I would never want to go through it again.
Just when I was thinking I’d rather be ugly for life than endure this torture and that I wished I was dead, the magic wind abruptly ceased and the awful fingers stopped peeling and picking and burning me all at once.
The cessation of pain can be a kind of pain of its own. The minute the wind let me go, I flopped back onto the bed, as boneless as a fish with its spine ripped out. I was naked, but I didn’t even notice at that point. All I knew was that every single nerve was throbbing with the aftermath of the worst agony I had ever felt and I couldn’t stand any more—after going through that hellish pain, I simply had no more strength.
I closed my eyes and everything went black.
31
When I woke, I heard a lot of angry voices.
“Bran, what is the meaning of this?” his father was demanding. “Who is this young lady and why were you torturing her in your room?”
“Ah, I’m afraid it was me who was doing the torturing, Mr. O’Connor,” Lachlan said, stepping forward. “You see, I had to remove a rather strong geas which had been placed on her and it was more painful than I anticipated to get it off.”
Bran’s father looked the Dark Fae up and down and glared at him.
“You,” he said, that single word dripping with contempt. He looked at his son. “I thought your mother and I taught you never to associate with those of the Court of Winter? Don’t you know they are unclean?”
“He’s not UnSeelie anymore, father,” Bran said quickly. “Lachlan has declared himself a Solitary Fae. He carries no obligation to either court.”
“So he says,” his father said, frowning. “But if a creature is born into the darkness and filth of midnight, you can’t expect it to grow and thrive in the warmth of sunlight.”
“I am not a creature.” Lachlan’s voice was low and angry. “And my mother was Seelie—of the Summer Court!”
“Who was taken and defiled by one of the Dark Ones,” Bran’s father roared. He glared at his son. “How could you have brought him here, knowing that we must stay in exile? Now we must go and find a new place, make a new life—do you know how difficult that will be?”
“Father, please…” Bran stepped forward, his hands out beseechingly. “I will vouch for Lachlan O’Rourke. I’ll give you my word that he won’t reveal us. And I’m sure he’ll give his own word as well.”
“How much is that worth?” his father demanded. “The word of an UnSeelie? No Bran…” He shook his head. “Pack your things and take a dose of Suva. It’s time for us to go.”
“No.” Bran pulled himself up to his full height and frowned down at his father. “No, I’m staying here,” he said.
“What? Oh, Bran—you can’t!” his mother wailed. “We’re a family—we have to stay together.”
“I made a vow to stay and see Emma through her change and whatever came after,” Bran said, nodding at me. “I don’t intend to break it. So you can go if you’re not willing to trust that Lachlan won’t talk, but I won’t—I’m staying.”
“Who is she, anyway?” Bran’s sister sounded curious. “She looks kind of like that waitress we had at the I Scream tonight, only not really.”
“She is the waitress—her name is Emma and she’s also my lab partner. And my friend,” Bran said firmly. “I will not abandon her.”
“Well, maybe you should cover her up,” his sister pointed out. “She’s naked.”
I had been so groggy from passing out and then so caught up in the family drama playing out at the foot of my bed, I somehow hadn’t noticed that myself. Now, however, I noticed in a big way—a big, embarrassing way. I was lying there on the bed completely nude in front of Bran and his family and Lachlan too.
With a gasp, I tried to cover myself with my arms. This was completely ineffective, though, since I now seemed to have much more to cover than I had previously. How had my boobs gotten so big, I wondered as I scrambled in vain to hide myself?
“Here, little one.” Lachlan took off his black cloak and draped it over me. His face was impassive—a mask of indifference. But I was certain I saw hurt and anger far down in the depths of his green eyes.
“Bran, come with us now or renounce your name,” his father demanded—which kind of took my mind off my own nudity, I can tell you.
“Oh no, please, Connell,” Bran’s mother pleaded. “Don’t do that! Don’t cut our son off from us! He made a vow to the girl—he can hardly break it.”
But Bran’s father—who had seemed so kind and easy-going when I served them all at the diner—had a harsh, unyielding look on his face. As I watched him, he seemed to grow as tall and muscular as his son and his features were as handsome and as hard as that of a stone statue.