Page 22 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

ODESSA, PRESENT

I ’ve made a huge mistake.

That’s all I can think as I wait for Kastian to fall asleep so I can slink back upstairs to my room.

It’s all I can think about when I climb into my bed, still half undressed, and it’s all I can think about in the morning, when the sun rises and I’m still wide awake.

I ruminate on my overwhelming stupidity as I bathe and dress, choosing a high-necked gown to cover the obvious bruises on my throat where Kastian sucked on my pulse.

Then, I berate myself some more for being so incredibly weak while I pack clothing into a trunk and drag it out into the hallway for the servants to help carry downstairs.

I knew sleeping together wouldn’t break the tension between Kastian and me, and sure enough, I was right. The pulsing need that I’ve been stubbornly ignoring for months now has only magnified, and my self-loathing is at an all-time high.

I should have known better.

No, I did know better. So what’s wrong with me? Was this just curiosity?

The last time I saw Kastian, we were practically kids. We’ve never gotten this far before, and I didn’t know how good it would be. Now, a large part of me wishes I could go back to not knowing.

And then there are the wings…

Fuck, the wings.

I feel so incredibly stupid that I sink to the ground beside my trunk, practically collapsing amidst the mess of discarded clothing on the rug. I have to resist the urge to bang my head against the top of my trunk.

The Fae—both male and female—only show their wings when their life is in danger or around their bonded partners.

Seeing any Fae’s wings during intimacy always means the beginning of a bond is forming, but the sex alone shouldn’t have triggered it—that’s never happened with any other Fae male I’ve slept with, and it shouldn’t have happened last night.

Kastian and I are not bonded.

We didn’t form a soul-bond all those years ago, and there’s no reason it should happen now.

Not when this version of Kastian could never feel anything but lust for me.

This version hardly knows anything about me—I’ve made absolutely sure of that.

I’ve been nothing but unpleasant and aloof toward him, so how could this happen?

Maybe it’s a residual reaction—some phantom feeling from years ago that he can’t actually explain?

That must be it, but that only means I’ve made an even bigger mistake than I could have imagined.

If this goes any further, everything I did will be for nothing.

I’ll be back exactly where I was a century ago, and this time there won’t be anyone there to fix it.

I won’t get a third chance.

Suddenly resolute in what I have to do, I jump to my feet. It’s still close to dawn, and hardly anyone will be awake yet. I’ll need to leave for Hydratta now, before anyone notices I’m gone. Maybe by the time I come back, this lapse in sanity between Kastian and me will have fizzled itself out.

It’s a pathetic lie, even in my head, and I don’t believe it…but I have to pretend, anyway. Otherwise, there’s no hope for either of us.

Deciding not to wait for the servants to carry my trunk, I leave my room and grip one handle to drag it down the hall myself. I barely make it a few feet before I’m groaning with the effort. I packed far too much, and outside the water I’m not much stronger than the average human.

I hold my skirt with one hand and grit my teeth as I tug the trunk to the end of the hall.

I practically whimper when I look down the long flight of stairs.

If I drag this all the way down to the first floor, the bumping of the heavy trunk against the steps will wake the entire house before I’ve even reached the second landing.

“Do you need some help?”

I whirl around, my hand flying to my chest.

Aurelia is leaning against the wall behind me, sucking on what looks like a blue flower stem.

She has tied her dark hair in two loose braids and is again wearing a combination of Fae and human clothing—wide-legged linen trousers, riding boots, and a white T-shirt that I assume Alix gave her.

It says “A LOT GOING ON AT THE MOMENT” in big black and red lettering.

“You scared me,” I grumble, sinking onto the top of my trunk to catch my breath.

“You startle easily lately,” she observes, pulling the flower stem out of her mouth with a pop.

I frown. She’s not wrong. I guess being constantly on high alert for the last year has made me jumpy. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” I mutter. “It’s early.”

“You didn’t. I never went to sleep. I’ve been working on a new idea all night.”

I nod in understanding. The door that connects her tower room to the main house is also on the third floor, but seeing as she hardly leaves the tower anymore, I didn’t expect to see her here.

Aurelia twirls the blue flower stem between her fingers, and my gaze catches on it. “What is that?”

“It’s a ghostleaf orchid,” she replies, frowning down at it. “I need it for a potion, but I can’t stop sucking on them instead. They taste like marshmallows. Want one?”

“Um, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself. So anyway, did you want help with that?”

I look from her to the trunk. Aurelia might look tiny, but she’s full-blooded Fae and actually much stronger than me. She’s also talented at magic and often makes things fly around the house without warning.

“Sure,” I say, heaving a breath. “Thanks.”

