Page 32 of Black Hearted (Cursed Fae #4)

Lorelei

Zane and I traveled another hour on foot before we made camp under a rock shelf at the base of a mountain.

The protruding rock created a natural roof over our heads, which was fortunate because the burning rain was back.

The curse was clearly using the land to try to stop us, but although it was slower going without our horses, we were still making good time.

If the map my mother had given us was to scale, we’d reach the Tree of Transformation by nightfall tomorrow.

I sat by the fire Zane had built, watching as he pulled out smoked meat and dried fruits to prepare a plate for me.

We were still tied together—a precaution Zane insisted on.

After the vine dragged me away, I thought I was done for, separated from him forever, hauled across the forest until my skull was smashed against a rock or tree trunk.

But Zane had chased after me—his voice panicked as he screamed my name.

The way he fought for me revealed his true character, and it made me want to build a life with him. I felt safe with him.

It was a cruel irony to find such a man just days before I was fated to die.

Turning away from Zane, I pulled out the letter again, scanning its contents for what felt like the hundredth time. I prayed I’d misread it or overlooked something—though deep down, I knew there was no hope of that.

When you drink the contents of the vial, your life force will be the price paid to end the curse. This is the ultimate sacrifice.

The words were clear. There was no mistaking them. I would die so that hundreds of thousands could live. This wasn’t just about saving the seelie in Faerie anymore. It was about saving all the souls in Ethereum, too.

“Tell me about your realm,” I said, rolling up the note and slipping it back into my pack. When I looked up, I found Zane watching me intently.

“Ethereum is actually a lot like Faerie,” he said, “in that we have four distinct kingdoms that take on seasonal characteristics, just like your courts here.”

I perked up at that. “Oh? And which season would your land most resemble?”

Please say Spring. Or at least not Winter.

“My land would most closely be associated with Fall.”

I relaxed slightly. Fall wasn’t bad. The Fall Court was stunning with its palette of burnt oranges and vibrant reds.

I had particularly loved the cuisine when I visited a few years ago—sweet potato casserole, chicken pot pie, butternut squash soup.

And the apples! The juiciest I’d ever eaten.

Their cinnamon-and nutmeg-spiced desserts were divine too.

My mouth watered just thinking about it.

Yes, Fall was acceptable. Not that it mattered since I was about to die.

“What are the people like?” I asked, trying to push aside my morose thoughts.

Zane smiled then, his expression softening.

“Amazing. Diverse. We have unseelie as well as seelie fae, and we all work together for the good of the land. Obviously, we have our challenges. Rebel factions pop up from time to time, but for the most part, we live in peace. I was able to hire workers from all four kingdoms to build a train track that links the whole realm. It’s an ongoing project, but it’s already been invaluable for moving refugees to safety. ”

In Faerie, the various courts lived in relative peace with one another, but rarely worked together for the good of the realm as a whole, as Zane described.

In fact, I couldn’t think of a single time in history when the courts had banded together like they were now to fight against the curse.

For the most part, we kept to ourselves.

But now, refugees from the other three courts were living in the Spring Court, the only land still untouched by the curse’s sinister effects.

When this was all over, I didn’t know what our realm would look like anymore. Even if the land was restored to its former glory, I suspected things would be different. Hopefully, for the better.

“Well, I’ll take you there when this is all over,” Zane promised. “My castle chef makes the best chocolate berry cake in the whole realm.”

I gave him a weak smile, but his words only saddened me. I’d never see his realm. I’d never taste that cake.

“I’m tired,” I said, feigning a yawn.

He nodded, handing me my plate of food, and we ate quickly.

Zane tried to spark a conversation, but despite my best efforts to remain engaged, my thoughts grew heavier, pulling me into silence. He seemed to sense my mood and stopped trying to talk.

Tomorrow was probably my last day alive. I wasn’t ready to let go. I wasn’t ready to let him go.

When we finished eating, and fatigue finally tugged at my limbs, I wrapped my cloak around me and nestled close to the fire, trying to find some rest. I glanced up at Zane, who sat next to me, his gaze fixed on the dark forest. He didn’t look like he had any intention of sleeping.

“Will you sleep?” I asked softly.

“Yes. When we end the curse and leave these lands,” he replied without looking at me.

My mouth dropped open. “That could be days from now.”

I was hopeful we’d reach the Tree of Transformation tomorrow, but even then, it would take at least a day or two—if not more—to walk out of this place.

