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The Magic King (The Dark Kings Book 3) by Jovee Winters (17)

Chapter 17

Rumpel

Get her! My brain screamed it at me. Bring her back!

But my legs wouldn’t move. My body was held fast on that bench and my mind at war with itself.

I’d seen her. That fire. That old spark in the she-devil who’d gone toe-to-toe with me when I was being an ass. Shayera had never let me get away with anything. She’d been the only one who’d ever been defiantly determined that I would not be that kind of a deplorable for the rest of my life.

Am I a coward? No sooner had I thought it, I knew she was right. That’s exactly what I’d become, a weak, sniveling, whimpering coward, and I hated myself. What I felt then was unmitigated and horrific shame at myself.

I’d just been with her mother, confessing my great love for her daughter, but there I was, back in that same damn spot, pushing her away from me and telling myself repeatedly that she would be better off without me in her life. I’d do anything to convince myself that I knew best and that I knew her better than she knew her own heart.

I was falling for that woman, for that different, strange, wonderful, soulful creature, and I hated that it felt like a betrayal, because it hadn’t just happened to me. It had been happening all along, from the moment I’d spied the fiery beauty outside my keep, and even before then.

It began the moment I’d smelled her, held her, touched her, and rode the lightning of her kiss. Gods above, I loved her with everything within me.

I was a coward, but it was more than that. I felt a sense of betrayal, to my other one and her ghost, to which I’d clung for so long. I’d half convinced myself that their differences were enough to keep me away. I’d been telling myself that because it wasn’t really the same her, she couldn’t be mine.

But she is mine. She is all bloody mine.

She will leave me. She will call Danika’s travel tunnel to her, and she will leave, and I will have no one to blame but myself. A cold chill washed over me, zipping down my spine and turning my blood to rivers of ice in my veins.

I’d promised her I would try, and instead I’d screwed it all up to hell. I felt the disturbance of powerful magic rippling down my flesh like a tidal wave, pulsing and pressing in on me on all sides. She’d called to Danika. Horror clawed at my throat.

“No,” I whispered. “No,” I said more forcefully. Then I shouted it: “No!” I tore open a time portal, racing through its starlit path, moving faster than I’d moved in a long, long time.

I got to her room just as she’d stepped one foot through the portal.

“No!” I roared. “You will not leave me. You will not leave me!”

I rushed to her, grabbed her elbow, and yanked her out with so much force that she cried out and tripped into me. I cradled her beloved form tight to me even as we fell, trembling all over with the thought of how very close I’d come to losing her.

Twisting, I took the brunt of the fall, and we crashed together on the cold stone floor.

She was gasping, staring at me with wide, beautiful blue eyes. “Rumpel, what is th—”

“You cannot leave me, Carrots. Never. Not ever. I won’t allow it. You’re mine, female. All mine. Now. Forever. For always.”

She melted into me, even as her words sounded sharp and angry to my ears. “How can I trust you? How can I—”

With a sound like a hungry lion, I took her mouth with mine, silencing her words. She was right. Damn my dark soul, she was right. I’d done everything wrong. Everything. But I loved her. I’d always loved her, and I always would.

No matter what form she returned to me in, I would always want her and always need her. And the fear of losing her again would always be with me. But that was on me to overcome. I couldn’t expect her to understand it, but she was here in this moment, dammit. She was here, and I’d very nearly let her get away.

Mine.

All mine.

Crashing teeth and tongues, we fused our mouths together until we weren’t separate, but one. She gasped, sighing into me, turning soft and pliant, and her moan rivaled my own.

She was my woman, different or no. She was all bloody mine, and I was done fighting those demons alone.

“Mine. Mine. Mine,” I mouthed against her lips, incapable of speaking anything else.

“Yours. Yours. Yours,” she whispered right back.

My violent desire rode me too hard. I would scare her—or worse, hurt her. I told myself to release her, to let her go, but my skin was darkening. The Demone in me had awakened. My nails were turning black, and my vision, red.

I stopped moving, shaking all over, fighting it. “Can’t hurt you,” I croaked.

But she was grabbing hold of my face. “Look at me, Rumpel.” Her voice was soft, husky, and hypnotic.

I groaned, too weak to fight her anymore. I clutched at her tiny, fragile wrists, clinging for dear life, afraid that if I so much as blinked, I would drift away from her forever. I would snap and forget who I was, forget it all. Shayera was my tether to this world and to my sanity.

