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Chapter Text

Achaicus POV

“I can’t sleep,” I said to Markos as I stood in front of where he sat at his desk in the infirmary. It was mid-afternoon, and the warm light from the sun was starting to cast elongated shadows through the room. He didn’t look up from the report he was writing, undoubtedly about the injuries sustained during the day’s training. He was particularly focused, and I could only imagine the unnecessarily dull and clinical language he was using to torture my brother when Nathaniel would look over them later.

“Oh?” He asked with mild, distracted curiosity. “Care to elaborate or do you expect me to read your mind?” He didn’t look up from his report and I stood there fidgeting like a nervous child. I clasped my hands together in front of me as I forced myself to still.

“It’s been three days since I was able to sleep for longer than an hour at any one time. My mind keeps racing, and I can’t keep… certain thoughts from intruding.” Molly’s face haunted me more than I cared to admit, and by the look he gave me when he paused to finally consider me I could tell he had an accurate idea of my situation despite my vague wording.

“It’s likely psychosomatic, then.” He said with a gentleness that surprised me. Was that sympathy? The idea of Markos pitying me brought feelings of inadequacy to the surface, and I scowled.

I pressed my lips together, trying to keep a handle on the anger that fluttered in my chest. I didn’t need pity, I needed him to do his job and help me. “And what am I supposed to do with that information?” I asked, exasperated that he wouldn’t just give me a straight answer or solution to my problem. Markos shrugged and went back to writing. “Drowning your sorrows isn’t working?” The casual, offhand inquiry made a muscle in my jaw tick. I had taken specific care to hide just how much fae wine I’d been drinking since we’d returned to Dunkel, but it seemed he had noticed. The man was annoyingly observant and tucked away information like a squirrel burying nuts for a winter’s day.

“It is not.” I said curtly, my desire for help outweighing my offense that he had blatantly called out my secret. Markos rested his head on his hand with his elbow leaning on the desk as he continued to scrawl long, complicated words in beautiful, flowing cursive. His expression remained neutral, and it was hard to tell if he was thinking or just ignoring me for the fun of it. The silence that followed stretched my already fraying patience to its snapping point. I stepped forward and placed my hands forcefully onto the desk in front of him, demanding his attention. “Markos! I don’t have time to sit here and wait for you to finish your reports. Look at me, people are going to start questioning my ability to make sound decisions! I look horrible!” I felt even worse, but he didn’t have to know about that.

I might have put more force behind the action than intended, and his ink well tipped over and spilled its contents across the report he’d nearly finished. He didn’t move for a moment and I retracted myself from the desk, clearing my throat as I tried to think of what to say. He let out a tired sigh and finally shifted his violet eyes to me. They held promise of a painful demise, despite the sedate smile that pulled on his lips. “And here I thought we were finally past the violent tantrum phase.”

My face scrunched with unpleasant emotion, but I returned his smile. “I would like something to help me sleep.”

“Have you tried actually talking to someone about the traumatic event you went through and the obviously dark emotions you’re struggling with?” He asked, unabashedly forward with his remarks and unyielding despite my admittedly childish attempt to intimidate him. “Not me, of course.” He continued before I could respond. “I have enough on my plate with the wailings of one child; I don’t need to add another. Perhaps your brother would be willing to lend an ear? Or Charles? He might have a better understanding of your ‘unique troubles.’”

I exhaled sharply through my nose. Sometimes Markos’s humor left a bad taste in my mouth, especially when it was at my expense. “Please, Markos, I need your help.” I could hear the pathetic whine even in my own ears and cringed inwardly at how I must have appeared to him- the destitute ‘heir’ once again too weak to handle the challenges life threw at him, needing someone else to come along and clean up his mess.

Something he saw on my face must have convinced him, or perhaps he was just too tired to deal with me any longer, for he stood with an exaggerated flourish and no further resistance. He walked over to a cabinet with various pill bottles lined up behind the see-through glass doors and opened one, grabbing a bottle and tossing it to me without looking in my direction. I nearly dropped it as he returned to his desk. 

“I would tell you not to take those with alcohol but I know I’d be wasting my breath.” He said without emotion as he crumpled up the ink-stained report and tossed it in the trash. “Now leave, I need to get this done before the shadows reach the last bed.”

I squeezed the bottle in my hand, feeling a bit hopeful. I lingered for a moment longer, and he glanced up at me with a silent, questioning look. “Thank you,” I said with a bit of effort and he made an uncomfortable face. “If you are truly grateful you will stop darkening my doorstep and go get some sleep. You look awful.”

I smiled despite the insult, feeling lighter than I had since- 

My thoughts stopped abruptly. I turned around as sharply as I changed my line of thinking, and didn’t look back as I left. My long hair swished behind me as I closed the door, and I tried to keep an even pace as I moved to return to my room. I could only hope that these pills would finally grant me peace.

Chapter Text

Achaicus POV

The pills didn’t work.

At first I tried to be good and heed Markos’ warning about not mixing the pills with alcohol. They were rather peculiar- smooth and shiny instead of matte and dull like other pills I had taken before. When I dry swallowed them there was a slight sweetness that lingered on my tongue before I chased them with water, which was nice. Most medicine was quite bitter. I made a note to tell Markos that he should see if he could get more medicine made like this.

I had noticed embarrassingly late that there was no dosage on the bottle and had to trudge all the way back to the infirmary to ask. He had paused before answering, making me think for the briefest of moments that he was unsure, but then he finished his report with a flurry of his wrist as he signed it. Of course, he was just making me wait. Part of me suspected that he did this just to enjoy holding power over me, but before I could complain he spoke. “Two by mouth. Swallow them whole, no chewing. They have a special slow-release coating on the outside.” 

“Ah, alright.” I’d said as I stood awkwardly in the doorway to his office once again. I wasn’t sure if I should thank him a second time, but the glare he shot me had me scurrying out without another word.

I had been very excited and exceptionally hopeful as I settled into my nightly routine. When my ‘unique problem,’ as Markos put it, first began I had done some research on my own in hopes that I could find a solution without involving anyone else. I’d read that routine was very important, which was great because I loved routine. Routines were predictable, routines were safe; and as I sat in front of my vanity braiding my hair in preparation for sleep a soothing calmness settled over me. It might have been my mind playing tricks on me, but I could already feel my eyes getting heavy as I stripped out of my ruffled, cream colored long sleeved shirt, neatly pressed brown slacks, and simple, white underwear. I folded them up and put them into my hamper before I strode into the bathroom to clean myself. 

I didn’t allow myself to linger in the bath, despite the temptation to do so. The soap I used was lavender scented- another tidbit of knowledge I’d picked up during my research. Lavender was often used in aromatherapy to facilitate relaxation, and I worried if I stayed too long I’d fall asleep in the water. With my luck that’s how I’d die, and I could just imagine the gossip now: Klein heir found dead in the bathtub, completely naked! Strongest fae born in millennia, and he was taken out by some pretty scented water! And did you hear? The craziest thing is they say he was-

I blinked and sat up abruptly in the still-warm water. This was usually the point where I would poor myself an unhealthily full glass of wine. These intrusive thought spirals had always plagued me, but they had become more frequent as of late. I stood up and water cascaded down my body, leaving me chilled as I stepped out and grabbed a towel. I tried to keep my mind blank as I dried myself off, but my thoughts kept twisting into mangled, jagged pieces that threatened to cut me like shards of broken glass. I found myself reaching for a half empty bottle of wine that was sitting on the bathroom sink- I had stashed bottles all over my room in case of emergency- when I felt a sudden, strong tug at the center of my being. It felt like someone had tied a rope around my stomach and was using it to pull me in the direction of my room. 

Filled with a combination of curiosity and dread I slowly stepped out of my bathroom and into the main sitting area. I was half expecting to see Molly’s decaying corpse standing in the middle of the room, her milky white eyes staring out of her bloated face at me while her peeling, blue lips spoke forbidden curses that promised me nothing but horrible suffering- but the room was blessedly empty. Relief flooded me and I ran my hands over my face. I thought the pills must have been kicking in because I suddenly found myself unsteady on my feet. I stumbled over to my dresser, having only enough strength in me to pull on a clean pair of undergarments before I made my way over to my bed. It felt like the room was going to turn sideways, and I fell on top of my sheets with little grace.

My head spun as I laid there, staring up at the wooden canopy above me. I felt dizzy in a not unpleasant way. It was akin to being intoxicated, which was nice. I closed my eyes as I waited for sleep to come to me, and it wasn’t long until my consciousness faded.

I woke up with a start some time later, and at first I wasn’t sure what had caused it. A quick glance at the slight shift in the shadows on the floor told me that it had been barely an hour since I’d laid down. I sat up, rubbing my head as I tried to process what had disturbed my sleep. I was beyond frustrated as I had, once again, been denied the rest I so desperately needed. I stood up and walked over to my desk, picking up another one of my emergency wine bottles. I pulled the cork off and began pouring burgundy liquid into a glass that was already on the desk. My pride prevented me from acknowledging the fact that it was dirty from previous use, and I was too tired to care.

My hand jolted as I felt another sharp tug in my abdomen, so forceful it almost made me stumble backwards and did make me spill wine all over my desk. I cursed as I looked around for a cloth to clean it up before it stained anything of import. I probably should have been more concerned about what was trying to drag me to the middle of my bedroom but I was too scared to look behind me. When I couldn’t sleep I saw Molly. I saw her in varying states of decay. Sometimes she looked just as she did right after I killed her. She talked to me then, telling me it was my fault she had betrayed me. That I hadn’t been the man she deserved and that my weak will made her look elsewhere. Sometimes her flesh was rotting off her bones and I would watch in abject horror as her body fell apart. I kept telling myself that as long as I didn’t look, I was fine, so I ignored the ominous feeling behind me and poured the rest of the wine into my glass. I drank it all in one go, and when I lowered the glass from my lips my head was already spinning. I glanced over my shoulder to check for Molly’s ghost and was, again, relieved to see the room remained empty. 

My legs grew weak as I was hit with the same dizzy feeling from earlier. I laid back in bed, curling up on my side and pulling my blankets around me as I tried to block out the visions swimming in my head. What it had felt like to strangle the breath from her, to feel her small body struggling against me as her lungs undoubtedly burned with unbearable fire, and the horrible, shattering feeling of her body finally going still and limp- lifeless. I’d killed her, I hadn’t wanted to, I wanted to take it back, I would give anything-

I was pulled, quite literally, from my thoughts as I felt that invisible tug again. This time it was so strong it pulled me from my bed and I ended up on the floor in a crumpled mess of blankets. My sleep deprived, drugged and drunk mind tried to rationalize this bizarre phenomenon as Molly demanding I stop avoiding her. I couldn’t hide from her forever, and with a heavy sense of dread in my stomach I dragged myself to my feet and stepped around the petition that blocked my bed from the rest of the room. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart coming to a skittering halt. Molly was there.

Except, I realized a heartbeat later, it wasn’t Molly. A girl was pushing herself up off the floor as if she had just fallen in the middle of my sitting room. Her long, straight black hair fell over her shoulder and blocked her face from my view. She had ivory skin that I could see quite clearly as she was only wearing a very short nightgown. It almost seemed opalescent, nearly shimmering in the soft moonlight that flooded the room. She had bandages wrapped heavily around both of her arms, and I thought briefly that they provided more skin coverage than her actual clothing. I stared at her for far too long, considering her state of undress, but I was too flabbergasted to really process what I was looking at. Her groan of pain snapped me out of it, and conscious thought returned to me at the exact moment our eyes met.

They were bright red and I could have sworn there was something moving in them, but I blinked and whatever it was was gone. Her eyes held my gaze for a moment before looking down at my body, then back at my face as a slight blush crawled across her cheeks. “Ah- Um, sorry.” She muttered as she averted her gaze. I was confused until I looked down and realized I was still wearing just my underwear. Heat flooded my face as I immediately side stepped back behind the partition. Dear universe, please allow me to disappear. Thank you. I thought to myself bitterly. I heard the girl clear her throat awkwardly from the center of my room and I rubbed my eyes. Perhaps I was dreaming. 

“Um, I’m sorry, I’m not really sure… What just happened.” She sounded like she was looking around my room, and I heard a drawer open. “Do you… Have any clothing I could borrow?” The sound of wood hitting wood reached my ears- she was definitely searching through my dressers. 

“Please stop looking through my things. There’s a robe hanging on a hook in the bathroom you can put on. If you would be so kind as to close the door and wait in there for a moment I will put some clothes on myself.” 

“Right, cool, okay.” There was a very soft, slow scraping of wood and the slightest noise of a drawer being closed, like she was trying to do so without me noticing. I waited for the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut before I poked my head out around the partition again. Seeing she was gone I quickly walked over to my dressers and pulled open all the drawers just to make sure she hadn’t taken anything, or worse: put something back where it didn’t belong. Satisfied that she had only looked and hadn’t actually touched anything, I quickly pulled on a pair of black pants and a comfortable, loosely fitted white shirt. I leaned against the dresser as a sudden wave of nausea came over me, but it passed after a few moments. If this was some kind of weird fever dream brought on by taking those drugs with alcohol, I was going to yell at Markos for not giving me a stricter warning.

Once I was sure I wasn’t going to vomit where I stood, I walked over to my bathroom. I knocked before turning the knob, and caught a glimpse of movement that made me think she was right next to the door. However, when I opened it fully she was sitting on the edge of the bath with her hands neatly clasped in her lap, looking a bit like a child caught sneaking food from the kitchens outside of mealtime. She gave me an innocent smile and I leveled her with a suspicious gaze. “Come out here and have a seat, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

—

She sat across from me on my couch in my fluffy white robe, which was much too big on her. She was of small stature, at least a foot shorter than me, and appeared to be in her early twenties. It was hard to tell what race she was as she had almost no aura about her. If it weren’t for her red eyes and somewhat iridescent skin, I would have assumed she was human.

Those red eyes were currently looking around the room in a show of unashamed curiosity. I had turned on the lamps in my room and I was certain something flickered in them occasionally, but I couldn’t tell if it was real or just a trick of the light. I still hadn’t ruled out this being some bizarre, drug-fueled hallucination. Her eyes glanced at me, and her expression looked… Concerned? I hadn’t said anything out loud but the timing of it made me think that she was reading my mind. 

“Kind of.” She said, and I jumped. Was she responding to my thoughts? “Well, I try not to pry into the minds of others but… My god your thoughts are loud.” She groaned a bit, her stiff body posture dissolving as she slumped back against the couch. She rubbed her forehead as if she were getting a headache. “You’re kind of just screaming things out into the void, and unfortunately that’s me so…” I stared at her in a moment of abject horror. What could she hear? Could she see my whole mind or just my active thoughts? How could I stop her- “Just imagine your energy manifesting into a shield around your mind. You can do that, right? Manifest your energy?”

Honestly I was slightly insulted that she implied I couldn’t manifest it and I scowled a bit as I constructed a mental barrier. Or at least what I hoped was a mental barrier. The corners of her mouth turned up and she looked down at her lap, like she was trying to hide her smile. “ Do you find this situation amusing?” I asked, still slightly irritated at her earlier implication. 

She looked up at me, giving me a wide, sheepish grin that momentarily caught me off guard. “No, no, sorry!” She said quickly. “It’s just- I didn’t mean to insult you.” She explained and my cheeks heated. 

“I was not insulted.” I lied, and she bit her lip like she was holding back further commentary. At least she was smart. That light flickered in her eyes again, like fire dancing in the center of a ruby, and I was certain I wasn’t imagining it. She cleared her throat and I realized that I was staring. I shifted my gaze away from her for a moment and when I looked back at her she was examining the room once more.

“Why do you have so many things?” She asked me candidly not a moment later. I rubbed my hand over my face, exhaustion weighing heavy on me. “I like to collect things.” I answered in a cool, composed voice. I would not let her see how stressed I was. “What’s your favorite one?” She asked as she cocked her head to the side. I paused and looked at her with my hand still covering half of my face. Were these really the first things she thought to ask me? From what I could tell she had just fallen into existence from my ceiling into a room with a nearly naked man- another wave of gut wrenching embarrassment washed through me as that thought snaked through my mind- and the only questions she thought to ask were centered around my trinket collection?

“How about I ask the questions?” I said with a sedate smile and she seemed to take a moment to consider it, as if she might have the thought to disagree. Perhaps I’d been wrong about her level of intelligence earlier.

“Alright.” She agreed, giving her a reprieve from me lowering my opinion of her intelligence. “But I want to ask some questions too.” She spoke lightly and with confidence, her back straightening and her chin held high. Her posture was excellent and she held herself in a neatly arranged manner that made me think she might be nobility.

I took a deep breath, keeping that thought in mind as I tried to focus on my decorum. It would be troublesome if I accidentally caused a conflict between us and another ruling family. I’d caused my brother enough trouble; I didn’t need to add more to his plate. “Of course,” I replied with a level tone. “I’d like to start by asking your name.”

She hesitated and her face scrunched up minutely, as if she were trying to decide between two unpleasant choices. “Don’t lie to me, I’ve been very accommodating of this situation so far but if I feel like you’re deceiving me, I have friends who will not be nearly as nice about asking as I am.”

This earned me a rather heated glare, and her childish expression sharpened to a point. “Don’t threaten me.” Her tone had shifted and I felt the faintest of chills run down my spine. “I won’t lie to you if you won’t lie to me.” There was something about the way she said it that made me think she would be able to tell if I was and I took a moment to reinforce my mental barrier. 

“Alright.” I agreed, mimicking her earlier statement. Whether or not I’d hold up to that would remain to be seen, but she seemed appeased as her expression relaxed again.

“I was just trying to think of how to convince you not to send me back when you find out who I am.” She lamented, and I tried to keep the confusion off of my face.

“Well, I can’t promise I won’t. If harboring you from someone will put my family in danger then I will do what needs to be done.” She nodded and let out a soft breath, seeming to accept my reasoning. Silence stretched between us for a moment before she looked up at me and introduced herself.

“My name is Calypso Infierno-Lux.” She spoke with an edge of distaste that I found hard to place. Did she not like her name? Or did she expect me to recognize it and have that suddenly change my opinion about her? Whatever she was expecting from me, she seemed to relax when I had no immediate reaction. “You’re not going to send me back?” She asked hopefully.

“Well, I apologize but I do not recognize your name, nor that of your family. Where do you hail from?” I continued with purposeful gentleness. I hoped to coax out more information from her before I decided how to proceed with this situation, and she seemed to respond well to kindness. 

I was caught off guard as she shot a stern look at me, and I had to actively stop myself from flinching back. “It’s a bit rude to not introduce yourself after you learn a lady’s name, is it not?” I swallowed thickly despite myself, and I gave her an apologetic smile.

“Apologies, my name is Achaicus Klein.” I let my smile become a bit sharper, trying to convey the confidence my brother had. “Welcome to my room. Now that my hospitality duties have been properly seen to, please answer my question.”

Chapter Text

‘Falling through space and ending up in a nearly naked, strange man’s room’ was not what I had on my bingo card for the night when I had retired to my room earlier in the evening. Yet here I was, wrapped in this stranger’s robe and sitting across from him as we both tried to navigate this bizarre situation. 

Achaicus Klein was a man of beauty and despair. His visual appearance was remarkably stunning, even if it did set me on edge with how similar he looked to Salmar. He was tall, with striking, angular features that looked rather severe, and his muscular body was tense with unease. He was doing his best to look haughty and aloof, bristling with the confidence of royalty by birthright. He was doing a pretty good job of it, too, despite the horrific circles under his eyes and the slight, anxious jostle of his right knee. If I were a normal individual, I probably would have bought the act hook, line, and sinker. Unfortunately for him, my powers allowed me to see straight through it.

