Amy
I woke up slowly, snuggled up in warmth like I did most cold mornings, nestled under a pile of blankets to ward off the chill of the drafty compound walls and windows.
My eyes stayed closed, enjoying those silent morning moments, the ones that were mine alone, where the dregs of dreams swam warm and fuzzy around my head.
Like saving Drake.
Like escaping myself.
Pleasant dreams.
A loud whooshing noise finally made me take a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to wake up my sleepy system, my eyes opening, blinking uncomprehendingly at what was before me. A bit of a stone wall met with a makeshift pine branch one.
It was right about then, too, that I realized I wasn't in my bed made lumpy in predictable places from many nights of use, that the warmth wasn't coming from a pile of covers.
Oh, no.
My bed felt lumpy because it wasn't a bed at all, but rather the lap and legs of someone.
And I was warm because of their unexpected body heat.
I went to shift away, uncomfortable at the idea of having climbed up in his lap in my sleep, wanting to move away again before he woke and caught me. If he hadn't caught me already. But then I realized where my hand was, making me freeze.
My fingers were all wedged between his thighs, thumb brushing up against the most intimate part of him.
Oh, hell.
What was I supposed to do in this situation? Never having been in anything even resembling this kind of thing before, I had no clue.
If I moved too suddenly, I might wake him up.
And then he would know where my hand was.
A frustrated, insecure, embarrassed little part of me whispered about how it was no big deal since he had touched me exactly in the same place just the day before.
It was different, I reminded myself, trying to shake off the swirling, uncomfortable feeling in my belly that had been there since the moment the pleasure overtook my system. At his hands.
I'd been vaguely aware of the spell, though not that it was a spell at all. All I knew was my body was on fire, burning with need. It was all over at once, overwhelming. A tightened coil of need formed in my belly, so twisted that it was painful. My breasts had felt heavy, the very brush of my shirt over my hardened nipples enough to cause more sparks of need to overtake me. My skin felt like it was prickling with it. My brain felt slow and clouded by it.
It was all there was in the world.
Desire.
The need for release.
I had never felt something even remotely like it before.
It felt as though it was going to consume me, like I would combust if I didn't get relief, like I would become nothing but ashes and ember.
And then the world had shattered in a surge of pleasure so strong it felt like it moved from my core, shooting outward until it reached my scalp, my fingertips, the soles of my feet.
It was then that I was aware of Drake.
Of Drake's hand between my thighs, fingers pressing into the most sensitive part of me.
To break the spell, the rational part of my mind knew, understood that this was sex magic racking my system, that it would turn my brain to mush if it wasn't broken. He'd broken it. It was a cure. Cold and clinical.
The problem was it didn't feel cold and clinical. It felt like intimacy. It felt like warmth and goodness.
It felt like something someone else had never given me before.
Inwardly, I cringed at that.
It wasn't like it was a secret.
It was likely the reason the Dark Prince would even consider an offer.
Virginity was still worth a lot in some circles.
And my mother had done everything within her power to make sure it was a selling point she could use to gain her best advantage.
The guards that were allowed to be alone with me knew they would sacrifice their manhood if they so much as put a hand to my skin, a task my mother would delight in inflicting herself. With nothing more than a dull kitchen knife.
Not that a single one of them would have been my choice - were I even given one. She seemed to sense it when I had started having normal yearnings. It was around that time that any young, attractive guards were replaced with much older ones, balding ones, beady-eyed ones, and, well, not to be indelicate... but ugly ones.
I'd never been given the chance to be around men who I could consider, who would be allowed to consider me too.
And after all the years, I had perhaps begun to romanticize it, imagine it. Someday, with someone beautiful, with someone who saw me for who I was instead of a card to be played, who maybe, perhaps, loved me.
That was what I had wanted when I felt a man's hands on me the first time.
That was why I ran away to avoid becoming prey to the hands of the Dark Prince.
It wasn't supposed to be cold and clinical.
But that was what I got.
Even as the sensation overtook me, so did a crippling sensation of loss and an unshakable embarrassment.
I hadn't been able to meet his eyes afterward, as weak as that may have made me sound.
He'd been able to move on, move past it, act like it was no big deal.
But it had been a big deal for me, and it was proving hard to reduce it to nothing.
Taking a careful breath, I shifted my fingers slightly, my entire body stiffening, feeling for any possible movement on his part.
Feeling nothing, I carefully pulled them further, freeing them entirely, balling my fist to rest on his thigh, not wanting to fully pull away all at once.
It was then that I felt the weight on my lower back.
An arm.
Drake's arm.
As I became more aware of it, I felt his fingers, the way they were curled into my hip in a way that, again, felt intimate, felt almost possessive.
