Page 25 of Married By Treachery

But that was just it: Jake needed to go traipsing into the palace as Edom to steal Edom’s blessing and birthright. It was no secret that King Issachar’s health had drastically declined, especially in the last year. At nearly half a millennium, King Issachar had pushed the edge of life even for their kind, and his heart had finally grown weary. It was what had prompted Jake’s mother to fashion the coat in the first place, for surely King Issachar would be ready to pass on his blessing to Canna’s heir this year, and with the timing of the veil—well, it was a rare moment to seize, like a gift from the Fates.

If only Jake could steal it.

But Jake needed the coat for that, and his coat was broken.

The monster that’d wounded Raquel had torn right through the fabric to get to her flesh, thus severing the intricate enchantments his mother had carefully woven. He needed that coat to enter the palace, and he needed his mother to mend the coat, or everything they’d so carefully fought for would be lost.

So Jake spent two days pacing between the watchtower, Raquel, and the forest, constantly looking out for Edom’s inevitable scouts. With Banon and Rian’s help, he’d burned the carnage from the night prior, glamouring the flames as best they could to hide them, and when night descended the second time and there was still no sign of his mother, he’d returned to the girl’s bedside. To see if he could do anything to speed the waking process.

Havarr had left food and water for her—both untouched. Jake snatched a cracker off of the tray and shoved it into his mouth, but like everything else in this Fates-forsaken place, it tasted like dust. As flavorless as their kingdom was colorless. The only substance with any marginal flavor was wine, and so Jake washed down his bite with a large gulp from the ampoule Havarr had also left, then returned to the bedside, where he absently regarded Raquel.

Which, honestly, he found himself doing a lot. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. She was like a ripe fruit in this withered kingdom of rot and decay. A bolt of color in a grayscale world. A blazing fire in the bitter cold, and try as he might, he could not look away from her.

Raquel sighed and turned her face toward him, though her eyes remained closed.

She’s a pretty little mortal, isn’t she?Sienne had said.

No, Jake thought as his eyes slid over her face.She is exquisite.

Do not lose sight of the mission, Sienne had reminded him.

Jake sighed, slumped back, and raked a hand through his hair. As if he’d needed reminding. This mission was the only thing that had occupied his thoughts these last seven years, since they’d lost the last bride to the forest. Still, it was a pity that Raquel had to die.

9

Raquel’s eyes opened with a start. She’d been dreaming again, as she was often wont to do. Normally, this wouldn’t have been an issue, except all of her dreams had been about Jake.

Jake as a boy, doted upon by an adoring (and very beautiful) mother. To a little Jake finding comfort in his mother’s arms when his twin brother had been particularly cruel and Jake’s father would not hear his accusations. To a slightly older Jake being mocked and abused by a large and hairy adolescent boy who looked exactly like a precursor to the glamoured Bear Prince. To Jake spending more and more time alone in a lush and vivid forest where he could exist as he was, without courtly expectation and a barbaric twin to make his life a living hell.

Jake had memorized every plant by name and their properties. Which ones he could eat, which ones poisoned, and which could heal, and Raquel’s dreams showed her many accounts of him tending to animals that his brother had tortured for sport.

And then, in her dreams, the forest began to shift and change. A thick mist settled and anchored deep, obscuring Jake’s magnificent kingdom. The light faded, and all the glorious foliage began to wither and die.

She saw Jake, his dark hair falling forward as he knelt over a stag with the largest spread of antlers she’d ever seen. The focus of her dream shifted, reeling her forward like a lure until she was standing directly behind him and gazing down upon the stag.

At the black rot covering its body and eating away at its flesh.

The stag’s legs twitched as it whined in agony, and Jake’s sword of light winked into existence—a single bolt of light in this strangely faded world. She watched Jake raise his sword, grinding his teeth as he yelled, and plunge his light through the stag’s heart.

The stag slumped, dead.

Jake’s sword winked out, his head bowed, his eyes closed, and a single tear slid down his face. In that moment, in that display of emotion he’d never given glimpse of before, Raquel’s heart ached, and she was overwhelmed with the desire to wrap her arms around him. To draw him to her breast and hold him close as his mother had done.

Which was precisely what she did, in her dream.

Her arms slid around his shoulders, and she drew him in, his face to her chest. Thus supported, he sagged into her and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding so tight, and suddenly, Raquel did not want to let him go for as long as she lived.

“I can’t stop it,” Jake whispered against her skin, his voice shattered by grief.

In her dream, she grabbed his face between her hands and tilted it up. Stars in heaven, he was so beautiful, even more so in his grief with vulnerability spilling down his cheeks. It softened those sharp angles, melted the steel. It made this immortal kithhuman.

And his humanity was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“If you truly cannot stop it, then let it go,” she whispered, and bent down to kiss his full mouth. In her dream, he tasted familiar. Like comfort and warmth and safety.

Likehome.

Jake kissed her back like a man clinging desperately to his life. As if she were the only thing keeping him from rotting away like the world all around them.

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