Chapter 11

It took Brea forever to get warm once she’d changed out of her sopping dress into a still-not-her but more comfortable sleeping gown. Her aunt told her she didn’t need to rejoin the festival after the fountain mishap because the night was winding down, and soon only those bent on debauchery would remain.

Debauchery. Brea grinned into the dark. That was her aunt’s fancy speak for the drunks. Though, most of the people at the festival had been pretty far into their cups already by the time she left.

As if she’d never seen drunk people before.

It would probably horrify her aunt to hear about her mom’s frequent nights out or the way her dad crushed entire cases of beer sitting in front of the TV for college football Saturdays.

No, she was no stranger to debauchery.

Rolling onto her side, she stared out the window. Six weeks. That was how long Neeve told her she’d been in the fae world. Six weeks since she set foot on the dilapidated farm she’d called home.

Six weeks since Myles walked the earth.

Her life went from psych wards and high school to adventure and romance in record time. Maybe that was why it still didn’t feel real. She waited for the day the other shoe dropped. Nothing could be this perfect.

No one.

Not even Griff.

She smiled as she thought of the way he’d escorted her through the festival, past performers and scurrying children. Other than the nobles, no one looked directly at her.

Well, except the delegates from Iskalt and Eldur.

The men and women representing the frozen kingdom sat apart from the rest of the crowd, their icy eyes finding her wherever she walked.

And Eldur… She’d tried desperately to free herself from whatever danger lurked in the waters of the fountain, but only found relief in the strong hands of a man she should hate. Lochlan O’Shea couldn’t be trusted. Griff told her as much. But she couldn’t shake the protective look in his eyes, or the way he’d refused to let her go until the queen stepped in.

Why did he care what happened to her?

His queen wanted her, she knew that, but this was… different… more.

She strained to hear wolves howling in the woods, reminding her she was far from home.

But maybe this could be home in a way the little farmhouse in Ohio never was.

A sigh rattled through her chest as she sat up, finding sleep impossible. There were too many questions on her mind, and only one person who might give her any sort of answers.

Crawling from the bed, she slipped her feet into woolen slippers and pulled open her door, cringing when the hinges creaked. She waited for a moment to make sure no one was around. It was ridiculous she had to worry about this when she’d spent the last ten years of her life sneaking out and running across the fields to Myles’ house. But she didn’t want to cause any kind of scandal for the aunt who’d been nothing but kind.

She wound her way through the dark halls until she reached a room she’d been to only once before, hoping the door wouldn’t be locked. Only the queen, Brea, and Griff lived in the royal residence wing at present.

Pulling on the handle, she smiled when she heard it click and slipped into the room before a wandering guard or servant found her out of bed.

Griff lay on his stomach with the sheet bunched around his waist. To her disappointment, a loose white linen shirt covered his torso. Ear-length auburn hair stuck up against the feather pillow.

He looked so different from his brother it made it hard to see how they were related. Where Lochlan was light, Griff was dark. At least in appearance. When it came to personality, they were the exact opposite. Lochlan had none of Griff’s joy, only intensity.

His hard blue gaze would forever be stuck in her mind.

But he didn’t matter right now.

“Are you going to just stand there or come over here?” Griff opened one eye.

Brea shrugged. “I don’t know. I just figured I’d watch you like a creeper.”

He lifted his head. “I have no idea what a creeper is, but I don’t approve.”

“Oh yeah?” One corner of her mouth curved up.

“When the most beautiful woman in all the fae realms is in my room at night, I’d much rather have her close.”

“Oh, okay.” She turned to the door. “I’ll go find her then.”

“Get over here,” he growled.

“Well, if you insist.” She slipped out of her shoes and launched herself onto the bed, landing on top of Griff.

“That’s one way to wake me up.” He gripped her waist and flipped her so her back hit the bed. “But I like this better.” Hovering over her, he lowered himself onto his elbows.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.

“Was that a request?”

She shook her head. “A demand.”