Felt way too good, I admitted to myself.
Outside our little shelter, the wind still gave the occasional gust, but nothing compared to the night before.
We had to get going.
As soon as possible.
It was morning.
If we set a steady pace, I was sure we could reach the human realm by nightfall.
I knew exactly how far it was from my parents' compound, less than a day's walk. But we had gone in the other direction. I had no actual idea how far we were away.
"You're up."
It wasn't a question.
It was an observation, making me wonder if he had actually been awake the whole time, if he had felt my fingers touching him, if he had been conscious of my careful extraction of my hand - something that may seem silly to him.
"You were right," I said, sitting suddenly upright, wiping at my eyes in an attempt to avoid eye-contact without it being obvious I was doing so. "It's warmer when we are closer," I added, rolling a crick out of my neck.
The air settled between us, making everything several degrees cooler.
"Do you want to eat, or are you ready to get going?"
"I'm ready," I said, ignoring a little grumble in my belly. There would be time to eat later. I needed some space right then.
Drake made some noise, making his way over toward the door, climbing out.
It was barely a few seconds before I saw him rip off the top row.
"What are you doing?" I asked, looking out the hole he had created above me.
"We don't want to leave any traces of us, first of all," he told me as he went to work on the second row, making it possible for me to stand and step right over the bottom one.
"And second of all?" I asked, brows drawing together when he handed me what was the top row.
To that, he let out a sound that was much like a humorless chuckle. "Nature will no doubt need to call. We will - no doubt - want some privacy for that."
"Right," I mumbled, feeling like an idiot, and maybe a bit embarrassed at the idea of nature calling while he was anywhere near the vicinity.
But at least he was thinking ahead, guarding our modesty, what little bit of it we could retain.
"It's not heavy," he added when I said nothing further. "It shouldn't slow us down. Plus, if we need it again, it will be a lot less work. You ready?"
I nodded a bit tightly, falling into step behind him, a bit annoyed when he fell back a step, moving in at my side, not letting me out of sight.
I should have been thankful, but every so often, I felt his gaze on me.
But, thankfully, he said nothing.
It was mid-day when we took a break, going off in opposite directions to take care of things no two people wanted to share, before settling down in an oddly clear section of the woods, allowing us to sit down on ground not covered in snow as we shared a small meal.
It was then that he seemed to lose whatever control had been there to keep him silent all morning.
"Think we need to talk about it," he said, voice a little low, like maybe he too was uncomfortable.
"No."
"Can't even look my way, honey. Stiffen up if I get too close. Think we do need to talk about it."
"It's not a big deal."
"Clearly, it is," he countered, reaching out, putting a finger under my chin, not forcing it up, simply waiting for me to do so myself. When I did, my eyes found his for the first time up so close, seeing flecks of red around the iris, something completely unusual, something that must have been unique to his kind. Beautiful, my brain added. "I never would have taken advantage of you if I was given any kind of choice, Amy. It was that or let you burn up."
"I understand that," I agreed, nodding a little, making his finger fall from my chin.
"You understand, but it still feels like an invasion."
"Yes." The word came out almost like a whisper. Like a secret.
His gaze fell for a long moment, considering the shells on the ground between us. It rose again though, eyes almost a little sad, guarded.
"I'm not the man."
"I'm sorry?"
His shoulders shrugged a bit at that. "I have nothing to do but observe, Amy. And I've seen how your mother has protected you. Kept men away from you. I understand," he said, voice dropping low with knowledge, "how things are. And that this was not the way you'd have wanted it. And that I am not the man you wanted it with either. I'm sorry for that. But I'm not sorry about saving you." My heart stuttered a bit at that, making my gaze fall, feeling very exposed around him suddenly. "It was the least I could do. You saved me first."
I felt my lips curl up slightly, a bit frustrated with myself for taking it so seriously when all he was trying to do was help. "So what you're saying is... we're even," I said, meeting his gaze.
To that, he did chuckle, but with the humor this time. "Something like that," he agreed, nodding. "So we can move on?" he asked. I was about to agree when he cut me off. "I mean, after all, you got a feel too. Granted, you were sleeping, but we're even on all fronts right now."
I was sure my entire face went beet red with how hot it felt.
"Come on," he invited, standing, reaching down to take my hand, pulling me to my feet. "I'm thinking we may be able to get into the human realm before dark. Can you feel it?" he asked, holding his arms out wide at his sides.
"Feel what?" Aside from the arctic cold.
"The buzz," he declared, reaching for my wrists to drag them up and widen my arms like his. "Just close your eyes and feel for a second," he demanded, seeming to pick up on my ignorance. I never had cause to really feel the veil before. I was usually hurtling through it at a dead run or in a carriage. I knew what The Green felt like from the other side. Like a pulling, like it was trying to drag me back. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, trying only to feel. And there was the cold, sure, but under that, a low, tingling sensation. It felt weak to me, just a hint of something.