For every ounce of diplomatic put-togetherness he presented, the dark cloud of emotions that swirled around him stood in stark contrast. They told a tale of great loss and suffering that made me wonder what hurts this man had suffered in his life. A deep, dark cloud of self-loathing and grief clung to him like a poisonous miasma– perhaps the most intense, concentrated emotion I had ever encountered. I wondered why he was so easy to read when everyone around me only showed little wisps of their more intense feelings. Did he just suffer more than everyone else I’ve encountered in the castle, or was there something else going on? I resisted the urge to worry my bottom lip, putting a significant amount of effort into looking more relaxed than I actually felt. I had a feeling we were more alike than not, but I seemed to be luckier than he in that I wasn’t sitting across from a telepath.

His attitude had changed since I’d mentioned my worry about him sending me back where I came from, even if he didn’t recognize my name. He was more defensive, calculating. His aura had shifted and dulled as he reinforced his mental barrier. He showed remarkable control over his power, and his ability to become proficient in a previously unknown technique so quickly was a little intimidating. My instincts told me to proceed with caution: wherever I was he wasn’t human, and I wasn’t under the Dome anymore. I sat up a little bit straighter and cleared my throat.

“I come from the lands near Heofon,” I said with perfect confidence. My father had told me that if you were going to lie you should put as much truth into it as possible. Putting myself near the base of the Dome would at least allow me to accurately name local landmarks. I was expecting recognition and anger, and I received the former but not the latter as he cocked his head. A ribbon of curiosity wove through the dark cloud around him, although his outward appearance didn’t change much.

“Heofon? I’m unfamiliar with the name. What human country are you located in?” He asked calmly. Despite my best effort,s his question caught me off guard. 

“Human country?” I asked with genuine surprise, my eyes widening a bit. 

His attention focused to a point on that reaction and he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he pressed the tips of his fingers together. “Yes, I assume you come from somewhere in Europe. If you are an enemy of my grandfather’s and you’ve come to seek harm against his family, I can assure you right now that you will not have a pleasant end.”

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled, and I could feel Ater’s presence stirring in the back of my mind. I took a deep breath and doubled down my efforts to contain him. The last thing I needed to do right now was let my control slip and have him do something stupid. 

“I don’t know who your grandfather is, or who you are, or where Europe is,” I said genuinely. I couldn’t help the sliver of annoyance that worked into my voice. I had told him not to threaten me; it made the other inhabitants of my body defensive. Achaicus was unaware of the extra work he was making me do, and his eyes narrowed slightly in response to my tone. “I don’t come from the human realm,” I explained a little more calmly.

This caught him off guard, and a look of surprise crossed his features, matching the brightness that flashed around him before he quickly regained control of himself. Once again, his emotions dulled, becoming harder for me to read as he reinforced his mental barrier a third time. He was getting annoyingly good at it, and I kicked myself for telling him how to take away such a valuable tool for me. His train of thought had been overwhelming, but not being able to read him at all felt very scary- and he was getting dangerously close to cutting me off completely.

“I wasn’t aware that other realms still existed.” He said casually as he sat back in his chair. He regarded me with a sharp intelligence that once again made me think of Salmar, and I had to actively stop myself from glaring at him. 

“I’m not sure how you avoided the Separation, since you’re obviously not human– but maybe your energy is similar enough to theirs that you were able to avoid it.” This seemed to offend him as he stared at me with an incredulous expression.

“Fae energy is nothing like humans.” He asserted, snorting a disgusted laugh as if I had made a joke in poor taste. “I also have never heard of this ‘Separation.’ Elaborate.

I looked at the pale blue energy that swirled lazily around him, so faint it was almost unnoticeable. “Your energy is blue, human spirit energy is blue. I think it’s pretty similar.” I pushed back. Their similarity was the only thing I could think of that this non-human entity, a ‘fae’ apparently, had slipped through the net during the Separation. So much so that they apparently didn’t even know it had occurred. “The Separation was when the realms split into three: human, non-human, and spiritual.” I didn’t want to mention the word ‘demon,’ in case he held similar prejudices against them. Non-humans felt safer.

“I thought you agreed not to lie to me.” He said flatly, and it was clear he was becoming annoyed with me. My expression crumpled into a scowl at his accusation.

“I’m not lying!” I said with more exasperation than I should have and his energy kicked up in response. Its color deepened as its expression became a more physical manifestation. 

“Human energy is white and virtually non-existent,” he said with a sharp edge to his voice, “and the realms started separately and collapsed into each other. I told you if you were going to be resistant or dishonest with my questioning I was going to go fetch someone who wouldn’t be nearly as nice as I am in his extraction methods.” He stood in a smooth motion and my heart began to beat quickly as I struggled not to panic. He moved around the couch I sat on and I sprang up, darting in front of him to try and stop him from reaching the door. He flinched back away from me as my sudden appearance in front of him surprised him. He looked at where I had been a moment before and back to where I now stood. “What-”

“Please! I’m not lying!” I insisted with as much earnest emotion as I could muster without looking hysterical. This man was quick and intelligent, but he had been kind enough to give me the benefit of explaining myself. I wasn’t sure if I would have the ability to do the same with another person, especially when he implied they would use less-than-pleasant methods to obtain the information. “Where I come from, humans can manifest power on similar levels to non-human races! I mean… Not all of them, but it’s not all that uncommon.” Many of the royal guards were half-human human and I had heard many stories of strong individuals in the human townships that existed in our territory. 

He paused and narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. “What are you?” He asked bluntly. “You look like a ghoul, but you have a nearly non-existent energy signature and you claim you come from some other realm. Answer my question honestly: if I think you are lying, then I will drag you to the dungeons myself and someone else can deal with you.”

I bristled with anger, hating the feeling of being backed into a corner, but kept it off of my face. I didn’t want to make a scene and ruin my chances to gain unfettered access to the human realm, so I did my best to make myself look small and unthreatening. I bowed my head and wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m an angel,” I said softly, the word bitter in my mouth. 

He hesitated then, looking me up and down as if seeing me for the first time. “A valkyrie?” He asked for clarification and my brows knitted in confusion. 

“No, we don’t go by that,” I replied honestly. He continued to examine me with intense scrutiny. 

“Is this your base form?” He asked with mild caution. I wasn’t sure what he thought I was, but whatever it was, it had given him pause. “Or are you under the effects of an illusion?”

“I can’t create illusions,” I answered. Some of our kind could, like Touya. His control over water allowed him to coalesce it and manipulate it so that light reflected off of it in whatever way he liked. “This is… my base form, I guess. If you mean to ask if this is what I really look like.”

“You don’t have any wings.” He said as if that was explanation enough for his question, which was a fair point. I had to work very hard not to smile at the absurdly obvious train of thought that had led to this confusion and my complete oversight to it.

I raised my hands to show I wasn’t going to do anything malicious as I took a few steps back. “I do, actually,” I said as I began to untie his robe. “They’re just… ‘tucked away.’” It was hard to explain to a non-angel. I opened the garment and let it slide off my shoulders, but kept it gathered at my elbows. The back of my night gown was open for a reason, and with a flex of my shoulder blades a pair of black wings unfolded from the bare skin between them. I had to be careful not to hit any of the little trinkets he had around his room, and I tucked them tightly against me as I looked at him. “Ta-da!” I said with lackluster enthusiasm that did not seem to impress him. 

His eyes moved over my wings as if he were trying to judge them against something else. He didn’t move any closer to me and I tilted my head to the side. “They’re real,” I assured him as I took a step forward. He tensed but didn’t retreat from me. 

“They’re black.” He said, once again sounding like he was pointing out something obvious. I sighed, a bit resigned to my fate at this point. 

“Yes, our wing color typically matches our hair color,” I explained. “Pure blooded angels typically have blonde hair and matching wings, but I’m not a pure angel.”

He was back to curious and he walked forward until he was standing in front of me. He seemed more relaxed, which made me more relaxed. It seemed we were out of the immediate danger of being dragged down to the dungeon.

“In fae genetics, our genes tend to override any provided by the human parent. Does that not stand true for angel genetics?” 

I was mildly surprised and very relieved when he assumed that I was half human. I shrugged my shoulders slightly, not knowing anything about fae and so I was unsure of how they compared to my kind. “Our genetics are similar enough that the contributing genes can affect our appearance. Hence, my black hair and wings.” I flared them slightly, pulling them forward slightly. “Do you believe me now?”

He conceded and motioned me back towards the couch. “For the time being, yes. Sit back down and don’t do whatever you did to get from there to here so quickly.”

I shuddered as the command crashed against my mental barrier, shattering it. I hadn’t been prepared for such a powerful onslaught, and my stomach twisted as I automatically resisted it. I stood there, pain racking through my body as I stared at him with disbelief. I had never seen such a blatant display of control magic in my whole life. Even Salmar used his in more subtle ways. Ater’s presence pushed to the front of my mind, his growl deep and skittering. 

Achaicus looked surprised at my resistance as he stared back at me. He must have seen the flicker of Ater’s power in my eyes because I could see him tracking the movement. “What is that? Stop resisting and answer me truthfully.” He laced more power into this command, and I felt the weight of it fall upon me like a sack of bricks.

I couldn’t divert any of my power to block the command. If I shifted any of it away from containing Ater he would be able to force his way past the sealing bandages on my right arm. I grit my teeth, glaring at Achaicus as I answered him. “Power,” I said flatly. “From a very powerful being that is sealed within my arm.” I made no effort to hide the disdain in my voice. “You’re making it very hard to hold him back, and I would really prefer not to have him attack you, so if you would kindly refrain from commanding me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

He took less than a moment to consider it, but I could see the decision being made before he spoke and my heart fell. “No. Go sit down and wait until I get back. If you do not comply, you will be considered an enemy and your threat will be neutralized.” His voice was cold and I yielded to his power begrudgingly.

 Ater continued to thrash against me, hissing angrily. You are a coward. His voice was deep and echoed with sounds of the abyss from whence he came. Release me and I will rend the flesh from his bones! His anger flooded me, making my hands twitch. 

‘ I will do no such thing. ’ I said forcefully as I heard Achaicus exit through the door behind me. I sighed as the immediate threat left and I didn’t have to hold myself back as much.

My power leaked from me like a flame, deep red at the base it faded to orange and then yellow as it evaporated off above my head. My hair shifted in the breeze it generated, and sweat glistened on my creased brow as I concentrated on pushing back the hulking wyrm’s presence. This is why you are weak. He snarled at me, his anger focused wholly on me now that his other target was gone. You lack the backbone it takes to do what needs to be done, to be strong!

‘ Blatantly killing people who are just defending themselves and their loved ones is not strength! ’ I hissed back at him as I managed to shove him farther into the recesses of my mind. ‘ It is cruel, and selfish, and I refuse to be like that! I refuse to be like him! ’ 

Ater snorted with dark laughter. You are pathetic. Your father would have-

‘My father gave you to me to protect me from those who moved against him. He could have used you to slaughter them and save himself, but he didn’t! So shut up and sit down! ’ It took all of my strength to wrestle him into submission, and when he finally relented, I slumped back against the couch. I had exhausted all of my energy, and Achaicus’s command was still in effect. I looked up at the ceiling, unsure of what I should do. 

A warmer, softer presence filled the empty corners of my mind as Atra came to comfort me. Let me break the command. Where Ater’s voice rippled with darkness, Atra’s chimed like sea glass hanging in the wind. It was gentle and beautiful and it relaxed my frayed nerves. Then we can try to find a way out of here.

 ‘ We have no idea where ‘here’ even is. ’ I thought with defeat. ‘ Even if I am capable of breaking out of this room, we’re probably in a big estate, or even a castle. There are probably tons of guards around, let alone any number of unknown magic defenses. ’ I sighed heavily and ran my hands through my hair before pressing my palms against my eyes. ‘ Plus, I have no idea if he can feel the command breaking, and I don’t want to be an enemy here. I’ll just… Have to endure whatever is to come. If I’m cooperative, hopefully it won’t be that bad.’

Looking back now, the level of naive wishful thinking I had in that moment was almost comical.

Chapter Text

Calypso POV

I sat by myself on Achaicus’s fancy, definitely older-than-me couch for some amount of time. Long enough that I had a good chance to take stock of my surroundings and realize the man didn’t own a clock. How in the world he kept track of time was beyond me, and I found myself getting antsy the longer I was left alone.

Time does a weird thing when you’re not able to measure it with an impartial device. It stretches and elongates. One second feels like five. Ten minutes turns into thirty. A short wait becomes an eternity. So when the door opened behind me with a flurry of sound and movement, my consciousness had been dulled by the boredom that came with being left with nothing to do but sit and twiddle your thumbs, and I might have overreacted a tiny bit.

I jumped with a start, my body moving on instinct more than anything else as I made a beeline across the room. “Stop.” I collided with the barrier blocking the glass double doors leading to the balcony before the command hit me, but when it did my body locked up like a statue. The power behind it was infinitely more than anything Achaicus had used against me, and true fear feathered in my chest for the first time since arriving.

The voice that had spoken was similar in pitch to Achaicus's, but the tone was different. It was sharper and held no kindness to it. “Turn around, walk back, and stand still in front of me until I tell you otherwise.” I did as I was commanded, any energy I might have used to resist it having been burned up earlier in my struggle with Ater. Luckily, he’d also tired himself out, and while I could feel his anger boiling in the back of my mind he had no strength to fight against his containment. 

I used the few moments it took for me to walk back across the room to observe the people Achaicus had brought back with him. I was surprised to see a man who looked identical to him, save for his shorter hair and icier gaze– and several dark bruises that peppered his elegant neck. His shirt was also ruffled and he’d missed a button. It seemed my host had interrupted his twin brother’s intimate moment. Despite his icy glare, he had absolutely no trace of emotions or thoughts that I could pick up from him. His mental barrier was rock solid, and even when I reached out to test it, I felt nothing but ice-cold steel. It seemed that Achaicus had warned him of my ability and had coached him on the application of defense against it. 

Beside him stood a shorter but equally attractive man. His hair was dark, nearly black and fell in soft waves that framed his face in a slightly messy way. His right eye was strange: the whites were stained with dark energy. Both of his irises were a beautiful, bright blue that would draw you in if you weren’t careful. I was immediately on alert as I felt the familiar brushes of an emotion-manipulating power brush against me. Strangely, it didn’t affect me, even without my mental shields up. He had some interesting marks on his neck as well, two crescent moons on the side, alongside a plethora of dark bruising that matched the man beside him. It wasn’t a hard leap of logic to assume that the two were lovers. 

“Eric, go back to my room.” The short-haired twin said with a calmness that somehow seemed threatening. 

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the door frame. “That’s not going to happen.”

His lover closed his eyes briefly as he wrangled in his obvious annoyance. Even with his shield it leaked out in gentle trickles like steam. I came to a stop in front of him, but remained silent as I looked between the three of them.

Achaicus, who had had all the presence of a man in charge before he’d left, had wilted in the time away from me. He stood back and to the side, his body held ever so slightly curled inward. He looked nervous, maybe guilty. It was hard to tell because he, too, had perfected his mental shield. 

The only one who showed any hint of emotion was the dark one, Eric. He stood in stark contrast to the lightness of the twins, and I found myself drawn to look at him. We stared at each other for a few moments, and Ater’s growl was like a low purr through my mind. That one is connected to death. His voice chittered and echoed with amusement. I don’t know what he is, but I know that power. I can see the lines just beneath his skin. Eric’s coy, bratty expression had hardened into a mask of scrutiny, but caution and suspicion flickered around him. His emotions towards me, in particular, seemed to be more intense and personal than the twins’– though I had never seen him before in my life. 

Short-haired Achaicus, as I lacked a name to call him, looked me over with detached scrutiny. He stepped around me, looking for signs of discrepancies or evidence that he could use against me. He spent a significant amount of time examining my wings, and I drew them closer to myself. I felt a bit violated by his gaze, but I knew better than to make a fuss now— at least that was until he started speaking.

“You said she was a half-breed?” He asked his brother, talking to him as if I wasn’t standing right in front of him. I blinked a bit, caught off guard both by the rudeness of him not addressing me directly and also at the fact that he called me a half-breed.

“She said she was a half-angel,” Achaicus confirmed, looking at me as if trying to judge that fact himself. Once again, there was a tension in the room– only this time it was shared between three people and not just my host. I felt like I was missing a key piece of information here. They were all comparing me to something, I just had no idea what it was.

“She’s missing the extra wings and eyes, but that might be the result of the cross.” Eric piped up with an air of detachment despite the fact that he hadn’t taken his eyes off me since I’d stopped in front of them. “She has sealing bandages on both of her arms as well.” 

I stared at him with an accusing look, my arms immediately crossing in front of me as I tried to hide them away. The robe was still hung loosely at the elbows as I couldn’t pull it up with my wings out. The man beside me grabbed for my arm and I involuntarily flinched away from him, glaring at him. The audacity. “Excuse me, you can at least ask before you try and man manhandle me,” I said angrily. I had never been in this position before, not with someone I wasn’t familiar with. I swallowed thickly as he reached out and snatched my wrist anyway.

“You have teleported into the middle of the room of an incredibly high-ranking fae, who also happens to be my brother, spouting off incoherent nonsense about being from another realm, and then threatened to attack him with a ‘powerful being sealed inside of you.’ You are not in a position to make any demands and if you give me any trouble I have absolutely no qualms with having you carted off to the dungeons.” His voice was calm and level as he spoke, but it held behind it a cold fury. If Achaicus had been hesitant to help me for fear of harm befalling his family, it was nothing compared to his brother. This man was a hair trigger away from locking me up at the mere hint that I might be a threat. 

I yielded to him, allowing him to pull my arm out and push up the sleeve of the robe. His eyes swept over the bandages and the small runes that had been written on them. He shifted and held it out for Eric to examine and his lover slunk forward with the deadly grace of a panther. 

He leaned forward slightly when he reached us, rubbing his chin with his normal hand in contemplation as he examined my bandages. His left arm was normal, though there were faint traces of scarred runes from a previous spell I hadn’t noticed until he got closer to me. His right arm was encased in some kind of hardened energy and was tipped with lethal-looking claws. That was a manifestation weapon if ever I’d seen one, though it was weird that he had it out and ready. Perhaps he was a guard to the short-haired one on top of being his lover.

“They are strange, I’ve never seen runes like this before but they are similar enough that I can tell they’re definitely binding something.” He confirmed with a distrustful glance at me. I glared back at him, not sure what his problem was. You’d think I’d killed the man’s family or something with the way he kept looking at me as if he expected me to lash out at any moment.

“I would have told you that if you’d asked me!” I said with annoyance as I jerked my hand free from the cold touch of the fae beside me. His expression darkened and I immediately regretted my actions. I’d inherited many things from my father, and unfortunately, his short temper and smart mouth were at the forefront. It had gotten me in trouble plenty of times before– I was nothing if not consistent.

“Come.” He said without a single moment of hesitation. “And be quiet. It’s the middle of the night, and I don’t need you to wake up half the castle.”

———

I was led through hallways made of dark stone that glistened with the silver moonlight spilling in through grandiose windows. The halls themselves were remarkably empty, although we did pass an occasional guard post. It was strange to see such a marked lack of military presence amongst the halls; Salmar kept so many soldiers in the castle one could hardly walk two feet without running into one. 

We walked in silence. Achaicus and his brother walked side by side in front of me, my host just slightly behind his twin. It seemed more an unconscious positioning than an intentional show of difference. I wondered if he was even aware of his mannerisms around his brother and what had happened between them to make him like that. Despite this subtle submission, their interactions with each other were easy and familiar. My heart throbbed as I was reminded of Aetos, and I struggled to keep my expression neutral. 

