Page 7 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

The bourbon heated my esophagus. I let it pool in my belly a minute before answering what he already knew.

"I'm finding that the past has found a way to claw into the present. Turns out, I’m just as wrecked as I was the day Raina and I ended."

More so, in fact. I’d done all I could to burn her memory to ashes, to ensure she hated me as much as I’d believed I’d hated her.

Her indifference had been my undoing and I ended up acting in ways I could never take back, desperate for a reaction from the ice queen. Desperate to cut her down to the bone just as she had cut me.

Fucking my way through Falcondale failed to stir, much less injure, my former lover. It damaged me in irrevocable ways. For a time, I had been the worst sort of male and for all the wrong reasons.

Sadly, there was nothing to be done about it now.

"I see," Nox murmured, his tone laced with understanding. "Love can indeed leave deep scars."

"Scars are nothing," I muttered under my breath, my heart warring against the pride that had cost me everything.

Her absence was a ceaseless ache that was nearly impossible to ignore, let alone speak of matters of defense and strategy without distraction.

I'd buried the pain, most of it at least, only for it to come roaring back when her name was drawn for the trials. I thought I could handle it, had even assured Nox and Lorne I could.

Then I saw her and knew I'd been fooling myself.

"Speak your mind, Duersi." Nox's command was gentle, yet firm, using my surname as he did when we sparred. "If you don't get some of that weight off your chest you're going to suffocate."

"Raina is ... she was ..." I struggled with the words, enduring the shame of my king’s stare going from concern to pity.

I didn’t need pity, especially not frombothNox and Aeryn. Seconds ticked by.

"As much as I loathe saying it, perhaps you should consider visiting Ephandor like you'd originally planned," Nox suggested.

"Running from shadows does not banish them," I replied. "Can we not discuss this now? I need to be occupied by other things."

Nox searched my face until finally showing mercy. "Understood," he said, steering the conversation back to matters of security.

As soon as Nox and I adjourned, I excused myself quickly. The need for a moment of solitude was overwhelming, and I needed to clear my head before facing the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, my private space didn't exactly mean I was alone.

My chambers were adorned with paintings, sketches, and other forms of art that I had created over the years. They were my refuge in moments like this, moments where I was unsettled and unfocused.

I walked around the room, taking in the pieces that lined the walls and shelves. Each one represented a different emotion, a different memory that I had captured.

There was a painting of a serene forest scene that reminded me of Ephandor. It was one of the last pieces I completed before leaving my childhood home and coming to work at Thornewood.

It was too hard living in my father’s shadow, and then in my brother’s. As warriors, they understood. As family? Not so much.

Next to the painting was a sculpture of two lovers locked in an eternal embrace, their bodies intertwined in an intricate dance. Though their faces were nondescript, I’d created it back when Raina and I were together, inspired by my hopes and desires.

I reached out to touch it, relishing the coolness against my fingertips. Underneath the base, I noticed the stack of papers I’d pretended weren’t piling up.

Pulling one out, I held it aloft, tracing the lines of Raina's face, sketched in a moment of weakness, a moment of pining. I was an artist haunted by my own creations.

I looked around. She was everywhere. Maniacally, I'd recently taken to recreating her visage, her hands and feminine feet, even her mass of white hair that surely weighed more than she did.

"Get over it, Liam," I whispered to the empty room, the parchment beneath my fingers crumpling slightly.

I was through with this weakness. Anger, with myself, with the situation, and definitely with her, exploded through me. I ripped the paper in my hands, the pieces falling like ash to the rug.

A reckless energy fueled me, pushing me to keep going, to destroy every image of her I could find. Images I’d pulled from my mind and put onto paper.

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