"It's far off still. But that is it. If you are looking for the veil, that is what you should be looking for. That feeling. It gets stronger as you get closer. It gets more uncomfortable too. Maybe not as much to you since you have spent so much time there, but for fae who have never left The Green, it is an uncomfortable thing that makes your skin feel like it is buzzing."
"Like electrocution," I suggested, only remembering after I had said so that the concept was likely lost on him. "Hey, Drake?" I asked, watching his back as he turned, seeming to try to feel for the right direction.
"Yeah?"
"Are you going to cross over too?" I asked, unsure why I wanted to know.
"Bring you over?" he clarified, turning back to me, brows low. "Of course I will bring you over." Something in my face must have given me away, because his head ducked to the side slightly. "You want me to stay with you for a night there? Just to make sure they didn't follow?"
That was a very small part of it, sure. And another part was simply liking his company. The third was this odd urge I had. To show him the human realm, to expose him to all the things I myself was so fascinated with. Maybe it was because he had been so trapped for so long, had missed out on so much. But there was a quiet little voice in the back of my head that suggested that I maybe just wanted to show him a little bit of what made me me.
Silly?
Yes.
Girlish, even?
Absolutely.
But true nonetheless.
"I understand if you want to get toward your homeland as soon as possible..."
"I'll stay, Amy. I've been away for so long. One more day won't make a difference."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure," he agreed, giving me a nod before holding an arm out in the direction he had chosen, leading to an area where the snow seemed lighter, like it had somehow melted even with the frigid temperatures.
"When it is winter in The Green," Drake started a while later, "is it winter in the human realm?"
"No," I supplied with some authority, a little pleased to know something he didn't know.
"That's why the trees are dripping," he surmised, looking up at the half-thawed limbs, icy water dripping steadily down on top of us.
The buzzing feeling was becoming stronger as we walked into a muddy mess of the woods. I wondered where we would surface in the human realm. It was always on the property my parents maintained when I was brought there, but I understood that most of the time, you ended up in unknown places - The Green and the human realm both being so vast.
Inwardly, I hoped it was somewhere we wouldn't look like outsiders. Winter clothing aside. I hoped they spoke the same language. I hoped we wouldn't have to slip back into The Green, walk a bit, and reemerge.
Once I was out, I hoped not to have to come back.
I hated even thinking that, knowing Jasper and Jade were still there, knowing how much I yearned to know the sensation of family, the kind that came with love and kindness instead of coldness and ambition.
But maybe they could visit me.
Someday.
Maybe I could send word somehow.
I could even give Drake a note to send off before he visited his homeland.
I knew where I was going to go.
The place humans nicknamed after an autumnal fruit.
I knew it would be busy there, that I may be hard to find, but they knew the human realm well. If anyone could do it, they could.
On a grumble as a bead of sweat trickled down between my shoulder blades, I dropped my bag, stopped, and stripped out of my heavy winter jacket and a few layers of shirts. "Aren't you hot?" I asked, watching as he stood there watching me roll up the long sleeves of my shirt.
"Yes."
"Why don't you take off your jacket?"
There was a guard over his eyes for a long second before he turned away from me, shrugging so that his jacket fell off his shoulders, revealing his horrendously scarred back, a sight that made my stomach drop.
But there was something else.
Something reddish and jagged sticking out of his skin.
Unable to stop myself, I moved closer, hand raising, reaching out, brushing my fingertips over one of the plates that were evidence of his lineage.
Drake's head turned over his shoulder as a shudder racked his system.
"Sorry," I rushed to say, going to snatch my hand back.
"No. It's okay," he rushed to say. "Go ahead," he urged. My curious fingers didn't need any more encouragement. My fingers moved over the plate again, the roughness feeling like it snagged at my much softer skin. "It's just been a long time since I felt anything other than violence," he admitted, making my heart squeeze in my chest as my hand drifted away from the plate that seemed like it was damaged around the sides, maybe making it hard for it to slip back inside his skin. My fingertip found the edges of the scars on his flesh, wide and nearly skin-tone with age.
Images flashed before my eyes of the guards - or even my very father - brandishing whips, canes, tree branches, slamming them relentlessly into Drake's bare back as the man fell to the ground, hunching, face contorted in pain, body tight as he tried to fight the Change.
"I'm sorry for what they did to you," I told him, fighting back a sting in my eyes.
"It wasn't your fault."
"I'm still sorry you had to endure it."