Eric walked beside me, his expression one of bored indifference as he strolled with his hands clasped behind his back. He would occasionally steal a glance at me, but I did my best to ignore him as I stared straight ahead. I distracted myself by trying to burn a hole in the back of the short-haired twin’s shirt, but unfortunately my powers did not include laser vision.

Eventually we started descending stairs, and we continued to descend for quite some time. Finally the stairs ended in a long, ominous-looking hallway lined with unassuming doors. Regardless of how mundane the hall looked, the atmosphere here was oppressive. There were magic nullifying runes here, I could feel it. 

Our pace didn’t slow until we were about halfway down the hall, and the short-haired man stopped in front of an unmarked door. He opened it and stood aside, giving me a stoic look. “Go inside.” He commanded flatly. My body moved on its own and my stomach twisted. I hated the feeling of being compelled to do something against my will. Would it kill the guy to just ask?

I walked myself into a barely furnished cell. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all made of thick stone, and there were no windows. There was an old cot with a faded blanket on it and a toilet in the corner. I stared at the room for a moment before whirling around. The door was already shut by the time I reached it. I growled under my breath but stopped when I realized I could hear them talking through the door. I pressed my ear against it, holding my breath as I listened.

“-think this is too much, Nathaniel?” Achaicus asked whom I assumed was his brother. 

“I gave her a chance, she gave me an attitude, so now she gets to face the consequences of her choices.” Nathaniel snipped back defensively, obviously irritated. 

“We don’t know what she is, and worse, we don’t know what’s locked up inside of her body. What if it’s some kind of hellspawn? And she has seals on both of her arms, which indicates she has more than one. If not for the rest of us, think about Hadrien. If we don’t take necessary precautions, it could put him at risk.” Eric’s voice was surprisingly gentle, making him come across as reasonable in his assertions. “She managed to infiltrate all of our defenses and teleported directly into your room, and we have no idea what her motives are…” Their voices faded as they walked away, and I cursed my own stupidity for not holding my tongue. I walked over to the cot and sat down, trying to figure out my next move. 

Just rip the seal and I can make all of your problems disappear. Ater’s voice curled around the inside of my brain like honeyed opium. I ignored it as I stared at the dark room in front of me. There was only a little light that filtered in through the cracks of the door, but it was enough for me to see vague outlines once my eyes adjusted. Once again, I would have to sit and wait for someone else to come and ask me things with no way to tell time. I flexed my shoulders and my wings retracted back into place, allowing me to pull the robe back up over my shoulders. 

It was cold down here, but that wasn’t too much of a problem. Heat radiated from deep inside of me and the warmth was captured by the plush robe. I laid down on the cot, not caring that it felt like a rough sack of potatoes. I was tired, and alone, and strangely somewhere worse than I had been before I’d come here. At least there I had a nice bed to sleep on. And Touya and Timothy to keep me company. I curled in on myself as I thought of them, wondering if they had discovered I was missing yet. I laid there thinking of them as I stared into the darkness, waiting for them to decide what to do with me.

———

The door to my cell opened much sooner than I had anticipated. I had closed my eyes shortly after being left alone because looking at the darkness was making me dizzy, and I had been awake then for quite some time. Before this mess I had just been lying down to sleep when I’d felt that final, insistent tug that had convinced me to follow it here. I should have ignored it. That desperate, heartbroken cry for help was obviously a trap laid out by the universe to cause me more misery. I never thought I’d miss being locked up in the castle, but it beat being locked up in this dingy cell any day. The enemy you know, and all that.

I didn’t move when the door opened this time, although I did open my eyes to see who had come to visit. Soft blue light flooded the chambers as Eric stepped into the room, followed by the short-haired twin whose name I’d assumed was Nathaniel based on the conversation I’d overheard. The dark-haired man didn’t look at me as he began scribbling things along the doorway, starting even before the fae had closed the door. Nathaniel considered me with guarded caution and I stared back at him from where I laid down on the cot, Achaicus’s robes still clung around me. 

“You won’t cause any problems.” He said to me as a statement. It was a command but lacked the magic behind it to compel me, and I recognized it as him giving me a chance to behave. 

‘I don’t see how not wanting a strange man to touch me without my consent was me causing problems.' Was what I wanted to say, but I wasn’t stupid enough to poke the big, scary bear so instead I agreed with a simple “yes.” 

There was silence between us for a few minutes as Eric wrote his little scribble on the stone. He worked quickly and with the surety of someone who was very talented at what they were doing. “What are you writing?” I asked finally, still not bothering to move or sit up but my curiosity and boredom got the better of me.

“A warding spell that will prevent you from using your powers.” He answered casually, and Nathaniel shot him a look of warning. 

“Don’t answer her questions.” He commanded with force, but again he used no magic to back it up and I caught the eye roll and smirk that appeared briefly on Eric’s face. 

“There’s no harm in it~.” He said with confidence. “She won’t be able to break this spell regardless of whether she knows what it is or not.”

Nathaniel looked like he wanted to argue more, but not in front of me. He crossed his arms across his chest and leveled an angry glare at me– as if my presence there was the source of his annoyance and not his lover's snarky replies.

“You mean I could have just magic-blasted my way out of here this whole time?” I asked with stoic sarcasm. “That was a joke, just so you know,” I added on while looking at Nathaniel just to be safe. 

He did not look amused but Eric snorted a quiet laugh as he started down the third side of the wall. He was working so fast, it was very impressive. I sat up and Nathaniel’s body tensed almost imperceptively– if the light in the room hadn’t been emanating from him I would have missed it. “I’m a 25-year-old girl; this all feels a bit overkill,” I said with some exasperation, trying to play up my youth. His twin had seemed to react well to the idea of me being young, and I had hoped his brother would react similarly. His stoic, icy glare told me he did not, in fact, care.

“Is the thing sealed in your arms a 25-year-old girl?” He asked flatly and I sighed, leaning back against the wall. 

“No,” I answered begrudgingly. 

Nathaniel gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Then no, I don’t think it’s ‘overkill.’ Until I have determined that you, and whatever you have bound to you, are not a threat, you will be treated like one.” 

“All done,” Eric said as he stepped aside. I watched as Nathaniel raised his hand to touch them and flinched as an overwhelming pulse of energy was released. The runes filled with his bright blue magic as they activated, fading a moment later.

The results were immediate and suffocating. My power was not drained or lessened in any way, but I couldn’t manifest it outside of my body. 

“I don’t know exactly what you are or what kind of power you have, so I made it a blanket spell. You’ll find that you won’t be able to affect anything in this room, and I suggest that you don't try to break it,” Eric explained, much to the chagrin of Nathaniel. He grabbed his lover’s elbow and opened the door, immediately pushing him out of the room.

 “You’ll be visited by someone else soon. I suggest you go along with what they tell you to do, or it won’t be pleasant for you.” The icy twin gave me the final warning before he left himself. The door closed with a soft click and the scrape of metal on metal as the lock slid into place. I was left alone in the darkness once again, with nothing to do but wait.

I fell back onto the cot with a heavy sigh and resigned myself to my fate.

Chapter Text

Achaicus POV

I paced back and forth behind the long, wooden table that sat in the middle of Dunkel’s strategy room. I’d been forbidden by my brother to leave, despite my insistence that I come with him and his Pet to set the sealing runes on the prisoner’s cell. It felt wrong to call her that– she had certainly raised some concerns, and the circumstances of her arrival were definitely suspicious, but I hadn’t sensed any malice from her until I’d commanded her. Even then, it was the presence behind her eyes and the revelation that it was some malicious being that sought to attack me that had concerned me enough to bring my brother into the equation.

I hadn’t anticipated that he would be in the middle of… acts of affection with his Vanir Pet, or that the girl would have no sense of self-preservation in the face of Nathaniel’s ire. 

I had thought he would put her into a sealed guest room until a decision could be officially made about her, but he had actually followed through with his threat to put her in the dungeons. Luckily, he had put her in a holding cell instead of the darker, drearier ones reserved for confirmed enemies of the state further beneath the castle, but it made me uneasy regardless.

I looked up as the door to the room opened, my brother walking in with a sour expression on his face, followed by his Vanir, who appeared quite amused. It seemed that Eric had antagonized Nathaniel in one way or another, as his Pet was prone to do, and it had only made his mood worse. I stopped my pacing and approached them, my hands clutched together in front of my stomach in an effort not to fidget. 

“The seal is in place, she’s securely contained for the time being.” My twin anticipated my question before I could even open my mouth to voice it. He grabbed his coat from the back of a chair and slung it over his shoulders as he turned to leave. Eric’s eyes were glued to him, and I didn’t quite like the implication of the look he was giving- like he wanted to eat my brother whole. I shifted a little uncomfortably as Nathaniel grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper some unashamedly filthy thing into his ear, judging by the way the Vanir’s lips curled into a wicked grin. They began to move towards the exit, and I took a few steps forward. 

“You’re returning to bed?” I asked, letting my disapproval into my voice. Nathaniel stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, his expression unbothered.

“Yes. And so should you. We’ll reconvene here once the sun has fully cleared the horizon.” His voice was calm and patient, as it often was when dealing with me lately– like he thought I was incapable of dealing with unfavorable news or feedback that was a little too harsh.

I frowned, my brows furrowing. “You’re going to leave her in that cell all night?” 

Nathaniel sighed and turned to face me properly, Eric wrapped around his arm like an accessory. “Yes, and that should not make you feel bad, Achaicus. You were correct in identifying her as a threat, and that threat’s been contained. Now, unless you want to wake up Markos and explain to him and his wife why you feel the need to unnecessarily bother them at this ungodly hour, then we are going to wait until morning.”

I must not have looked convinced, for he shook his arm free from Eric and walked up to me, ignoring his Pet’s sound of displeasure. He placed his hand reassuringly on my shoulder, giving me a knowing smile. “You made the right choice. The only thing I would say is next time, come to me sooner. I told you, I’m not letting anyone take anything from me again. That includes you.” There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, and I looked down, unable to bring myself to argue with him after everything that had happened. “ Get some sleep, Achaicus.” He urged me as he squeezed my shoulder. “Everything will look better in the light of day.” He released me and walked back to Eric, who slipped back onto his arm as if being apart from him had been suffocating.

I watched them leave with a heavy pit in my stomach. Seeing them together made me happy– my brother deserved to have that kind of love in his life after all the suffering he’d endured. I counted it as some miracle that he still had Eric. By all accounts, he had done everything wrong when he raised his Pet, had broken every rule in the book without a single care to the consequences. He had been bold, and brazen, and it had paid off for him.

I had tried my best to do everything right by Molly. I had doted on her with affection, I had given her everything she had asked for, and I would have given her the world over yet. I had often asked why I had been left alone to suffer while everyone else around me got their happy endings, but it was just a desperate attempt to ignore the truth that festered in the depths of my soul. I wasn’t worthy of love, of loyalty. I was a failure, a burden upon those around me I cared most about. If I had been better, if I had risen to my role as expected, Molly never would have left–

My stomach lurched as I was pulled towards the floor, but the tension snapped and disappeared before I was forced off balance. I put my hand on the back of a nearby chair to steady myself, my head spinning a bit as my senses came back to me. I stared down at the floor between my feet in disbelief, a slowly mounting sense of dread making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

No… It couldn’t be.

I pushed the thoughts that began dragging themselves to the front of my mind deep, deep down– like I did when I tried not to think about Molly, or my father, or my inability to do anything worthwhile. I sucked in a sharp breath and moved quickly out of the room as I refused to acknowledge what had just happened, heading to my quarters where I had at least six bottles of wine squirreled away for just such an occasion. Perhaps I’d even take a couple more of those pills Markos had given me. Nathaniel was right, I needed sleep. That’s all this was, and after a few hours of rest I’d feel better.

———

Light from the morning sun spilled into my room a few hours later, and I watched it crawl across the ceiling as I lay in my bed. Sleep had evaded me, even after half a bottle of wine and two more sleeping pills. My eyes throbbed with pain, so dry it hurt to blink them, and I sported a matching headache as a result. I sat up slowly as the time for our meeting neared, dread sitting heavy in my stomach. I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling I’d gotten after being tugged again as I’d stood alone in the meeting room, and it had haunted me all night. At least I hadn’t seen any visions of Molly, freshly killed or rotting alike. I thanked the stars for small blessings.

I got dressed in a simple, crisp, white, long-sleeved shirt, black pants, and a red coat— not bothering to call upon the servants this morning as I got ready for the meeting. I brushed my hair thoroughly before tying it up into a high ponytail. It was a frustrating task to complete on my own, given its length, but the difficulty it presented felt deserved- a kind of penance to lessen the guilt coiling in my stomach. A splash of cold water on my face helped pull me from my obsessive need to enact expiations, and I braved a look in the mirror. The bags under my eyes were even more prominent than they had been the night before, and I wondered how much longer I could go on like this.

I pushed aside my worries about my health and mental sanity as I made my way towards the meeting room. Unfortunately, as soon as I stepped out of my room I ran into Markos on his way to the same destination. He gave me a placating smile, but I had caused enough irritating situations for him to recognize the insincerity of it. It was the look in his eyes, like he wished he could stab me with the closest pointy object that gave it away. I returned the expression, minus the intent to harm. “Heading to the meeting?” He asked by way of greeting, and I nodded. We began walking together, silence that wasn’t entirely comfortable settling between us for most of the journey.

“Those bags under your eyes are atrocious." He said casually as we rounded the last corner and entered the hallway of our destination. I gave him a sidelong glare, the corners of my mouth pulling downwards into a severe frown.

“I took four of those pills last night,” I snapped angrily, his resulting smirk only fueling my irritation, “and they did absolutely nothing.”

“Well that’s mildly surprising,” he said as he tilted his head to the side in casual contemplation. “The fact that they didn’t work, not the fact that you took more than I told you to. And let me guess, you took them with alcohol as well?” I bristled quietly beside him, unable to refute his annoyingly accurate assumption. “I take your silence to mean I’m correct?”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm. “Yes,” I answered, though I failed to completely eliminate the edge to my voice.

 “It’s a good thing I know you so well.” He spoke with the smug superiority he got whenever he was right about something, and my eyes narrowed. He had the look that he had more information than he was letting on, and when he did not seem inclined to speak further, I felt a muscle twitch in my jaw with irritation. I didn’t have the patience for mind games right now.

“I think we had this conversation before about not being mind readers,” I said before I had really processed the words I was saying. Once I realized, I was struck a bit by the coincidence, given the ability of the girl currently sitting in the dungeons. Markos responded before I could think too much on it, however.

His expression sported a brilliant smile that brought out his natural fae beauty. The curls framing his face bounced slightly with the energy of his steps, and the morning light highlighted the lilac in his eyes. He seemed giddy with excitement, which did not bode well for me. “The ‘pills’ were just some human candy called Tic-Tacs.” The amusement in his voice was unmistakable. Nothing pleased Markos more than successfully defeating someone in an imaginary chess match, even if the other person didn’t know they were playing.

I turned and looked at him more earnestly this time. “They were what?” I had never heard of these ‘tic-tacs’ before. He pulled out a little rectangular container with the same white pills he’d given me. Only on this container there was a label with bright lettering spelling out ‘TIC-TACS’ with slightly smaller writing underneath labeling them as breath mints. “Claire gave them to me because she gets a variety pack and doesn’t like this flavor. They look remarkably like pills, so I held onto them for just such an occasion.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, my energy igniting around me as anger flooded my veins. I was already on edge from the events of the night before, and too sleep deprived to have any semblance of humor about this situation. He stopped and casually turned towards me, his hands stuffed into his pockets and dark laughter dancing in his lilac eyes. His expression was cool and collected with the faintest hints of a smile on his lips. 

“You’re going to attack me in the halls over giving you some candy, Achaicus?” He asked casually as he shifted his stance slightly. His curly hair blew softly in the wind kicked up from my flare of energy, though he didn’t bother activating his own. Sometimes I couldn’t stand how cocky he was.

“You lied to me,” I growled with frustration more than actual anger. Of course, Markos lied to me; he did it as easily as breathing. Sometimes I wondered if anything he said was a full truth, or if he spoke only in chimeric mergings of fact and fiction.

He shrugged his shoulders as if I had told him something wholly unimportant. “It was a placebo, a very common and perfectly reasonable test to eliminate various mental influences from a patient’s diagnostics.” He explained as if he were pointing out something obvious to a child. “You should be thanking me for ruling out that it’s all in your head, and for saving your life. If it had been real medication, you would have overdosed.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but a door further down the hall opened and Nathaniel stepped out. “If the two of you are done playing with each other, I’d like to get the meeting started. We have important things to discuss.” He said with mild irritation before stepping back into the meeting room. Markos looked uncharacteristically surprised, glancing back at me with growing suspicion. 

“What happened?” He asked more seriously, the playfulness gone from his expression. “Nathaniel is never at meetings on time. Are we under attack again? Did someone die? Did that annoying brat disappear again?”

My energy sputtered out as my anger left me in a heavy woosh. I flicked my hair over my shoulder as I walked past him, trying to regain a bit of my composure. “Someone got past our defenses last night,” I said bluntly, still unsettled by his ability to so thoroughly deceive me. I was honestly more embarrassed than anything, and my wounded pride would take some time to recover. “She’s currently locked up in the dungeons, and we’re trying to figure out what to do with her.”

I entered the room just in front of him and let the door close on him. It might have been slightly childish, and it was definitely rude, but it did make me feel better. Nathaniel arched a brow in silent question at my self-indulgent smirk, and my expression faltered slightly. “Apologies, our cousin is being particularly vexing this morning.” 

“You wound me, Achaicus,” Markos said with mock offense as he stepped in behind me. Nathaniel shook his head, but a small smile pulled the corners of his mouth upwards at our antics.

“Your petty bickering will have to wait, unfortunately. Take your seats, we have a lot to discuss.”

———

We sat gathered around the end of the ornate carved mahogany table in the chaotically decorated strategy room. Various maps and documents were pinned to boards that lined the walls, and a holographic topographical map hovered in the middle of the table between us. There were a multitude of tiny colored dots that showed various people of interest and energy signals from other species, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. Nathaniel sat at the head of the table, Eric sitting on the arm of his chair with a leg cast over his lap. He’d ignored me when I’d told him that was inappropriate behavior for a meeting like this, and Nathaniel had done nothing to reprimand his haughty Pet. I sat glowering at him to my brother’s right, and Markos sat on his left. He’d left an empty chair between him and the Vanir, though he chose to pretend that he didn’t notice the unprofessional display.

We had just gotten done discussing that last night's event seemed to be an isolated incident, as there was no evidence of a coordinated assault on the map. There were no unknown energy signatures, save for the small red dot that was located in the underbelly of the castle. It had been a relief to see she hadn’t somehow disappeared overnight, though Nathaniel had apparently ordered her to be checked on at regular intervals by the dungeon guardsmen just to be safe.

“Tell me more about the sensations you felt leading up to her appearance?” Markos asked, leaning slightly towards me. He was quite eager to hear anything and everything about the mysterious girl now that we had confirmed there was no active threat.

“It was akin to having a rope tied around my stomach that was then pulled sharply towards my room.” I did my best to accurately recall the sensation. “I was very dizzy afterwards.”

“I see,” he said, not bothering to write anything down- the cocky bastard thought himself too smart for notes. “Have you experienced them since she’s appeared?” 

I hesitated, glancing at my brother who was staring at me with an intensity that threatened to suffocate me. I looked down at the table, not enjoying the feeling that I was being interrogated. “Once… After the seals were placed- but the connection snapped earlier than it had before.”

