Page 38 of How to Keep a Fae

It is not. Nor the next time, nor the one after that.

I never felt alone before, even when I was a rat looking for scraps on the street, but now I do. Every time I stop at her doorway, every time she thrusts the covering aside with hope shining in her eyes.

Every time I watch her hope fade, leaving a sweet, broken fae behind, I experience a little death.

Wounds do not always show on our flesh; some burrow deep inside where eyes do not see.

Alone, I am not enough.

I fool myself into believing this will get easier over time, that the iterations of two will allow the memories of three to fade.

It does not. It gets harder. And as the weeks transition into months, we exist in an alternate reality as a pale echo of all we once were and felt.

We go on because we must.

We go on because August is still out there somewhere, and because there is yet hope.

Chapter Fourteen

August

We leave on horseback, passing through the portal into Imperium lands. I have never visited this kingdom before, but it is lush and green, and it exhibits a sleepy idealism with warm, friendly human betas who are largely untroubled by the Blighten war happening at the border far to the north of where we are. Omegas are coveted and claimed by many mates. Those alphas not in positions of power are conscripted to the war or protection of the estates. The estates belong to lords. The lords all report to the Imperium king.

Shifters and other nonhumans inhabit the lands on the other side of the Lumen, but a few do occasionally pass through these lands. We are usually presumed to be alpha or some kind of hybrid shifter if they do catch a glimpse of our ears.

No one is troubled by our presence.

My father is not a man of many words. A fact that becomesglaringly obvious the more time we spend together traveling steadily north.

Silence reigns. It is deafening after my most recent experiences since befriending Jayga.

I get used to it. Sometimes, it even comforts me. At other times, it does not.

I follow instructions without question and do not ask him for answers, although the need for them burns inside me.

As we crest the rise today, a distant cluster of buildings comes into view. I pull my horse to a stop. I have never seen a castle, but I instinctively know this one. Beyond a high outer wall, rising above many smaller rooftops, is a collection of turrets and spires in gleaming white. Before the outer wall is sweeping farmland, and to the north, a broad winding river leads to a shimmering expanse of blue.

I have also never seen the sea.

My life and experiences become small as I take in this foreign scene, with its strange pointed architecture and trees that look more like giant green balls sitting upon a stick than the tall pines prevalent around Sanctum.

“The Wittner estate,” my father says. “We will speak to the lord here.”

The lord turns out to be an alpha. My father surprises me when he includes me in the discussion. I’d presumed my role was that of a typical warrior, one of protection despite my father carrying a sword and my long-standing presumption that he was trained in its use.

A servant shows us into a study where the resident lord waits for us. “The king sends his regards,” Bram says. “He asked us to assist you in any way we can. This is my brother, Silas. A former Imperium Guard.”

We shake hands, and my father surprises me again by likewise introducing me.

“My son, Augustine.” There is a distinct note of pride in his voice. I’m confused that he chose to acknowledge our relationship at all.

“Well met.” Bram gives me a nod before directing us to the table, where we take a seat.

The two men are identical twins with subtle differences. Bram is more refined as bespeaks his role as lord.

“I heard you usually travel alone,” Silas says.

His comment adds a further layer of confusion as to why I’m here. My mother mentioned my father was on a diplomatic mission to speak with the Imperium king. Silas’s comment confirms that my father is known in these lands in broader terms.

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