Her eyes were cornflower blue, patient and gentle and tender. “I love you,” she whispered.

I moaned.

“I love you,” she said again, that time with more conviction.

I shook, feeling the tears coming, ashamed of my weakness.

But she shook her head, and her thumbs scraped my cheeks. “Oh, Rumpel my truest and only love. I love you.”

I saw her moving, saw her lift her ring finger up and gently, slowly twist off the ring. I sucked in a sharp, rattling breath as the strength of her full siren’s power blasted into me. But unlike before, I wasn’t burned by her need. Instead, I was caressed by it, held by it, embraced and loved by it.

Her touch burned through me like fire and washed away the illusion of the man, instead bringing forth the animal, the beast. The Demone male came to the fore.

She purred.

I could not move or breathe as she slowly disrobed, peeling off her gown with steady fingers. The first glimpse of her pale pink nipples turned my body to flame.

She stood, not moving back, but instead shimmying the gown down over her trim hips.

“Perfection,” I breathed, my memories of how I’d undressed her in the forests behind my castle for the very first time surging forth. I remembered how I’d gone down on her then, tasting her, suckling the sweet nectar from her body.

She smiled, and the memory and the present merged seamlessly into one. Shayera spread her thighs, revealing the creamy expanse of her flesh, but also the bright pink jewel of her feminine desire. I swallowed hard, staring up at her from my knees. I would do anything and be anything for her in that moment. I was through fighting my female. And she was mine.

“Touch me,” she whispered.

“Where?” my voice broke.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled. “Anywhere, Rumpel. Touch me anywhere.”

I wasted no time. I’d unbound myself from the shackles of false guilt and easily remembered what we’d been like. The fire. The heat.

I sank into her, swiping my tongue along the length of her incredibly wet heat. She trembled, digging her nails deep into my scalp and scraping so hard that I felt the sting of abrasions. I gasped. She sighed. I circled the hood of her swollen nub, swallowing the juices of tart sweetness coming alive again. I remembered all that we’d been and savored all that we’d be again. Her knees buckled as she cried out, and I knew she was close.

I gently helped to ease her down to the floor, not breaking away from her until I could no longer keep my mouth firmly fastened to the lips of her engorged sex. Rocking back on my heels, I drank in the sight of my lust-enflamed female. She whimpered, her tiny hands curling into fists as she pinched at her hard nipples with wanton and wild abandon.

It’d always been like this with us: potent, fiery, all-consuming passion.

A wave of gentle tenderness flowed through me, bringing heat to my eyes and a hard lump to my throat. As if she knew intrinsically, she looked up at me, and her gaze was shaded by lust, but also by something more.

“I remember,” she whispered, “I remember what we were once. I want it again, my Dark One. I want it all.”

With a hungry moan, I resumed my feast of her, spreading her lovely thighs as I sank between them and suckled her like a man starved. I’d been without her touch for too long, denied for years, left to flounder and try to stay sane on my own for so long that I’d forgotten what this was.

I’d forgotten the absolute peace and comfort of feeling her body pressed to mine and the absolution of having my bride whisper words of love and surrender to me and only me.

I sucked on her swollen clit until she writhed. She moaned and clenched her thighs tightly around my face. I sucked on her until she screamed my name to the rafters over and over again, obscuring the lonely cries of the weeping Harpy locked away in the mountains of Never.

She fed me her love and her unconditional surrender. She gave me her worship and need and lust. Different from the other time as we were, some things would never change for us, such as the way our bodies responded, how easily I could bring out her passion and how, with just one simple touch of her hand to mine, she could bring out my own.

I fed on her until she stopped quaking. Only then did I move away, but my Shayera had always had an insatiable appetite for the carnal, and she pushed me down onto my back and straddled my aching, rigid cock. She easily undid my trousers and reverently released my turgid cock from its tight confines. She then slid home with a satisfied and happy sigh.

Shayera from the other time had been so naïve when it came to sex for the first time. But this Shayera knew. She remembered how to touch me and how to curl her body upon me like a cat in heat. She knew how to claw and rake at my chest until I cried out and lifted up on my heels from both the pain and pleasure of it, and how to run the tips of her hair along my chest so that it looked like ribbons of molten lava raking over me.

I clutched at her trim waist, hanging on for dear life. What we were doing, it healed me, and it healed her.

