Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)

“Said she could make it stop. Protect my family.”

He stiffens against me and the sudden cold makes my bones ache. “At what cost?”

“Knighthood.”

His voice is flat. “That will never happen.”

“If I take the oath now, will it stop hurting?”

He looks at me and there’s so much pain in his eyes that I wonder how he can bear it.

“This is all my fault,” he murmurs. “I’ll fix this. It’s too late for me, but you will be free.”

He halts unexpectedly and the world shivers into blackness...

Somewhere new now. Warmer here. Smells of home. Hard floor under me.

“Finn—”

Too tired to lift my head.

“I’m sorry about this.”

I brace myself. But it’s no rapier to the heart. No hex. Instead, words. Pretty words, ancient words that flow like a river, washing over me and burying themselves into my skin like armor just below the surface.

Shadows and waking and lies and promises and love. So much love in his voice that tears spill from my eyes and drip down my temples.

I don’t have to understand what he’s saying. The intent is clear. He’s going to take this all from me. The oath Mab offered. The pain. Him. He’s giving me freedom by taking it from me. It should be my choice.

Cool lips against mine and an order: Forget.

Something inside me slams shut and I welcome the darkness.

* * *

When I wake from the memory, I can’t move my body. It’s still trapped in that moment, bound flat to the floor while Roark’s words do their magick. Sweat soaks my sheets and every beat of my heart threatens to make my veins burst from the pressure.

My brain tries to remake my reality as the weight of what I now know settles itself deeper. I remember it all. The terrifying promise of the Winter Knight’s oath lies at the back of my tongue. I understand why Roark took the words from me. He was desperate. He thought that if he stole them, I would be safe from his political bullshit, that I wouldn’t be able to accidentally bind myself to the Unseelie Court. He wanted to give me the freedom he can never have.

But there’s no point in having that freedom if I can’t have him.

I roll to my side, reaching f

or his body. I need to kiss him and curse him and have him finally give me answers to so many questions—

There’s no one there. Nothing but an empty expanse of sheets. His clothes are gone. My door is closed. He left without saying goodbye.

“Son of a bitch,” I grumble, clawing my way out of bed. I don’t care how much of a head start he has, there’s no way in hell he’s leaving without me.

I drag on a shirt, some shorts, and my shoes, grab my phone so I can text Herman later, and take a quick look out my window. The horizon has that awkward pre-dawn flush, but it’s still dark. A lone figure walks away from the building, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in his pockets.

I pull open the window and bellow, “Roark!”

He’s too far away to hear me. Swearing, I shut my window and make my decision. Run toward hope. Even if hope is a fae asshole who really needs to learn how to communicate better.

I take the stairs two at a time and bolt outside. He’s already gone from sight.

I sprint down the path in the same direction he’d been heading. The campus is deathly silent, as if it’s holding itself in check until the sealing is over. Once that happens, nothing will be the same. The world is already changing. There’s no point denying that anymore, or fighting against it. Even with Roark’s interference, I still found myself aligned to the Unseelie Court, to Sebastian and Gumba and the other fae who rule the darkest legends. Powerful and feared until they’re useful, the Unseelie always felt more real and familiar to me than anyone else, any other pantheon of magickal beings here at Mathers.