Page 28 of Secret Origins
“The two of you should become a couple. You are perfect for each other.” While I eyed them warily, my hand reached up to gingerly prod at my head. “Oh …”
The moment my fingertips brushed over cool-to-the-touch metal, I didn’t have to look in the mirror to figure out the new shit I’d gotten myself into by not leaving things alone. Not to say I regretted knowing who and what I was, but really? Things couldn’t get much worse, could they? Bolting upright, I rushed out of the living room, teetering peculiarly on my high heels as I searched the house for a bathroom.
Brushing past the General, who jerked back as if I was a demon, I could feel Fenrir right behind, Marius following, albeit from further away. Pushing doors open, I finally found what I was looking for and, flicking the light on, I planted myself in front of the mirror. The ceramic sink cracked when I tightened my hold on it, crumbling into dust between my fingers. My dusty hand reached up again to touch the silver circlet on my head with three deep red stones at the center.
“For fuck’s sake.” I groaned miserably, tugging hard without moving it an inch.
“He was telling the truth,” Fenrir accused as if I knew everything and was hiding it from him on purpose.
The three of them were crowding the door, each of them wearing a different expression on their faces. Fenrir looked pissed like I’d killed his puppy. Marius looked like he was about to either shit his pants or faint but couldn’t decide what he wanted to do. The General looked calculating and, dare I say, reassured. Why that was, it was anyone’s guess.
“Who? The cow?” Ignoring all of them, I took another look at myself.
All I was able to see was my father’s hair falling around my shoulders and my mother’s eyes looking back at me. My peepers were a bit too large bulging out of their sockets, but I’d be damned if I ever let the three that were staring at me know how freaked out I was.
“So”—Clearing my throat, my feet shuffled uncomfortably for a second before I turned to face them again—“it would appear that my parents were royal.” Fenrir’s face darkened like a cloud of doom. “Who would’ve thought, right? Right?” My nervous snickering trailed off.
“That is the crown of the Courtless Throne,” the Fae continued, his accusatory tone rubbing me wrong.
“You don’t fucking say, Fenrir. Oh my goodness, how did this thing get on top of my head?” Glowering at him, I tugged on the circlet with everything in me, but apart from one strand of my hair, nothing else came off my head.
“This is not good news I assume?” The General frowned at Fenrir, but the Fae ignored him. Marius, on the other hand, was nodding adamantly, his neck cracking.
“Who are your parents, Myst?” All in all, at least Fenrir was predictable. Like a dog with a bone, he would never just let shit slide.
“Were, Fenrir.” The same pain from when I saw my parents look at each other with so much love returned, choking me even now. “Were, notare. They are dead now.”
“Who?” A muscle twitched under his eye again, which made me wonder if a Fae could die from a heart attack. “Myst.” Fenrir snapped me out of that daydream.
“The King and Queen of the Courtless Throne. There, happy now?”
“Names, Myst. Say their names.”
“Érenn. Or Ernmas was my mother, and Delbáeth my father.” It took a lot of swallowing to push the lump in my throat down.
The string of curses Fenrir started spitting out in English, as well as the language of the Old ones we used as Fae, made my ears burn and the other two flinch away from him. And I thought I had a potty mouth. He put me to shame. He might not have a stick stuck up his ass after all. Or I broke him. Anything was possible at this point.
“If there is something I should know, by all means share it, Fenrir. Don’t be shy on my account.” Leaning a hip on the broken sink, I crossed my arms over my chest. “And can you”—Twirling a hand to indicate my head, I huffed in frustration”—puff this thing out of existence? Or hide it so I don’t have to look at it.”
His wrists twisted while he mutely stared at me with an intense gaze, and I took an involuntary deep breath when his power washed over me. One quick look in the mirror told me he made the circlet disappear, although I could still feel its weight on my head. That would take some getting used to. I should’ve thanked him, but I didn’t.
“This changes many things,” the Fae murmured, his eyes trailing up and down my body.
“In what way, apart from knowing what happened to me and who I am?” Brushing off his comment, I offered him a shrug. “I’m still Myst and have no intention of changing anything about myself or my life.”
“The crown on your head, hidden or not, says otherwise, your highness.” Mockingly bowing at me, his lips tilted in a chilling smirk.
“Keep that up, Fenrir. I might neuter you after all. You have the face to pull it off, too.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Cocking an arrogant eyebrow, he grinned.
“For a girl?” Pretending I was considering it, I pursed my lips and gave him a once over. “Sure, if I was swinging that way.”
“The two of you either fight it off or fuck it off,” the General barked from behind Fenrir. “It seems to me we have an even bigger problem than those creatures I saw tonight. I will be damned if I let human lives be lost for freak-show politics.”
“You did hear Fenrir say you have some of that freak show in your blood, didn’t you?”
“I’m a human and I’ll die as one. But if whatever he says is true and I can use it to protect innocents, I’ll take it.” The old man squared his shoulders, which made him look taller than he was. He still had fire in him. Something that I now knew called to me for other reasons than just appreciating a warrior’s spirit.