She cried out my name, and I cried out hers.

We were in sync, one, moving as a single entity. I pulled her down to me enough that I could cup one of her breasts. She’d always loved to have her breasts fondled. She cried out when I slid her rose-red nipple along my tongue. She tasted of raspberry wine. Sweet, but with a hint of tartness too. Her skin was soft as velvet and I felt her tears land upon my cheek in a healing rain.

I nibbled her. I worshipped her. She arched her back and shoved down harder on my cock.

“I’m close, Carrots,” I whispered.

“Me too,” she grunted, with her eyes squeezed shut and her lovely face contorted into increasing pleasure.

As a siren, my bride had a ravenous appetite for lust, one I was only too happy to oblige. I couldn’t believe I ever thought to take this gift away from her.

How could I have thought that I could stop fate from happening?

For so long, I kept telling myself it was selfish of me to want her to remain the siren she’d been with me then, but it was Shayera. It was who she was. And it was who I was.

We were different yes, but we were also exactly the same.

“Come, Carrots, come,” I pleaded brokenly.

And she cried out, lifting up and bowing her back. I couldn’t stop watching her. Gods above, she was glorious, a thing of perfect symmetry and beauty. Her face tight with pleasure, her body rippled with goosebumps as she rocked harder and harder upon me.

Her voice cried out louder and louder, calling my name. Always my name.

“I love you!” I cried as the orgasm whipped through me so violently and forcefully that I felt myself dying from it.

It took forever for me to return to my body, and when I did I noted we were both drenched in sweat. She lay upon me, her curtain of fiery hair draping over my chest. She peppered my chest with tiny kisses.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she flitted her fingers over me.

I had no idea what she was apologizing for until I spied the ribbons of blood all over my body. She’d cut me.

I laughed. I was free of the darkness, the fear, the destruction. I was finally free of the shame and the guilt. I no longer needed exactly what I’d once had, I only needed her. That woman was all I would ever need. “I would not care if you’d killed me, Shayera, just never leave me. Never leave me again.”

She gazed up at me with her chin on her arm, looking like a contented kitten. My heart filled with love for her. “Now that we know what could be, we also know how to never let it happen again.”

There would never be another. Never. I released a shaky breath. “I’m not as strong as I once was. I didn’t see it coming, I’m so sorry, Carrots. I’m so sorr—”

She covered my lips with her finger and shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t ever say you’re sorry. Because you did it. At the end of the day, you did all of this, Rumpel. You brought me back. You made me whole. You fought the good fight and you never stopped.”

“I almost did. You were right, Shay, like you always were. I’m a coward. I’m afraid. Afraid of losing you again. I almost didn’t—”

She swallowed my words with her silky tongue, twining it with mine until I remembered nothing other than the smell of her—roses and sweetness—and felt nothing but the weight of her slight form upon my own.

She stitched me back together with her kisses and touch and love, making me whole again. She made me forget the nightmares and the pain of losing her. I knew there would be dark days ahead, because we’d both lost so much, but I knew she would be there.

There would be no more fighting and no more walking away from her. She and I were destined to always be, and we would never quit on one another.

Only when I’d stopped trembling did she finally come up for air. I felt like liquid in her arms, content and pliant. I couldn’t stop from rubbing the velvety softness of her spine up and down, down and up, with my fingertips only. I enjoyed the way she trembled and the way her skin broke out with a wash of desire. “How, Shayera? How are you able to forgive me for what I’ve done? For all I’ve done?”

She laughed a little laugh. “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t? Truth was, Dark Prince, the only thing that could keep me away from you was you.” She shrugged. “That was it. There was never any hope for me. Not then. Not now. I’ve always been yours. And you acted exactly as the man I know you to be.”

“But I killed.”

She smiled softly. “As you did before. But never without cause. Not even when you came against my parents. You would always fight for me and protect me. To bring me back, you did exactly what you had to do. Of course I love you. Of course, I will always love you, no matter what dark curses we may endure. No magic is strong enough to ever keep me away from you. And only you were powerful enough to do what needed doing. Can’t you see that now? Don’t you see it yet? I love you, you silly beast. And I always will.”

I cried then, letting go of the very last tears I would shed through the entire ordeal. The tears were healing. They were exactly what needed to happen. I needed to release the pain and hold her as I did it.

She let me hold her for as long as I needed to.