There was a strange, almost overwhelming urge to lean forward, to press my lips into the scars much the way I had seen humans do to their children when they were hurt.
Let me kiss the pain away.
That was what they would say before they did it.
What a sweet concept.
I wished I could do that.
But I knew that no chaste kisses could take away untold years of torture, of enslavement, of imprisonment.
"My clothes won't fit you," I said oddly, pulling my hand away. "I have changes of clothes, but you're too big." He nestled back into his jacket, shrugging. "I could rush ahead to buy you something while you hung back by the tree line," I suggested.
If we end up somewhere near a town, I added silently, wanting to at least keep up the appearances of optimism, not wanting to ruin the idea of the human realm for him before he even got to experience it.
"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, nodding. We walked for another hour before he stopped suddenly, turning to me. "Tell me what direction," he demanded, eyes encouraging.
The buzzing was strong, strong enough that it was uncomfortable, that I wanted it to stop.
"It's... everywhere."
"Walk around a little," he suggested. "Tell me which way feels the worst."
I did, feeling little prickles move over me toward the right. "There," I declared, waving an arm out.
"Good," he told me, smiling a little. "You ready?" he asked, nodding toward the thick line of trees. "It should be right at the edge of those."
My hand moved outward, drawing his attention, his brows drawing down. "It's better to go through while touching. Or, at least, that was what the guards and attendants always claimed."
"Alright," he agreed, clamping his huge hand to mine, fingers slipping between my fingers, this time free of gloves, curling in, holding tight.
And like that, we braced ourselves against the shocks to our system, the way The Green tried desperately to hold us in.
Going through the veil felt a lot like suction, like we were working against a vacuum.
Beside me, Drake gasped, unused to it.
Me, I smiled, everything about this feeling like coming home to me.
"That was..."
"Weird?" I suggested, smiling at the somewhat green look to his face.
"That sounds about right," he agreed, taking a deep breath.
I moved to do the same, looking forward at what appeared to be a car dealership.
To me, it looked magnificent, all those marvelous metal beasts.
Drake, I decided after a glance, did not share in my wonder. "This is what the human realm looks like?"
"Well, this is part of it," I allowed. "But it is as varied as The Green. "Those are cars," I explained. "That is how humans get around."
"They're metal," he told me unnecessarily.
"Yes," I agreed, nodding. "They don't mind so much."
"How are you going to stand it?" he asked, reaching up to rub his hand across his temple where a headache was likely brewing.
"You get used to it. The first couple of hours are the worst. And you are being bombarded. This is a lot of metal. Not everywhere is like this."
"Where are you going?" he asked, voice suddenly rough, hand reaching out to grab my upper arm, stopping me as I went to move away.
"To see about a shirt for you," I reminded him with a somewhat bemused smile.
"It's not safe," he declared, voice a booming baritone, something very alpha and predatory about it. And something within me primally responded to it.
"You don't know that."
"You're not going out there alone."
A little laugh bubbled up and out, making his eyes get even harder. "I am going to live here alone," I reminded him. "Even if it isn't safe, it is safer than The Green is now for me," I added.
"Regardless, I am coming," he added, easing his grip on my arm, but not letting go entirely.
And I maybe liked it there, so I didn't think of shaking it off as I led him through the empty used car lot, making me wonder what time of day it was, or if it was a holiday, but found myself pleased that the signs on the window were English, that the address listed was that for somewhere in Ohio.
"Is this close to your parents' place in the human realm?" Drake asked, stiffening anytime a car whizzed past us as we made our way down the road looking very much like homeless people looking for a new place to squat.
"Um, my parents' place was in a state called Massachusetts. So... no. This is rather far. But still in the same country."
"Country," Drake tried out that word, not comprehending its meaning.
"The human world is split up into territories ruled by different men and women. Ohio and Massachusetts are both in one territory, even though they are far apart."
"How do you know so much? Were you allowed to study the humans?"
"Allowed? No. But I was given a television. And that had documentaries on it... stories about history," I clarified. "My guards didn't seem to understand it, so didn't think better than to let me watch it. There had also been a library full of old books called encyclopedias which tell you everything about the human world. I probably know more about the species that exist here than back in The Green," I admitted, feeling a small bit of embarrassment at that. I could have applied myself harder at my studies, but I always found humans more interesting.
"Are the realms here good and evil?" I turned, smiling over at him. "What?"
"That's not how it works here. There are evil humans. And there are good ones. But no one pledges loyalty to either side. Well, with a few awful exceptions in the past," I qualified. "Everyone here is free to be whatever or whoever they are. And aside from not breaking the laws of the land. Like killing people or rape or starting fires - things like that - they may come and go as they please without worrying about crossing into enemy land."