“You ask so much of me.” He pressed his lips to hers in a slow, sweet kiss. Griff wasn’t an intense man, not a passionate man. He didn’t devour her or steal her breath away.

Instead, he cherished her.

He rolled off her, landing on his side and propped his head up. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“And that’s enough reason for you to sneak into a man’s room in the dead of night?”

She lifted her eyes to the canopy overhead. “I didn’t really think anything of it. I’ve been doing this my entire life.”

He reeled back, his eyes widening.

“I didn’t mean this,” she blurted, gesturing between them. “I used to climb out my bedroom window to get to Myles whenever my parents sent me to my room… which was often and usually after a lot of yelling.”

“Have I told you yet how sorry I am about your friend?”

She went quiet for a long moment, not wanting to talk about Myles. She didn’t know if it was still too fresh, or if she just wanted to keep her best friend to herself a little longer.

Resting her head on Griff’s shoulder, she hesitated before asking the question on the tip of her tongue. “Were you and Lochlan ever friends?”

“He’s my brother.”

“Yes, but was he your friend?”

His voice went cold. “We were young when my uncle separated us.” When he didn’t say anything else right away, Brea thought he was done. Finally, he went on. “But before that… I have memories, small ones. Lochlan is two years older than me, and I remember the day we learned our parents had died, or at least bits of it. The only person I wanted was him.” He sighed. “The court loved my parents. Everyone sank into mourning. Servants. Guards. Nobles. It was like Iskalt lost its soul. But so did we, me and my brother. We lost so much more than our souls.”

“Did you find him that day?”

“I did. I sat next to him, and he wrapped an arm around me.” Griff scratched his face and blew out a breath. “I’ve never told anyone about that day. I don’t know why I’m telling you. I don’t even know if these memories are true or a child’s twisted fantasies.”

Guilt gnawed at her for not talking to him about Myles, but she wasn’t ready for that. She turned onto her side and stretched an arm across his chest. “You don’t have to tell me. But you can… you know… if you want to.”

“I’ve seen too much of Lochlan in the past few weeks. Before I found him in the human realm, it had been four years since our last encounter. It’s easier not to think of him when I’m not staring him in the face.”

“Maybe thinking of him isn’t a bad thing. Do you think you could make up?”

“You mean reconcile?” He shook his head. “Not while he stands at the Eldur queen’s side.”

“What did he say to you the day your parents died? Do you remember?”

Griff didn’t answer at first, and only the sound of their breathing filled the room. “He said it was up to us to make them proud now. That we only had each other, but that he promised it would be enough.”

“Your promises,” she whispered. It made sense now. Griff obsessed over making promises, and it was because he believed Lochlan broke his.

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “At the time, we thought he would rule over Iskalt with my parents’ advisors to help him. He was a kid, but it wasn’t unheard of. My uncle had other plans. Within a fortnight those advisors were either dead or disappeared, and Lochlan and I were sent to be raised and educated in other courts under the guise of creating worldly leaders.”

“Will your uncle ever abdicate?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure it matters to me. Lochlan is the rightful king.”

Brea wanted to shake him. As an only child, she always dreamed of having a sibling to go through life with, someone to share the struggles. Sure, she didn’t know how the fae world worked, but Iskalt didn’t only belong to Lochlan. It had been Griff’s parents’ realm, their people.

How could he forsake that?

“Brea,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Say something funny so I can forget about all of this.”

“I’m not a funny person, Griff. The sooner you realize that the better.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Okay, say something human because that’s always funny.”

“We’re pretty boring. Only elves think humans are funny.”

“I’m not a—” He paused. “You’re making fun of me.”

“Yes siree, Bob.”

“There it is.” His laugh shook his entire body. “I don’t understand half your odd phrases, but they sure are entertaining.”

“I live to please.” She sat up. “Want to play a game?”

He pushed himself up so his back rested against the cherry headboard. “In the dark? Should I retrieve a lantern?”

“Nope.” She popped her p and grinned. “Just give me your hand. We’re going to have a thumb war.”