We didn’t escape that room for the entire day. We made love throughout the long night. Even after we’d fallen asleep, I’d wake up screaming out her name, and she was right there, petting me, holding me, sliding over me and moving her hips, gliding her nipple over my tongue, and whispering to me that I was hers, only ever hers, and she was mine.

The last of the shackles fell off of me then. When we finally left that room, I was free, and so was she.

I took her through more of our memories. They didn’t bring me pain anymore. This time, I explored how we’d first fallen in love. I reminded her and myself of what we’d once been.

I recreated the garden where we’d first picnicked, right down to the bridge and the lotus blossom floating in the water. We made love on the island there. And then I recreated the gardens that’d been behind my castle on the realm of clouds. I tied her arms to that same tree and worshipped her upon my knees until she cried out at least five separate times.

She also worshipped me there. Shayera grew quickly, the siren in her remembering what she couldn’t always quite recall. We were building our life anew, working our way back to each other.

I took her to the ruins of the Greek Pantheon and told her that it had been the spot I’d first known I’d loved her well and truly. She smiled and welcomed me into her arms. Shayera denied me nothing of herself, And it was a wonder—exciting, even—to learn her again.

I discovered her penchant for paints, and suddenly I found a new hobby to become fascinated with. I could watch her for hours, painting nude upon my hidden balcony as she swirled bright, vivid colors with her brushes and recreated scenes from our past.

My heart lurched the first time I saw the image of our firstborn’s face. Her skin was my own, but her hair was the fiery red of her mother’s. Half Demone and half siren, Scimilina had been so beautiful.

I’d not shown Shayera the pictures of our children, because their memories were still too painful for me. I cried as she depicted our daughter right down to her sharp widow’s peak.

She turned on her seat, gifting me with a hidden, coquettish smile. And I knew without any words that my bride was with child again. Days turned to weeks and weeks into a month. I never left her side, nor would she leave mine.

Our days were spent with Euralis, who was still quiet and broody. I could sense that my boy wanted to open up with her. Though he was shy and reticent, he slowly bonded with his adopted mother.

He took after his old man. The Demone were a stubborn, obstinate lot, and it took a big person to want to deal with us. My bride was that person. She was goodness and light inside and out, and I was completely mad for her all over again.

One morning, she gently ran her cold feet through mine, awakening slowly after a long night of lovemaking. “Mmm,” she murmured. She sighed and stretched her arms high above her head before finally peeking open her brilliant-blue eyes.

I gently brushed my dark knuckle over her soft cheek.

“Love you,” she whispered. Those were always her first words to me in the morning.

“And I you, Carrots,” I whispered. It had become our custom.

We both knew what it was to lose, and never again would we go a day without saying those same words at least a dozen times apiece.

Shayera was hitting the point in her pregnancy where she was beginning to feel unwell, so I made sure that our room was always well supplied with freshly frozen grapes and chilled tonic water. It seemed to help settle her stomach.

I framed her still flat belly, and she clutched at my wrist. Her fingers were shockingly white against the shadowy black of my flesh. Gods, I love this woman, with all my damn bloody shriveled heart.

“Walk today?” she asked, wondering whether I was going to get ready for our daily walk with Euralis.

But I shook my head. “Not today, love, I have matters to attend to with Giles. If we’re to return to Kingdom soon, then I must make sure that all is in order.”

She pouted. “Do we have to go back right away?”

I laughed, and she only pouted harder. “It’s been almost two months, my love. And Kingdom is still in a state of—”

She grumped. “I know this will make me seem like a very selfish person, but my only concern at the moment is my family. Not the rest of Kingdom. Can’t we have a little more time? I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

I rolled over, making sure to keep my weight on my forearms and off of her. She wrapped her long legs around my hips and I felt the awakening of her siren’s charms. Very seldom these days did Shayera wear her ring in the castle. She was learning to control her powers once again, and I was so proud of my female that sometimes I felt I would burst. “You will never lose me. But Danika needs—”

She sighed. “I know. I know. I’m just greedy. And pregnant. And—”

“Adorable. Lovely. Beguiling.”

“Rumpel,” she rolled her eyes and swatted at my chest, which I tightened beneath her palm. She purred. Sick from the pregnancy or not, her love of sex hadn’t waned one bit. If anything, she’d grown far more insatiable since—not that I minded.

