Page 47 of Immortal Sins
Every time I step within these gold-plated walls, I feel small and insignificant. My nerves hammer at my insecurities as delicately as a troll with a stone club.
Cole averts his gaze. “Yes. It’s Fae magic at its finest. An insidious spell that escalates negative emotions and anxieties about ones-self. Even I am not totally immune.”
The ache in my ribs eases. My witchy-instincts were right, and I’m not entirely to blame for the treacherous doubts that invaded my mind.
“Funny how you forgot to mention it yesterday,” I growl.
“We never got around to it.”
I huff and escape to a nearby interior courtyard, the fire still raging inside me.
A fountain spurts translucent water out into the air, and the breeze blows a soothing mist on my face. A mermaid statue with her breasts bare and a crown of rainbow fishes at her brow stalks us quietly. We’re nowhere close to Cole’s quarters, and the seaweed and foam colors of this wing remind me of Brie’s scales.
I pause. “Where are we?”
“In the Sea Queen apartments.” He forges ahead of me. “Don’t listen to Oz. His Faerie portal spit you out near Unseelie territory. He must know how precarious our borders truly are and how important a power like yours could become in the war against them.”
He stands next to the fountain and plays with one of the water jets.
I watch his face. The dark glint in his eyes quickens my pulse, but I read nothing but truth in them, and my suspicions waiver. The clammy hold of the throne room lessens, and fresh droplets extinguish my flames.
I drag my nails along the ridge of the inked scar the wedding ritual branded in my wrist. “Brie’s mother lives here?”
“Sometimes.”
I knew mermaids were inter-realms travellers, but I had no idea Brie’s family was so close to Cole’s. It explains how well Cole and Brie know each other, and why they probably fucked. Oz’splowingcomment buzzes in my ears like an armor-plated bee, oblivious to my attempts to swat it off my mind.
Cole rubs my arms up and down. “We can’t stay in the palace. My mother will make our lives miserable. We’ll go to my place.”
“Your place?”
He runs his wet fingers through his jet-black hair. “My estate.”
I poke his upper arm. “Spoiled prince.”
He nudges my side. “Paranoid mortal.”
Instead of heading for his bedroom, Cole leads me to a cul-de-sac at the back of his personal wing. A copper and silver door at the end of the corridor absorbs all the light of the torches, this section as window-less as the servants’ stairs.
Fae magic zaps along Cole’s palms as he flatters them to the metal. The door whines on its hinges, and we tip-toe into a dark room.
I grow a ball of fire in my hand to see better. In the middle of the room, a Faerie portal reflects its orange and red hues. The six-foot tall mirror hangs from the ceiling, held by translucent cables reminiscent of spider-webs. Shadows undulate in the glass.
I raise my hand to the rainbow-streaked surface, surprised to see my reflection—and not some terrible Fae version of myself. “Darth-Jules is gone.”
Cole’s brows form a straight line. “Darth-Jules?”
“My Faerie alter-ego,” I chime, testing the feel of the event horizon before we walk through it. My fingers disappear in its depths, but the portal doesn’t suck me in. Technically, my hand is now stuck somewhere between worlds. Like my soul.
“You’ve assimilated a bit of my magic. Basic Fae glamors should not affect you any more, not at the rate they did before.” Cole gently reels my hand back.
“Ow.” I wince at the sudden, unexpected sting. Frost bites my flesh, and I bring my blue fingers to my mouth.
“Careful with that. It’s not a toy.”
“Too bad my newfound Fae magic can’t swallow the effects of the throne room.” I close my eyes, trying to sense the change in myself. In him. I haven’t slept enough. I’m wary of this new world, but other than that, there’s no “on” switch for whateverupgradeI inherited.
“I’ve got a bit of your magic, and you’ve got a bit of mine.” I straighten the front of the Fae tunic. “Doesn’t sound as dire as Oz implied.”
