Page 48 of Curse of Thorns
“A meeting room of sorts. It was a gift from Georgio of the Crackling Court, a High King a few hundred years ago. His mate and queen were of the Shadow Court, so he built this place for her.”
“Wow,” Caelynn breathes. Her eyes are wide in awe as she runs her fingers over the dusty furniture. “It’s incredible.”
“It’s said to have been made in the likeness of the Shadow Palace.”
My respect for the Shadow Court went up tenfold the day I first entered this room so long ago; although, it only lasted a few weeks. Because the day a shadow fae assassin slipped into my brother’s room and murdered him, my respect turned to acid and ate away at me.
I remember the way the Shadow Court celebrated his death. They were proud of their young assassin. It’s one of the reasons I respect Caelynn, despite what she’s done—she doesn’t relish the act the way I’d expected based on her court’s reaction.
They painted her to be a hero. Like killing a young fae was something to be revered. But she doesn’t. She hates what she did. And she hates the way they romanticize it.
She did it for me.
“It’s incredible, Rev,” she says, her voice breathy. “They’re phantoms, a relation of the shadow sprites.” She watches the forms on the ceiling.
“They’re living creatures?” I ask. I hadn’t realized. But then, this room always had felt alive.
She nods. “They won’t speak to you directly the way the sprites occasionally do, but they send messages by playing an act. Visitors in the Whisperwood have often said that monsters hunted them, chasing them away from the proper path. Or that there were entire villages of shadow people hiding in the forest. But they are the phantoms. Playing tricks on travelers, or helping, depending on their mood.”
I look up at their moving forms. “What do you think their mood is now?”
A soft hum begins from above us, a gentle beat. Then, the forms shift into a clear image. A couple dancing. Caelynn chuckles. “It’s a waltz.”
I smile. “I think they want us to dance.”
Our eyes meet, and my smile fades as her lips part. She’s hypnotizingly beautiful. I find myself begging for any way to undo the past. For some way for this, us, to be right.
I suppose it can be here in this moment, with no one around to judge us. With no expectations of what tomorrow may bring.
A temporary dream.
My heart aches and soars at the same time as I hold out my hand. She takes it, her skin zinging against mine, warming my blood in the same way the welcoming dark magic of this room did.
I decide quickly, if I do become king of this palace one day, I’m going to fix up this room and revive it. I’ll be able to feel her here. She’ll be with me every moment I spend here, even when she’s far, far away.
I pull her in close, throwing the true form of a waltz out the window, and press our bodies together. She lets out another gasp, and my head spins with desire.
If this moment is all we have, I’ll live it to the fullest.
We spin together, rocking and twirling to the gentle beat of the phantoms above. They dance with us—Caelynn and I, together in the way we were always meant to be.
Light and dark. Push and pull. Love and hate.
Caelynn licks her lips, and it does something to me, aching deep down in my bones. I swallow, and we slow to a stop.
Her breath is shallow as we stand there beneath the phantoms, who continue their dance. Her heaving chest is pressed against mine. I have one hand at her back and the other at her shoulder, her skin tingling beneath my fingertips.
I reach for a strand of her hair that curls over her shoulder, loosened from its binds, and I rub it beneath my fingers.
She doesn’t move, and neither do I. For minutes, we stand there together.
Her eyes dart up to the ceiling, where the silhouette of two large faces appear. Slowly, they approach each other until they connect in a gentle kiss.
Caelynn smirks. “Matchmakers tonight, are you?”
But they’re not wrong. Caelynn and I are like two magnets. Opposites, who cannot help but drift together. I stop fighting it, this pull, and I lean in. Her eyes widen. She pauses, her breath tickling my jaw.
Then, she jerks forward fiercely pressing her lips to mine.