"That is true of the whole human realm?" he asked, skeptical.
"It's true of a lot of the human realm. There will always be wars and prejudices, but as a whole, the humans... they're good."
"Must be why you fit in here so well," he surmised as we turned off the main road to the paved space of a parking lot. "A castle?"
There was no stopping the snort at that as I looked up at the big red sign with a circle within another circle. "Target," I explained, shaking my head. "It is like a market, but indoor. Let me run in to grab you a shirt, and then you can change and come in as well. I promise it's safe. They even have guards here," I added when he eyed the windowless building with wariness. "Just wait... over there," I specified, waving toward the dumpsters. "I will be just a minute."
And I was, coming back out to give Drake a plain cotton tee that I perhaps got slightly too small. Whether that was an accident or on purpose, I wasn't even sure.
While he rolled up his coat, wrapped it in the plastic bag his shirt had come in, and stashed it where no one might steal it, I did the same - changing into appropriate shoes I had bought, and maneuvering into a short-sleeves shirt under my long-sleeved one before peeling the latter off.
"Ready?" I asked, sure he wasn't. Because there was no way to prepare for something such as a box store if you hadn't at least seen one on a show before.
"Of course."
He walked in with confidence that he slowly lost within seconds, blinking hard at the harsh overhead lighting, head swiveling around to try to take in everything at once.
"What is that smell?"
"The food court," I supplied, waving a hand.
"What else is here?" he asked, eyes bright with curiosity, body a little tense.
Because most of the markets in The Green were places of possible violence, places where Dark and Light converged, where terrible things could be around any corner.
We spent the next two hours there, Drake looking at everything from the packaged food to the children's toys, wondering aloud how they got all the humans into the televisions, bringing a few sideways looks from people who slowly backed away, something he didn't notice, but I couldn't help but smile at.
We walked up to the check-out with a notebook and pen for me and a bulky sweatshirt we had found in the clearance section for him, lucking out that it was natural, not synthetic, and a giant bag of almonds for his trip back.
I had to slap his hand away from the belt as he kept letting it run over his fingers, something the cashier made her eyes small at.
"Was that a lot of money?" he asked on our way out.
"No. Not really."
"At Tenray Square, a bag this size of almonds could cost you six months of labor," he said, shaking his hair.
"The human realm has its perks if you have human money. They even have fresh fruits and vegetables year round. Drive them from other places that are summertime while it is wintertime wherever you are."
"Interesting. Where do we go from here?" he asked, leading us over to grab our belongings from where we stashed them.
"Well, I guess we get a hotel room. Temporary lodging," I explained.
After asking someone then a couple mile hike, we ended up at our destination - a two-story sand-colored stone building.
Twenty minutes later - after producing some little card with my picture on it that claimed I was a Massachusetts resident, something my father had paid a lot of money to get produced - we were walking up to the elevator.
For all my trips to the human realm, it was something I still hadn't experienced myself. Mostly because the guards were afraid of them - whether they would admit to that or not.
"What is that room?" Drake asked, squinting. And, this time, even my head started to pound at the idea of being stuck inside the metal room.
But, I reminded myself, if I wanted to fit in with the humans, I would have to learn how to tolerate them sometime. Might as well start now.
"It's an elevator. And I suspect it is going to be unpleasant," I told him, looping my arm through his, dragging him forward into our uncertain fate.
The doors slid closed, making both our bodies tense.
Then there was a soaring sensation, making my belly drop, my hand curling further into Drake's arm.
"Let's not do that again," Drake suggested when the door slid open, and we all but ran out onto solid ground again.
"Stairs. We can use the stairs from now on. I just figured that was worth a try."
"It was fast," he allowed as we followed the row of numbers toward our room, watching with curiosity as I slipped the keycard in much the way I had seen in movies.
"It's cold," he murmured as we moved inside the room, finding one large bed covered in white sheets and blankets, a window leading out, and a bathroom to the right.
"Air conditioning," I told him, pointing to the vent. "You can control the temperature of the room with this," I went on, pointing to the thermostat. "You can make it warmer or cooler." I turned it warmer, leading him over to the bathroom, enjoying introducing him to things more than I knew I would. "Here is the shower," I told him, turning the water on. "There are soaps and shampoo." I left out the part about them not being pure and organic. They might irritate slightly, but not enough to really bother him. "And this is the toilet," I finished with, flushing it. "And we have a door. No more pine branch barriers."
"That - and bags of almonds - are two things I could get used to. Would you mind?" he asked, waving to the shower.
An image of him flashed across my mind, naked under the spray, his muscles on glorious display. The idea made a heat spread across my body, made my core tighten.
