The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,109
She doesn’t breathe.
She’s gone.
Surrounding her body, they hook arms as their wings wilt. Then they begin to wail. It’s an otherworldly keening sound full of sorrow.
They saved their tears for after she passed. They made her last moments joyful.
So selfless and touching.
I wish I could be that brave. That strong.
But I’m not.
I’ve been a sniveling, snotty mess ever since they took her from my hands.
Damon pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket and passes it to me. While I’m mopping my wrecked face, I spot something else in his palm. A little velvet pouch. He loosens the strings and I lean over to peek inside. My eyes widen. I’m looking at least a dozen emeralds.
He extends it to me and gestures to a tree stump next to us. “Dump them out there.”
Taking it, I hesitate. “Are you sure it won’t be an insult? Maisel used her last wish to make sure we wouldn’t have to pay.”
“Yeah, gold,” Damon specifies, sending me a bittersweet grin. “These are gems, and sprites would never turn them down. If anything, they’ll see it as a token of good will. The promise of our silence.”
I do as he says, shaking the pouch until all the jewels are in a small pile.
The sprites don’t pay us any mind as we walk away. No goodbye. I’m not sure if it’s because they’re busy mourning their friend, or if it’d be like this anyway. Because, clearly, they give zero fucks about royalty.
And I like that.
I like them. I’m fascinated by their culture. I wish there was a way to bridge the gap between their world and ours, but maybe it’s better left alone. Maybe they’re safer hidden away, keeping their distance and their secrets.
My head is spinning as we trek back to the road.
For days I’ve been shifting between the different stages of grief. Denial was pointless. Bargaining didn’t work. Sadness doesn’t fix anything.
Now I’m just mad.
The coven will pay. How dare they take so much away from me? I never did anything to them. Neither did Damon. He wasn’t even born yet when they decided to inflict the cruelty of the curse.
And my parents… If they hadn’t died in the crash, I might’ve been able to convince them to move here with me. We could’ve been one big happy family.
I think of Isla, and how awesome it would’ve been if she’d moved to the Dream Realm to be with Tibbs. We could’ve been friends. Gone on double dates. Raised our kids together.
It would’ve been wonderful to have Maisel by my side in the years to come. For a little while, she was my confidant. Even with all our differences, she fit right in with Astrid and me. We were an unlikely trio, but somehow, it was right.
So many possibilities, gone.
How many people have to lose their lives because of the coven? They must be stopped.
But another death is looming.
Damon’s.
And I won’t survive that one.
Damon
I’d forgotten how loud the waterfall is. Even though we’re a quarter mile away on the wedding ridge, the rushing roar is a constant, soothing sound. Mist floats up from below, and the foggy wisps curl out from the flowers, bushes, and trees surrounding the ceremonial clearing.
It feels wrong to be setting up camp around such a special area, but this is the largest open field in this forest, aside from the one where we’ll meet the witches.
At least the location is convenient. Tomorrow, Whitley and I will be married just outside this formation of tents. It won’t be the most romantic wedding with strangers all around us, but it will be the safest.
A soldier walks by me as I head back to Whitley, and he shouts something about digging pit traps around the perimeter.
Like that could keep the witches out.
It certainly won’t keep Whitley and me in.
I already know we’re going to be lured away. When and how, no clue, but if extra precautions make Zander’s army feel more useful, then they can go ahead.
When I duck into our tent, Whitley brushes past me as she busies herself with interior decorating. From the way she’s setting this place up, you’d think we were staying here a lot longer than one night.
But I get it.
She’s stressed, Maisel’s death is fresh, and I was too hard on her yesterday.
I should’ve heard her out at the distillery, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. Now that I’ve cooled off, I can admit I let my emotions get the best of me.