Nathaniel’s brows furrowed with concern. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

My expression remained neutral, but my fingers were tapping against my leg under the table. “It was after you left. I… I should have said something. It didn’t seem to work, so I didn’t think…” I had truthfully been preoccupied by my growing horror at the idea that my grief and depressive thoughts were some kind of trigger, that I might have drawn her here. I didn’t voice that, though, and Nathaniel let out a soft sigh.

“Achaicus, you need to be more cautious… Do you know how lucky you are that she wasn’t an assassin sent to kill you?” He asked me, the attempt to hide his exasperation palpable. 

“Maybe she’s not an assassin, but a bomb,” Eric spoke up from his spot beside my brother. He was curled towards him, one of his hands twirling a slightly curled wisp of Nahtaniel’s hair around his finger while the other played with a button on his shirt. I was more than a little disturbed to realize he’d already undone one and was working on a second. So much so, I didn’t register his words when he continued. “The warding runes on those bandages are severely degraded from what looks like years of corrosive magic. If that thing in her arm really wanted to attack you, it’s pretty impressive that they’re still intact. They’re one strong energy pulse away from disintegrating entirely.”

“Perhaps we should cut off her arms?” Markos suggested as casually as if he were recommending what we should have for dinner.

 My senses came back to me sharply, and my head snapped to look at him. “We’re not-”

“That would be the safest course of action,” Eric agreed, shifting his leg off of Nathaniel’s lap to cross it casually over his other. “That way, if the seal fails, there will be no body for the spirit to possess. It would buy us some time while we figure out what they are and how to destroy them, if necessary.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It wasn’t surprising to hear it from Markos, though it was no less shocking. He was a callous man without any care or sympathy for people outside of his immediate family. To hear it from the bleeding-heart Vanir, who had blown up half of Dunkel when he’d discovered that we ate human meat, had caught me off guard.

“We are not cutting off her arms.” I insisted with absolutely zero hesitation, no tremble of doubt in my voice, although it was no longer my choice to make. That right belonged to my brother, and when I turned to look at him, I found his face stoic as he was deep in thought. My surety that he would reject their suggestion faltered.

“Brother, she’s a child -” I began, worried that he was genuinely considering the absurd course of action, but was silenced by a wave of his hand.

“She’s not a child,” Nathaniel stated with a confidence that made my own waver. “She’s 25, at least that’s what she told me in an attempt to lure me into letting my guard down. I know she looks young, but I don’t think that her species’ aging follows our own. I think she was trying to play up her youth to garner leniency from you.” He looked at me, his bright green eyes filled with a look of sympathetic understanding that made my skin crawl.

Had I been so easily deceived by her? I had felt confident that she was a teenager at best, and her bizarre curiosity and lack of fear matched the stupidity of youth. Once again, my weakness had allowed someone to misguide me, and my insides curled with shame. I set my expression in a hard mask, not allowing any of my inner turmoil to leak into it. 

“Plus, I don’t know what that thing in her arm is, but I can tell it is old and powerful,” Eric added to his argument. “I could feel it calling to my power.” His expression was scarily serious, and there was no hint of the playful brat left from earlier. “It called to my power of death, specifically.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. Anxiety pooled in my stomach as I realized cutting off her arms was likely the safest thing to do. Even with the possibility she had actively tried to deceive me with her age, she did try to hold the beast back when it sought to attack me. I just couldn’t bring myself to see her as a threat that needed such a heavy-handed approach.

Nathaniel was the one to break the silence as he came to a decision. “We’re not going to cut her arms off.” He said with a finality that dared us to challenge him on it. “If only because the two of you agreeing doesn’t sit right with me. The universe feels out of balance, and I don’t want to encourage this behavior.” Markos’s brow ticked ever-so-slightly with annoyance, but he covered it up with a pretty smile. Any rebuttal he might have made was cut off as Eric spoke up, looking rather put off by my twin’s dismissal.

“Nathaniel-” He began to protest, but my brother grabbed him and pulled him down into his lap in one easy motion. The Vanir’s cheeks flushed with heat as he struggled to free himself from Nathaniel’s grasp. My brother, for his part, seemed to be completely unbothered and simply held his Pet in place and waited for him to be done. Where he found the patience to do so was beyond me. After a few moments, Eric gave up and went limp as a ragdoll- though his face remained colored with embarrassment and frustration. Nathaniel smiled sedately, amusement bright in his green eyes, proud of his victory. He continued with the task at hand.

“We will continue to gather information, and once we’re able to determine the source of that power, Eric– you will begin to work on a new way to bind it so that we’re no longer in danger of an unwanted hostile possession.” He spoke with the calm authority of a born leader. He had always been good in situations like this, not letting his emotions get the better of him. He didn’t look at me directly, but I knew he’d made this decision for me. In the same way I couldn’t bring myself to forcibly tear his Pet away from him all those years ago, he wasn’t going to make me suffer the guilt of undue harm befalling the girl. 

Unfortunately, sparing her arms was as much leniency as he was willing to give.

“Markos, I still want you to go down and find out as much information as possible from her. If she cooperates, do as little harm as necessary to get what we need from her.” Another concession to me, though putting a leash on Markos’s interrogation tactics didn’t make me feel any better.

“Of course,” Markos said with a cheerfulness that was obviously fake. There was a glint in his lavender eyes that didn’t bode well for the girl sitting in our dungeons, despite Nathaniel’s stipulations. I frowned, but the orders were reasonable, and I could not find a place for further arguments. 

“Please fill me in on the information we know already…” My cousin began, lacing his fingers together on the table in front of him as he leveled me with an equally fake smile. I could tell his mind was only partially here, the rest of it already plotting his visit below the castle. 

I sighed, resigned. There was nothing else that I could do. What the girl suffered from that point on was in her hands. I just hoped she was smarter with her attitude towards Markos than she had been with Nathaniel.

Chapter Text

Markos POV

My patience and strength of will enduring the annoyances of the past two weeks had finally paid off. I’d been gifted with a truly exciting opportunity: to examine, up close and personal, a potentially unknown species– or at the very least a rare hybrid of a known one. The only thing that stopped this from being an absolutely perfect present was the limitations Nathaniel had placed upon me for the sake of his brother’s weaker constitution.

Achaicus had always been the needier of the two twins, although from the time they were babies to toddlers they had both been insufferable. Watching him work up the nerve to ask me for help with his sleeping problem since we’d returned to Dunkel had been a long and painful affair. Part of me had simply wanted to confront him about it to get him out of my hair, but another part of me was curious to see how long his pride would hold out before lack of meaningful rest would force his hand. 

He had lasted longer than I would have bet money on, though, so at least he had that.

When I had been called to a meeting with the twins first thing the morning after I’d given Achaicus the placebo pills, I had thought he might have somehow discovered my ruse and had run to tattle on me to his brother. It was much to my displeasure, then, that our paths crossed on my way to the strategy room. The awkward silence, coupled with the fact that he wasn’t already with his brother, led me to believe my deception wasn’t the reason for this meeting after all; and while curious about what we were about to discuss, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to play with the petulant brat. 

While that was greatly amusing in its own right, the revelation that we had been invaded in the night was surprising. Luckily, it had been a single person: a young girl of unknown origin had fallen from Achaicus’s bedroom ceiling dressed in nothing but a night gown. Already the circumstances were highly intriguing, and I had to encourage myself to be patient despite my urge to immediately prepare myself for the visit I was soon to make to the dungeons. There were steps to these things, and I couldn’t let my excitement get in the way of proper procedure.

The more information I learned about our little intruder, the better it got. The running theory was that she was a half-breed cross between a Valkyrie and a human, but her assertion that she came from a “non-human realm” implied that she might be an entirely new species altogether. I dared not hope for the latter, but my heart raced in my chest whenever the possibility crossed my mind. 

Achaicus had gathered annoyingly little useful information during his conversation with the girl, which wasn’t particularly surprising. He had always been more worried about appearances than practicality, and he probably thought it rude to push too hard for information. He had gotten the girl’s name, a vague place of residence, her alleged species, the fact that she was telepathic, and that she had an angry being sealed away in her arms. Eric deduced that she had two, one in each arm, so I would have to be careful as I examined her. The runes holding them back had been severely degraded, but Nathaniel’s Pest had assured me that the binding spell he’d written on the doorframe would protect me from their power even if the seals broke. I was loath to trust him, but without Nathaniel’s permission to cut off her arms, my hands were tied.

I arrived in the dungeons a couple of hours after the meeting had come to an end. I needed to tell Claire that I would be busy with work all day and make sure that Calla was briefed on the situation. She was not, under any circumstances, to tell Claire the truth of what that ‘work’ consisted of. I had told my wife I would be busy with medical research, which was close enough to the truth that it did not nag my conscience. I didn’t want anything distracting me once I got started.

I had made some other preparations in anticipation of the physical examination I planned to perform on the intruder. While Nathaniel and Achaicus seemed to anticipate her cooperation, I hoped that she would resist. The more she fought me, the less care I had to take in not hurting her, and I had given the guards my instructions with that in mind.

I entered the dark cell without fanfare, double-checking my mental shield as my eyes swept the room to quickly take stock of my surroundings. The cell was small and sparsely decorated with an old cot and a latrine in the opposite corner. The new addition of a clean, shiny metal table took up most of the free space in the middle and stood out like a sore thumb amongst the dreary dungeon interior. The girl was huddled up on the dingy bedding, her legs hugged to her chest. She was wearing a fluffy white robe, though it had started to darken with grime from the cell. Her long, straight, black hair was pulled over her shoulder, and her bright red eyes stared at me from across the room. The light spilling in through the open door behind me made them shimmer like rubies, and I smiled at her reassuringly as the door slid shut behind me. A flick of my wrist had hidden lights in the ceiling spring to life, causing her to recoil and lift her arms to shield her eyes from the sudden onslaught of brightness.

“Hello, Ms. Calypso Fierno-Lux, my name is Dr. Markos Bellerose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I allowed my voice to remain lighthearted and jovial, as if I were greeting a new work acquaintance. I set my briefcase down on the table and released the clasps holding it closed. I could feel her wary gaze upon me as I began to unpack some of the items I had brought with me to assist in my examination. She hadn’t moved, but she had the presence of a wild animal– I had a feeling she would bolt at the slightest hint of danger. If that happened and panic seized her too soon, it would be annoying, so I did my best to ease her nerves. “I’m sorry that we’ve met under these unfortunate circumstances, but I’ve been sent to verify some of the claims that you made last night. I’m a doctor, and I’d like to perform a physical examination on you. Would that be okay?” The kindness was a ruse, of course. It would happen whether she wanted it to or not, but I hoped by adding a bit of honey to my poison, she would be more willing to swallow it.

She lingered in her curled-up position for a moment before she gradually unfolded herself. Her skin was pale and unmarked, and she had a pretty, round face with large, oval eyes that gave her the appearance of a helpless doe. I could see how Achaicus would jump to the conclusion that she was a child, but the cold look of mistrust in those eyes threatened my death if I tried anything. An amusing idea that had my smile widen fractionally. She was young, but she wasn’t a child; I was confident in that. 

I held my hand out to her, beckoning her to come closer to me. Her eyes shifted to look at the things laid out on the table as if she was trying to measure the amount of danger she was in. I’d only taken out a pair of silver wrist restraints that looked innocent enough, and that seemed to temper her mistrust a bit. “I’m not lying.” She said softly as her gaze returned to me. Another person might have been swayed by the slight tremble in her voice or the glimmer of fear in her eyes, but I was not moved by her attempts to garner sympathy. Still, I softened my expression as if I had been, and she took another step towards me. Definitely young, still foolish enough to trust me.

“I’m here to confirm that. The sooner we get past this, the sooner we can move you somewhere more comfortable. May I see your hand?” I asked, patiently luring the scared little thing into my trap. “My friend Eric said that the runes on your bandages were degrading. I’ve brought some sealing bracelets to help protect me from the beings inside your arms. Achaicus told me you had to hold one of them back from attacking him last night. Just a precaution, I assure you.” I lied as easily as breathing, despite the slight drain on my magic, as I motioned to the metallic cuffs I had laid out on the table. They were delicate and beautifully crafted and could easily be confused with jewelry. She regarded them with some suspicion, but the girl tentatively held out her hand to me. I allowed my smile to warm as I wrapped my hand around her wrist. I could feel her pulse hammering through the vein beneath her skin, and I had to stop my expression from betraying my amusement as I secured one of the thin, metal rings around the delicate dip between her hand and arm. Once I released her, I waited expectantly for her to present her other hand to me, and she hesitated as if waiting for something to happen. Her brows furrowed a bit as those ruby eyes flicked back to me.

“Nothing changed.” She said with an accusatory tone, and I did my best to give her a reassuring look. “It needs both to work properly.” I was only half committed to this falsehood now; one cuff would be enough to restrain her, and it would be more fun if she tried to resist getting the second one put on. I watched as she searched me for evidence of truth or lies– I might have let my mental barrier slip just a little– and her expression hardened with fierce determination. She had made her decision, and it didn’t appear to be in my favor. She had caught on to my trap, and my smile turned cruel as anger and indignity flooded her gaze. Unfortunately for her, it was too late. 

There was a flurry of movement as she suddenly lurched away from me. She was fast, surprisingly so, and if I hadn’t been warned of this during the meeting, I might have missed it. Regardless of where she tried to dart off to, there was nowhere for her to run, and with a casual wave of my hand, a chord of blue energy sprang from the cuff on her wrist and attached to the table. Most people would have thought the weight of the metal heavy enough to hold back a girl of her stature, but I had taken the precaution of having the legs anchored to the floor with industrial-level screws. When facing the unknown, it was always better to be unnecessarily over-prepared than be caught lacking, and as the metal groaned with the snap of tension on the magical binding, I was glad that I did. She’d reached the end of her tether and was frantically trying to slip her wrist through the silver cuff, but the metal was infused with magic that adjusted its circumference as necessary. 

Her struggling began to subside as the runes Eric had written began to take effect. He’d told me that if she tried to manifest her power, it would activate a sort of spell tap that would quickly drain that power to non-dangerous levels. I watched as a surprising amount of energy leeched out of her like a fire after fuel was cast upon it. It billowed up around her in deep reds, oranges, and yellows. Her struggling quickly weakened, and I had to hand it to the brat: he was an excellent spellwriter. 

I twirled my finger lazily in the air and the energy tether attached to the ring of metal on her wrist began to shorten. She grunted and leaned all of her weight against it, her bare feet scraping and sliding as she struggled to find purchase. It was pointless, but I admired the strength of her spirit– it was a pity I wasn’t allowed to try and break it. Finally, her wrist was pinned to the table and she stood hunched over it, cradling it as she sucked in heavy breaths. Her hair fell over her face, strands of it clinging to her forehead and cheeks as cold sweat beaded on her porcelain skin. I gave her a pleasant smile and the hatred in her gaze intensified. Lovely.

“Give me your other hand,” I said sedately as I once again held my palm out for her. If looks could kill, I would definitely be dead with the seething glare she shot me, but as it was I simply stood and waited. She had nowhere to go, and I was very patient. 

“I… I didn’t do anything!” There was a desperation in her voice that tickled the part of my brain that enjoyed holding power over others. “Why are you doing this to me!?”

“I am simply doing my job.” I let out a bit of a dramatic sigh, as if her melodramatics were burdensome. “Let me explain something to you about your situation. You are about to be faced with a series of choices, and depending on which actions you choose to take or not take will vary the amount of discomfort you face from mildly unpleasant to unfathomable agony. The power is in your hands, although I do hope your choices will tilt things towards ‘unfathomable agony.’ I can learn so much more about a creature when I’m allowed to pick them apart.” I gave her another sickly sweet smile, though I knew she could see the malicious glow in my eyes as the light drained from hers. It seemed she finally understood her situation. “Now, are you going to give me your hand, or are we going to pick the fun option?”

She looked at me for several moments, and I hoped that she would choose to resist. I wasn’t disappointed as she suddenly moved to bring her free hand to her mouth. It didn’t occur to me what she was doing; I just moved on instinct and anticipation to grab her arm and twist it callously behind her back. The sickening sound of bone slipping from socket filled the room, and the girl gave a short cry of pain. She trembled in my hands, forcibly bent over the table with a newly dislocated shoulder. I hadn’t applied that much force, so I was surprised by the injury. I wondered if she’d suffered this particular malady before, as the tendons and ligaments holding the joint in place get stretched and damaged, making it easier for it to happen again in the future. I would have to check once I began my examination.

“Tell me, do all angels lack intelligence and basic survival instincts?” I asked coyly as I used the leverage of her shoulder injury and a strong grip on her hair to make her stand up straight. Her breath caught, but she didn’t scream- which was impressive considering the amount of pain she must have been in. 

“Fuck you.” She grit through her teeth, and I chuckled. I pulled harder on her hair, causing her head to arch back and applied more pressure on her shoulder until I was finally able to draw a proper scream from her.

“See, that was a choice. Did you like the consequence?” I purred as I moved her around to the long side of the table. She sucked in a deep, ragged breath as the arm connected to the table twisted, and I glanced down at her wrist. It was hard to tell with the bandages covering it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was broken with all the struggling she’d done before. At the very least, it was badly bruised, judging by the way it seemed to cause her pain to move it. “We’re coming up on another choice here.” I pointed it out to her just in case she was lost in a haze of the sensations of her broken body. “Get on the table.”

I could feel her tensing in preparation to fight me and I gleefully prepared to dislocate her elbow– but she shuddered and all of the fight seemed to drain out of her. Disappointing. “Okay.” She said in a quiet voice that had me frowning. If this was all she had in her I was going to be a little disappointed. Regardless of my personal feelings, there was still a lot of work to be done, and I would enjoy it regardless of her fighting me or not. I grabbed her arm and helped hoist her up onto the table. She bit back little sounds of discomfort as I manipulated her arm back around to her front and I gave her a reserved smile. 

“No need to hold back on my account,” I assured her, and she gave me a sharp look. Good, her fight wasn’t completely gone at least. “Lie down on your back and I’ll perform a reduction on your shoulder.” I didn’t mind it staying out of place, but I wanted her as intact for my initial examination as possible. She shifted and lay down, and I positioned myself back around to the other side of the table. I placed one hand on her elbow and the other on her shoulder and brought her arm up in one swift motion without warning. Her cry faded into a groan of pain and relief as she tried to twist away from me. I held firm to her elbow and grabbed the other silver circlet, taking the opportunity to slip it over her wrist. It shrank down to press tightly against her skin, and only then did I release her.

As soon as she was free from me, she curled in on herself with her back turned to me. I gave her a moment to collect herself as I opened my briefcase again. The silence between us was palpable, broken only by the shallow rasps of her breathing. My equipment made soft, metallic clinking sounds as I sorted through them, and her body stilled with fearful anticipation. “What are you… going to do to me?” She asked quietly and I finished pulling on a pair of latex gloves before I responded.

“Whatever is necessary to get the answers to my questions,” I said candidly. “I have a lot of them, so we should get started. I’m going to release the binding connecting you to the table. If you try to pull that same stunt as before, the results will be no different and I won’t be as gentle in my handling.” She turned and gave me an incredulous look, and I returned it without any change in my placid expression. “Take your robe off.”

The blue tether holding her hand down disappeared, and she slowly sat up. She cradled it against her stomach as her cheeks dusted with a blush of embarrassment. “I’m not decent underneath.” 

“I don’t care,” I said flatly, cocking my head to the side slightly as I stared down at her, my intense focus like a cat eyeing a mouse. “Take the robe off, or I’ll do it for you.” All of this leniency was getting irksome. She was treading on thin ice, and if she carried on as she was, I was going to stop asking.