"Sure," I said, hearing the airiness in my voice, wondering how long it had been since he could properly clean without the chains hindering him. With privacy. "Here are towels. And... washcloths. And you can use the robe," I told him, motioning to the one hanging behind the door - white and fluffy. At his brows drawing together, I shrugged. "I will wash your pants and jacket for you once you're done. They should dry by morning. And then you will have something fresh to head back in. What?" I asked when all he did was stare at me, something unreadable in his eyes.
"I forgot what this was like," he told me.
"Forgot what what was like?"
His next word pierced my heart.
"Kindness."
I don't know what prompted me to do it. I had barely known the sensation of one myself. But the urge was too strong to fight.
I closed the space between us, pressing my face into his chest, wrapping my arms around his back, squeezing tight.
There was a moment of stunned silence before the tree limbs he called arms wrapped around me, crushing me closer to him.
We stayed that way for a long time, until the warmth felt like something I would remember always, the scent of The Green clinging to his skin, his arms feeling like a safe place to be.
But then, spell broken, we both pulled away at the same time.
"Turn the handle to the top for hot water," I told him, ducking out without making eye-contact, a bit worried he would see the truth in my eyes. That the embrace meant something to me.
Because I hadn't known kindness either.
And feeling it from him made me think I could really get used to it.
But not with him, I reminded myself as I slowly pulled off my shoes and pants, climbing into pajamas - the only pair I had in my bag.
He was going back to The Green. Hopefully to find his family. Maybe fall in love with one of his kind, create another generation of rare creatures.
And me, I was going to go to New York City. I was going to disappear. I was going to get a job. An apartment. And maybe, just maybe, I could meet friends. I could build bonds. I could possibly even find a man. Of my choosing.
Why the idea of that filled me with something resembling dread was beyond me.
The door to the bathroom opened, bringing a gust of humid air as Drake walked out in the robe that had opened to a V down nearly to his navel.
I was almost embarrassingly aware of his nakedness.
"Humans have us beat on cleansing as well. The soap burned a little," he admitted, shrugging.
"They're not natural," I supplied, jumping up off the edge of the bed a bit frantically, rushing into the bathroom. "I'll be back out in a moment," I told him, then proceeded to take almost an hour, stripping out of my pajamas to take a quick shower myself, slipping back into them after, then washing his clothing as promised.
By the time I moved back out to the bedroom, I found Drake in the bed under the covers, sleeping like the dead.
Sleeping the sleep of a free man, a man who knew no one would wake him with demands, with anger, with violence.
I slowly climbed in beside him, careful not to make him stir, wanting a peaceful night for him for the first time in who-knew how long.
I woke up sometime later to something in my hair.
When my head twitched as if to dislodge it, something beneath me moved, rumbling. No. Chuckling.
Consciousness came to me all at once.
And now, well, I couldn't use the excuse of being cold, of being drawn to his warmth.
That it was simply survival.
No.
At some point during the night, I had moved across the expanse of the bed, climbed upward onto Drake and, oh my, cocked my leg up over his waist.
What was wrong with me?
Even as that thought formed, I understood the sensation in my hair.
Drake's fingers were sifting through it, fingertips rubbing my scalp in a way I had never felt before, something calming and also stimulating, a feeling that moved from his touch and down my spine, making a tremble rack through my system.
Feeling it, Drake's hand froze in my hair much like his air froze in his chest.
Unsure what possessed me to do so, I mumbled into his chest. "That feels good."
My voice sounded almost choked, foreign to me.
Beneath me, Drake's breath exhaled hard, almost like that of a hiss.
"I figured."
His voice sounded off too.
Rough. Grumbly almost.
I thought I had said something wrong until a long second later, his fingers started working their magic once again, fingers focusing a bit more on my scalp, working in slow circles that were sparking a need in my body, something akin to that which I had felt in the woods right before Drake had made it explode into pleasure.
And, suddenly, I wanted that again.
I wanted that by choice.
I wanted that with him, by his hands.
I wanted it the way it should have been.
Not thinking, not even sure what one was supposed to be thinking of in such a situation, I simply acted, did what my body was begging me to do.
My knee shifted, planted at the other side of his hips, allowing me to slide over him fully, pressing my palms to the soft sheets made warm from our body heat, looking down at Drake as my hair fell forward, curtaining us.
"What are you doing, Amy?" he asked, voice still rough, but now also cautious, curious.
"I don't know," I admitted, watching as his dark eyes went a bit hooded, as the red within them somehow brightened, stood out more in the dark depths.
Taking a breath that shuddered out of him, he reached up to tuck some hair behind my ear. "Then maybe you shouldn't do it," he suggested, trying to be the reasonable one, the rational one. Maybe even the thoughtful one.
But I didn't want reason and rationale and thought.