I bit my bottom lip. “Keep looking at me like that, woman, and I’ll make you beg.” I prodded her with the tip of my fully erect penis, so desperate to slip inside her wet sheath that I felt dizzy from it.

I felt myself freer with her those days. I was becoming the former me again, the easygoing man who could laugh and smile and simply be. Even my staff had noticed the changes. Giles teased me mercilessly about it, but I didn’t care.

My world seemed brighter and fuller. Even Never had changed: Nothing was gray anymore. The world had exploded with life and color and verve. Everything was different, and it was all because of the tiny woman in my arms.

My goddess. My life. My one.

I kissed her. She laughed, startled by the sudden movement. But the kiss wasn’t light or easy. It came from the very depths of me, from the darkest parts that had felt dead and had begun to burst with new life. Hope springs eternal, because in the arms of my Carrots I was alive again. I was whole. She would never know what she did to me or what she did for me.

Her laughter soon gave way to tender acceptance, and then heated, wet, deep kisses of yielding and love.

Her fingers curled through the tips of my long silvery hair, which she wrapped like ropes around her wrists so that she could control my movements. I was her slave in every way.

With a sigh, she moved on my cock. I slid easily inside her wet warmth, which welcomed me into heaven. I rumbled my approval and she purred.

Our lovemaking was slow and perfect. I worshipped her breasts and the curve where her neck and shoulder met. I sucked and nipped gently on her earlobe, which was a new spot for her—she’d never been fond of her ears being touched before.

The differences no longer bothered me. It was just a new adventure for us, and it kept everything fresh and exciting. She played my body as though she was a master violinist, bringing out the very best in me, and I did the same for her.

Harpy cried out into the vastness of Never. I’d found the lost Harpy on a quest Danika had sent me on years ago. When the curse was finally set to right and all the couples reunited, Danika meant to free the Harpy of the curse that’d plagued Galeta for so long.

I used to feel comforted by the cries of the tortured soul, sensing that someone else in the cosmos suffered as I did and understood the depths of that terrible and lonely place. But I’d begun to hurt for the female and wanted to save her as Shayera had saved me.

I wasn’t a perfect man, but losing Shayera and my family had grown me up in many ways. I was through leading a selfish life. It was time to give back to others, time to help those in need.

I’d found my love—my redemption and hope along with it—and now it was time to pay it forward. Somehow, I’d help Harpy. I didn’t know how, but it was a vow set in stone for me.

There wasn’t time to dwell on that right now. I was lost to the touch, the sight, and the taste of my bride.

In moments, we peaked together, crashing headlong into a powerful orgasm that I swore stole the very life from my bones.

When I finally resurfaced, it was to find Shayera sprawled wantonly on top of me as she fingered my sparse chest hair. “I love you, Beast,” she whispered, and I smiled.

She’d never really called me that before. Mostly just “Rumpel.” I had to admit to liking the pet name. “And I you, Carrots. And if you don’t leave this bed soon, I cannot be held accountable for holding you hostage the rest of the day.” I growled, nipping at her lower lip and letting her feel the tips of my lengthened canines.

She shivered. “I do love it when you get possessive, but you’re right,” she pushed up on my chest.

I groaned, wrapping my arms around her and dragging her back down. “I take it back. You cannot leave me. Ever.”

She laughed and kissed me, using her body as a weapon against me. I was helpless to her in all ways. I was putty in her hands, and well she knew it. To the rest of the world I might appear the powerful one, but with her I was never the stronger of the two. Shayera held me up. Shayera made me strong. Shayera was my anchor in a world that made no sense without her in it.

“I have to go meet with Euralis,” she whispered. “But I’ll be back, my Prince. I’ll never leave you. I vow it.”

My heart trembled at the words she always told me. I searched her earnest gaze, words clogging my throat and swelling my tongue. For just a second I felt the squeeze of panic, the helplessness of years I’d been forced to face without her in them.

But she knew, and she simply petted my cheek over and over again and whispered to me of her eternal love until the demons fled and I could breathe again. I could think again.

“I love you,” I whispered with my whole heart.

“I know,” she said back. “I know.”

~*~

Shayera

I CLAPPED MY HANDS, watching in awed wonder as Euralis climbed higher and higher on powerful wings like an eagle’s as he surged deeper into the sky.