She didn’t take as long to act this time, but she was slow in her movements as she undid the tie holding it together. She removed it carefully, minding her injuries, revealing a barely-there silk nightgown. I was surprised by the quality of it. I had assumed by her attitude and the fact that she was a half breed that she was a member of the lower class, but the garment she wore was the quality fae nobility would wear. I reached out and touched it, not caring when she flinched. 

“You should remove this as well. It’s well made, the blood will ruin it.” She swallowed thickly and gave me a concerned look, obviously bothered by my words and what they implied. “I don’t care either way.” I waited, and she continued to eye me with suspicion, and my mind sorted through what might be giving her pause. “I have no interest in your body, if that’s your concern. Take it off or leave it on, I don't care.” I repeated, a hint of annoyance lacing my tone. Claire’s body was soft and curvy; this girl’s was all sharp angles and hard edges- she didn't even come close to my wife in attractiveness. “Trust me, I’ve seen better.” Cruelty leaked into my voice, and she seemed to understand that she was nearing the end of her rope. She reached up with her good arm and slid the straps off of her shoulders before she hopped off the table and let the garment fall to the floor. She stood with her back to me, her arms crossed over her chest. She was slender, lacking the musculature that would be necessary for the strength she had displayed when trying to escape earlier. My eyes swept over the bare skin of her shoulder blades, looking for any indication of the wings I’d been told she had, but I could find nothing that implied they were there. 

“I was told you have wings,” I said nonchalantly as I pulled some instruments out of my briefcase. There was a flurry of movement and the ruffling of feathers and I cursed myself for having looked away, for when my eyes returned to her, I was staring at a pair of pitch black wings that were so large they obscured her whole body from view. They shifted slightly as she folded them neatly against her body. I stared for a few moments, my heart racing with excitement and my mind racing with questions. I couldn’t stop the smile that pulled the corners of my mouth so taut my teeth showed. 

“Fascinating.” I breathed. “Do that again.”

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Markos POV

A pile of discarded black feathers sat in a pool of congealing blood on the floor beside the steel table. The girl’s wing was pinned open with a thin blade stuck in the joint, and it dripped blood lazily from its exposed point. Beads of the crimson liquid welled up from the divots in the skin where feathers had been efficiently plucked, and I hummed to myself as I jotted down notes about the now bare anatomy of the wing beneath. I had stripped half of its length of feathers to reveal what was underneath and had collected a variety of different-shaped feathers for closer analysis. It had only been an hour, and I had discovered a wealth of data about our little intruder.

First and foremost, she wasn’t half human. Whatever the other half of her was was virtually indistinguishable, leading me to believe she might be a cross between different breeds of the same species, like a mixed-breed dog. Her anatomy was also completely foreign and unlike anything I had ever seen before. The macro of it was similar enough; her skeleton and musculature were all very much like ours. On a cellular level, however, her biology was completely different. Our bodies, and those of other magical beings like Vanir, draw power from glands similar to lymph nodes through waylines that are spread throughout the body like veins and arteries, only they carry magic instead of blood. There existed no such system in the girl. Instead, her power emanated from within her cells. Each one created and stored its own amount of power, and what was more fascinating was how the cells were able to adapt and change depending on the amount of power applied and the intent behind it. 

Her wings, for example, were created by amassing a concentration of her power at two unassuming nodules at the points of her shoulder blades. While normally dormant, upon application of power to these points, the cells within them began to multiply and change, rapidly forming a new set of wings. Her musculature and skeleton changed as well to support the new appendages and, presumably, flight. When she withdrew the energy, the wings themself were reabsorbed back into the body, the cells and organic material used to create them breaking down into the building blocks that made them before being redistributed throughout her body. It was fascinating, and I had spent a significant amount of time experimenting with the mechanics of it.

The girl had been accommodating enough at the beginning, summoning and withdrawing her wings several times as I instructed. When I told her to lie down so I could examine her, she did so without complaint, although she kept her arms crossed over her chest and groin. Such acts of modesty were pointless, but I didn’t instruct her to move them as they wouldn’t hinder my powers. The feeling of another person’s energy pushing into your body is rather unpleasant, but she held still as I scanned her from head to toe. Her shoulders both showed signs of previous dislocations, though when I asked her about that, she declined to answer. I made a note to circle back around to it later in my notes and moved on. Her wrist was, in fact, broken, something I pointed out to her as an avoidable consequence if she hadn’t made a poor choice earlier. That earned me an angry glare and what I was sure was a mental ‘fuck you,’ though she didn’t say it out loud this time. She was learning.

I asked her questions while I worked, and she was very forthcoming with information. She came from a place called Heofon, where a species of magical beings called angels dwelled under a solidified energy dome somewhere in the non-human realm. She had never been outside of it before last night, so she couldn’t tell me exactly where it was located- not that I would know anyway, but more information was always better, and I was annoyed that she lacked this knowledge. She told me that the society was a matriarchy, with women holding more power than men and the Queen being the highest head of the ruling class. I found this interesting, as it correlated with the Valkyrie hierarchy, and I wondered if they might be distantly related. When I asked her where she fell in her society, she told me she was a servant to a lord who lived in the palace, and when pushed about the nightgown, she said it was a gift from him. I wasn’t sure if that was a lie or not, but we could always explore that later.

I had her turn around and repeated the examination process on her back. When I discovered the wing nodules, I was curious enough to explore them further. My ability to see through flesh only extended so far, which meant I had to cut her open to get a closer look. I activated the tethers on her wrist cuffs and pinned her wrists to the table in anticipation of her becoming upset with what was to come, which had her panicking. She moved to swing off the table, and I grabbed her leg, squeezing hard enough to bruise as I pinned her to the table. “Calm down, I’m only doing this because I don’t want you to move involuntarily from the pain of the procedure I’m about to perform; it would hinder my examination.” My expression remained neutral as she thrashed beneath me, apparently unswayed by my explanation, and I casually grabbed a couple more of the silver restraints from my case. I slipped one over the ankle of the leg I had, and the tether immediately activated and pulled it taught towards the nearest corner of the table. She let out a string of very impressive expletives, and I smiled with amusement as I repeated the process on her other leg. Once she was fully restrained, I returned to the side and picked up the scalpel from my neatly organized surgical tools. Having the instrument in my hand always helped settle my soul, and I let out a soft exhale of satisfaction before I got to work. Her angry words quickly turned to pained cries as I sliced open her skin, and in that moment, all was right in the world.

Once I cut deep enough to expose the nodules, I began my experimentation. I found that I could force the manifestation of her wings by pushing my power directly into the nodes, though this appeared to be extremely painful for the girl. The scream it pulled from her lips was sharp and guttural, and when it was done, she collapsed down against the table as she sobbed quietly. I took some time to write some notes down, and by the time I finished, she had stopped crying and instead lay still on the table. She tensed when I placed my hand on her wing, reflexively pulling it closer to her body.

“Please…” She begged, her voice quiet and raspy. “I didn’t do anything, I cooperated…” Her voice cracked as her body trembled on the cold steel of the table. “Why are you doing this to me?”

I didn’t bother lying when I responded. “You are interesting,” I said simply, and she shuddered. I felt a surge of something concerningly powerful move within her, and I paused in my motions, although I didn’t release her. It settled after a moment, and my head tilted, my expression curious. 

“Was that the beast?” I probed as I pulled her wing open to examine it.

“Yes.” She said with some effort. 

“What is it?” I slid my fingers between her feathers, taking note of the patterns the different types made. 

She hesitated for a moment before letting out a stuttering sigh. “A… Dragon…” She again spoke with difficulty, and I glanced down at her. She had her face turned pointedly away from me, as if to avoid looking at me while she spoke. So many new questions bloomed in my mind as I slid my hand over the underside of her wing, and her body shivered. 

“Sensitive?” I asked with mild amusement. Her wing jerked out of my hand in response, and my eyes glowed with malice. She shouldn’t have turned away from me; she would have been more prepared when I grabbed her wing and stretched it wide. Without a second thought, I drove a long, thin, straight blade through the folding joint at the apex, and she choked on a scream. “I don’t want you to get tired of holding your wing out like this.” My voice dripped with dark sarcasm. “This is going to take a while.”

I began to pluck the feathers from her wing one by one, aiming to reveal and examine the underlying structure. “Tell me about the dragon in your arm,” I said absently as I focused on the task of methodically removing her feathers. Their removal didn’t seem to garner as much pain as I might have expected, or perhaps she was distracted by the greater pain of having a knife stabbed into her joint. 

“His… His name is… Ater…” She breathed the words with each raspy gasp that accompanied me pulling another feather. 

“I see.” I pulled one of the larger flight feathers, and that seemed to hurt as her body seized and she let out a high-pitched, keening whine before throwing herself back down onto the table. I tsked and trailed the tip of her newly plucked feather down her side. “So dramatic~” I chuckled, and she hissed at me like an angry housecat. 

“I should let him rip the flesh from your bones.” She growled darkly.

“Why don’t you?” This was something I’d wondered since hearing about it. “Is he usually violent? Why do you have him in your arm in the first place?”

“I’m not a monster.” She said bitterly. I guessed by her tone that she was trying to imply that I was a monster, and I couldn’t say I disagreed with her. “I don’t take out my anger by hurting other pe-“

I cut her off, abruptly plucking the rest of her flight feathers in quick succession. She writhed in her restraints, holding back her scream until the last two, when she finally cried out in a combination of pain and frustration. I tossed most of the feathers carelessly onto the floor as she sucked in loud, shuddering breaths. “Sorry, you were saying?”

I placed the large flight feather into a clear plastic biocollection bag and wrote down some notes as she hesitated in answering me. It was a brief pause as she regained her composure, and then she proceeded with a forced sense of calmness. I was impressed with her willingness to speak still, if not a bit disappointed. Withholding information would open up my ability to use funner extraction methods on her; as it was, she was frustratingly open.

“He originally… Belonged to my father…” She spoke with some difficulty, but I couldn’t tell if the strain was physical or emotional. My attention refocused on her with a sharp movement of my head, and I walked around to stand in front of her. I crouched down so that I could make eye contact with her. 

“Sorry to interrupt again, there are just so many fascinating things about you that I can’t help myself– Was the angel half of you from your mother or your father?” My eyes gleamed in the harsh lights that reflected from above, and hers were darkened with shadow as she looked at me with complete and utter disdain.

“My mother.” She said flatly. I nodded, accepting that answer as truth.

“Now I know that you lied about being half human–”

“I didn’t lie!” She interjected quickly, all of her fierce bravado draining from her quickly as she jumped to a conclusion. “I-Is that why you’re doing this? Because you think I lied about being human?” She sounded hopeful, as if she thought this was all some big misunderstanding. “Achaicus just assumed–”

Of course he did. I sighed and stood up, disappointed in my cousin’s lack of thorough questioning. I took out my frustration on her wing, pulling large handfuls of smaller feathers out as if I were plucking a chicken. “Wait– wait, please!” She cried as I mercilessly stripped her wing. The skin beneath was a dark greyish-black and looked very similar to the wings of a bird of prey. I hummed to myself as I jotted down more notes, ignoring her quiet crying in the background.

“If you’re not half human, what is your father?” I set my pen down, returning my attention to her as if she wasn’t still shaking with tiny sobs. 

“I hate you.” She rasped, and I snorted a laugh as I leaned against the table. I crossed my arms loosely over my chest and turned my head to look down at her. 

“You join the end of a very long line,” I said with amusement in my voice. “Tell me about your father, or I’ll start actually torturing you.” 

Her body tensed as my words settled into her mind. I could just imagine her thinking, ‘This isn’t torture?’ and I had to hold back my laughter. She had no idea the amount of restraint I was showing her, and how badly I was itching for her to give me a chance to truly hurt her. I had to admit she was an entertaining mix of defiant and compliant. I, at least, was having a great time.

“My father was a… fire demon…” She said it so quietly I almost didn’t hear her, and I was nearly certain I had misheard her. I pushed off the table to crouch beside her head again. 

“Pardon?” I asked coyly, trying not to sound too eager. She turned her head away from me as if she was ashamed, or perhaps afraid.

“He was a fire demon.”

I took a few moments to dissect the information presented there. She referred to her father in the past tense, which implied he was dead. Was her mother dead as well? She’d said he was a fire demon– what did that mean? How many types of demons were there? What were demons? Was she referring to the twisted spirits that witches summoned to fight like puppets? I didn’t think so, she was too elegant a being to be like those wretched creatures– but was it a spectrum? Like dogs– perhaps she was a regal German shepherd while the evil spirits the witches dominated were inbred, mangled creatures like pugs or those flat-faced bulldogs that couldn’t even breathe properly? I took a deep breath in, so many questions flooding through my mind I didn’t know where to start.

“Is that why you’re so keen to prove you’re not a monster?” I asked at last, and her body stilled– I’d struck a nerve, it seemed. I grabbed her face and forced her to look at me, letting her see my true expression. I smiled ferally, my elongated canines clearly visible as my eyes flashed with sadistic pleasure. “Like I said earlier, there’s no need to hold back with me. We’re all monsters here.”

Chapter Text

Calypso POV

‘We’re all monsters here.’

I had known a great many monsters in my life. Angels preached that all demons were such, with their often beastly and twisted forms. Born to be evil with little to no self-control, in the city of Heofon they were treated as second-class citizens. Forced into a life of poverty and suffering, many turned to crime to avoid starvation. It was a blatantly self-perpetuating system, but the angels didn’t care. They would damn a child for stealing an apple as if they had just committed a murder; it was all the same in their eyes.

But in the castle, there were remarkably few demons, and I was not permitted to leave unescorted— especially not to the slums where most of their populace lived. I could count the number of demons I knew on one hand, and none of them would I consider a monster. They weren’t cruel, or malicious, or spiteful just for the sake of one’s blood. No, the monsters I knew all had beautiful faces, pristine golden hair, and blue eyes. They wore masks of kindness, smiling with their teeth while sadistic pleasure shone in their eyes. Just like the man who now knelt before me.

There was one major difference between Dr. Markos Bellerose and the angels of Heofon: he didn’t shy away from his cruelty. He tortured me as readily as one might enjoy a fine meal or partake in a favorite hobby. Even with his mental shields up, I could feel the sadistic satisfaction he felt with every scream he was able to pull from me, and it made me sick. If I hadn’t been tied down when he implied we were of the same nature, I might have punched him for the offense it brought me. 

I had spent every moment of my life fighting the stigma that the blood of my father pumping through my veins made me a monster, that being a half-demon somehow tainted me and made me defective. I had often quipped that if being half-demon was enough to completely override my angel half, were they really the superior beings? If they were truly as powerful and pure as they claimed, one would expect their side of things to come out on top. 

They didn’t like that, and I was often punished for saying such things aloud. ‘Typical, stupid demon’ and all that.

“I don’t need to prove anything. I am not a monster.” I repeated firmly, glaring at him as if my gaze could harm him. Ater pushed against his barrier again, and I had to close my eyes to concentrate on not letting him slip. His energy recovered more slowly than mine did, but whatever spell Eric had written on the door had sapped most of my power when I had tried to flee Markos earlier, and it was making it difficult to hold him back even in his weakened state. My attempt at escape had been fueled by panic more than anything, and on top of activating the spell that bled my magic like a stuck pig, I had broken my wrist in the process. A fact Markos gleefully pointed out to me when he discovered it during his 'medical examination.' I kicked myself again for trusting this fox and his stupid fucking ‘nice guy’ routine. ‘Oh, just let me examine you so I can make sure you’re telling the truth, I totally won’t do anything horrible to you, and I’m definitely not a psycho.’ God, I was so stupid. I should have known something was up when he wove magic into his words, but I wanted to be believed by these fae so badly that I had stopped thinking critically.

Markos stood and moved out of my line of sight again, and I tensed. I hated this man. I hated him nearly as much as I hated Salmar and Cassius. I hadn’t thought anyone could come close to their ranking on my shit list, but he was stunningly good at being an asshole. 

“Suit yourself.” He said as metal clinked somewhere to my left. I felt the cold bite of metal slicing into my skin without warning, and I sucked in a sharp breath. I had a high pain tolerance: I had been kicked, punched, battered, bruised, and broken, but I had never been purposefully tortured before. Being cut into was a different beast, especially when the man began digging his fingers around, cutting away layers of tissue and ligament. My wing went limp as he severed something that was holding it up, and excruciating, searing agony pulsed through me in steady beats. Tears streamed involuntarily from my eyes, and my scream was hoarse. The edges of my vision started to go black, and that was bad. If I passed out, Ater might have enough power to push his way into the control seat, and I didn’t want to be in more trouble than I already was. Markos didn’t help the situation, however, as he spoke from his place beside me.

“Oops.” He said as if he’d just made a silly little mistake. “Looks like that one is the main tendon. Can you try flexing your wing for me?” He asked casually, and I couldn’t hold back the growl that chased the scream from my throat. Ater’s energy pushed through the cracks in the seal on my arm, billowing out like black smoke into the air. I could feel the runes of the binding spell written on the door activate, and I was relieved that it would work on him as well. Markos didn’t move, but I was sure he was eagerly observing the new development. 

“One day, fox, I will rend your flesh from your bones. I will peel the skin from your broken body like a grape and crush your skull beneath my foot.” The dragon’s voice echoed over my own, my control over my body temporarily impaired. I waited for the spell tap to drain him enough that I could shove him back into his box, which didn’t take long. I was left panting and exhausted, and I could hear Markos scribbling more notes.

“Interesting.” I took the moment of his distraction to rest and recover from the pain he had inflicted, and the toll Ater’s domination had taken on me. “Have you ever heard of a species called the Vanir?” He asked with a casual off-handedness that came across as him not trying to rouse my suspicion. 

“No,” I said flatly, although Ater chuckled inside my mind.

Old power. His voice chittered like thousands of spiders climbing up a wall. Death. I knew I smelled it on him.

“Is that what Eric is?” I asked, taking a chance to gather some information in return. There was a pause, and Markos decided not to answer as he asked another question instead.

“Does your dragon know of them?”

I sighed, frustrated. My back throbbed with eye-watering pain, and this man wanted to have a conversation that could have been carried out over tea. 

“Apparently.” I let frustration leak into my voice. “Are you going to heal my wing when you’re all done with this?”

He hummed and pushed his fingers back into the wound on my back. “Potentially.” I was getting better at picking out his lies. They were laced with minute threads of magic, as if he had to overcome some block in order to say them out loud. This bastard had no intention of healing me. He’d probably leave me wounded to gather information on my healing rate or something like that. Or just for the joy my continued misery would bring him. It was hard to guess which one would be more likely. Probably both, if my experience with the man so far was any indication.

“Do the people in charge know what you’re doing?” I asked with less confidence, although I hoped I was able to fake it enough that he wouldn’t pick up on it. I could hear the amusement in his voice as he answered, and I had a feeling he had seen right through me.

“Of course.” He said lightly. “They sent me for a reason.” 

I let that sink in for a moment. Achaicus wasn’t the one in charge here, but his brother was, which meant he had to have some power here. He’d even threatened me with this very scenario during our initial conversation… Did he condone this? Had what I’d felt on the other end of that tether been a trap to lure interesting creatures here so this monster could pick them apart? 

“Is… Is Achaicus one of those people?” I couldn’t even try to hide the trepidation in my voice this time, and Markos’s answer came without hesitation.

“Yes.”

I had no business being as devastated by that answer as I was. Part of me pushed through the despair that I couldn’t trust this man, that he was a fox and would lie whenever it would serve him… but both answers had lacked the magic I suspected lined his lies. Perhaps it was a clever ruse to make me feel isolated and betrayed, to heighten the feelings of pain and helplessness during his interrogation, but I couldn’t reconcile that logic with the surge of negative emotions that hit me, and I struggled to hold back my tears. 