I just wanted more of the feeling coursing through me.
My eyes roamed over his face, never wanting to forget it even though I knew our lives would go different ways, even though I knew that my death would precede his by decades - or longer - since I was to stay in the human realm. I would be returning to the Earth before he even looked like he aged a day.
"Can I kiss you?" I asked, eyes flicking up from his lips to his eyes.
"Amy..."
"It's a yes or no question," I told him, feeling his hand tighten in my hair. "Just a kiss," I specified.
At least, that was all I was planning on.
"Okay," he agreed, eyes going smaller still as his breathing went unsteady beneath me.
I lowered down to him in what felt like slow motion, every part of me feeling over sensitive, poised for the moment.
It was a small thing, surely, to most.
To me, kept cloistered, kept as pure as possible for my mother's personal gain, it felt big. Huge.
My lips pressed to his, a shiver moving through my insides to find his lips firm, foreign, yet welcome.
I fumbled.
Or, at least, it felt like I fumbled, like I had no idea what I was doing.
But Drake's hand twisted in my hair, his lips parted, coaxing mine, demanding more.
A low, throaty sound escaped me, making his body shift, turning, pressing me back into the mattress, his body half moving over mine, crushing into me.
My leg rose up, wrapping around his lower back, pulling him against me, shuddering hard when I felt his hardness pressing against my inner thigh, so so close to where my body was begging for the contact, begging for things long denied it.
My hips ground upward as a low, throaty moan escaped me, the sound seeming to shatter something between us, making Drake pull away hard, pressing up on his hands, putting space between our bodies.
"Just a kiss, Amy," he reminded me, voice rough with his jagged breathing.
"It's not enough," I told him, hands grabbing for the lapels of the robe, dragging him back downward.
His forehead pressed into mine as his air rushed out of his chest. "I don't have too much control left here, honey. Please don't push it."
There was a vulnerability in his voice, something raw and sweet that somehow managed to let me think through the desire clouding my brain, burning my body.
"Sorry," I mumbled, hand moving up to run through his short hair.
His eyes opened, brows drawn low over their dark depths. "Don't apologize. Do you have any idea how lucky someone like me is to get to have you want him?
"Someone like you?"
"A prisoner. Someone who has been broken day in and day out for more time than he even knows consciously."
"You didn't choose to be a prisoner, Drake. That isn't who you are. You're... you're a legend come to life," I told him, not understanding the insecurity within him, but hating my parents all the more for embedding it there. "I think I'm the lucky one. I mean who else in all The Green could claim she got to kiss a Draca?" I asked, smiling a little when his eyes lost the sadness, found warmth instead.
On the nightstand, the phone started screaming, making Drake shock back, eyes wide.
"Our wake-up call," I explained to him, reaching for the phone, pulling it up to my ear.
"Wake-up call," the chipper woman at the front desk declared.
"I appreciate it," I told her, hanging up. "We set it up so we didn't miss check-out," I reminded him as he fell onto his back, hand resting on the hard outlines of muscles in his abdomen where the robe had opened.
"Right," he agreed. "It's time to leave," he added, sounding resigned.
I guess the same feeling settled inside me as well as I sat back against the headboard. "I will walk you back to the veil," I offered.
"No."
"Yes," I countered. "I want to make sure you can get back."
"I can get back," he assured me, sending me a smile. "I can navigate The Green, honey. I think I can handle O-hi-o." He stretched the word out, a foreign sound on his lips. "I will see you off in... what was it?" he asked, eyes scrunching up, searching for the word.
"The bus," I reminded him.
"The big, metal car that sits dozens of humans."
"And now me," I declared, forcing a smile and a pep in my voice that I did not feel.
"I don't like it."
I nodded at that. "I don't like the idea of you going back into The Green to face some unknown fate either."
"I'll be fine. I always am."
"If it turns out that your kind... that..."
"That there are none left," he finished for me.
"Yeah. What will you do then?"
"Honestly? I don't know."
"Cece will take you in," I told him with certainty. "You helped save her and Jasper. The Light will protect you from harm."
"I don't know if a life of protection is what I want. It sounds a lot like another name for captivity to me."
With a nod, I shrugged at him. "Well, you can come find me in New York City if you want," I told him, knowing it was silly, but also knowing he didn't stand a chance if he fled The Green of being seen as anything other than a crazy person. "How about this, every Sunday, I will go to a place called The Museum of Natural History at noon. And stay there for two hours. Here, let me write this down," I said, rushing for the pad and pen I had purchased the night before. "You take this twenty-dollar bill to use as your donation to buy a ticket - if you need to live in the human realm that is, of course - and come meet me at the tyrannosaurus rex. That way, you have someone on the outside who understands you, that you can talk to about things like how a cell phone works or what the purpose of a Snuggie is," I told him, folding the money into the note. Along with another short message that I figured he would only read at some point much further down the road.
