Page 28 of Beyond the Winter Kingdom (Faeted Seasons #2)

I narrowed my gaze, assessing his posture.

“I suppose in all that spare time you have between fucking every maiden in Faerie that lifts her skirts and fucking off on accepting any type of royal duties or royal presence, you were intensely studying the vastly unknown history of Eversus and Evorsus? How could that be so when there is so little information documented? Enlighten me, Damon, please. Go on.”

He crossed his arms and looked off into the distance. “You’re right. What evidence could I possibly have, Uncle? Sounds like you have it all figured out.”

“I didn’t think hell could get worse,” Sadie said, elbowing Meera in the side as she broke into our conversation. “But apparently, family tension does the trick. Who knew?”

“We should keep moving,” Damon muttered, walking ahead without waiting for a response. He brushed past Sadie, and she didn’t even take the opportunity to start giving him a hard time. Instead, she tilted her head and considered me, then turned and followed his path.

“Was that really necessary?” Meera asked softly as we followed several paces behind them. She gestured toward my nephew. The muscles in his shoulders and upper back were bunched together and tense. His footsteps were heavier; his speed quicker.

“To point out his lack of respect for his position? Absolutely.”

“You’re still moody with me, and don’t want to deal with it, so you take it out on him. Got it. Good talk.” Meera huffed, moving her feet a little faster to put space between us.

I scrubbed my hands down my face and growled in frustration, loud enough for all three of them to turn and glare at me over their shoulders. Sadie pressed her finger to her lips, shushing me. If I wasn’t careful, she’d be the only of them still willing to talk to me by the end of this.

The silence was going to kill me. I spent too much time alone with my thoughts as we walked for hours. The broken moon shards cast an eerie light over us. The farther we went, the quieter the forest became, like even the monsters knew better than to linger in these parts.

Every now and then, one of us would stumble.

Sadie the least, Meera the most, though she tried to hide it with a grimace.

I started looking for another walking stick for her when I saw she was limping.

Not badly, but it was still noticeable. She refused my offered hand.

The stubborn fire in her eyes still burned but was gradually dimming like the mushroom lanterns from the pastel nightmare.

She was done. We all were.

We found shelter in a hollowed cliff side. A crooked mouth of rock opened into a shallow cave. It was deep enough to provide shelter, dry enough to sleep, and only smelled mildly of sulfur. Compared to the clearing, this was a generous space. We might actually be safe for the night.

Sadie dropped down near the mouth. “I’ve got first watch,” she said, cracking her knuckles like she was settling into a fight. “I slept like a baby in the bear village. It only seems fair.”

I didn’t argue. I wanted Meera alone.

“You sure?” Damon asked. He stood next to her at the front as he scanned the forest.

Sadie grinned at him, then shot him a wink when he looked in her direction. “Are you volunteering to keep me company, princeling?”

“No, I was asking to be polite,” Damon responded.

“He’ll keep watch with you,” I said, clapping my nephew on the back harder than necessary.

Damon’s head whipped toward me. “Why exactly will I be doing that?”

“You’re not injured, that’s why.” I took Meera’s backpack and began to rummage through it, looking for something I could use as a light before muttering, “Is there a candle in here? Something?”

Damon grimaced. “I’ve got bruised ribs from cliff jumping and blisters the size of?—”

“Your ego?” Sadie said under a cough.

Meera pointed to a side pocket. Inside were strangely shaped sticks, and I didn’t know what to do with them.

I handed one to her silently, and she bent it in half.

A crack sounded before the stick filled with an unnaturally yellow glow.

She shook it and gave it back to me as it started to glow a little brighter.

Returning my attention to Damon, I said, “We don’t know what else is lurking out there. Best to have two pairs of eyes. You’re still standing on your own two feet.” With that, I shot a pointed look toward Meera, whose limp had worsened severely over the last hour or so. “You’ll manage.”

“C’mon. You can keep me awake with your whining,” Sadie said with a smirk, patting the ground next to her.

Their bickering followed us into the cave as I led Meera toward the darker end, further from the mouth and whatever might still be listening outside.

The space narrowed, the ceiling dipping lower, and the shadows grew thicker, our only source of light providing a sickly color as it illuminated her face.

Meera sat on the cold stone, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes vacant and fixed on nothing.

I knelt. There was too much lingering between us. Too many unspoken words.

“Why?” I finally said.

She didn’t move. “Why what, Vareck?” Her voice was quiet, not meek, but lacking emotion.

If not for the faint trembling of her injured foot, I’d wonder if she were being obstinate.

I was pretty sure that wasn’t the case, given her physical symptoms had been worsening over time.

We were all exhausted, but this realm seemed to be taking a toll on Meera more so than the rest of us.

I studied her face. She had dirt on her cheek. The river water had dried in her hair, leaving frizzy copper ringlets framing her flushed face. Hazel eyes flicked toward me, tired and guarded.