“So you have a dragon in your right arm, what’s in your left?” Markos asked, completely ignoring my emotional crisis as if he hadn’t noticed at all. I was actually happy for the distraction, and Atra was a much more pleasant topic of conversation.

“Another dragon,” I said softly, the fight drained from my body and my voice. 

“It seems to be a lot less volatile than the one on your right,” He noted, and I shifted slightly on the table. Fire spread from the severed tendon on my wing, and I regretted it immediately. 

“She’s… ah- a lot nicer.” I gasped through the pain. “She is the embodiment of light, given to me to counterbalance… Ater,” I winced as I turned my head to look towards my left arm. “He was causing a lot of problems when I first got him.” It had been chaos in the moments after Ater had entered my body, as he had immediately overwhelmed my young consciousness and gone on a bloody rampage to avenge my father. My mother was the only one he would not hurt, and she had passed on Atra to me in a moment of desperation. It was a crazy idea, borne of a mother desperate to save her daughter, but it worked. I’ve spent my life since then trying to keep the two from going to war inside my body and mind, which is not a very fun experience.

Markos was quiet for several moments after my answer, and I began to wonder what he was thinking. I felt a bit nervous for no other reason than the unknown of his intentions.

“It seems a bit strange that a servant girl would end up with two very powerful beings locked inside of her body.” He said it as a casual observation, but I could hear the accusation clear as day through his pleasant tone. He suspected I had lied to him. I had, of course, but I had been lazy in my groundwork, and he had seen the glaring hole in it straight away. He placed his hand upon my back and I felt a sensation of liquid ice pouring into my veins as he began to push his energy into my body. It was different from what he had done before, when he’d used his power to extend his vision within me– something that I had done with others on occasion when healing. This time, he was saturating my cells with his energy, taking advantage of their ability to take and pass on energy like he had when he had forced the manifestation of my wings. It was agony, and I screamed as it seeped further and further into me.

“Are you lying to me, little monster?” He asked with poorly veiled excitement. I could hardly focus enough to make coherent words to answer him.

“Y-yes, I’m- I’m sorry, please, please stop-”

“You aren’t a servant girl then?” He knew the answer, but the bastard was going to make me say it, even if I choked on the words as I did.

“No, please, I’m sorry-” I had never felt the sensation I did in that moment; his energy was so cold it burned. It burned me, a fire demon. My brain couldn’t comprehend the situation, and it felt like the pain would consume my very being. “Please-”

“What are you, then? An assassin? A spy? What’s your purpose for coming here?” His voice was as cold as the power that was filling every space in my body.

“H-heir-” I choked out, tears streaming down my face. “I’m the- heir-”

He stopped all at once, his hand withdrawing from me as if I had burned him. His energy lingered inside of me, my cells saturated with it, but it ceased to feel like I was burning alive. My body began to shiver violently, feeling genuinely cold for the first time in my life. 

“You’re what?” He asked sharply, his voice now holding a dangerous edge to it. I was too wiped to care.

“I’m the… heir…” My voice was small and weak. I felt like I was going to throw up. “My mother is… Eumelia Lux… Queen of Heofon. I’m… her only daughter…” I closed my eyes, my head spinning. I feared I was going to pass out. “I… came… to help… He felt so… sad…” My lungs burned as I struggled to draw enough breath in to not feel starved for oxygen.

I felt his hands upon me again, and I groaned, expecting more pain. “I’m not lying, I promise, please…” 

“Shut up.” He said with a surprising amount of irritation. His energy pushed into me again, and it hurt, but… Some of the pain of the wound on my back began to ease. He moved on to my wing and pulled the knife from the joint in one swift motion. I sighed with relief and immediately retracted them back into my body. It didn’t matter how injured the outward parts were, as long as the nodules were unharmed, they would respawn completely healed. He sucked in a sharp breath, and I could feel his annoyance billowing out from his mental shield like steam. In my pain-altered state, I was confused by his sudden change of heart, and even more so when he began to pack up his tools. I wanted to ask him if he was done, but I didn’t want to jinx anything.

He left without releasing me and without saying anything, leaving me alone in my misery. He had done some fixing of the wound on my back, and the retracting of my wings had healed the cut tendon, but I was still naked, my wrist was still broken, and the worst of it was the flood of ice-cold energy that was sitting in my body like poison. I shivered again, wondering how long I would be left alone this time.

Chapter Text

Achaicus POV

“Achaicus, either sit down or leave. Pacing around like a worried hen is making it impossible to concentrate, and I have to finish this paperwork by nightfall.”

Nathaniel’s words were quick and sharp, his irritation with me blatantly clear. I had spent some time pacing back and forth in his office, unable to focus enough to be productive but unwilling to be alone. My thoughts were too loud, and I didn’t want to be inebriated when Markos was finished with his interrogation.

I threw myself onto one of the chairs sat opposite my brother at his desk in an uncharacteristically uncontrolled manner. A deep sigh escaped me as I gazed out the window. The sun had crested the apex of the sky some time ago and was steadily approaching the horizon. Nathaniel’s deep green eyes flicked up to glare at me, apparently unsatisfied with the execution of his demand. I ignored him as my leg jostled, my anxiety too high to sit still.

“He’s been at it nearly all day,” I said, the observation unattached to anything discussed within the last several hours, at least. It felt like my brother had been purposefully avoiding the topic of Calypso and what tortures our cousin was undoubtedly subjecting her to at this very moment in the dungeons beneath us. He had ordered me to quit discussing it just after midday, when I had expressed my hesitation in the judgement for the sixth time since the meeting we’d had earlier that morning. 

“Yes, I’m sure he’s being very thorough and gathering as much information for us as possible.” He said, exasperated. He set his pen down with a heavy thud and gave me a pointed stare. “If you’re that worried about it, why don’t you go down and check on them? If you feel like she needs a break, tell him I need to speak with him or something.” 

He picked up his pen and began scribbling on yet another repair report from Leúchtend. My chest tightened, and I gave him a look, but he was pointedly ignoring me again. Markos would be quite irritated with him for enabling my ‘weak will,’ and I was a bit ashamed to admit that I was grateful for his willingness to endure our irate cousin for my benefit. 

“Alright,” I said simply as I stood up, putting on an air of indifference as I approached the door.

“Just keep in mind that you don’t know her, Achaicus.” Nathaniel’s voice stopped me, and I looked over my shoulder at him, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. “She’s not some little wounded animal you found in the woods. For all you know, she could have been sent to try and kill you.”

“But she didn’t,” I said firmly. “... Though I’ll keep that in mind.” I conceded after a moment. The last time I’d trusted someone I shouldn’t have hung in the air between us. I’d defended her, too, and her betrayal had almost cost Calla, Claire, and Hadrian their lives. I didn’t give myself a chance to see the sympathy in his eyes as I turned abruptly and left.

———

The halls of Dunkel were bustling with activity. The repairs at Leúchtend had progressed enough that we could move in, and vacating the dark castle was a top priority. Nathaniel had agreed to give it to the Southern Elves in lieu of his firstborn child, as his choice in mate rendered that option moot. Servants carried heavy boxes and carefully wrapped vintage furniture from their locations towards the streets below, where they would be packed into caravans with equal caution for the trek to Leúchtend. I was cut off and rerouted several times on my way to the dungeon, so when I arrived, my mood was admittedly a bit sour. The guards in front of Calypso’s cell stood at attention and I ignored them as I slid the lock open and nearly kicked in the door. My annoyance was knocked abruptly from me as surely as the air from my lungs would be if I’d been punched in the gut. 

I certainly felt like I had been.

The metallic tang of blood filled the air, and my nose wrinkled at the smell of it. The room was small, and bright lights shone harshly from hidden overhead fixtures. It was impossible to miss the scene that lay before me.

A metal table was bolted to the floor in the middle of the room, and Calypso lay upon it, stripped even of the dainty nightgown she had appeared in. She lay on her stomach, with her back exposed, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the rather sizable lacerations along her shoulder blades. A pile of black feathers lay discarded in a pool of congealed blood that seeped towards the small drain beneath the table. Her head was turned in my direction, and my gaze caught on hers as she stared at me. Cold fury and bitter hatred burned in her crimson eyes like a bonfire, and I felt guilt twist in my stomach. I wanted to take a step back, to shrink away from the accusations that look hurled at me, but I stood firm. “What-” I began, but she cut me off before I could say anything else.

“Of course, his turn was over.” She said with a voice so hoarse she could barely speak above a whisper, sounding as if she had just figured something out. I pressed my lips together in a hard line, my body frozen in place as she continued. “Have you come to have a go? Perhaps you’ll chop my wings off to see if they grow back? Cut me open some more to see if I have any other unique parts?” She laughed, the movement causing her body to tremor, and a chill ran down my spine. “You strike me as more old-fashioned, though. What’s your poison? Shoving needles under my nails? Flaying the skin from my flesh? I gotta warn you, if you’re into burning people, that’s not going to work.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, forcing down the emotions that were struggling to fight their way to the forefront of my mind. She had obviously been tortured, which meant she had resisted. It was a shame, but if she hadn’t wanted to be hurt, she should have just answered his questions. “None of that would have been necessary if you just complied,” I said, letting that justification absolve me of the guilt I felt churning in my gut.

She stared at me for a long moment. “Is that what he told you?” She asked, more quietly now. She sounded defeated, and all the bravado of two seconds ago went out like a candle dropped in a bucket of water. “I did what he said…” She suddenly sounded so small, and I took a step forward without realizing it. “I’m sorry I lied about who I was. I was scared-” Her voice broke, and I realized she was crying. All hesitation melted from me as I strode the three steps it took to reach the table, and I pulled off my coat at the same time. I flared it out and placed it over her naked body, and in the sudden closeness I got a better look at the state she was in.

She was shivering violently, and the skin on her back had a strange, blue-grey tint to it. Her face was covered in a thin film of sweat, and her once bright eyes looked remarkably dull up close. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the table using some kind of thin, magic cuffs. I placed my hand upon her shoulder reassuringly, and she flinched as if in pain. I frowned, trying to reconcile what I wanted this to be with what my eyes were seeing. 

“I’m sorry, sometimes he gets carried away-”

“Carried away!?” Her voice cracked, and her body shuddered again as little wisps of fire like energy wafted off of her. “He- He plucked the feathers off my wing! He cut me open, forced- forced his energy into my back-” She began hyperventilating, and I struggled to keep the panic tightening in my chest under control, unsure of what I could do to calm her down. 

“It- It could have been worse, he- he wanted to cut your arms off-” I stammered as I tried to settle her. It was not effective. 

“What the fuck!?” She began to pull against her restraints, but the bands on her wrists were stuck tightly to the table, and her energy faded concerningly quickly. She fell still, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath. “He’s right, you’re all fucking monsters.” Her voice was bitter but defeated. “I should never have come here.” 

I hesitated; the question stuck on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to ask, but I was afraid of the answer. Finally, my need to know won out, and I blurted it out before my will withered. “Why?” My voice sounded too loud in the quiet of the tiny room. “Why did you come here?”

She was quiet for a long moment, as if she didn’t want to answer. She shifted and turned her head away from me, and I wondered if she would even respond.

“You were so sad.”

Her voice was small and quiet, and I found myself leaning closer to her to make sure I’d heard her properly. “I kept feeling… So much pain… I didn’t know where it was coming from or who you were, but I just… I couldn’t stand someone else hurting like that. I wanted to help you.”

I felt ice flood my veins as my fears were confirmed. I leaned my hands against the edge of the table to steady myself, my head spinning for a moment as overwhelming guilt washed over me. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, my voice straining.

“Obviously.” She snipped back. “If I had known you were the type of person to leave a girl in the hands of a sadistic asshole, I would have left you to suffer.” 

Her words stung, and my face scrunched at the unpleasant feeling. “I didn’t ask you for your help,” I said defensively. “And I tried-”

“Do me a favor and stop trying to help me. Either do something or don’t. Help me, or fucking leave me to my misery.” She coughed a bit, another tremor wracking her body. “You came here to what? See how much I was suffering? To make yourself feel better? You’ve draped your coat over me, but I’m still bound to this table. You stopped him from cutting off my arms, but I’m still hurt. You say you tried to stop him, but when that cold-hearted bastard comes back, do you think I’ll be spared the bite of his blade?”

Her words struck true, and my stomach twisted. I found myself standing at a crossroad, torn between what was expected of me and what I felt was right. I looked back at the door, wondering how much time we would have before my cousin came back. I knew what she said was true, that if she was still here when he returned, she would continue to suffer his cruelty- and only for the sake of his curiosity.

“You truly cooperated with him? You answered all of his questions?” I asked, barely breathing as adrenaline surged through me. I was about to make a very stupid decision.

“Yes.” She said flatly. “I think he was just experimenting on me. He said I was ‘interesting.’”

That did sound like him, and I found myself believing her. I tucked away the thought that I would have to have a serious conversation with him the next time I saw him, but at the moment, there were more pressing matters that required my attention.

Like the fact that her breathing sounded raspy and uneven, and she seemed so weak. It bothered me that Markos would be the best person to bring her to, and that without him, there were woefully few options when it came to healing. I would have to do what I could for her on my own, until I could convince my brother that letting Markos interrogate her was a grave mistake.

I pressed my hand against the metal bracelet on her wrist and flooded my magic through the tiny runes engraved on it, and the magic shattered. She looked at me with confusion as I walked around to her other hand to do the other one. I noticed her wrist was horribly swollen, and very likely broken. My brows furrowed as I frowned. “What are you doing?” She asked, her voice thick with exhaustion, as I broke the second binding.

“I’m done trying,” I said calmly as I walked around to her feet. "I'm helping you." I made quick work of the last two, and was concerned when she didn’t immediately react. “Can you move?”

She stirred slowly, too slowly, her body curling under my coat as she struggled to sit up. She winced and muttered curse words under her breath as she settled into a sitting position, her legs hanging over the side of the table. My coat slipped, and I grabbed it, trying to avoid looking at her naked body as I held it out to her. “You should put this on.”

“That’s going to be a bit of a problem.” She said, swaying slightly. I reached out a hand to steady her, heat creeping into my cheeks as I couldn’t avert my gaze and make sure she didn’t topple over at the same time. “I broke my wrist, and Markos dislocated my shoulder. It’s set, but very sore. I’ll need you to help me.” She’d gone quite docile, and I didn’t like the empty look in her eyes. I hadn't seen that little flicker of fire in too long.

I carefully helped her put her arms into the ornate jacket, cursing how rigid the stitching on the shoulders was. Her breath caught occasionally, but she kept an otherwise neutral expression despite the pain I was sure she was in. Once we’d successfully gotten the coat on her, I began to button it down the front. I spent the time thinking about how I was going to go about getting her from here to my room.

The easiest would be to carry her in my arms, but I was worried that would hurt the wounds on her back. I could carry her on my back, like one would a small child, but I knew that would put strain on her shoulder, and if she lost consciousness, she might fall. Deciding security over comfort, I leaned down to scoop her into my arms.

“I’m going to pick you up,” I said as I slid one arm under her bare legs and the other around her waist. “I’m going to try to avoid pressing against your wounds. It will be easier if you could put an arm around my neck.” She nodded, wincing slightly as she placed her arm with the wounded shoulder over mine, and I lifted her easily. She curled into me as if she were freezing and I was a life-saving fire. She was cold to the touch, which was a little concerning as most living creatures were warm to me, considering fae ran naturally cold. I tightened my grip around her, feeling confident in that moment that this was the right thing to do. My brother would likely lecture me, but I would just have to make him see that this girl wasn’t our enemy. I couldn’t explain it, but with her pressed against my chest, I felt… I pushed the thought from my mind. Now was not the time for childish fantasies. 

The guards were quite shocked when I exited the room, and their attempts at protest were silenced by my command. “Quiet. Stay here. Do not tell anyone but Nathaniel who has taken the girl.” They followed my words instantly, and I felt no remorse as I strode out of that morbid space.

“So arrogant,” Calypso muttered in my arms, and I glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, and her head rested against my chest. If she hadn’t just spoken, I would have presumed she was unconscious. 

“Pardon?” I asked, confused.

“You use command magic so easily…” She spoke softly, no edge to her voice. “Such an arrogant jerk...”

I snorted, indignant. Her words were quiet and slightly slurred. “You’re delirious,” I said as I brushed off her criticism. “Be quiet or I’ll command you, too.” It was an empty threat. I didn’t have the heart to force my will upon her in that moment, but I felt her body tense all the same. Luckily, she either was delirious or she had the good sense to listen to me. Either way, she remained silent for the rest of our journey.

While I was well prepared to face the consequences of my actions, I did not want to be stopped before I had the chance to get Calypso to the safety of my room, where I would be able to provide her with the limited healing I had developed over years of my father’s physical abuse. Before we were separated, Nathaniel and I had patched each other up more times than I cared to remember. At least something good would come from that, if I could use it to help ease her suffering.

By the time we reached the top of the stairs, I was relieved to see her breathing a little easier. I stuck to corridors I knew were already moved out, slipping into shadow when I heard approaching footsteps. I had snuck around this castle many times, and I knew its layout like the back of my hand. Thankfully, everyone was busy with the move, and we were able to go unnoticed.

I let out a heavy sigh of relief as my bedroom door closed behind me, and Calypso chuckled weakly. “You’re pretty good at that.” She mused, and I once again looked at her with confusion as I laid her down on my bed. 

“Good at what?” I asked as I began unbuttoning my coat. I would have to see her injuries to treat them. 

“Sneaking around. Here I thought you were some goodie two-shoes ~” She teased me,  but she was obviously in a bad way. I gave her a stern look as I finished my task, leaving it closed for her modesty. 

“Stop messing around. I’m going to take a look at your back. Can you take the jacket off, or do you need my help?” She answered me by shrugging her shoulders slightly, letting the coat fall open before it slid down around her waist. I closed my eyes and ran my hand down my face, heat again blooming in my cheeks. “Lay down, I’m going to go get some supplies.”

“You’re cute when you blush~” She cooed as I turned away from her, which made my predicament that much worse. I could feel the flush of my cheeks spreading to my ears as I forcefully pulled upon the drawer where I kept my medical supplies. I couldn’t believe she would be so forward, and my embarrassment was palpable.

“Well, most ladies wouldn’t just…” I made a motion with my hand, at a loss for words.

“Flash you?” She offered with a giggle. 

“Yes.” I agreed, exasperated. She sounded drunk, and I wondered if that meant she was getting better or worse. 

“Well, Markos didn’t care, so I thought it was a fae thing.” She said airily. I heard her shifting around, and when I looked, she had settled down on her stomach. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. I’m taken~” She had her eyes closed and her head resting on one of my plush pillows. I was struck by the look on her face, how pretty it made her look. Whoever she was thinking about really made her happy, and I felt a pang of pain mix into the beat of my heart. I knew that pleasant fantasy earlier had been nothing but a cruel tempt of fate.

“His name is Touya. He’s one of my guards, so we’re not supposed to be together.” She continued without being prompted, and I settled onto the bed beside her. I gingerly examined the wounds on her back, finding them already mostly healed. Had Markos done that before he left? “He’s kind and funny, but a bit of an airhead– if I’m being honest. I love that about him, though. He asked me to marry him when we were kids, right after I met him. He was such a dork–” She cut off abruptly as she began violently coughing, which turned into wretching, and I scrambled to grab a waste bin for her.

I made it just in time, holding her hair back as she vomited into the metallic bucket. She shuddered violently, and my brows knitted with concern. I wondered if this had to do with the strange discoloration on her back. She let out a groan as she fell back onto the bed, her peaceful expression now twisted with pain. 

“Do you know what’s causing that?” Being another species, I was woefully unknowledgeable about her anatomy or what ailments she might be facing. Her bare skin was covered in sweat again, as if she had a fever, but when I touched the back of my hand to her forehead, it was still ice cold.

