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Chapter twenty-four

I t took days of me waking up in excruciating pain only to be drugged back to sleep before the ache from the change in each cell of my body started to dwindle. Each time, Nickolai was beside me, ready to take it all away upon a moment's notice.

Those few days felt like they had been years before I was finally able to open my eyes, awakening to a dull soreness throughout my body that was still painful but manageable.

My whole body was anew, from my legs that were slightly longer to my ears that were now in a pointed shape.

I had so many questions constantly going through my mind, but I couldn’t think beyond the grief that had finally consumed me.

The grief that was supposed to have killed me.

My gaze fell upon Nickolai, who sat slumped in the chair beside the bed in a haze.

He looked so tired. So defeated. For months I’d partially blamed him for the death of our son.

If he had stayed, if he had been there. .

. Tears welled up in my eyes as I for the first time imagined him with our son in his arms—the smile that would fill each of their faces.

“You would’ve loved him,” I voiced on a sob.

His eyes shifted to mine, shock filling them at finding me awake again—and at my words. He didn’t say anything as he took in my statement, letting it sink in. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was low and unwavering, “What was his name?”

My chin quivered as I said, “Aedon.”

It was the first time I’d said his name, the first time I’d let myself truly think of him since that day. A sharpness pierced through my chest at the memory, triggering another stream of tears.

Nickolai dropped his head. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“I. . .” I started. My mouth was ready to tell him the reason, to tell him that I thought it would break me, but the realization of what I was about to say hit me. It didn’t seem like enough. Like there would never be a good enough reason for anything I did because he should have known.

“Tell me,” his tone was cold, dropping any amount of care.

Staring at my fidgeting fingers, I finally said, “I thought I was going to die. . . I felt the pain breaking me from the inside out.”

He sighed, coldness fleeing, replaced by the earlier defeated look.

I couldn’t imagine the hurt he must be feeling as well.

To have discovered that you missed out on getting to know your own kid—your heir—it was incomprehensible.

Taking a deep breath, I mustered all of my strength to grant him a piece of what I knew, “He-he looked like you, same nose, same. . . eyes.” My voice broke on the last word.

I thought it had been torture seeing Nickolai’s eyes each day—a glaring constant reminder—but now, seeing how they now fought back tears, it brought a whole new meaning to the word torture.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “Everything except. . . his smile was like mine and his hair was soft brown like Nessy’s.”

“My father’s hair color,” he said, eyes staring off into the distance as he tried to picture it.

“When he was born, I stayed a few months in the city with a friend. The monsters had yet to come close to the cottage at that time, but I was worried that it would change with a screaming baby.”

“That’s why you weren’t there when I returned.” It wasn’t a question but a blatant statement. The reminder that he had returned made the blame that I directed toward him wanting to disappear, but something in me couldn’t let it go.

I paused, taking a moment to swipe at the tears before continuing, “He was so adventurous, always wanting to explore.”

“How did he die?”

The question hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Nickolai. . .” His name escaped my lips in a whisper as I shook my head slightly.

Looking me straight in the eyes, the unshed tears glistening on the rim of his emerald ones, he said, “Mira. . . please.”

I dropped my head, another tear escaping and immediately falling on the blanket between my arms, “We were playing in the forest one day. Hide and seek was his favorite game. . . I had taken my eyes off of him for a few seconds—it was just a few seconds.” My voice strained, “When I found him it was too late, a sturian had—” I couldn’t finish my sentence, the image of it all coming back once more, increasing my sobs.

Placing my hands over my face, I choked out the final sentence, “There wasn’t supposed to be any monsters during the day. ”

Nickolai was silent, stewing over the information beside me.

Through my sobs, I squeaked, “Why were they there?”

After what felt like forever, he finally answered, “I’m not sure.”

His answer pissed me off more than I expected. I felt my cheeks heating the tears that still streamed down my face and neck. I don’t think either one of us was prepared for the shout that left me, “WHY HAVEN’T YOU FIGURED IT OUT? ”

Nickolai reared his head back before snapping, “BECAUSE OF YOU!”

“Because of me? That doesn’t even make any sense, I have been trying to help you. I-I have been right beside you trying to get answers!”

“You have been distracting me!” he said, standing to pace the room.

“Bullshit! If anything, you have been distracting me. Always by my side, no matter how many ways I tell you to leave me alone. And now look at what has happened.” I said, gesturing to myself, the movement sending an excruciating shooting pain throughout me.

“I didn’t fucking want this!” I leaned back, covering my eyes with my shaky arm as I sobbed. “ I was ready to die .” I whimpered.

Nickolai sucked in a breath, and then there was silence. No noise other than the crackle of the fire and my barely controlled sniffles. After a short while, there was a rustle of movement followed by a long pause and a sigh before the unmistakable click of the door filled the room.

Surprisingly, no one else other than Ysabel bothered to come and see me, resulting in me clutching her arm as she tried to lead me to the bathroom.