She puts the blue flower back in her mouth, then flicks her index finger at the trunk, making it rise into the air light as a feather. I trail along after her as she directs the trunk down the many flights of stairs.

“Why didn’t you wait for someone to help with this?” she asks.

“Shhh,” I hiss. “Keep your voice down.”

She laughs, but lowers her voice when I shoot her another deathly glare.

“Are you trying to leave before any of us notice?” she whispers.

“Please don’t say anything.”

She shrugs. “It’s not my business. I would avoid the kitchen though if I were you. Beatrix is already awake.”

“Thank you.” I sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to say goodbye to anyone, it’s?—”

She waves me off, and her motion makes my trunk sway wildly through the air toward the wall before she stops it at the last second. “Oops. I need to work on talking with my hands. Anyway, I was just going to say I get it. I wouldn’t want to see anyone after last night either.”

My eyes bug out of my head. “Excuse me?”

She laughs again. “Oh, please. This is an entire house full of people with Fae ears, and frankly you were loud enough that I bet even Alix heard everything.”

I take a deep breath through my nose and close my eyes. “Perfect.”

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and Aurelia puts my trunk down near the front door. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like the rest of us haven’t snuck out of someone’s room early in the morning.”

I look sideways at her. Whose room is she sneaking out of? And who is “the rest of us” supposed to refer to? I desperately want to know, but I want to avoid getting caught more. Priorities.

“Right,” I say with a deep breath. “Well, you’ll have to fill me in on that when I get back.”

“Of course.” She smiles secretively and pops the flower back out of her mouth before holding it out to me. “You should take this.”

I wrinkle my nose in disgust and lean back from the unpleasantly wet stem. “I’m alright, but thank you.”

She shoves it at me. “Seriously, take it. There’s a reason it’s called a ghostleaf orchid.

If you swallow it, you’ll turn invisible.

You never know when you might need to make a quick escape…

or sneak out of the house unnoticed. Just make sure you chew really well.

You have to break the fibers down for it to work. Otherwise, it just tastes good.”

I frown at it, then take the wet stem gingerly with two fingers, already sure that I won’t be putting it anywhere near my mouth. “Thanks.”

She waves a dreamy hand in the air. “You’re welcome. Safe travels.”

I turn back, wondering if I should ask her to let Alix and Daemon know where I went, then change my mind at the last second. I’m sure they’ll work it out on their own…but hopefully not before I’ve crossed the border out of Vernallis.

E lio, the emissary from Hydratta, spent the night in a private room in the barracks. I really don’t want to creep into his bedroom so early, but I will if I have to. I’d do just about anything to get out of here unseen.

Fortunately, that’s not necessary.

As I near the barracks, the tension in my shoulders eases, and I exhale deeply, relief washing over me. The short, balding man is already stepping out of the building. He halts mid-step, his eyes narrowing as they lock onto me, acknowledging my approach.

“Good morning, Lady Odessa,” he says with a deep bow.

“Just Odessa,” I correct, wringing my hands in my skirt. “Listen, by any chance are you ready to leave?”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Now? It’s barely dawn.”

“You’re already awake, though.”

He coughs. “Yes, well, I was just hoping to find some breakfast, and…” he trails off, looking startled as I step closer.

I’ve already decided what I’m going to do if he doesn’t want to leave without saying a formal goodbye to the court, so I waste no time waiting for him to finish his sentence.

“I want to leave right now,” I say with a persuasive note in my voice.

“We don’t need to wait to say goodbye to anyone, and no one else is coming with us.

You should go saddle the horses. Nothing would make you happier. ”

The emissary blinks at me, and I swear I can see him fighting the compulsion. Gods, it would be just my luck that the emissary turns out to have a stronger will than nearly every other man on the continent.

“Please?” I add, a little desperate.

Elio’s eyes slide out of focus, and he blinks up at me with a vacant expression. “As you wish.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Go fetch the horses and my trunk. I’ll wait for you here.”

“As you wish,” he mumbles again, already shuffling off toward the stables.

I heave another sigh and settle onto a coarse wooden bench by the barracks entrance to wait.

I should probably follow the emissary to ensure the compulsion doesn’t wear off before we’ve left, but I don’t want it to become too strong. I wasn’t trying to hurt him. Hopefully, in an hour he’ll be back to normal and won’t remember why we left so abruptly.

Even so, I can’t shake the nagging sense of guilt.

Over the past hundred years, I’ve scarcely resorted to compulsion more than a handful of times, yet here I am, having used it twice just this week.

Even if it’s wrong to bewitch the Emissary into helping me, it’s not nearly as wrong as the harm I could cause if I stay here. The harm I could inadvertently cause to Kastian, and to myself.

The rational part of me insists that the end justifies the means. After all, it’s not like I’m causing any lasting damage…

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.