“My body is reacting badly to that bastard’s energy.” She spoke with much effort, her eyes screwed shut against the pain. “He flooded my cells with it and it’s… ah, acting a bit like a poison, I think.”

I placed my hand upon her back to see if I could do something about it, and a soft tingling feeling sparked against my palm where I touched her skin. She sighed softly with relief, her body relaxing. It felt strange, like my energy was being pulled into her body with no input from me. I stared, transfixed, as I watched tiny blue sparks shimmer around my hand and disappear into her back. I could feel it moving into her, and at the same time, I felt a surge of warmth run up my arm. I jerked my hand away in surprise, but the warmth continued to travel through my lines of magic until it settled somewhere in my chest. My heart thundered as adrenaline surged through me and I stood up, looking down at Calypso as the discoloration on her back began to fade away.

“What was that?” I practically demanded the answer from her, fear that I had once again made a stupid, naive mistake in trusting her stirring panic in the back of my mind and turning my tone angry, but she didn’t respond. I worried for a moment that she might have passed, but then I saw the slight rise and fall of her breathing, and I relaxed. I gripped my shirt in front of my chest as I tried to figure out what had just happened. I could still feel it, a steady pulse of warmth that matched the beat of my heart. It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it felt concerningly good. I suppose it spoke to my morbid upbringing that I was immediately suspicious of it. Good things didn’t happen to me; I had proven time and time again that I didn’t deserve them. This was no different, I was sure. I stared at Calypso’s unconscious form warily. If this was a trick, if this led to more pain and suffering for my family, I would never forgive myself, and this strange girl with fire in her eyes would not be spared again.

Chapter Text

Nathanial POV

I watched Achaicus’s hair swish behind him, tied up in a high ponytail with shimmering silver strands that sparkled in the late afternoon light, as he closed the door behind him with a resounding ‘click.’ Silence stretched out in the moments afterwards as I waited to see if he would change his mind and return to continue to pester me with his timid uncertainty, but the polished oak doors remained closed. I let out a sigh as I returned my focus to the seemingly insurmountable stack of paperwork in front of me. This strange occurrence couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time, and for that, the girl had earned my ire. We were in the middle of moving an entire castle's worth of supplies, furniture, documents, and people. On top of that, we were all still licking our wounds from the recently ended war with the Vanir. Eric demanded much of my time and attention, as did a myriad of other official affairs, and I was stretched dangerously thin. Someone might argue that this made me overreact slightly to the attitude the strange girl had given me when I had been summoned to determine what to do with her. That someone, of course, being my brother Achaicus, who questioned my decision more times than I could count before the sun had peaked its arch through the sky, and I banned him from discussing it further.

I love my brother, but he was the absolute worst person this could have happened to. Any other fae would have handled this in a very calculated, logical fashion, but my brother had an unfortunate habit of letting his emotions get the better of him. Put a sad, helpless thing in front of him, and the man becomes a bleeding heart saint. For all the insufferable lectures he gave me about my own ‘problematic’ tendencies regarding my pets, he was just as bad. The only difference was that he was too timid to openly shun the rules. He’d always been desperate for our Father’s approval, so it made sense that he would hide his transgressions, but he still made them. Unfortunately, his need to care for and be cared for by the creatures that pique his fancy often blinded him to problematic behaviors that put him and other people at risk. Molly had gotten away with poisoning us for far too long, and eventually she outright betrayed us. Her death had affected him on a staggeringly deep level, and I could tell he was still reeling from her loss and his direct involvement in it. I didn’t want him to latch onto this girl as a surrogate for his late pet, but judging from his actions since the meeting this morning, I feared it might already be too late.

The door to my office opened abruptly and without a knock, and I expected to see Achaicus returning after losing his nerve halfway to the dungeons. Instead, I was met with the visage of my extremely irate cousin standing in the doorframe. I was a bit confused, as it seemed like not enough time had passed for my brother to have made it to the dungeons and Markos to have made it here, but my thoughts were interrupted before I could voice them.

“Well, I can confidently say we do not have a strategic genius on our hands.” He said as he closed the door behind him. He pulled off his blood-stained latex gloves as he approached and sat down in the same chair Achaicus had been occupying a few minutes ago. He tossed the gloves carelessly onto my desk, splattering my half-finished, official document with crimson liquid.

“Markos-“ I began, my voice laced with irritation, but he continued over me as if he hadn’t heard me speak.

“I gave her a chance to tell me who she was early on, before I got into things. She told me she was some servant girl. If she tries to retaliate against me, just know that she chose to lie.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, already regretting my offer to deal with this man.

“Can you just tell me what happened?” Markos had an annoying habit of grandstanding and putting about instead of just getting to the point. He relished having more knowledge than the people around him and enjoyed dangling it in front of our noses like a carrot in front of a horse. “I don’t have time for whatever this is.” I made a vague hand motion in his direction. 

“Well, our little angel isn’t half human; she’s half demon. She has two dragon spirits locked away in her arms. Also, she changed her story halfway through: she’s not some poor servant girl, she’s the heir to the crown of Heofon.”

I looked up from my desk, where I had been unsuccessfully attempting to clean the blood off the soiled document in hopes of salvaging it- I really didn’t want to have to start over on it- and stared at him. That was probably the most direct, unadulterated information Markos had ever given me at one time, and I hadn’t been expecting it. In all honesty, I had only been half listening, figuring he would continue to toy with me, so my brain was struggling to wrap around the bits I had picked up.

“What?” The question sounded dumb in my own ears, and Markos leveled me with a critical look.

“Which part did you struggle to understand?” He mused with a smug smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, giving him an air of superiority that left a bad taste in my mouth. 

“The part where you were actually doing as you’re told for once,” I said with perhaps more bite than I intended.

Markos smiled with amusement as he rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and crossed his legs casually. The bastard looked as if he’d gotten exactly what he wanted out of me. “I do get a wild hair every now and then.” He spoke in a slight lilt, his voice light and airy. “Now I really don’t like repeating myself, so do try and pay attention this time.” He spoke as if he were chastising a child, and I could feel a muscle in my jaw start to twitch with annoyance. “She’s not half human, but half demon. A fire demon, specifically. The great beasts she has in her arms are two dragon spirits. One of them embodies magic similar to the Vanir; it billowed like black smoke out of her arm when the beast tried to take control of her and the syphon was activated. The second is apparently a dragon of light, which was given to her by her mother as a kind of counterbalance to the dark magic of the other one. Which leads me to my last point.” 

His expression went from playful amusement back to serious and irritated. “She told me previously that she was a servant girl, though her nightgown was of very high quality. When I questioned this, she said she served a lord in the castle, and that he’d given it to her as a gift. When pushed about how a servant girl came about possessing two powerful spirits, she cracked and told me she is actually the heir to the throne of Heofon. Her mother is the queen, which is the highest seat in their ruling class. They’re a matriarchy, like the Valkyrie, though it’s unknown if they share any actual relation.”

I placed my elbows on the desk and rested my head in my hands, rubbing my face as I absorbed the information. “How hard did you ‘push’ her for this information?” I asked, my voice muffled as I didn’t look up.

There was a slight hesitation. “Harder than I’m sure her mother would appreciate.”

I groaned. We had just finished one war, I didn’t need us charging headlong into another over a miscommunication and Markos’s overzealous need to cut things open. “Did you find out where Heofon is located?”

“She insists that it’s on a separate dimensional plane, though she says travel between the realms is possible. They send out envoys from time to time in order to gather updated technology and gather new medicines for their human population. It seems difficult, though. They have lived under a solid energy dome for millennia, since ‘before the separation,’ which is when ‘non-humans’ were segregated from this realm to the one she comes from. They are completely isolated from the rest of the non-human realm as no one can physically pass through the barrier from either side.”

I could feel the headache already. This was going to generate so much paperwork. “Did you leave Achaicus with her?” I asked suddenly, realizing that might not be the best idea given the situation.

Markos arched a curious brow. “I haven’t seen him. I came to you as soon as I found out she was a person of import.” He cocked his head to the side, his curly hair falling prettily around his face, making him look a lot more innocent than he should. “Was he on his way to put his foot down and stop my interrogation?” His voice was laced with amusement.

“Yes,” I said, my own voice was thick with annoyance as I stood up. “Go prepare one of our guest chambers for her. She will be detained until I can determine that she and her family pose no threat to us, but given her status, a holding cell in the dungeon is no longer acceptable.”

“She’ll need to be moved to the infirmary first, so that I can properly tend her wounds.” He said casually as he stood to join me, and we walked out of the room together. 

“Fine,” I said bluntly. “I still want a room prepared for her. Also, prepare a report about her power and give it to Eric so that he can start working on a better solution to sealing those spirits.”

Markos bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement before he turned down a different corridor, and I continued towards the dungeons. “I trust you’ll let Achaicus know that her suffering wasn’t my fault~” Markos said lightly over his shoulder before he rounded a corner and disappeared from sight. I rolled my eyes as I picked up my pace. I missed the days when ‘everyone’s problems’ was not my responsibility. 

———

I arrived to an empty cell and guards that were all too eager to tell me that my brother had carried the prisoner out in his arms, commanding them to remain at their post and to only tell me what had transpired. I held back a sigh of frustration and instructed them to return to their normal duties as we would be moving Calypso to a room upstairs. After dismissing them, I took a moment to contemplate my choices in life that had led me to this moment. Was I finally receiving karma for defying my brother’s warnings and lectures for all those years? My headache was in full swing and was threatening to turn into a migraine as I turned and started up the stairs again. There was also an occasional sharp spike of pain in my chest that I was too busy to acknowledge. It would be just my luck that I survived dying in the war only for the stress of this thing to kill me.

I didn’t have to guess where he’d taken her; my brother was nothing if not predictable. When under pressure, he inevitably retreated to his room, squirreling away whatever brought him comfort at the time. Most recently, that had been wine, but there was a time it had been Molly. Now I would have bet money on it that he’d taken one look at the undoubtedly poor condition of the girl and swooped her away to his safe place. 

When I reached the door, I didn’t immediately barge in, though I was fully capable of doing so even with the barrier spell he had up. I placed one hand on my hip and knocked firmly with the other. I was only waiting a few seconds before the door opened, and I was met with the mirror image of my twin brother. He looked a bit frantic, but was obviously trying to hide it, and I arched a brow expectantly.

“Nathaniel, I-”

“I know she’s in there, Achaicus,” I said with a stern tone, looking at him pointedly. “Let me in, I need to see how she’s faring.”

At this, I stepped inside, using my arm to gently move my brother aside. He yielded to me, his hands wringing in front of him nervously as I stopped in the middle of his lavishly furnished living area. I had been expecting to see the girl lying on the couch, and was surprised to find that he had put her in his bed. 

“She’s unconscious,” Achaicus spoke from behind me as he closed the door, his anxiety clear in his voice. “I think Markos healed her major physical wounds before he left, but he had pushed his energy inside of her somehow and it was poisoning her.”

Concerned, I quickly made my way to the bed. Calypso was lying on her stomach, her back bare and her lower half covered by the coat Achaicus had been wearing when he’d left my office earlier. My heart sank when I saw the extent of the wounds on her back. They were healed enough to not be a threat to her life, but they were long and deep. I could see where he had cut the skin and muscle back to undoubtedly try to examine her wings, and I cursed Markos’s morbid curiosity. Sometimes my cousin’s apathy was a bit disturbing, but knowing what he went through with his wife and baby not even a month ago made the reasoning for it obvious enough.

“She needs to go to the infirmary so that Markos can finish healing her,” I said as I reached towards her, intending to prepare her for the move. I was surprised when Achaicus pushed himself in front of me, knocking my hand out of the way in the process. 

“Don’t touch her.” He sounded more scared than possessive, and I looked at him more closely. He was definitely still nervous, despite not seeming surprised that I’d found him so quickly and hadn’t immediately started scolding him. My gaze hardened as I looked at him sternly.

“What’s wrong?” I asked bluntly, my own anxiety stirring somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach. I ignored it as I always did, pushing it down deeper and covering it with irritation. 

“I… I’m not sure.” He began slowly, turning to look at her as he continued. “She was acting feverish, but her skin was ice cold and she had this strange discoloration on her back. I touched it and… It’s like her body pulled my energy from me.”

That was concerning. The idea of a power sucking vampire posed an interesting dilemma, and I did not need that added to an already complicated, possibly multi-dimensional scandal. I had expected that to be the end of it, and was surprised when he spoke again.

“There was also…” He trailed off, obviously struggling to find the words to describe what he wanted to say. “... a rush of warmth, up my arm. Like some of her power was transferred to me as well.” He placed his hand over his chest, his brows knitted in worried concentration. “I can still feel it. Right now it’s settled in my chest, but earlier, when I was pacing, it was kind of… traveling? That’s not… Entirely accurate. It moved with my power in response to my agitation. Now that I’m a bit calmer, it’s settled back here.” He patted the center of his chest softly. 

“Are you in pain? Has it caused any change in your thoughts or feelings towards her?” I asked quickly, leaning in to more closely examine my brother. He looked perfectly fine, except he shrank away slightly as if he thought I might scold him. In all honesty, I should have been lecturing his ear off for being so careless with his safety once again, but my concern for him won out. I could yell at him once I knew he was okay.

“No.” He shook his head, and his hair swished behind his back. “Actually, it feels surprisingly pleasant. I don’t feel any differently towards her than I did before, either. In fact, I’m more suspicious of her than anything.” His expression tightened, his lips pressing into a hard line. “I couldn’t leave her down there.” It was his attempt at an apology for doing the thing I had told him not to, and the tension eased from my shoulders.

I let out a soft breath. For all the airs he put on, he really was predictably kind-hearted. “I know,” I spoke evenly. “We will discuss that later. Right now, we need to make sure that both of you are alright. Your little damsel in distress turns out to be a princess. Markos is preparing a room for her as we speak, though until we know what happened with the power exchange, I think it will be best if we don’t move her.”

Achaicus’s eyes widened with surprise, and he turned to look down at her again. His cheeks suddenly flooded red, and he covered his eyes with his hand as if recalling something embarrassing. “Are you certain that she is highborn?”

“Markos seems to believe her.” I cocked my head to the side, knowing there was something more my brother wasn’t telling me. “What makes you doubt it?”

“She’s just so… vulgar.” He said, finally, his hand rubbing his face before falling back at his side. “And she exposed her chest to me without hesitation.” Ah, there it was. I shook my head and turned towards the door.

“Who knows what their customs are like in Heofon, and she’s a half-demon, so maybe there’s some innate corruption there as well that causes them to act hedonistically, like the Vanir.” I offered an attempt at explanation. I opened the door before he could respond and flagged down a passing servant. “Find Markos Bellerose and tell him to come to this room as quickly as possible, and that he should bring his medical supplies with him.” The young fae servant, a girl with her hair neatly braided and coiled into a bun on top of her head, bowed before quickly scurrying off to fulfill her order. The magic of the command would guide her to his location, and I closed the door to return my attention to my brother.

He was standing a bit farther from the bed now, looking a complicated mix of confused, angry, and anxious. It almost looked as if he was worried about catching something by being in close proximity to her. “What do you mean she’s a demon?” He asked loudly, his voice high with stress. I motioned to a chair in the sitting room before lowering myself onto the couch across from it. 

“Half demon. Come, sit down, and I’ll fill you in on what Markos told me…”

Chapter Text

Calypso POV

I lay in Achaicus's bed, coherent thought beyond my ability as I stared out at him through hooded eyes. I needed to heal myself, but my energy reserves were dangerously low, and Markos's energy was burning me from the inside out. I felt the soft touch of the fae upon the bare skin of my back, and I shivered. My pain and exhaustion overwhelmed me as I felt a surge of ice in my veins, but I was blessed as I slipped into unconsciousness and was spared the brunt of whatever torture he was about to perform on me. Unfortunately, my torment did not end there. When my eyes opened in my dream, I realized they were not my own, but my father's. It was a nightmare I had had countless times before, and dread knotted in my stomach as the events unfolded before me once again.

———

The night of my murder trial, the sky of Heofon was choked with the smoky essence of rage and hatred. It burned my senses as I was dragged through the streets, flanked by two guards whose names were not known to me. They held no loyalty to me or the crown; they were dogs belonging to Salmar- my soon-to-be judge, jury, and executioner. Angry mobs crowded in on me and my escorts on both sides, hurtling insults along with rotted fruits and vegetables. It was slow going. I had at least one broken bone, and the bottoms of my feet had been flayed, yet I was expected to make the journey with minimal support. When I inevitably stumbled, no attempts were made to catch me and I would end up face-first in the dirt. My hands were bound behind my back, and I knew this was a purposeful cruelty devised by Salmar to further humiliate me. It wasn’t enough to force a false confession out of me in front of my subjects. No, my ruin needed to be brutal and absolute. I was a warning to every other demon that might hope to crawl out from the crushing heel of oppression they were trapped under. I was what happened when lesser beings dared to fly too close to the sun– proof that even those forged of fire could still be burned.

I had been paraded from the castle gates at the center of the city through the main streets to the lower levels and out into the clear lands that surrounded the city walls, a distance that totaled a little over a mile. A stage had been built for the express purpose of my public ‘trial,’ so that all who wished to attend could do so. It seemed like most of the city’s populace had shown up, which wasn't at all surprising. It wasn’t every day one could watch a king admit to cold-blooded murder, and most of these angel bastards had been waiting decades for this moment they’d claim was ‘inevitable.’

We finally made it through the yowling crowds, their shouting and vitriol fading as my eyes settled upon my family. Everything else ceased to exist as I looked upon my wife, Eumelia, standing with our three children upon a raised platform to the right of the trial stage. She was tall and well-proportioned, a natural beauty, with light skin that glowed softly in the darkness of night. She had golden blonde hair that fell down her back in cascading waves that stopped just above her hips. Her eyes were the color of the sky on a clear summer’s day, and the pain I saw clouding them at that moment was worse than any torture I had endured over the days past. She wore a dress of white and gold, the colors of the royal family, and her hair was beset with gold-encrusted flowers that trailed from a white gold crown. She was beautiful, the picture of poise and elegance: stark contrast to the torn and dirty rags they had dressed me in for this charade. Knowing Salmar, it was done on purpose. Some kind of symbolic bullshit to show the innate differences in our species. The pompous bastard liked that kind of thing.

Our children were similarly dressed and presented beside her. Our eldest, only nine years of age, stood to her left. Nikias was tall for his age, already at Eumi’s shoulder. His hair was long, straight, and black like mine. When left down, it fell to his shoulders in a tangled mess, but for today’s event, it was tamed and tied up in a neat ponytail. His skin was tan; he was the only one of the three that had inherited my skin tone, and his eyes were a dark red- almost black. He was doing a good job of keeping a neutral expression, breathing slowly through his nose to help control his emotions like I’d taught him. I hoped he knew I was proud of him.

Clinging desperately to his hands and not doing nearly as well at controlling their reactions were our two youngest: five-year-old twins Calypso, the elder, and her younger brother, Aetos. They looked remarkably similar, despite being different genders. They both had pale skin like their mother, but they got their red eyes and black hair from me. The only way to really tell them apart was their hairstyles. Calypso’s hair was straight and fell in a curtain to just beneath her ears, while Aetos had gotten his mother’s wavy hair texture. It was clear someone had tried, and failed, to tame the short, chaotic nest of curls that sat atop his head, and I felt warmth flood my chest.