“Brea.” He frowned. “There’s no such thing as a war with thumbs.”

“Sure there is. I’ll show you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughed. “You won’t.”

“But it’s a war.”

“Shut your yap already and give me your hand.” When he didn’t, she reached out and grabbed his hand, locking it into the thumb war position. Scooting closer to him, she relaxed. “Okay, follow my lead. We count to eight, tapping our thumbs on opposite sides from each other. When we reach eight, try to pin my thumb.”

“Brea, I’m stronger than you. How do you think you can win such a game?”

She grinned. He had no idea. She’d spent many nights having thumb wars with Myles when neither of them could sleep and they couldn’t turn on the light in case his mom saw.

“Just go with it.” She tapped her thumb, showing him how to do it. “One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war. Five, six, seven, eight, try to keep your thumbs straight.” She straightened her thumb, grappling with Griff’s before pinning it in two seconds flat.

Griff only stared at their still-interlocked hands. “That’s not how war works.”

“That’s why it’s a game, Griff, not a battle.”

“Can we try again?”

She nodded and started the count. This time, Griff lasted a bit longer before succumbing to her pin.

“Again,” he demanded.

“Oh my, I’ve created a monster.” She raised a brow.

Griff smirked. “You’d have to master your magic to create monsters.”

Her jaw fell open. “You can actually make a monster?”

“No.” He laughed. “I just wanted to see if you’d believe me.”

“I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t.”

No, she didn’t. She pulled her hand away and scooted up beside Griff, tucking herself into his side. Since entering this different world, he’d kept her safe and helped her navigate her new reality. She’d never be able to repay that.

“Can I sleep in here?” she asked.

“That would cause quite a stir with the servants.”

“Honestly, Griff, I don’t really care.”

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the side of her head. “A lot is going to change, Brea. I don’t know what’s going to happen now that you’ve been introduced to Gelsian society. Suitors will present themselves to the queen, no doubt.”

She coughed out a laugh. “Griff, there is zero chance I’m ready for marriage. I’m not even eighteen.” No matter who her aunt paraded in front of her, marriage was the last thing she wanted. She had enough to get used to.

Griff sighed. “I guess I’m just saying I want to enjoy having you here while I can. Just know… no matter what happens… I’m always here for you.”

That sounded suspiciously like a breakup speech, and they weren’t even officially courting or whatever people called it here. She didn’t know what she felt for Griff. All her emotions were tangled up in the safety he represented, the trust she had in him.

Was it more than that? Maybe. Or maybe not.

All she knew was she wanted to keep kissing him, to feel his arms around her and know she wasn’t alone. Because loneliness was the most dangerous thing in the world. It bred misplaced trust and a belief in things that weren’t what they seemed to be.

###

Brea groaned into the damp pillow beneath her face. Gross, she’d drooled in Griff’s bed. Sunlight streamed across the room in strips of warm light. Footsteps echoed off the stone floor coming closer and closer.

“There better be coffee on whatever tray you’re carrying.” She lifted her head with a scowl, deciding right then she was never drinking wine again.

Griff lowered the silver platter to the table beside the bed, a quizzical look on his face. “What is coffee?”

“You have got to be kidding me.” She pulled a pillow free and buried her head beneath it.

Griff plucked the pillow out of her grasp, an annoying grin on his face.

“Traitor.” She grimaced.

“I had breakfast brought up from the kitchens. Hotcakes—”

“Smothered in coffee?”

He ignored her. “Eggs—”

“Using coffee grounds instead of pepper?”

“And fried pork.”

“Fried in coffee grease.” She grinned this time.

“Okay.” Griff crossed his arms. “I thought I could guess what coffee is—some sort of drink—but now I’m not so sure.”

“I was joking about the grease thing, but seriously, how have the fae not discovered the life-giving beverage? You have magic, and they’re basically the same thing.”

“First of all—” He poured tea into two way-too-small white china cups and handed her one. “If there’s truly a beverage that gives life, we must take this knowledge to the queen.”

She hid her grin by taking a sip of tea. “And the next thing?”

