Page 53 of His Dark Delights
“What happened, Ren?” I whispered.
His throat bobbed with a dragged-out swallow, and he faced the disintegrating home again. “I was a young man when I found out I was a bastard of the king. Part of the small stipend he sent my mother each month helped provide food in our bellies and a weak fire in our hearth in the winters. But his charity wasn’t enough, and Mother returned to her job in the skin houses to make sure I had an education and that I had medicine when I grew sick. She sacrificed so much for me and loved me despite being a burden from a man in power who could have helped her.”
My lower lip trembled, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hide it. My thumb stroked over the back of Soren’s hand, encouraging him to continue when he sucked in a ragged breath.
“I joined the ranks to bring home extra income. If I supported my mother, I could make her life easier. That was all I ever wanted.” His shoulders dropped, and his head tipped back to the sky. “When I was away with other soldiers, a fae got into the city. He visited the skin house Mother was working at, and I guess he didn’t like the service she provided. I returned to find her already buried in a shallow grave. While buried in drinks and grief, the royal family caught a plague, and the council came searching for me. They dragged me off once the last prince died and crowned me a week after theyentombed the king. There was so much power suddenly in my hands, and so much hatred for the fae for taking away the one person who truly loved me.”
“And you started the war,” my voice came out thin and tremulous. My heart shattered for Ren and the pain he experienced, but his quest for revenge still twisted at my insides.
“Wouldn’t you have done the same for your father?”
The question shocked me. I gaped up, face blanched.
“Gods, no. One felonious fae is equal to one nefarious human. There are going to be bad eggs in the clutch every so often, but that doesn’t mean the entire batch is ruined.” I dropped Ren’s hand, shaking my head. “My father died of sickness, and instead of placing blame or hunting for a villain, I allowed myself to experience the grief and the pain of his loss. Then I picked myself up and lived on. That’s what he would have wanted, for me to live and be happy.”
A morose grin teased the corner of his mouth. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it is,” I insisted. I leashed back my fear and reinforced my confidence. “What of all the innocent fae who never hurt anyone? What of the men and women who only want to care for their families being forced to fight in a war that they have no stake in? And what about all the half-fae in the world who had no choice in their parentage? Should they suffer for being the product of star-crossed lovers?”
“Lilly,” Soren began, but I cut him off, unable to stop. My words tumbled out fast, riding on the tail end of my conviction.
“Most of all, what would your mother think of your actions? How would she react if a king called the FairyButcher walked through her door? Would she greet a man capable of such savagery and cruelty with a smile on her face?”
His chest shuddered with a heavy exhale. He turned his stormy eyes on me. A hint of remorse swam in the depths, mingling with a desire for repentance. His gaze drifted to his hands, studying them as if seeing all the blood that stained his skin.
Ren curled his fists and spoke through gritted teeth. “If I’m being honest with myself, I know she would despise it. My mother would not approve. She’d want me to move on. You know, she never hated my father for leaving us in these conditions? She… she always forgave.”
I placed my hand on his then. His eyes flicked up to my face. I curled my dainty fingers around his wrist and pulled him closer to whisper, “Then you do not fight this war for her, Ren.”
His eyes gleamed under the fading daylight with the tears he was too proud to shed. Before I could draw breath, he threw himself at me. Two burly arms curled around my shoulders and a fist threaded through the tresses of my hair. He was warm and solid but trembling, unlike anything I’d ever felt in him before.
It was here—the moment I’d worked my way into his heart for. My moment to make a true difference. After tonight, I could ask the King to end the war and begin peace talks with the fae. It had to be now when he was vulnerable, and I was the pillar of his strength.
“I want to move on… I want to be happy,” his voice broke, and he choked back a sob.
“You can, Ren.” I nuzzled into his chest, soaking in his heat and the quick thump of his heart against myear.
He spoke into my hair, hot breath tickling my cheek. “I want to be happy with you, Lilly. And I want you to be happy with me.”
The tears he refused to shed pricked at the corner of my eyes as if I wept for him. Despite my courage and desire to stay strong for him, with him, I broke. Feelings and emotions swelled high in my chest, threatening to drown me if I didn’t get the thick words off my tongue.
“You know what to do to achieve that, Ren. And I wanted the same thing, because I love—” a glint across the street interrupted me. A sharp and silver object whistled through the air, racing toward Ren’s blindside.
“Ren!”
A sword arched through the air in the middle of the road, cleaving through wood. An arrow shattered in half, clattering onto the cobblestone street.
Soren tucked me behind his back as he pivoted on his heel. The guard who cut down the arrow nodded at Soren while the other two knights swept out of the darkness. They bolted toward the opposite building, where a cloaked figure rose from the rooftop. The figure tossed the cloak and unfurled three sets of shimmering—wings? Wings mirroring a butterfly, rippling with iridescent shades of green, blue, and purple under the thinning sunset.
His hood fell back as he leapt into the air, and I knew the man at once as the fae I’d bumped into on the street. He must have recognized Soren and followed us. Rotten snakes twisted and writhed in my stomach, forcing bile to claw at the back of my throat.
“A fae assassin!” a guard bellowed, pointing his sword toward the assailant climbing into the sky.
Soren tucked me behind his back as he pivoted on his heel. The guard who cut down the arrow nodded at Soren while the other two knights swept out of the darkness. They bolted toward the opposite building, where a cloaked figure rose from the rooftop. The figure tossed the cloak and unfurled three sets of shimmering—wings? Wings mirroring a butterfly, rippling with iridescent shades of green, blue, and purple under the thinning sunset.
His hood fell back as he leapt into the air, and I knew the man at once as the fae I’d bumped into on the street. He must have recognized Soren and followed us. Rotten snakes twisted and writhed in my stomach, forcing bile to claw at the back of my throat.
“A fae assassin!” a guard bellowed, pointing his sword toward the assailant darting into the sky.
