thoughtIdied the night of the Blood Moon.
“When I was very young,” he continues. “I went with my father on a diplomatic trip to Crystal Falls, to discuss treaties with the magic using nations. When the youngest Tanaris and I met, we got along so well that when they tried to separate us, we cried and cried. They took it as a sign, and it was decided that we would be betrothed as a symbol of the new peace. It was decided that we would spend the first half of our childhood with the humans at Stonemount Keep, and the second half with the fae at Crystal Falls. For safety reasons, we’d be glamoured when in the other’s lands so that no one would know of our true identity. It wasn’t so hard to glamour the youngest Tanaris because she mostly took after her father anyway, and he wasn’t fae, he was—”
“A sorcerer,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Tell me the name of your betrothed.”
He closes the distance and takes my face in his now trembling hands. “My turn to ask,” he says, his voice thick. He swallows. “What’syourname?”
I think about everything we’ve been through together. As children, we were inseparable. All the years after I fled the castle, I felt a part of me was missing. The truth is, something broke in me the night of the Blood Moon and no matter how much I tried to build a wall to hide it, it’s been there, but it was Daimis’s voice that pulled me from the darkness that first day we were reunited. It was he who helped me get past my fear of confined spaces. He chased the nightmares away and somehow still understands me like no one else has. We found our friendship once again, and more. . . He’s helped me heal those broken parts, but the final broken part is telling him who I really am. Some part of him must know.
“Sahra,” I whisper. A tear falls. “It’s me, Daimis.I’mSahra Devoe.”
“Sahra?” His body stiffens and his brows crease. He pulls his hands away and steps back, shaking his head. Confusion deepens his brows. “No. No that makes no sense. Sahra died that night. I saw her body. Why are you doing this?”
My heart breaks at the torment on his face. The last thing I want is to cause him any more pain. I can tell part of him wants to believe me, knows the truth in it, but how can he deny what he thinks he saw with his own two eyes?
“Whatexactlydid you see? Describe what happened that night after I—Sahra ran.”
He closes his eyes and rubs his hands over his face. “I fought with everything I had to keep the Steel Guard from following her. I never should’ve let her hand go. I should’ve run with her. Then maybe. . .
“Daimis, what happened next?”
“The guards overpowered me. Even when they carried me away, I still fought. I was determined to keep her from meeting the same fate as her father. The Regent told me she had attacked the Steel Guard with magic, and they had no choice but to defend themselves and she was killed. When I didn’t believe him, he brought me to an open yard where the dead were stacked up, covered in white sheets—so many sheets. He brought me to one that was smaller than the rest. Sahra’s long blond hair, red with blood, spilled out from under the red-stained cloth.”
“It wasn’t me,” I say. Then I remember one other girl who lived in the castle who had similar blond hair. I gasp as the truth hits me. “The gardener’s daughter, Beth. They killed her to make you think it was me.”
The Regent must have known Daimis would never stop fighting for me. He must have known that the only way to get Daimis to calm down, to control him, was to take away his hope. It was cruel and it included killing an innocent girl and her family. The Regent will pay for his crimes one day, I swear it.
“Daimis, I lied before when I told you I ran into Beth and her family on the road. I haven’t seen her since before the night of the Blood Moon. I just used that excuse to explain away how I knew so much about the castle.”
“So, my choices here are either you’ve been lying to me all this time, or you’re lying to me now?” He runs his hand over his hair. “Which lie do I believe?”
I don’t say anything else. Instead, I pull out the small, worn and stained folded note, my pendant, and a simple jade ring and hold them out to him, my hands shaking. Daimis’s eyes narrow in on the items. He slowly closes the distance and takes them from me.
“I could never part with them—not even when I was starving on the streets.”
He unfolds the paper. I wait, holding my breath as he reads it. His eyes widen when he realizes what he’s holding. When he’s done, he looks down at the pendant and ring resting in his palm. As he stares at the two pieces of jewelry, his hands tremble.
I tentatively take the ring and slide it onto my pinky. Now that he knows the truth, I may never take it off again. “All this time,” I choke out. “Not a day passed that I didn’t think of you.”
He folds the paper and hands it and the necklace back to me.
I tuck them back into my pocket, wondering what he might be thinking right now. Does he believe me? Does he hate me? I wouldn’t blame him if he does. “When you never showed at the fountain—”
“Only Sahra knew we were going to meet at the fountain,” he says.
I nod. “I waited two days. I was cloaked, I waited, hoping you would come. When you didn’t show, I thought you hated me for what my father did.”
Daimis’s face crumbles and he shakes his head, his eyes gathering water. “I couldneverhate you.” His gaze drinks me in and for the first time in a very long time, he’s looking at the real me. He reaches out to trace his fingers over my face, leaving heat in their wake, over my brow, my lips, wiping the tears from my cheeks. His eyes then focus once again on mine. “Sahra,” he breathes my name. “My Sahra.” He slides his hand into my hair and brings his lips to mine.
We kiss, an unrelenting passion that both claims and gives, that’s everything and yet not enough. Daimis is my past, my future, my home. Every second with him as the real me heals us both. We end the kiss and rest forehead to forehead, breathing deeply, both exhausted and energized with emotion.
After a moment, Daimis lifts his head and runs his fingers through my dark hair. “You were glamoured when we were kids, so no one would suspect the fae in you. It must have worn off over the years. It’s no wonder I couldn’t recognize you. I only knew your glamour. No more blond hair, no more freckles, your face has matured, and your beauty is like a fae’s.” His gaze finds mine. “But your eyes, they’re the same. I knew it, but I excused it away. But it makes so much sense now. I’m sorry it took me so long, but I see you now.” He places his hands on either side of my face. “I seeyou.”
His words are everything. He pulls me into an embrace, and I hold him so tight. “I missed you so much,” I manage through my tears.
