“He forgave you for those ninety years in Hell,” Laurie said into the darkness.
I faltered for a moment. A storm raged in my heart. Forgiveness? Collith? No, I thought again. I took a shuddering breath that I hoped the faerie in the bed wouldn’t hear, and then reached for the doorknob.
A gust of air stirred my hair. Laurie flattened his hands on either side of me, trapping me against the door. I felt his bare thigh against my fist, making me realize he was still naked. “Okay, fine,” he purred in my ear. “You have a taste for bargains. What if we make it interesting?”
I faced him. Laurie leaned away slightly, giving me enough room to turn, but not much more than that. His chest pressed against mine as I raised my gaze. He probably expected a light response, to settle into our usual back-and-forth, but I glared at him through a sheen of tears. “He used me. He lied to me. He—”
“Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Laurie countered. “By now, you probably know the real story behind Collith’s scar. I was so in love with him that I couldn’t see straight. Then, the first and only time we fucked, I felt him take it. My power. He didn’t get all of it—only a little piece, really—but I felt just how you do now. I was so blinded by fury that I tried to cut his face open. When that didn’t make me feel better, I gave Sylvyre the spell that went on to kill Naevys.”
“And you still didn’t bother telling me the truth?” I shoved at him. “You knew all this time, Laurie! You had a thousand opportunities to prevent what happened to you from happening to someone else. Not only that, but I told you about the crossroads. I showed you how much it meant… how much I…”
Laurie’s eyes were like frozen metal. “I didn’t divulge Collith’s true ability because I saw an opportunity. A way to test my theory.”
“A test?” I echoed, my temper flaring again.
“Yes, but not for you. It was for him. I wanted to see if he would tell you the truth before he bedded you. Because if he truly didn’t know what he was capable of, as he claims, it would mean that all of this was for nothing. Cutting his face, giving Sylvyre the spell that he used on Naevys, losing…” Laurie stopped.
I was rigid with rage. Behind us, the fire died again, its weak light giving way to shadows and flickers. “I assume he failed your little test, then? Since he didn’t tell me?”
“Yes. Yes, he failed.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it.” My voice was soft. Haunted. As quickly as the fire had gone out, so had my fury. A frustrated, helpless sort of sorrow had taken its place. Maybe if Laurie had told me the truth about Collith sooner, I wouldn’t have killed all those people in the black market. I wouldn’t have helped Viessa take the throne. I wouldn’t have gone to Cyrus and asked him to burn my pain away.
No. Dad had taught me better than this. Those were my choices, my mistakes, and I alone owned them.
Faeries still fucking sucked, though. As a general rule.
Laurie hadn’t moved or spoken. He knew, damn him. He knew I was going to help. I was responsible for Collith’s current circumstances, and however much he deserved it, I couldn’t leave him here. The guilt would eat me alive.
“What’s our play, then?” I asked, trying not to sigh. Defeat felt like a weight on my shoulders. I was too tired to be angry at Laurie. What was one more betrayal? I shouldn’t have expected any less from a faerie king.
To keep thoughts like this at bay, I focused on the task ahead. It was probably mid-morning, which meant the passages would be full of fae. Courtiers, Guardians, servants, and all the rest of the teeming, underground Court. As a stranger here, I’d thought this place was so still and eerie. It was still those things, but now that I had been connected to every single one of its inhabitants, I knew the patterns and the sounds. But there were still monsters, and there were still a lot of ways to get killed.
Rescuing Collith was one of them.
I waited to hear Laurie’s brilliant plan, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at me with a faint frown creasing the edges of his mouth. Silence, coming from him, was almost as unnerving as meeting the Rat King. I realized Laurie must’ve seen something in my face, or maybe heard it in my voice, that revealed the ache inside my chest.
“You’re right,” he said, making me blink. “I made a choice that was selfish. Cruel, even. I think I’d do things differently if I could. But Collith has been an unanswered question for decades, and I seized the chance to finally get one.”
I stared at him. “You think you’d do things differently? You think? God, you’re such an asshole.”
“He certainly is. So am I. Do you want an apology or do you want to get something out of it?”
This was usually the part where I rolled my eyes and agreed. But this time I said nothing, did nothing—the ache had gotten too sharp. A muscle ticked in Laurie’s jaw, and it was one of the few moments he’d allowed me to see beneath the mask.
“Fortuna. I know I would do things differently, all right?” he said, uncharacteristically solemn.
It wasn’t okay. But it was inevitable that I helped him, and I needed to regain control of myself, anyway. I owed Laurie a debt after what he’d done at the tomb, and I could forget about personal vendettas when there was a chance to cross out a line in my ledger.
While I’d been thinking, Laurie had drawn close again. His bare chest brushed against my nipples through the nightgown, and he bent his head next to mine. “I’m sorry,” he said in my ear.
The feel of his breath made my core tighten—I remembered how that breath had felt between my open legs. As if I could run from the feeling, I ducked beneath Laurie’s arm and stalked across the room. There was nowhere to go other than the bed. Too dangerous. I stopped in front of the fire and put my hands over the heat. The desire building inside me didn’t fade.
Without looking away from the pile of charred wood and ash I asked, “Why are you so certain that Collith was lying to you? He was younger then. He wasn’t even king. Maybe he really didn’t know.”
Laurie remained by the door, and once again, the pitch black hid most of his features. I couldn’t see his expression as he said, “He’s a faerie, my queen. Lying is what we do best.”
When he said that, I reconsidered holding a grudge against him. It was the least of what he deserved. Moments like this reminded me how different we were. Maybe too different, even for friendship. Those differences were what had led Laurie to kill Ian O’Connell, which I still hadn’t forgotten about. I’d just… set the knowledge aside, because that was easier than distancing myself from him.
I could hate Laurie for what he’d done, or what he’d chosen not to do. But hate felt like a winged shadow inside me, growing bigger every time I gave myself to the darkness. I hugged myself and frowned down at the pulsing embers.
Without the fog of anger clinging to me, I could see certain things more clearly now. Laurie had known this conversation was coming—that was why he’d dodged so many of my questions. Why he’d looked at me, my naked body, in a way that seemed wistful or resigned. He knew he’d have to tell the truth of his own shitty choices and deceptions, and once I found out, I probably wouldn’t let him touch me again.