With how much Nessy, Loughlan, and even Zeke like to make my life their business, I would’ve thought I would be begging them to leave at this point.

But there was no one, no one other than Ysabel—whose company I’d preferred anyway.

Nickolai had even forgone returning to the room we had practically shared for what was apparently a week, and I tried not to think about the reason behind it.

It was clear that he blamed me for our son's death.

I blamed myself too. I had spent the night crying every last tear from my eyes at the grief and the guilt that was constantly overwhelming me.

Leaving me to wake up this morning feeling nothing but numbness.

There were so many “if’s” that played in my mind; if Nickolai had never left me, if I had kept chasing Aedon, if there were no monsters. But none of those scenarios did anything to change my current reality.

We entered an enormous room—the solar of the suite. On one half was a massive, sleek, mahogany desk while the other half held a seating area with vintage furniture of felt and wood accents.

Ysabel continued leading me toward a door directly off the bedroom, but I froze. “Whose room is this?”

Please don’t say Nickolai, please don’t say Nickolai.

“It’s the king’s,” she answered.

Shit.

My stomach instantly filled with dread, and I released a sigh of frustration. “Why am I here?”

“He insisted on having you moved here while you heal, since your room was. . . a mess.”

“I don’t want to be here,” my voice came out cold, and I had half a mind to change it for her, but I couldn’t muster up the strength.

She moved in front of me, capturing my gaze as she asked, “What do you need?”

My heart tried to squeeze at her words, “I need to go back to my room.”

She nodded her head before regripping my arms. With careful steps that felt as if they weren’t my own, we walked out of the large room onto the same floor as my purple one.

He had been down the hall from me this entire time. Mere feet.

I didn’t let myself sit with the realization for long as I focused on my steps, each one feeling as if I were walking on a tightrope.

I kept my gaze on the ground as we neared my room, unsure of whether this was a good idea.

We paused at the doorway, and it took me longer than it should've before I finally locked my jaw and looked up at the space that once felt safe to me.

Like the forest and the cottage, my room lost the comfort that it once granted me—leaving behind a horrible memory in its wake.

It had been restored, looking exactly the way it did when I first arrived, without the presence ofmy stuff taking up the space along the wall. I took a deep breath and released it, which drew Ysabel's attention to me. “Do you know what happened? The king has been trying to find out.”

My lips thinned, and I nodded slightly before briefly meeting her gaze. “She cut off my hair.”

Her eyes widened. “It was Katryn! Mira, we have to say something.”

“No.” My tone was so stern that it made Ysabel flinch. She opened her mouth to speak again, but she closed it quickly at the look on my face.

I wasn’t about to have everyone else fighting my battles. I’d endured the most excruciating pain imaginable—losing a child—and on top of that, I was now becoming a fae. There were still so many questions unasked and unanswered, but there was one that I knew I could answer for myself.

What did Katryn look like dead?

While I would love to watch the life leave her eyes at this very second, for now I would have to start with getting answers to some of my other questions. “I would like to call a meeting after the bath, can you help me with that?”

Her brows furrowed. “Can you do that?”

“We’ll find out.”

Ysabel helped me to the bathroom where I let the hot water of the bath soak into each of my aching muscles, letting them relax as much as they could.

Each agonizing hour of this past week washed off of me like oil on a bird, leaving behind a film that left me still feeling as if I wasn’t quite clean.

I found Ysabel occasionally glancing at me warily, her eyes catching on my new ears. Finally growing tired after what seemed like the hundredth time, I quipped, “Do you have something you would like to ask?”

Her cheeks instantly flushed, and she dropped her head.“Sorry.”

Guilt tried to form in my stomach. “Don’t be, just ask me what you want to know.”

Her gaze found mine once more, casting over to my ears for a brief second, “Do they feel different?”

“Everything feels different,” I answered, pulling a hand from the bath to touch the oddly shaped piece attached to me. It felt new but as if it had been there all my life at the same time.

“Can you hear better?”

“I haven’t tried it, but things sound really loud every once in a while.”

Ysabel gave me a small, hesitant smile, “They look good on you. . . Your looks in general have improved. It’s a bit weird.”

The corner of my mouth lifted, “So I’m less ugly?”

She shook her head with a large grin splitting her face, “You were never ugly, but where you probably made hearts skip beats before, now you probably make them stop entirely.”

I rolled my eyes. Even though I didn’t believe her, it didn’t stop the blush from starting at the base of my neck.

We finished with the bath, and I couldn’t get out fast enough to catch a glimpse of my new look in the mirror.

As Ysabel said, my entire look improved, giving me an added glow.

My body was slightly taller, leaner, and my skin was smooth from any blemishes other than the scars that were a roadmap of my past.

The sight in the mirror made me catch my breath. It was truly as if I were in a different body, one that I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about yet.

I got dressed from the small selection of new clothes that could fit me, opting for black pants and a loose tunic, while Ysabel braided my hair off to the side. When she was done, I felt a renewed sense of strength and confidence, which I hoped would be enough to get me through the next meeting.