Page 37 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
“Not the first time a male has lied to me about their size either. Now tell me which key.”
“You sure are crass. Anyways, I think I got them mixed up, try the more rounded one.”
“Eternity damn you,” I groaned, grabbing the correct key.
“Yes, Eternity damn me to the Underworld. I love all things hot and spicy.” His wiggling eyebrows brought a reluctant grin to my face. Mortals were menaces.
“You are even more of an idiot when you are in pain.” There, the lock clicked.
“A hot idiot, at least?”
“I would not know, I prefer savory, now get in.”
We made it through without being seen—a miracle if I have ever known one. Sterling winked before jumping into my still perfectly made bed and crying out when he accidentally jostled his hurt wrist.
What an absolute nitwit. I was constantly surrounded by such creatures.
Ignoring the prince, I hastily made my way to my wardrobe, grabbing out a thin nightdress. Making it believable. My hair was newly washed and still fairly damp, but I reached up and mussed it on my way to my bathing chambers. As quickly as Icould, I stripped from Sterling’s clothes, tucked them behind my tub, and dressed in the golden silk.
From there it was just a matter of ringing the pulley that would alert Mia’s handmaidens. My hand touched the rope, the ends frayed from just how often I had called for her.
I used to love her. She was my rock, an immovable force that stopped me from being pulled out to sea. When someone hurt me, it was Mia that I first called to. Her arms would wind around me as she whispered kind words about my magnificence. Xavier would later tell me ways in which I might fight back, how I could destroy them if I was smart. How was it that those same two beings—the fae I thought of as parents—would then hurt me so deeply? Would call me a monster and tell me to thank them for their love?
With a deep breath, I cleared my mind and tugged the rope.
Passing through the door, I darted back to Sterling. In my absence he had taken on a sickly pallor, his face nearly as green as the flecks in his eyes.
Time was of the essence, so I did not hesitate to jump on the bed with him and run my hands through his hair.
“This will hurt and I am so so sorry for that. For hurting you before. Likely for hurting you again, I am sure.”
Then I ripped him up towards the pillows, dragging him until his head hit the cushion. My fingers expertly undid the golden buttons of his tunic, parting the fabric to reveal his bare chest. Then I yanked off his shoes, threw them to the side, and tucked him beneath the blankets. For my own part, I slapped and pinched my cheeks, shook one of my straps off my shoulder, and moved to straddle him.
Wait, no. He needed to be on the ground. Shit.
“We have to move you! The story is that you fell and broke your wrist. How could you have done that on the—”
A knock on the door cut off my sentence. She was here. With no other option I moved to the side and kicked Sterling off the bed, diving to the ground after him.
“Come in!” I said, using my hand to cover Sterling’s mouth and muffle his cries. He jostled for a moment before stilling. Then my doors burst open. Mia ran, her golden gown swishing around her. Every part of her was immaculate, crafted with precision. Her lips were full and pink, her orange hair once more shorter in the back than in the front and cut above her shoulders. There was no sign of her freckles, but her eyes of ice were confirmation enough.
Bellamy’s mother approached, Tish not far behind her. As if she knew my need for her could only mean injury now. So different than it once was.
“He fell,” I said, trying to elicit some of the panic at her nearness into my voice. Mia’s gaze ran over me, taking in my hair and my flush and my exposed shoulder. Then she looked at Sterling, who was even more of a disaster than I was. His buttons still exposed the flesh of his chest, his curls a mess from when he had ran his fingers through it as we played cards.
“Tish, check on him,” the queen ordered. Tish nodded her head, her complexion once more perfect and simple. She looked healthy. Like she no longer needed to heal every day.
“Or perhaps she never had.” My eyes moved to the harsh sound of Wrath’s voice of their own will. I caught sight of him just behind Mia, a smirk on his feline face. He was smaller than normal, but just as daunting.
I wanted to yell at him. To swear at the queen before me. More than both of those things, I wished to curse the ethers themselves for all the wrongs they had committed. For it was Eternity who I owed my bitter thanks—my bloodlust—my insanity.
“Yes, Strange One. Blame all but yourself. What a new way of thinking for you. Perhaps your imagination has taught you something after all. Madness looks wonderous on you.”
And then he disappeared.
Mia was on her knees, her gown splayed out around us. She grabbed my jaw, tilting my head back and forth. “Did he force himself on you, my flower?”
As if she would care. She had proven that, when push came to shove, it was her plans over my wellbeing every time. But of course, I could not say that. So instead, I lowered my gaze and slumped my shoulders. I made myself small and shy. Becoming the Asher she had raised.
