Page 62 of Changeling
Ivaz sits on the empty spot next to me, my bed far too large for one person. Our friendship has never entered the bedroom, so it’s awkward. Not that I fear he’ll come on to me—we aren’t exactly each other’s type—but to admit my vulnerabilities, which is what he’s asking, is no small thing.
He makes himself comfortable, snagging a pillow, putting it behind his back, and leaning against the bed frame. He crosses one ankle over the other, clasps his hands together in his lap, and waits.
Though I’m tempted to bring the covers over my head and ignore him until he goes away, a confession spills out instead. “I’m stuck on him, Ivaz. The faerie. I fell for him, but he’s gone, and I’m alone. I don’t want anyone else. I’m not feeding. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”
“Oh dear,” says Ivaz in his deep rumble. “Well, that’s a predicament I hadn’t expected from you, my friend.”
I listen to the quiet inhale and exhale of my breath, shocked at my own admission and how easy it was to say. Ivaz offers no advice, no solutions or meaningless pity, for which I’m grateful.
“I didn’t expect it either,” I mutter.
“One rarely does with this sort of thing, does one?”
“I don’t know. I’m an incubus. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.”
Ivaz has the absolute gall to laugh. “Happens to the best of us, I’m afraid.”
Something in his melancholy tone triggers a question that I never thought I would ask. “You, Ivaz? Have you lost a lover too?”
He gives a slow nod. “Many over the years, yes. But one in particular that still burns my heart when I think of him. Old pain. Neither here nor there. But you still have a chance with Sebastian if you’d stop feeling sorry for yourself and talk to him.”
“He’s gone, Ivaz. And he’s happy with The Dozen.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“He’s written.”
“And said what, exactly? That he’s thrilled to be away from you and doesn’t miss you at all? I doubt it.”
I roll my eyes and huff. “Of course not. Don’t be dull. It’s perfectly clear from his letters that he’s doing fine without me. I won’t drag him back on my account when he has his whole life ahead of him somewhere else.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
“Why would I tell him that?”
Ivaz shakes his head and then gives mine a whack with the back of his hand.
“Hey!” I rub my head.
“You’re being stupid. Someone had to slap some sense into you.” He gestures to the bed and the rest of the messy room. “This can’t go on. You must acknowledge what you want and pursue it. Pursue him. What if he’s pining over you too right now?”
“He’s not.”
“He might be.”
“It’s not like I can go after him. I’m stuck here.”
“Would you? If you could?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Just to visit.”
“Then send me.”
I blink. “What?”
