Page 57 of A House of Cloaks & Daggers

“I must have upset him very much, then,” I lamented, standing on the tips of my toes as I crossed my ankles and stared at the floor.

My hair spilled over my shoulders, already dried after the bath, and I balanced on one foot as I straightened up and gazed back at the High King’s right-hand man with as much resolution as I could muster.

I did not regret my words, but perhaps I did regret the way I’d delivered them.

Wren shrugged, a fluid motion across his broad shoulders. “It’s not as personal as you might think.” Slowly, he dragged a finger across a shelf in the bookcase like he was absentmindedly checking for dust. “I could tell you that Lucais Starfire has been waiting to meet his mate for his entire life, that he’s a sappy old romantic for how much he’s looked forward to it. But he didn’t know it was you until the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time, and you were looking right back at him.”

Blinking, I recalled the look of realisation I had seen crossing Lucais’s face when I’d arrived.

“The Oracle doesn’t show faces,” Wren explained, sensing my confusion. “You might catch a whiff of their scent, maybe a blurry memory from a former life with vague details like flame-red hair, but it wasn’t about having you. Or loving you. Or even wanting you. It was theideaof you. And you would not be the first person who rejected the idea of falling in love with your soulmate because you were told to do so by some external force. This is exactly why I kept it from you.”

Clouds filled my mind, dripping with knowledge and feelings. Hazy and profuse, like searching for signposts on a fog-consumed road.

Lucais hadn’t been dreaming of me.

He knew who I was because of the mating bond, because some Oracle had shown him—

“When?” I stumbled forward, steadying myself against the closest bedpost. “When did this Oracle—”

“Three months ago.” Wren bowed his head to me. “I’d wager it was around the same time your dreams started.”

Soulmate.

Were my dreams a memory, like the Oracle had shown Lucais? Did he suffer like that, or is it yet to happen? How many beatings has he endured—or will he endure? And, above all, did the idea of me help him survive that, like I tried to do when I screamed for him every night? Or is that why I’m here now?

Without answers, without anything but the feeling that lingered on my skin like perfume, I was emptied and completed at once.

Blank and bursting with colour.

“Look,” Wren said tightly, halting my motionless downwards fall. “Forget him. The mating bond has been primarily used to produce strong, healthy faelings, but it’s notuncommon for the crown to switch Courts between reigns, so having an heir doesn’t really matter. It’s the modern age now, anyway, and nobody is going to tell you what to do. Not even the High King of Faerie.”

Eyeing him warily, I wrapped an arm around the bedpost and sagged against it. “You sound like you know an awful lot about this.”

A wistful look gleamed in his eyes. “He’s my best friend. My brother. We’ve been through everything together. All of this, and all the years beforehand.” Shaking off the memories, he gave me an appraising look. “He’s disappointed, but he’ll get over it. And besides, his foul mood is not just about you.” He waved a hand towards the window again. “There’s an awful lot happening at the moment, and by no means should you feel guilty for any of it. You have every right to say no.” His hand fell back to his side, and he heaved a deep breath. “To go home.”

I jerked my head towards him, my throat tightening. “Is that why you’re here?”

He ran his tongue along his lower lip, then his teeth, and he broke our stare for a second before offering me a small, sad smile. “Would you like me to take you home, bookworm?”

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. All I could do was stare at him as that one potential, budding truth began to bloom between us until all of his lies were buried beneath it.

But they were buried in a shallow grave.

Still, I couldn’t form an answer.

Is it smarter to go home now? Can I ask him to makemeforget?

There was still hope for that life in a quiet town far away from the gateways into Faerie, where my mother and sister could live in safety, and I could…

I could be safe, too. Safe in stories I could close and walk away from without elemental repercussions or feelings so strongthat they demanded a sacrifice. Like I’d always desired. Like I’d always told myself that I desired.

“Do you want me to go home?” The words came out before I could stop them, the question posed before I could make sense of it.

Wren’s reply was immediate and final. “No.”

Reassurance flooded through me, opening up my lungs and steadying my hands. I’d braced myself for a different answer, although I didn’t know why. Of course he wouldn’t want to take me back. He didn’t want to carry me while he evanesced, and he hated the long walk.

And of course I couldn’t go home. Not yet, not after what I’d said the night before. I couldn’t leave when I still hadn’t discovered how or when Lucais had or would become a prisoner, or if his best friend had anything to do with it.

---