“Then I’ll sleep in a few days,” he declared with a stubborn set to his jaw.

I thought about arguing but quickly realized it wouldn’t do any good. Zane was protective, selfless, the kind of person who put others before himself. He was staying awake to guard me.

And it made me soften to him all the more.

“Wake up, Lorelei.” Zane shook my shoulders, pulling me from sleep. I knew he hadn’t slept because I looked for his door in my dream void, but it never appeared. I’d just been about to walk through my father’s door to say goodbye to him when Zane woke me.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up, bleary-eyed and disoriented. It was still dark, but the full moon cast its bright light down on us, illuminating his features.

The sound of rushing water reached my ears, jolting me fully awake.

“Black water or some sort of oily liquid,” Zane said grimly. “I’ve dealt with this stuff before. It’s nasty. We need to get to higher ground.” He grabbed both of our packs, urgency evident in his movements.

As I quickly donned my bag, I peered into the woods. The black liquid was pooling on the ground, and through the trees, a wave of it was coming straight for us, the moonlight reflecting off its surface.

With a yelp, I jumped to my feet, scrambling to get to Zane.

He held out his hand, and the moment I grabbed it, he clamped down on mine, pulling me along as we rushed up the side of the rock shelf.

But the climb was treacherous. There were no proper handholds or footholds, and every time I found some purchase, my boots slipped.

Zane was having the same trouble, climbing three feet only to slide back two.

We weren’t climbing fast enough. The black liquid surged toward us, splashing against my ankles. I felt a tug on the rope around my waist and glanced over to see Zane untying the knot that bound us together.

“What are you doing?” I asked, panic rising in my chest.

“Just making sure I don’t drag you to your death if this water pulls me away,” he said grimly.

“Don’t let it pull you away!” I shouted, my voice shaking.

The top of the rock shelf was just above my head but still out of reach. I tried again to climb higher, but the oily substance coating my boots made it impossible.

“Permission to grab your waist?” Zane asked, his tone tense.

“Yes,” I cried. This was no time for chivalry.

His firm hands gripped my waist, and he pushed me upward with surprising strength. With a shriek, I scrambled over the top of the ledge I’d been sleeping under only minutes before. Relief, however, was fleeting—Zane was still down below.

“Now you,” I yelled, dropping to my belly and reaching down for him.

The black substance had already reached his knees.

He threw the backpacks onto the shelf and leaped, his hands barely gripping the edge of the overhang. I grabbed his forearms, trying to pull him up, but he was far heavier than I could manage.

The rushing noise intensified, and I glanced up to see the oily liquid raging through the forest like a river, gray foamy rapids slamming into trees and bending them in half.

“Don’t let go,” I shouted over the cacophony.

Zane grunted, kicking his legs in an attempt to push himself up, but one of his hands slipped.

“No!” I screamed, grasping for his missing hand.

My heart pounded as I peered over the edge to see Zane dangling by one hand, the black liquid rising beneath him. If it got much higher, it would sweep him away.

I glanced around desperately, trying to figure out how to help him, when a bolt of lightning wrapped in shadows shot past me, lassoing a tree trunk growing out of the mountainside. I gasped at the sight.

I looked back down at Zane. He still had one hand on the rock shelf, but his other hand held a rope of shadow-encased lightning. His grip seemed strong, but I didn’t see how he was going to pull himself up without letting go of the rock. If he did, he’d swing straight into the cliff face.

“There’s a tree right behind me, about ten yards. If you lasso it, maybe you can pull yourself up.”

He nodded, his face strained, and yelled, “Duck!”

I pressed my cheek to the cool stone, squeezing my eyes shut as he released the rock shelf and shot another bolt of lightning. My heart stopped, fear gripping me. I couldn’t look. I didn’t want to see if he’d fallen.

Then I heard a grunt and labored breathing.

“Zane?” I opened my eyes to see him using his lightning rope to hoist himself onto the rock shelf.

He collapsed beside me, panting and staring at me with an intensity that made my throat tighten.

“I thought you were going to die,” I whispered.

“Not yet,” he said, his tone serious, his eyes locked on mine.

“Not ever,” I murmured, meaning every word.

He climbed to his feet with effort, his expression shifting. “We need to get to higher ground,” he said, his voice flat.

A sinking feeling settled in my stomach. Something had shifted in him, something I didn’t understand. And I didn’t like it.