"Time passes so differently here than..."
"I will be there," I assured him. "Every first Sunday. If you ever need help in this realm, that is where you can find it. I mean... for as long as I am around," I added, shrugging off the idea of how easily the mortal coil was shrugged off in this realm. That was what I had chosen. A shorter life by my own terms instead of a much longer one controlled by others. It seemed like a fair trade.
"How much faster is the time here?"
"I haven't been able to peg it down completely, but it seems like for every week in The Green, it is several months in the human realm."
"By the time I even reach my ancestors' land, half a year could pass here."
Was it just my wishful thinking, or did his voice almost sound sad? It had to have just been me, and the unexpected longing I had to have him with me, to not have to do this all alone.
But all alone was what I would have to be.
It was something I was going to have to come to terms with.
"Still," I assured him, "if you get there, and there is nothing, make your way back. Maybe it would be a year, but I will still show up at that museum in case you need a friend in this world."
I knew I could likely use one.
"You're a good woman, Amy," he declared, voice firm, leaving no room for me to disbelieve him.
"Can you do me a favor?" I asked, reaching for another piece of paper.
"Anything."
"If you come across someone on their way to the Light court, could you have them deliver a message for me to Jasper? You can give them this," I told him, reaching in my bag to pull out a ring - a sapphire as big as my thumbnail that my father had given me on my birthday the year before.
"That is too much for that errand," he told me, eyes wide as he looked at the ring.
"Well, then if you pass by Tenray Square or something, you can trade this for various other items, including the errand."
"That ring must be worth something in the human realm."
If I understood anything about humans and their jewelry, it would get me close to ten-thousand dollars. That could cover rent for me for several months. But I had other rings as well from a lifetime of my father not realizing I didn't care for rings. Rubies. Spinel. Emerald. On top of the money I had stolen from the fund at my parents' estate in the human realm when I was last there, another ten-thousand right there.
I couldn't claim to know everything about human finances, but I was pretty sure I was going to be okay money-wise - at least until I could find a job.
I jotted off the note to Jasper, telling them the same thing about the museum, should they ever need or want to see me, then folded it up, and gave it to Drake to tuck in his jacket pocket.
"We should have gotten you more at the store. For your journey."
"I have enough food to last me a month. What more could I need?"
"We will stop at the store again," I decided. "The bus stop is right around there anyway. And you need a bag at least. You can't bring the plastic for those almonds into The Green. And maybe I can get you a blanket?" I suggested, hoping they would have something natural, something made of cotton. "Or maybe some..."
"Amy, you've done enough for me," he cut me off. "I have survived for this long without a blanket in the cold, I am sure I can make it back to my land."
"But I am getting you the bag," I added firmly, not telling him that maybe an item or two that he didn't know about would end up in there.
"Okay. Just the bag."
With that, he climbed back into his clothes; I got into fresh ones more weather-appropriate, we checked out, and made our way back down the road in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts.
Mine, oddly, were mostly about him.
His, well, were likely about his family, his tribe. I wasn't arrogant enough to imagine they might be about me.
We went back to the store. I bought him a backpack I had found made of leather which, even though there were no cows in The Green, was natural. I snuck in some berries, knowing they would be welcome if all he had to eat were nuts on his trip, and socks, a hat, and gloves. He might not have wanted them, but he would get use out of them regardless.
"That thing is taking you all the way to your Apple?"
"The Big Apple," I clarified. "And no. It is going to take me a few different buses and trains to get there."
"I don't like the look of those humans," he grumbled, jerking his chin at a few men - beleaguered, angry at life, sitting looking out the windows.
"Safety in numbers," I assured him, nodding my head at the group of women toward the front. "I'll be fine. You're sure you know your way back to The Green from here?"
"Yes. Don't worry about me either, Amy. And thank you," he told me, words heavy. Because, for us, for fae, thanks meant you owed someone a favor. He was offering me one. Should I ever need it.
"Take care of yourself," I demanded, moving in to put my arms around him as the doors to the bus creaked open.
"You too," he ordered, squeezing me tight until the driver of the bus let out a cough, my warning that he was ready to go.
"I hope you find them," I told him as the doors closed, preventing any reply.
And I did.
I hoped he found his kind.
I hoped he was happy with them.
Even if it meant I would never see him again.
Even if that thought made a deep sadness settle in my belly, something I couldn't shake even after five buses and two trains that brought me where I was planning to go.
The Big Apple.
New York City.
My dream had come true.
Why then did I feel so utterly unhappy?