Before I had come here, I had been a heartless bastard. Unlike most that were alive within the dome today, I was not born here. I had been born beyond, to a soulless woman who cast me into a river just after I was born. I was found and saved by a whore who was owned by the leader of a nearby gang. She took me in and raised my ungrateful ass. Family meant nothing to me; the only one I cared about and could rely on was myself. Life in the gang was hard and bloody. Each day was a struggle to survive, and for most of my younger years, I barely scraped by. If someone had told me that one day I would willingly submit to the will of an angel bastard for the sake of protecting my family from harm, I would have laughed in their face as I dragged my blade across their throat. Now, looking at the four of them standing on that platform as a stark reminder of everything I had to lose, there was no doubt in my mind that this was what I wanted to do. I would give up everything for them.

As we reached the stage, both of my arms were grabbed by the guards escorting me as they dragged me up the wooden steps. It seemed now that we were down to the main event, watching my pitiful struggling wasn’t entertaining enough. One of the guards drew a dagger from his belt and sliced through the ropes on my wrists before I was forced down into the wooden chair in the center of the stage and bound to it. A spotlight sprang to life from somewhere above me, blinding me to all beyond the edge of the wood beneath my feet. I heard footsteps approaching me from behind, and I tensed. I knew that sound intimately, and I waited for Salmar to appear from around my peripheral.

However, instead of the man who had set this nightmare in motion, a woman appeared before me. She was tall, with honey brown hair and hooded eyes that gave her a subdued look. Her lips were plump and well-shaped. Her beauty would be undeniable if it weren’t for the ugly black bruising she had around her neck. She looked at me with a flat, unemotional expression that sent a chill down my spine. She wasn’t supposed to be here.

Her expression didn’t change, but there was a strange sense of a smile about her face as her head tilted slightly to the side, like a curious bird of prey deciding if what it was looking at might make a good meal. “You are a ghost.” She said in a soft, lilting voice. “You are not the one I am looking for.” 

Her head turned sharply, her brown eyes locking onto something behind me, looking at my family-

The perspective of my dream shifted abruptly from my father’s to mine, and I stumbled back, falling off the wooden platform I had been standing on. I tumbled through the darkness until I landed in a haphazard pile on a cold wooden floor. I groaned as I pushed myself up, my body suddenly much bigger. I was an adult again. I looked around, pushing my hair out of my face as I tried to get my bearings. I was in a decrepit cabin, blood and shattered furniture speaking to a horrific struggle that must have taken place here. I heard a noise behind me and I surged to my feet, whipping around to face what had made it. The living doll of a woman stood a few feet away from me, her expression as stoic as it had been when she first appeared. She had blood matted into her hair, and the neckline of her shirt was stained with it. My eyes were drawn to the bruising on her neck. It looked like she’d been strangled.

“It’s rude to stare.” The woman quipped, her tone steady despite the implication of her words. My gaze snapped up to meet hers. I took a step back, a sense of foreboding settling over me. There was a darkness around her that put me on edge.

“Who are you?” I asked as I tried to gauge what my escape options were. There was only one door out of here, and she was standing directly in my path to it. 

“My name is Molly.” She replied in what I could only describe as a polite manner, despite her menacing presence. “You are in the wrong place. I want you to leave.”

I recognized her name from some of the negative thoughts Achaicus had hurled at me before he realized I could read his mind. I looked briefly at the door behind her before refocusing on her creepy, emotionless face. “Well, you’re kind of blocking the door, so I’ll just…” I began walking in a slow arc around her, keeping the same distance between us as I tried to go around to reach the exit. 

There was a strange buzzing in the air before my surroundings distorted, reality breaking into bits and pieces before suddenly rearranging, and I found myself back where I’d started. “No.” She said flatly. “Not here. Above.”

Of course, this was a dream. She must have been talking about the waking world. “Do you mean in the castle? Achaicus’s room? Or just the human realm in general?”

“Yes.” She replied sedately. “You do not belong here and you are interfering. Leave.”

My lips pursed together and I narrowed my eyes. “Interfering with what?” I asked, suspicious. I had a feeling this woman was behind the pain Achaicus was suffering.

“My revenge. That man you’ve come to rescue strangled me to death right here in this cabin. I committed my life to him, did everything I could to help him achieve his goals, and when he got bored with me, he killed me. He is a fae, and the fae are cruel; he does not deserve your sympathy. Leave and let me see to it that he gets what he deserves.”

She spoke with no emotion, but malice curled around her like the tendrils of a strangling vine. I stood a little straighter. She was taller than me by a couple of inches, but I tried to make myself look intimidating. “And if I refuse?”

The room distorted again, scratching dissonance, patches of black abyss, and white nothingness splayed across my vision for a split second before it suddenly stopped. She had gone from a couple of feet away from me to an inch from my face in the blink of an eye and I stumbled back in fright. Whatever she was now, she was in control of my dream, and I had a feeling that was bad news for me.

“I will not ask again.” She continued to speak as if she were discussing the weather, and it was seriously disturbing. Her head cocked again, and her eyes glowed with an unnatural light. I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “Let me give you a taste of what awaits you if you choose to stay.”

There was another second, another horrific, reality-breaking distortion, and the floor fell out from beneath me as I was thrown into the worst nightmare I had ever had.

Chapter Text

Calypso POV

I woke up screaming as the phantom of agony fled my body. I sat bolt upright in bed, my breath coming in ragged gasps as my senses struggled to catch up with what I was experiencing. All I could see was the sterile white of hospital linens, although my attention was quickly drawn to a flurry of movement off to my side, followed by a loud, clattering noise. I flinched, expecting to see Molly staring at me with her unwavering expression, but instead I was met with the sight of legs flailing awkwardly in the air and the bottom of an upturned chair. It was strange enough to knock me out of my panic, and I watched as a human man struggled to right himself. He was very tall, taller even than the fae males I’d encountered so far. He had messy brown hair and slate grey eyes that were lined with a faint trace of red, as if he’d had trouble sleeping. He was blushing quite heavily, and embarrassment radiated from him in waves as he slowly made his way back to his feet and put his chair back in the upright position. 

“Sorry, sorry, you scared the crap out of me and I kind of just… tipped over.” He spoke awkwardly as he avoided looking at my face. His eyes traveled absent-mindedly over my body, and I instinctively pulled my sheets up over my chest. It was unnecessary; I was fully dressed in a soft, white, long-sleeved shirt and a matching pair of equally comfortable pants. Still, after what had happened with Markos, I was wary of this stranger.

“Oh, no! I wasn’t looking- it’s just- you screamed, so I was checking to see if you were hurt.” He overexplained, his hands moving while he talked. He was genuine in his feelings, and while there was no mental barrier to stop me from reading his thoughts, there was a strange energy about them that created a distortion and made it impossible for me to understand them. There was a presence I sensed hidden within that white noise that made me wary of probing deeper.

“I had a nightmare,” I said simply, not wanting to offer more information without knowing what my situation was. He nodded, accepting that explanation without difficulty. 

“As a fellow member of the ‘tortured by Markos’ club, I get it.” He said way more casually than one would expect, sitting back in his seat. I wondered what kind of place this was that ‘tortured by Markos’ seemed to be a common occurrence. “It’s uh, his go-to solution for things, I think.” 

I looked him over, not sure what to make of this strange man. He wore an official-looking uniform, which made me believe he was some kind of guard, but he almost seemed uncomfortable in his own skin. “Who are you?” I asked bluntly, and he gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a friendly smile.

“My name is Charles, it’s nice to meet you… Your Highness?” The words felt like a slap in the face, and I closed my eyes briefly as I tried to control my reaction. He had obviously been told the information I’d given Markos under the duress of torture, and he seemed to be trying to avoid stepping on my toes.

“Please, call me Calypso,” I said with a smile that must have been as tense as his because he didn’t seem to relax at all. His leg jostled as he glanced at the door, and I took the moment to look around me.

I was in a private room of what I assumed was the infirmary. The walls were clean and sterile and the counters were lined with little jars filled with various medical supplies. There were no windows, but an overhead light flooded the room with brightness. My skin crawled as I remembered that Markos had introduced himself as a doctor, and I wondered if he was here. 

“So, Calypso- Do I need to call you ‘Lady Calypso’?” He cut himself off mid-sentence to ask the question, and I found myself stifling a laugh. This man was so painfully awkward it was endearing, and I found myself relaxing. 

“No, just Calypso is fine,” I said a bit more gently. “I don’t particularly want to be in my position, so outside of official affairs I’d like to be referred to by my name alone.”

“Why-” He began to ask me something but was interrupted as the door to the room abruptly opened without so much as a knock to warn us. Markos stepped in as smoothly as water flowing downhill, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I was out of bed and across the room in the blink of an eye, pressing my back hard into the corner as I stood defensively. My energy swirled around me in angry, red, flickering flames that caused my hair to shift around my face from the displaced air. There were no booby trap runes here, and my power flowed through me unabated and as expected. I smiled, feeling in control for the first time since I’d met this bastard.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Markos who reacted to me, but Charles. He stood and positioned himself between us, his energy flaring around him in a remarkably similar fashion to mine. His was pure red, and those faint lines around his eyes had bled into jagged, geometric runes that looked a bit like war paint. I faltered, caught off guard and not prepared to fight this charmingly awkward human.

“Calm down, I don’t want to fight you,” Charles said in an impressively cool voice. I could feel the other presence in him more clearly now. It hovered about him like a double image, a shadow behind his every move. 

Markos, for his part, looked quite bored where he stood in the doorway. He sighed with irritation and made a show of absently examining his nails. “Honestly, Princess, no need for such dramatics.” He used the honorific, but it was clear he intended it as an insult and I narrowed my eyes.

“You said you were tortured by him, too.” I focused my attention on Charles, hoping to bring him around to my side. “How can you stand there, defending him?”

Charles made a strange face, as if he were debating the answer to that himself. “Well, one: it’s my job, and two: he’s kind of married to my sister and she’ll be very mad if I let anything happen to him.”

Markos snorted a laugh, casually crossing his arms over his chest. “There would be no ‘letting anything happen to me.’ As flattered as I am, Charles, I don’t need your protection.” He looked over towards me, his expression set in neutral politeness, but his lilac eyes shone with loathing. I wasn’t quite sure what I had done to him to earn such a look, but I made sure the sentiments were shot right back at him.

“I’d be more than happy to test that out~” I cooed at him, allowing my energy to flare a bit stronger, though I made no move to step out of my corner. 

He laughed, blatantly laughed, at me, his lips pulling into a feral grin. “Perhaps someday, but for now I need you to sit down and behave.”

His command crashed against my mental barrier, and a chill ran down my spine, but it did not break through. I was more prepared this time, and, while powerful, his was nowhere near as strong as Achaicus's and Nathaniel's had been. “Well, now I see why you have to torture people,” I said dully as I made no move to do what he’d said. “Not strong enough to simply command the knowledge? You certainly seem arrogant enough to try, so I can only assume it’s a skill issue that’s led to some embarrassing situations.” I let my malice seep into my voice, and there was a slight shift of realization in his eyes, but it came a moment too late.

A bolt of red energy shot at me and, if I hadn’t already been preparing to shield myself against an attack from Markos, it would have hit me square in the chest. As it was, a shield of shimmering gold shot up between us and the two canceled each other out in a burst of iridescent shards. I shifted my attention to Charles and felt instant regret churn in my stomach. He was breathing shallowly, and his eyes were darkened with that same malice I had tried to instill in Markos. I swallowed thickly and quickly changed gears, holding up my hands and allowing my energy to fade slightly.

“Charles, calm down. I don’t want to fight you, either.” I spoke in a soothing tone, mimicking his previous sentiment as I weaved my words with relaxation. I watched with a strong sense of relief as his anger drained from him and his shoulders slumped forward. He looked very confused. 

“I didn’t…” He trailed off, examining his hands as a troubled expression came over him, and I felt very guilty. In my eagerness to egg Markos into a fight, I’d forgotten that Charles was in the room and likely more susceptible to suggestion than the fae. After all, Markos had a mental shield and Charles didn’t. 

“I’m sorry, that was me,” I said in sincere apology, my hands still held up in surrender. “I was… trying to make Markos mad…” I admitted, hating the taste of crow in my mouth. “That was reckless, I’m sorry.”

Charles looked at me, his confusion amplifying. “Yeah, I mean, I got that. I just don’t understand why what you said to him pissed me off.” 

Markos looked as if he was struggling with something, but his voice remained calm and steady when he finally spoke. “She used magic to manipulate your emotions.” He explained bluntly, and my cheeks heated, embarrassed that he had enough awareness to have seen my misstep. He must have felt my influence, but my spoken word had been too weak to get through his shielding. He might not have been as strong as the twins, but he wasn’t a pushover. It was probably a good thing my goading attempt had failed. “I’ll let you know right now that if you try that again, you’ll lose your royal prisoner privileges.” He smiled so widely his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Not that I would mind, we’d get to pick up where we left off, and I have so many more questions to ask you.”

I glared at him but did not say aloud the words I was flinging at him in my mind. Charles’s energy died down as mine did, and for the moment it seemed we had come to a ceasefire. 

“Does your kind not torture members of foreign courts?” I asked as I moved to the bed and sat upon it as if it had been my idea. Charles continued to look uncomfortable, but moved his chair a little bit closer to me before sitting down in it. He seemed more on edge now, and I assumed that I’d gone up on his threat meter.

“Only the annoying ones,” Markos replied coolly as he walked further into the room and shut the door behind him. He moved with ethereal grace, and I loathed how such a monstrous person could be so beautiful. His curls were angelic, and his face was annoyingly attractive. Even the soft purple of his eyes was pretty enough to tempt staring, and were all fae built like Greek statues?

“Funnily enough, if you had mentioned your royal status earlier, you could have avoided that whole situation.”

There were many things I wanted to say in response to him, but I held my tongue. I did not want to get sent back down to the dungeon, and I wasn’t really sure what I had done to end up here, so I figured it was best not to push my luck. He wouldn’t be the first asshole I acted nice around.

He picked up a clipboard from the base of my bed and flipped through the pages. “Glad to see you’ve got some sense about you.” He said in that same grating, condescending tone. This time, I buried my anger and smiled politely at him. He didn’t comment on that and instead shifted to asking about my health. “How is your wrist feeling? Any pain in your back?”

I was caught off guard by his abrupt switch from antagonistic jerk to medical professional, and my smile faltered as I looked down at my right hand. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but what Molly had subjected me to in my dream had stretched on for so long I had completely forgotten about the injuries I’d been left with in the real world. An internal examination of it revealed it had been healed, quite nicely at that. I flexed it, noting the tendons and ligaments were still a bit sore. I could have done a better job, but it was frustratingly impressive. 

My back had no pain at all, which was more surprising. I moved my shoulders around to test it and found no fault in the musculature, though as my power moved through the area, I could sense some scarring, which was annoying. I wanted to test my wings, but the shirt I was wearing did not accommodate them, and I was not about to get naked again.

“Everything feels fine,” I said as casually as possible, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was actually impressed with his skills. “I can tell I have scarring on my back, and my wrist still hurts,” I complained, and he blew a soft breath through his nose, writing more things down on the clipboard. 

“The pain in your wrist should go away in a day or two, and the scarring will fade with time if you eat our fruits.” He set the clipboard down and pulled out a pair of latex gloves from one of the jars on the counter. “Now, if you would kindly remove your shirt-”

“Aaaand that’s my cue to go wait outside.” Charles quipped as he hastily stood up. I felt a surge of panic and instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm. Something broke in me when he flinched, hating the small pulse of fear that emanated from it. I released him, but he didn’t continue to move away from me, his ashen grey eyes looking at me with concern.

“Please don’t leave me alone with him,” I said quietly, and the man’s expression melted down to uncomfortable sympathy. 

“... Okay.” He relented, though he still looked incredibly uneasy at the idea of staying behind. “I’ll just close my eyes, or would you rather- I could turn around and face the wall-”

“I’m not taking my shirt off,” I said firmly, looking back at Markos with a fierce look of determination on my face. “I’m fine. Everything is healed, and I don’t have any pain anywhere except my wrist. If you have any respect for my title, understand that you do not have my consent to touch me.”

An awkward silence stretched out between the three of us. Markos had that look of loathing in his eyes again, although his face remained schooled in stoic neutrality, while Charles looked like he wished to be just about anywhere else. After a moment, the doctor closed his eyes and looked as if he might be asking a higher power for patience, which he was seemingly granted as he pulled his gloves off. 

“Alright, if you insist. If the skin on your back starts sloughing off again, you’re on your own.” He turned and walked back towards the door. “I’m going to go notify Nathaniel that you’re awake. Your transport to your official quarters will be arranged for later in the day. I don’t need you taking up a bed if you refuse to let me treat you.” He opened the door and left without any further comments, and Charles and I were left alone. 

The human let out a breath and ran his hand through his hair as he sat back down in his chair. “You probably won’t make a lot of friends here if you keep acting so defensive.” He spoke candidly, and I slid my gaze from the door to him, not adjusting my glare. I didn’t like what he was implying, and he gave me a pointed look back. “The people who are in charge here are a very tight-knit family. Dysfunctional? Absolutely, but these people will do anything to protect their own, and Markos is a part of that group. So like him or hate him, he’s a pill you have to swallow if you want to get anywhere here.”

I wanted to be angry with him for telling me I had to try and get along with the man who had cut me open and poisoned me by shoving his essence into my body, but the emotions coming from him tempered my own. He was sincerely concerned for me, even after I had influenced his emotions against his will. I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with my bandages. I noticed I was wearing the silver bangles again, and I frowned. Of course, they wouldn’t have left me unbound without a failsafe. Markos could have ended my defiance with a snap of his fingers. That sense of control I’d had had been nothing but an illusion. I felt tears burning in my eyes, and I pushed myself further back into the bed, bringing my knees up to my chest as I covered my face with my hands. I hated it here. I just wanted to go home.

At least there I knew how to play the game, and in what ways my opponents were likely to cheat.

“Oh, hey, shoot, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Charles sounded like he was kicking himself, and I could feel the conflict warring in him as he tried to figure out how to comfort me. I dropped my hands from my face, not caring that my cheeks were wet, and gave him an angry look. 

“If you’re going to say things like that, then you need to stop being so nice. Because those people are monsters, and if you side with them, you’re a monster too.” My words bit into him with all the sharp fangs and claws I had in me, and he recoiled. It was clear by his shift in emotions that I had hit a target I didn’t realize I was aiming at, and self-loathing began to pool around him in a dark cloud. 

“They are monsters.” He said after a few moments, the pleasant mask of emotion he’d been wearing before was now completely gone. He looked tired, sad, and horrifically stressed. Once again, guilt coiled in my stomach, and I felt like I had just kicked a dog. “They all have these really big, terrible flaws and do really shitty things, and you’re right: I’m a monster too. I try to hide it, but I can’t run from it forever. Like it or not, these people are the only ones who’ll ever be able to understand me. They’re my family now. So yeah, I’ll do anything to protect them, even if it means I gotta tolerate that asshole and try to get over what he did to me. Because he might have tortured me, but he loves my sister, and he’s her entire world. The things they went through not even a month ago…” He trailed off, obviously bothered by whatever memories he’d pulled up for himself. “You would understand. If you cared about people the way they do, you would know why he did what he did to you.”

I stared at him, not sure what to say. I didn’t know what happened to Markos and his wife, but I was pretty sure I’d known at least as much suffering as they had, and I had never tortured anyone. There was a part of me that whispered in the back of my mind that being too weak to do anything didn’t make me better than these people, that if I had the power to torture Salmar for what he’d done to my family, I would do it in an instant. Ice flooded my veins, and I shivered slightly. I didn’t want to acknowledge that side of me, the blood lust that lurked in the shadows of my soul. I was better than them; I wouldn’t let myself fall to their level.

I wasn’t a monster.