In an ideal world, I could wait to address it. We didn’t live in the ideal, especially not now. Our reality was bleak. It was literally hell.

“Why did you jump?”

Her jaw tightened. Teeth bit down into her plump bottom lip. “I didn’t want to be eaten.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

She released her bottom lip to purse them together instead. “You’re still mad.”

I think it went without saying I was furious, but I wanted an explanation for her actions, not to belabor my anger. “I’m trying here, Meera.”

She sighed. “I jumped because Sadie did. Because the options were that or being eaten, and I’d rather take my chances with the unknown when the other option is certain death.”

I sighed, taking a seat next to her. “I was trying to tell you to stop. I thought we were on the same page. I’m trying to keep you safe. I don’t compel you; you don’t do anything stupid. Then you went and jumped off a cliff.”

“I’m not a toddler whose hand you need to hold so I don’t walk into the street.”

“Honestly, that’s a great comparison.” I rubbed at my temples to soothe the growing tension that knotted together.

Meera’s brows furrowed and her nostrils flared. “The river caught us, Vareck. What is the big deal?”

Dropping my hands, I rested my forearm against my thigh for support, and I sighed. “Because of Damon. The river only caught you that way because of Damon.”

She blinked, quietly trying to make sense of my response. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Had he not intervened,” I said, my words sharper than I intended, “you’d have hit the water like stones dropped from the castle towers. That cliff was easily three hundred feet. You would have broken every bone in your body on impact. Do you understand that?”

“What? No?—”

“You felt that gust right before you hit the water? That was him. He jumped after you two and redirected your momentum. He’s an air elemental, remember?” I wiggled my fingers in a weak attempt to mimic his power. “Slowed you both enough that you didn’t break when you hit the water.”

Meera stared at me, color draining from her face. Her mouth opened then closed. I’d stunned her. In a quiet voice she asked, “How’d you know it was that steep?”

“I scented the water too, but just looking at it was enough to know it was too high. It was an abyss. Then I flew down after you counting every second, but I was too slow. I know how fast I can fly, and I wasn’t going to make it.

If not for Damon, you both would have died.

If you were lucky, it would have been on impact and not because your body was broken and you slipped beneath the water and drowned. ”

“That’s why you’re mad,” she said eventually. “Because we could have died. I could have died.”

I nodded. “I almost lost you. Again. You didn’t listen when I told you not to jump, and this was right after we had the conversation about me being able to fly.”

Meera’s voice was small, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not looking for an apology.”

“Then what are you looking for?” she said, frustrated now.

“I just want you to listen. To understand. Do you think I wanted us to get attacked? Eaten? Of course not. Why would I tell you to stop if it puts you in more danger? What would be the point of that?”

She sighed. “Fair enough.”

“We’re partners, Meera. At least, I think we are. And partners listen to each other.”

She seemed to accept what I’d said, but then she crossed her arms, and her body language said otherwise. “Do partners also walk away? Because you did.”

“I had to.” She raised her brows in annoyance, urging me to continue.

“I’ve seen what happens when people don’t.

” My voice dropped, weighted and heavy with the memories that flooded me.

“Maeve and Drayden. Their fights were legendary. Explosive. No boundaries, no brakes. And the last thing they ever said to each other before she died—” I shook my head, not wanting to repeat it.

“Those words couldn’t be taken back. No apologies.

No atonement. No forgiveness. Just unending grief.

It tore a hole in Drayden’s heart in which he has never recovered from, and never will. ”

Her body went still beside me, the tension she held in her shoulders loosening. In a barely audible whisper, she breathed, “Oh ...”

“When I walked away,” I continued, “it wasn’t because I didn’t care. It was because I care deeply. And I was angry. Too angry to say anything worth hearing.”

Meera leaned her head back against the wall. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I.” Gods, that was the fucking truth. “But I’m trying. I don’t always know what I should do, but I have seen firsthand what not to do.”

“I’m trying too, Vareck.”

I turned to face her. “Are you?”

She hesitated, then nodded once. “It may not seem like it, but I am.”

In our moment of silence, Sadie’s voice drifted through the cave mouth. “If anything crawls in here, I call dibs.”

Damon groaned. “On what?”

“On its teeth,” she said cheerfully.

Meera smiled softly, and I let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh.

It wasn’t peace.

But it was something.

We sat there in the dark, the broken moon and its twin casting pale light into the mouth of the cave.

The jagged shadows made her look ethereal.

I held my hand out, palm up, and placed it on her thigh.

Placing her hand in mine, our fingers laced together, and I brought our joined hands to my lips, placing a kiss gently on her skin.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I said, so quietly I wasn’t sure I meant to say it out loud.

She squeezed my hand and turned slightly to meet my eyes.

“You won’t.”