The Fairy Queen (The Dark Queens Book 6) by Jovee Winters

Author:Jovee Winters [Winters, Jovee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alice in wonderland, Mythology, fairy tale romance, peter pan, humorous romance
Publisher: Jovee Winters
Published: 2016-10-05T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: In Which a Fairy Begins to Let Go...

Galeta

I walked around the hut, and even the grounds surrounding it, later that day when I’d finally deigned to stir. Looking for Syrith in order to apologize for my abominable behavior the night before.

He hadn’t deserved my rancor. But the shock of witnessing the past had been terrible to bear, and I had done what I’d always done—I’d retreated into my shell. Into my armor. Pushing people away because I couldn’t handle feeling the press of their judgment upon me.

I didn’t know how to be anything other than what I’d always been.

Cruel.

Alone.

Isolated.

But I’d felt his presence on the other side of the door all night. Again keeping watch over me. I’d wanted to get up and go to him.

I simply hadn’t known how.

But when I’d finally been brave enough to leave the isolation of my room, he was gone. And so here I sat, at the table, staring into a bowl of now-tepid gray broth and fearing I’d lost my only ally in this place.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I whispered tightly. I’d been all alone, and then he’d found me and brought life with him.

I hadn’t liked it. A part of me had even resented his intrusion into the sins of my past, but now that he was gone... My throat squeezed tight, and my face crumpled. I didn’t want to be alone either.

How was it possible that I had any more tears left to cry?

And yet the burn of them continued to trek down my face.

Reaching into the hidden pocket, to the vial of death I kept tucked tight against my breast, I gently fluttered my fingers across it.

Pop.

Whirling in my seat, knowing the marker tunnel travel left behind, I watched as Syrith’s body collapsed like dead weight upon the steel-gray couch.

With a cry wrenched from my soul, I jumped to my feet. Rushing toward him.

“Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead.” I whispered the mantra over and over again.

My heart was a fluttering beat of hummingbird’s wings inside my chest when I finally got to him and saw his chest rise and fall with breath. Collapsing with relief, I felt my legs give out beneath me, and my upper half draped over him.

And this time when I cried, I wasn’t even sure why.

All I knew was I felt such a massive wave of relief that it shook me to my core.

Burying my face in his chest, I inhaled his heady fragrance of smoke and ash and male, trembling as I realized that the thought of him dying or being gone for good had affected me far more than almost anything else ever had before it.

I was sniffing into his shirt, staining it with my tears. I needed to get myself together, needed to move off of him and compose myself. That way, when he awoke, I wouldn’t look like the blubbering idiot I had now become.

“Why do you cry, fae?” His deep voice cut like ice through my thoughts.

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