Page 131 of Sidhe
They kissed, and Nathan felt a sickening twist in the pit of his stomach.
This wasn’t right. Malak was lying and Solrin believed her anyway, wanted to believe her, wanted what she offered. Nathan wondered if Solrin had hoped for that same kind of reward fromhimwhen he was leading Malak’s forces. But no, somehow Nathan knew it was more than anything sexual, despite how eagerly Solrin leaned into the kiss.
He wanted to belong. He wanted to matter. He wanted to be more than just his eye and the pain it brought to others and had for so long brought to him.
“Don’t listen to her, Sol,” Nathan said aloud, his voice coming out like a breath. “She doesn’t care about you. There are no rewards. It’s all gonna go up in smoke!Sol!” He walked right up to them, yelling in Solrin’s ear, and it shocked him that Solrin actually seemed to hear him because he pulled back with a start.
Malak tilted her head. “It’s alright, Solrin. I know you’re apprehensive, but it is almost time now. We are ready. Nathan will either join us again or we will take all he has away from him. You understand what you need to do? This is important, my dear.” She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers. “This is the right thing. The world will only stay the same if we do nothing. But if wewin…then we can change it as you have always dreamed of.”
“Even without Nathan?” Solrin asked quietly, pain and uncertainty clear in his dual-colored eyes, admitting that he was not so confident anymore, not so sure of the choice he had made.
“Even if all that remains is you and I,” Malak said, the fingers she had on his cheek turning so she could take his chin and keep his eyes focused on her. “Now, prepare yourself. The battle begins soon. You will lead. But this time I will be with you. And everything will be okay.”
Those words. Nathan had spoken them so often when he was Malak, to those he loved, to those that doubted him. He didn’t trust them one bit.
He watched with hatred as Malak turned and walked away, leaving Solrin alone. Nathan wanted to talk to Solrin, to convince him to stop this, to tell him that itwouldbe okay if only he would see that it wasn’t too late to switch sides.But Nathan was only a shade.
He reached out and touched Solrin’s shoulder anyway, squeezed it, even though he knew Solrin couldn’t really feel him. “I’m not giving up on you yet,” he said, looking into Solrin’s eyes, into that drawn face that doubted.
That pull came again, the tug at Nathan’s spine, and he was twirled up and away, off somewhere else just as swiftly as he had been brought into the scene with Solrin and Malak.
He landed on a hill, the tallest amongst the fields outside the Gatehouse. Oberon and Gwen were there, looking out at their troops. They were both still just as sparsely clothed as before, their bodies flawless and unnaturally beautiful the way only fae could be, even in simple human guise. They were so different from Malak, who Nathan always saw as made of stone and ice and cruelty. They were made of something else, something warmer.
“It’s going to be close,” Gwen said, hand on her hip as she surveyed the army below them.
“Nathan will lead us to victory,” Oberon said plainly, no room for other possibilities in his mind. “He is more than capable. When the time comes, he will know what to do.”
Gwen nodded. “Many will die though, especially if he fails.”
“It is to be expected.”
“Oberon.” Gwen turned to him.
“What,Guinevere?” He met her gaze with a smile. “You worry that the same mistakes will be made again, I understand that. You are not my wife, as so many believe, but a dear friend who has ruled by my side. And as your friend, I ask you to have faith. And don’t turn your nose up at that.” He frowned since ‘turn up her nose’ was exactly what she did. “It takes great faith to see darkness when it is hidden but greater faith to see light when it is buried. And it is not always faith in oneself.”
“Riddles.” Gwen shook out her long red curls, crossing her arms defiantly.
Oberon merely smiled wider. “Perhaps. But I have faith that Nathan will see the answer. Don’t hold onto your bitterness for the one you lost. Look what your love gave us.” With the smallest tilt of his head, Oberon directed Gwen’s attention tothe gathered incubi and succubae soldiers. “They are beautiful, powerful beings.”
“Don’t lecture me on the good that came from my tragedy,” Gwen said with something of a sharp tongue that Nathan was not used to from her. “I know how beautiful and powerful they are. How ironic that one of my…children,” she smiled a little bitterly, “is destined to play so important a role. He loves Nathan with such abandon.”
“Yes.” Oberon nodded.
“He reminds me…of my son,” Gwen said, and Nathan understood why she was bitter, and angry, and a little sharper than usual.
“Your son lived a long life. Happy,” Oberon said.
“I know. But I wonder if this isn’t all happening now because I—”
“I was the closest to him, you know. If we want to start pointing out blame, dear, then it really begins there.”
“No.” Gwen shifted, glancing up finally to meet Oberon’s gaze again. “No one is to blame. I just hope…I hope he lives through this.”
“Nathan? Sasha? Or do you mean someone else?”
Oberon seemed to have touched on something there, but Gwen didn’t say anything more. Nathan had a good idea who that ‘someone else’ was.
In the next moment he was whisked away again, tumbling through the air until he landed within the camp not far below where Oberon and Gwen were surveying. Incubi and succubae needed sleep too, but while there were heaps of winged and clawed creatures curled together, he saw Aloysha walking over to a small bit of empty space to meet his grandson.