For so long, Never had been a world of shadows and darkness, but there was light, and it was everywhere, bursting from leaves on the trees and flowers in the ground. It was a world teeming with colors and verve.

The air was cool, just shy of cold. But I loved it and had dressed appropriately for it. I wore a velvety-black cowl robe to help ward off the worst of the chill. The sky was no longer obsidian, but a steely shade of blue-gray with wispy white clouds floating above.

The woman’s screams were almost now a melody in the background, a haunting, familiar song that covered my body in goosebumps, but that also made me feel oddly safe.

Rumpel had told me everything about her, including who she was and her role in the curse itself. Harpy had been the one to take the darkness out of Galeta, who’d once been The Blue but was now The Pink. I’d sat in open-mouthed shock the night he’d told me the story. And though Harpy’s taking of the black seed had been the catalyst for the curse to be unleashed, I saw her not as the enemy, but as a heroine. She’d sacrificed her life to free Galeta.

Though the years without Rumpel—and everything we’d lost—had been torturous, we were rebuilding. Already, our family was beginning to grow. Soon we would have our life back as it had once been, perfect and free of future curses. No one told me that, but I knew it deep in my heart, because I heard the words in her song.

She’d done all of that to save us all, and I couldn’t hate her for that. So long as Harpy cried, the world would be safe.

I didn’t know how we would free her, but I knew that if anyone could, it was Rumpel. He’d done the impossible when he’d set out to bring me back, and yet there we were. I was where I belonged, in his arms, and he was back in mine too.

The only thing that would make it perfect would be if Euralis would finally open up to me completely. I sensed his holding back, and I wished I knew how to make him trust me.

I loved my son. My memories of the two of us were coming back to me daily. Maybe it was the ghost of the old Shayera feeding me her truths and her stories in my dreams. All I knew was I was beginning to remember with nearly perfect clarity. What holes remained were few and far between, and I found myself growing more and more impatient to get back to perfection. We weren’t quite there yet, but we were so bloody close.

Euralis wheeled around and spread his giant wings wide. I marveled yet again at the power and the steely strength of the boy. We’d not talked much when we’d met that day—he’d immediately set down the path and I’d walked alongside him, trying to match my stride up to his. Demone children aged and grew slowly.

In a way, I was grateful for it. I was happy that I could still view him as my son, and I anticipated that one day he could see me as his mother. I hoped very much that we were close to our breakthrough. I knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time, and I would wait, just as Rumpel had waited on me. I understood why he’d tried so hard to push me away, and it didn’t hurt me nearly as much as it had in the beginning, because I got it. I’d begun to understand that Demone loved with their whole hearts and souls in a way that I could never fully comprehend. The pain of losing me had nearly destroyed Rumpel, and though Euralis hadn’t remembered our past in the way his father had, a part of him did feel the loss of me.

I just needed to be patient.

We’d walked a good distance before he’d shifted, and I stood for over half an hour, watching him fly and wondering to myself just what kind of life he’d had.

The next time he tucked his wings into his body for a barrel roll, he did not fly up at the last moment, but instead aimed directly for me. My heart sped as I watched the magnificent, giant crow land so effortlessly that not even a tiny bit of dirt was kicked up. He transformed just a second later, looking handsome and regal as he shoved his fingers through his thick hair and stared deeply at me.

“Tell me about your life, Euralis,” I said into the thick quiet between us. “What was it like? Did you have friends?”

He gulped and glanced off to the side, and I saw Rumpel in him. In profile, I could see his father’s strong jaw-line, long nose, and slashing cheekbones. But I could see softer, prettier features too, such as a fuller mouth and a smaller face.

Caratina, Rumpel’s first love, was a part of him, and it didn’t hurt me that he’d experienced that love. I was glad he had, because every choice he’d made had led him directly and ultimately to me.

Euralis shrugged, and judging by the way his mouth had pulled into a sharp frown, I sensed I’d inadvertently touched on a sore subject for him. I clasped my hands together, feeling as though I should apologize, though I wasn’t even sure what to say.

“I...” He trailed off, looked at me, then grimaced. “I don’t have many friends.”

I swallowed, telling myself to keep my mouth shut. I shouldn’t enter this land mine with him, especially because I don’t have the first clue how to navigate these waters. I had never been good at heeding my own advice. “Why not?” I smiled softly when he looked at me as though startled I’d ask him that.

