Page 35 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“Half-Fae,” Ayden corrects.

“I don’t believe it,” I whisper.

“No?” Ayden’s brow quirks. “Think about it, love. Has Aurelius ever done something he shouldn’t have been able to? Displayed stronger than possible Gifts or abilities?”

I bite my lower lip, hesitant to travel down this path. “He shredded through my leathers like they were made of paper.”

Aurelius smirks at the memory. “I’ve always been strong.”

“You smell and hear things that others don’t,” I add.

“Like what?” Rowina asks.

“Nothi—”

“I can smell when she’s aroused,” Aurelius says unashamedly.

I rub my temples to assuage the growing headache this male creates for me. “Among other things,” I mumble, avoiding eye contact.

“Face it, brother, you are related to Elythia,” Rowina says.

“But how do you know she’s my grandmother?” Aurelius asks.

Ayden drums his fingers against the polished wood table. “Call it an educated guess.”

A beat of silence passes.

My brow furrows, a memory of something I read resurfacing. “The third child?”

“Ah, not quite,” he replies. “That child was also named Elythia, and she died in Prudia nearly four hundred years ago.”

Confusion mars both my and Aurelius’ faces.

Then I remember the book on the Mordet family lineage. “Her name was in The Genealogy of House Mordet.”

“Yes,” Ayden confirms. “Not much is known about her, other than at some point she returned from Tierna and ended up marrying the prince of Prudia, to then later become queen.”

“So, then you two…” My eyes dart between Ayden and Rowina. “Are also part Fae.”

Ayden nods. “Less so than Aurelius, but we do have Fae blood.”

“How do you think we got to be so beautiful and charming?” Rowina asks, waggling her eyebrows.

“That explains so much.” I laugh.

“Yet I still have so many questions,” Aurelius says.

I page through Elythia’s journal. “This altered history, is it why the Fae disappeared?”

“This is why Elythia left, but I do not believe that is why all Fae vanished,” Ayden says, flipping the book in front of me to a new section. “If I had to guess, I would say it had more to do with this.”

“The prophecy of crimson and shadows,” I read aloud.

“Born of blood and bone

A son of two kingdoms

Forged of sorrow and shadow

A daughter of secrets

When two become one

The flames will drown in salt

The crimson prince and the queen of shadows will fall

When the darkness comes

The royal line will know her fury

And the world will feel the sorrow of shadows”

“The crimson prince and the queen of shadows will fall,” Aurelius murmurs.

My stomach churns at the familiarity of those words. “That’s the warning note that was left pinned to Julian’s body.”

“You’re sure it was those exact words?” Ayden asks, his voice tightening.

The image of Julian’s decaying body nailed to a cross was seared into my mind, etched there permanently, waiting for me behind every blink, every breath. “I’m sure.”

Ayden remains quiet, but the look he gives me—sharp, calculating, deeply concerned—says more than words.

Later, when the others have long since left the library, Ayden grips my shoulders, leaning down so close I can feel the weight of his stare.

“Love, it’s time for you and me to have a talk.”

“I’m exhausted from talking, Ayden,” I sigh, closing my book and pushing it away. My limbs feel heavy, my heart heavier.

“That’s fine,” he says, shoving an apple into my hands. “Eat and I’ll talk while you listen.”

Too tired to argue, I take a bite. The sweet, tart juice floods my mouth, and I nearly groan aloud at how good it tastes after hours of sitting still.

“Your second Gift is weak,” Ayden blurts out.

I freeze, still mid-bite, leveling a glare at him over the apple.

“I don’t—” I start, but he snorts, cutting me off.

“You can’t deny it, darling. I assume it’s not common knowledge, if your reaction is anything to go off.”

My jaw tightens. “And what do you think this supposed second Gift is?”

“I caught your projection the day you ransacked my rooms for evidence.” He leans back casually, like we’re discussing the weather.

I try to play it off, taking another slow bite. “I don’t know what you mean, Prince. I was in that room the entire time.”

“No, you weren’t.” Ayden levels me with a serious look, daring me to challenge him. “Not really. One moment you were sitting at a table, then you were on the floor.”

I sigh, knowing I’ve been caught. “What do you want, Ayden?”

“Answers.”

“Fine.” I set the apple down. “Outside of this room, only Elijah and Jade know about my Vizie Gift. I can astral project.”

His eyes narrow slightly, thoughtful. “You’re so talented with shadows. Why haven’t you mastered this?”

“Insensitive, much?”

“You’re not a sensitive female, love. Stop pretending my words hurt you.”

Despite myself, I let out a short laugh. “The Gift came much later than my shadows. I was twenty-two. My only teacher was… my father.”

The admission makes me feel weak.

“So why didn’t he?” Ayden asks, brushing over the fact that I revealed a secret very few knew.

My father’s Gifts were rare and kept hidden.

His earth-wielding was common knowledge.

What fewer knew about were his other abilities.

One of them being astral projection. When he was betrothed to my mother, it caused quite the uproar amongst the nobility since almost none of them knew he even possessed a second Gift, let alone a third.

“He had started, but we had so little time to train, and it was never high on the priority list. Then he… died.”

