Page 154 of Never Kiss a Fae
Yeah.
Like that was going to happen.
He’d just admitted tosharingwomen with Exos. Which… was fucking hot. And so, so, so wrong.
“Stop fretting,” he whispered, his palm sliding to my lower back. “Do you see the dark patch up there?” He pointed with his opposite hand, highlighting a particularly ominous-looking hole in the landscape ahead. “That’s the entrance to the death fields.”
I swallowed. “Okay. What exactly is a death field?” He’d mentioned the taunts, but that really didn’t tell me anything. I mean, how did a fieldtalk?
“I believe you would call them cemeteries,” he murmured, his touch a brand against my spine. “But these are Spirit Fae tombs. Tormented Spirit Fae.”
“The plague,” I whispered.
“Yes. It’s where we buried the dead.”
Hence, death fields, I translated.Right. “But their souls still live?”
“To an extent.” He started walking again, the pressure along my lower back forcing me to move alongside him. “Most fae live several hundred years, but Spirit Fae are known to live longer. We embody life and death, after all. But most of the victims lying in that field died far too young, long before their spirits were ready to leave.”
He continued in silence, his heartache a palpable presence in the link we’d forged. Deep inside, he felt responsible, like he’d let his people down. The guilt of it washed over me, the hardship of having to lead a dying breed and the helplessness that accompanied it. He and Exos were the last of their kind, the last Royal Fae, and if they didn’t continue their legacy, his entire kingdom would die.
“It does something to a fae to have their bodies die before their souls are ready to move on,” he added, his voice gruff. “And that’s what the death fields have become. That’s what Titus feared, what everyone fears. The words I said to you are just a taste of what you’ll hear here, Claire. These spirits are desperate and deteriorated, and all they do is writhe in a sea of despair.”
“Can nothing be done for them?” I asked, feeling the desolation creeping over me with every step closer to the vapid hole before us. Maybe it was all in my mind, maybe it was from the link with Cyrus, but I suspected it was more. I could almost hear their screams.
“We’ve tried.” His palm flexed against my back, his demeanor shifting. “They were originally buried in family plots, but the darkness spread, infecting those nearby and driving what few remained insane. It’s why we created this place, why we reburied them all here, as far away from Springfall as possible. But they’ve only grown harsher, more restless, and there are those who believe the sickness will spread once more.”
I stopped midstep, glancing up at him. “Am I putting myself in danger by crossing that threshold? Can I become sick?”
“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate, the answer certain. “As can I. But if you ignore the taunts, realize they’re just words and not reality, you’ll be okay.”
“I don’t understand.”
He fully faced me. “The sickness they carry is a darkness of spirit, one that corrupts and controls, but if you ignore them and the cruelty they spread, you won’t fall victim to their plight.”
“So it’s not like a contagious disease,” I clarified.
“Not like your human world, no. It’s a corrosion of life.” He glanced at the paling sky, his expression thoughtful. “Think of it like being told you’re worthless your entire life and finally believing it. What happens?”
“You become depressed.”
“Well, yes, but I mean beyond that. Surely you’ve heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Where if you believe something enough, you’ll make it happen.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“That’s what these tormented essences do. They warp you into believing you’re evil, despicable, a failure, until all you want to do is die. And then maybe you forget to eat. You forget how tolive, thereby killing your body while your spirit remains.”
“That’s a horrible way to go,” I whispered.
“It’s a horrible thing to observe,” he countered.
“But I thought the Spirit Fae all died in one day,” I said, recalling the story Exos once told me. “That my mother and Mortus fought, and nearly ninety percent of the Spirit Fae died as a result?”
He tilted his chin once. “Yes. But it was as if they all lost the will to live at once, and just stopped. Their spirits rose, leaving their bodies to rot, and that’s what we buried. Only, the souls eventually came back, but their hosts were no longer viable, leaving them in this constant state of turmoil.”
“So could they ever be rejoined?” I asked, picturing hundreds of zombie bodies being repossessed by dead spirits. That sounded… bad.
Fortunately, Cyrus negated the idea with a swift shake. “No. There’s nothing that can be done for them now. We just have to wait for their spirits to move on, except they seem unable to, as the circle of life has been so vastly disrupted. As I said, you’re the youngest of our kind. No other females have been able to conceive since that day, and what’s worse, it’s spreading.”
