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There were a lot of words I’d use to describe the bar, but impressive was not one of them.
He pushed through the bodies, heading toward a door in the back of the bar, behind the counter. “Stay close, it's just over here.” He nodded to the bartender who watched us with a close eye, and then we pushed through, the noise of the bar immediately fading as we moved, the door slamming shut behind us. I thought it would be another room, but it turned out to be stairs, and we descended, continuing until my calves burned and I was slightly out of breath. I bumped into Callan’s back in front of me as he came to an abrupt stop, Nia doing similarly behind me, and we stumbled.
“Stop moving!” Oliver shouted, as if we had a choice, but Callan steadied, the rest of us following suit.
“What is that?” Callan asked, staring at something I couldn’t see from where I was behind him in the narrow stairwell.
“Do you trust me?” Oliver asked, a glint of excitement in his voice that made me nervous.
“Maybe?” I said after no one spoke. He’d done nothing to give me pause so far, but you could never be too careful.
“Well, if you want to get your memories, then you’re going to have to jump!” His last words faded out as he jumped, his voice echoing slightly around the chamber. I peered past Callan, eyes widening into saucers as I looked at what was in front of us. The stairs had stopped, but not only that, the entire building had stopped. We stood on the precipice of a cliff. Straight ahead and above was open air, but below was a glimmering blanket of clouds, like a heaven-sent forbidden bed.
“I’ll go first. Don’t come down until I tell you it’s okay.” Callan didn’t wait for the sassy response I’m sure he knew I was preparing. I’d let him protect me a little, but bossing me around was an entirely different story. He gave me a stern look before jumping into the clouds below, and I lurched forward with a gasp. I listened hard for a few moments, but Callan never called out.
Fuck.
“Do or die,” Nia said as she slipped past me. She looked down, giving her hips a little shake before she leaped off with a dive that would have made an Olympian proud.
I stepped up to the edge, a cool breeze wafting through my hair and tickling my neck. There was no evidence my companions had even jumped down, the unmarred clouds staring back up at me.Don’t be a bitch. You’re not going to die here.
I took a few steps back, shaking out the nerves in my hands as I gathered my courage. I wasn’t usually bad with heights, but jumping off a cliff with no safety net seemed counterintuitive to my survival. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, giving myself a running start as I leapt with both feet off the stone to what I hoped wasn’t my sudden and preventable death.
Going through clouds was about what I thought walking through a horny ghost would be like: cold and slightly wet. I plummeted, my eyes struggling to see as I whipped downward, tears streaming from the corners of my eyes as I fell, until I just gave up and shut them, accepting my fate. Just when I thought I would go splat, my body seized, as if an invisible force had grabbed me, stopping my momentum. I opened my eyes, looking around with shock.
“I told you she wouldn’t scream,” a tall, handsome Fae said to Oliver, who stood next to him as they all watched me. I hung upside down, but even then, I could see his silver hair, identical to Oliver’s, with artfully coifed curls adorning his head. This was a man who owned a mirror and actually used it.
He waved a hand lazily, and my body flipped upright, my feet gently landing on the ground as I caught my balance. Callan stepped beside me, half-shielding me with his body like the overprotective oaf that he was, but I sidestepped him, wanting to stand on my own two feet.
“Hi, Ollie,” the man said, a charming smile splitting across his face. Confused, I looked at Oliver, thinking he was talking to him, but both of their eyes were trained on me as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Ollie was a nickname for Olette, not Oliver.
He knew me before.
The sparkle in his eyes dimmed a little as he watched for my reaction. “When Oliver told me you’d erased your memories, I can’t say I believed it, but I guess it must be true. What a shame, we used to have a lot of fun together. Before we trapped your mother in the ground and you left me.” He gave me a conspiratorial wink, and Callan shifted uncomfortably beside me. Neither of us liked the familiarity in which he spoke. But there was a layer of hurt to his voice, still fresh and raw even after five hundred years. It made sense that I hadn’t cursed the Queen alone, but why would I have just left him, when I had brought Oliver with me?
“I go by Rowan now,” I told him sternly. Without my memories, Olette didn’t exist. She felt like an outsider, like a case of mistaken identity. I had no idea who she had been, only who I was now. And I didn’t know that we were still the same person, not anymore, after all this time. How could we be?
“Who are you?” I was straight and to the point. I didn’t love the way he’d insinuated we had a history, toying with the information like he had something over me when he knew my memories were gone. What was with everyone and not just giving answers straight up?
“Finn.” He raised a hand in greeting, and it was then that I noticed he only had one arm, his right arm cut off just below the cusp of his shoulder. He wore simple armored leathers, the garments modified so only his intact arm was sleeved. “Finneas Aelous Rosewing, but if you call me Finneas, I will cut you.” That charming smile flashed again, his pearly whites on full display, but there was a level of danger and power behind them that told me he would make good on his threat.
“And what are we to each other, Finneas?”
He smirked, taking a few steps forward toward me, but halted in his tracks as Callan stepped forward with a menacing growl. Finn was tall, but Callan still had him beat, both in height and raw, dangerous energy, and he was wise to stop where he was as he eyed the panther shifter warily.
“Well,Ollie,” he started, matching my energy, “I believe the term you so lovingly liked to hate was betrothed?”
ChapterTwelve
“What?!” Callan’s voice melded with mine as we simultaneously exclaimed our outrage. Finn tilted his head back, a deep laugh escaping him as he looked between us.
“Don’t worry, darling. It was arranged.” He stepped closer to us, steadfastly ignoring the angry, overbearing shifter next to me as he approached. “That’s very common in Fae relationships. Not to say there wasn’t a time where I hoped we might work out, but I can’t say that you shared the same sentiment.”
“Why is it so common?”
It was Nia who gave me clarity. “No one has found their true mate in centuries, so we have arranged marriages to ensure our race continues, and our politics.”
I regarded Finn. He was good-looking, sure, but I didn’t feel attracted to him in the slightest. I would think if the Olette version of myself had a hard-on for him, I would feel some type of way too. Besides, I liked my men with a little more grit, a nice sharp edge of nothing to lose. My eyes strayed to Callan, and I quickly focused back on Finn.Stop it.“What is a true mate?”