A long pause.

“I’m sorry, Breyla, but that’s unacceptable,” Ayden says softly, but firmly.

My eyes snap to his. “Excuse me?”

“I refuse to let you settle for less than your full potential.”

“I have no one to help, Ayden.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he says, grinning now. “I can help you.”

Suspicion floods me. “More secrets, Prince?”

He pulls me to my feet. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You can astral project?”

“Not exactly.” He steps behind me, wrapping one arm lightly around my waist. “Close your eyes.”

Against better judgment, I obey. “Now what?”

“You still feel me wrapped around you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Open your eyes.”

When I do, he’s standing in front of me and still wrapped around me from behind. I gasp, reaching out to touch his face and find he’s solid.

“What is this?” I whisper.

“It’s an illusion, darling.” His form in front of me smirks, while the arm at my waist gives a playful squeeze.

“But you’re solid,” I sputter. “How?”

“Part Fae, remember? That makes me special.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re something alright.”

“I’m being serious. Mine and Rowina’s Gifts are stronger than most because of our blood. I can cast multiple illusions at once and control whether they are corporeal or not.”

“Holy shit,” I breathe.

“I thought you might say that.”

“This is amazing, but how are you going to help me? They aren’t the same Gift.”

“No, they aren’t the same,” he agrees. “But they’re similar enough that I can. And you need all the help you can get.”

I shove my elbow into his stomach behind me, making him grunt. “Don’t be rude. It’s unbecoming of a prince.”

“You are the definition of what is unbecoming for a princess,” he retorts easily.

“Now you’re just being crass.”

“No, I’m being honest. Neither of us really cares what’s unbecoming for our station, now do we?”

I huff a reluctant laugh. “I hate that we have anything in common.”

“Stop lying, Princess.” His illusion in front of me disappears, and he releases me, stepping away.

“So, how are you going to help me?”

“First, I’ll train you how to recognize illusions.”

“What are the signs?”

“There aren’t any.” Ayden smirks, his eyes dancing with delight.

I roll my eyes. “Well, that certainly makes things easier.”

“It’s more about feeling your environment, listening to your intuition and gut when they tell you something is off.”

“I don’t know if I trust my intuition right now.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your intuition, Breyla,” Ayden says, tone firm. “The problem is you’ve been ignoring it.”

I hate it, but I know he’s right.

“My head says not to trust you, but my intuition disagrees.”

“Good. Never blindly trust anyone.” He grins. “You can trust me with this, though.”

I hesitate, then nod. “Let’s try, then. Give me an illusion and let me see if I can tell the difference.”

“Close your eyes.”

I comply, waiting for him to give me a signal to open them.

After a few moments, he says, “Open.”

When I open them again, he holds two identical parchment rolls in each hand. I reach out and run my fingers over both. They feel identical, and I see no visible differences.

I’m at a loss and make a guess, grabbing the one in his right hand. “This one?” I ask.

“No,” he says, and the illusion evaporates.

We try three more times, and I get one of them right, but it’s pure luck, and he knows it. I have no idea which one is the illusion.

“Come on, Breyla,” Ayden says, pushing. “I know you can do this.”

I try again. I fail again.

“I’m exhausted,” I groan, throwing my hands up. “This is pointless.”

“No, this is not pointless. This is crucial.”

“Why, though? Why is it so important for me to know this?” My gut is telling me there is something else going on, something he’s not telling me.

“It could save your life someday.”

“Whatever,” I yawn. “I’m done for the night.”

“Take this seriously,” Ayden snaps, sharper than I’ve ever heard from him.

“I am taking this seriously!” I shout back. “But I’m exhausted and mentally depleted after everything. I’ve hit my limit today. ”

“I’m sorry, love.” His face softens, voice dropping. “That was a bit harsh of me. I understand you’re tired, so we’ll resume this in a few days.”

“Thank you,” I nod, half in apology. Another yawn escapes me.

“How about I make a deal with you?” he says suddenly.

I eye him curiously. “What kind of deal?”

“Starting tomorrow, I’ll start using illusions around you. For every one you catch, you get a piece of your clothing back.”

“Deal,” I say immediately.

“I’m not done yet. Be careful how quickly you agree to things,” he says, holding up his hand. “Think about all our encounters in the past. If you can correctly name all the times I used one around you, then I’ll return your entire trunk.”

“This seems like a pretty lucrative deal for me.”

His eyes sparkle with mischievousness. “For every time you miss an illusion or are wrong, you owe me a kiss. On the lips, to be specific.”

“I suddenly like this deal a lot less,” I grunt.

“Your choice, Princess.” He smirks. “Do you want your pants back?”

I hesitate for only a second. “My intuition says this is an incredibly bad idea.”

“Are you going to start listening to it?” Ayden asks.

“Not on this,” I sigh. “I hate these dresses and want my clothing back too damn bad. You have a deal.”

He leans in closer, tilting my chin up to him. “You know, we typically seal deals in Prudia with a kiss.”

I dodge out of range before he can try. “Not a chance, asshole. I’m going to bed,” I call over my shoulder as I head for the door.

Behind me, his laughter follows.