“I am Demone,” he said, tossing out his arms as if that should mean something to me, as if I should understand why not from that alone.

I shrugged. “And I am a siren. And yet here we are, holding a conversation, awkward though it may be.”

A ghost of a grin flitted over his lips, as though he didn’t want to find the humor in my words but couldn’t deny that he did.

I shoulder-bumped him, feeling oddly happy to be in that place and in that moment with him. Though the sky was gray and the clouds seemed on the verge of pelting us with heavy sheets of rain, I was having a nice time.

The ghost of a smile turned into a full-blown one when he bumped me right back. “I missed your nonsense, heart of my heart,” he said. “Growing up, hearing you speak your girlish little riddles and nonsensical songs... I grew rather fond of them.”

My heart fluttered, because he and I had so much more history than I sometimes allowed myself to remember. I did not know the boy, but Prince had been my lifeline during my formative years.

“I would have liked to have played with a boy, I think. Another flesh and blood person. Why did you never show me who you really were?” I’d asked him this before but always felt like he’d held part of his truth away from me.

Crossing his arms behind his back, he led me around a bend in the trail, one that doubled back and took us in the direction from which we’d just come. His eyes looked far away as he spoke. “I didn’t want to confuse you, is really the long and short of it. I wanted your trust, heart of my heart—”

“Call me Shayera,” I said offhandedly.

His look was bold and frank. “If I call you anything,” he said, “it will never be that.”

My fingers clenched, sensing that I knew what he’d call me, but wanting to hear him say it all the same. “What would you call me?”

I’d had a dream the night before, in which I’d tended to a boy, holding him in my lap. The boy had deep obsidian skin and eyes the red of flame. I’d looked at him and he at me, and I’d woken up bathed in a wash of love so fierce that my throat had squeezed tightly from it.

It had been another memory, fed to me by the ghost of who I’d once been, she wanted my reconciliation with our son as much as I did. Is today to be the day, finally? Gods, I hope so.

I grabbed his hand when he still didn’t speak. His red eyes flicked down to our joined fingers with something looking suspiciously like wonder burning in his glowing eyes. His mouth parted.

“What would you call me, son?” The last word came out hushed, trembling on my tongue. Fear choked me, and my heart rattled violently in its cage because I was so nervous that he would reject me calling him that for the first time.

He blinked, and I was sure there was a screen of heat covering his brilliantly jeweled eyes. “Mother,” he said in a voice very near a whisper.

My chest suddenly felt too tight, smothered by an emotion I was scared to put a name to. Moving in toward me, he gently cupped my cheek and held my gaze fast.

My knees grew weak, and I wanted so desperately to cry because I felt too much and yet not enough. Love, I was learning, was an endless, bottomless pool of emotion. Just when I thought I’d gotten close to tapping the end of it, I turned a corner, only to discover another ocean of it stretching out toward infinity.

“I would call you Mother,” he said it again, so very softly and tenderly. Then he pulled me tight into his chest, and I could feel the ripple of barely leashed emotions chained tight within him.

I curved my arms around his back.

He was nearly as tall as I was, but I was still his mother and he would always be my boy. He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I trembled, my throat so tight I could hardly breathe. My vision blurred from the tears that had begun to fall and wouldn’t stop.

Euralis stepped out of my arms, bowed his head one last time, and looking up to the sky, he cried out at the same instant that he transformed into his great winged raven. He took to the air, screeching out a song that sounded full of love and joy.

“I love you too,” I whispered, and I knew he’d heard me when he blasted the winds with a piercing cry.

“And I, you.” My lover’s deep and resonant voice wrapped around me like a warm hug.

I sighed and leaned into the curve of Rumpel’s body. He hugged me tightly, holding me fast and keeping me grounded. I was home. And I was never leaving again. “I will never love anyone the way I do you, Rumpelstiltskin.”

He turned me around gently, tipped my chin up with his finger, and softly said, “Until I have no breath left in my body, I will never stop loving you.” And then he kissed my forehead, claiming, protecting, and devoting himself to me.

Harpy cried, and in her song I heard a whispered truth: this was forever, for real this time. For a very brief second I saw a vision—not a memory, but a promise for the future. In it, Rumpel and I were together with a sea of children gathered around our legs.

We’d hit a bump in our story, but we’d weathered the storm because that’s who we were. We were fighters. And we never quit on those we loved.

Forever and ever, we would live happily ever after.

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