“What?”

“You said, “first thing” and that implies there’s a second.”

“Ah.” He set his cup down and sat beside her on the bed. “You continue to refer to this world as ours. I know it’ll take a while for it to truly sink in—as you humans say. But you are one of us. The magic… it belongs to you as well. This world is your home.”

She set her cup on the tray and turned, pulling her feet up under her on the bed. “I forgive you.”

“For what?”

She met his gaze, letting his kindness soothe her aching head. “For pulling me into a world where coffee doesn’t exist.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling against him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s one of the things people used to say about me when they thought I was crazy.”

He frowned. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She reached up, tracing the curve on his lips, letting her fingers flit over his smooth cheek—cleaned up for the festival. “I know.” She pulled her hand away and reached for the tray, dragging it onto the bed.

Griff’s brow furrowed. “Brea, it’s not proper to eat where one sleeps.”

“Then what’s the point of having breakfast brought to the room?”

He gestured to the sitting area in front of the hearth.

Her brow arched. “So, you’re telling me, with all these servants, you’ve never actually had breakfast in bed?”

He shrugged as if this wasn’t one of the greatest things in life.

“Well, Mr. O’Shea, this is what we’re doing. If you wish to be all formal stick-up-your-butt dude, then you can leave.”

“It’s my room.”

“So.” She shoved a forkful of pancake into her mouth. That’s what it was called, she didn’t care what the fae told her.

Griff only lasted a moment longer before a smile overcame the doubt on his face. He scooted closer to the tray and tentatively took a puff pastry. Biting into it, he watched in horror as a crumb landed on his shirt.

“Lean over the tray.” Brea laughed.

Leaning over the tray had been a rule whenever Myles brought her breakfast in his bed. He made what he called the “Myles special.” It was usually three different kinds of cereal mixed in a bowl with just the right amount of milk. Yeah, this breakfast was much different.

They ate in silence for a while, until Brea set her fork down, unable to eat another bite. “So, we have something to clear up, you and I.”

He took a sip of tea and set it aside, dabbing a napkin across his lips. “Do we?”

“Last night, you told me there were ten things you loved about me. Do you know how horrible it is to do that to a girl? No one has ever loved anything about me, and you come along with ten, but then refuse to tell me nine of them.”

Sadness swirled in his gaze. “Brea, I’m sure plenty of people have loved things about you.”

“Don’t try to ignore the important part of what I said.” Getting up on her knees, she moved the tray from the bed to the small table before inching toward him. “You like that I blush.”

“No, I love your blush.”

“Okay, that’s a super weird thing to love, but whatever floats your boat.”

“I don’t have a boat. As a kid, I never learned to navigate the waters because they’re treacherous in Iskalt with the icebergs.”

“That’s interesting and all, but stop trying to change the subject. I didn’t actually say you had a boat.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Just tell me.” The words exploded out of her, and warmth flooded her cheeks. They stared at each other in tense silence before breaking out in laughter. “Please,” she wheezed.

“I can’t give away all my secrets.”

Gripping his arm, she forced him to look her in the eye. “Just six.”

“One.”

“Five.”

His eyes narrowed. “Four.”

She nodded, sticking out her hand. “Deal.”

He threaded his fingers through hers, and instead of shaking her hand, he pulled her into his lap. “You challenge me. I’ve never met anyone who constantly tested everything I thought I knew.”

She buried her face in his chest, unable to look him in the eye as he spoke. She’d always had a shy streak that hadn’t yet reared its head in the fae world.

“Keep pushing your buttons,” she whispered. “Got it.”

He shook his head like he’d started doing when he didn’t understand her human phrases. “I love your laugh. It’s like the sun breaking through in the middle of an Iskalt ice storm. The world is so cold until I hear that sound.”

“That’s three,” she breathed, unable to form any other response as her heart stuttered in her chest.

He nuzzled his nose into her hair. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can be good too.”

“You are good, Griff.” She reached up and gripped his chin, tilting it down so he met her eyes. “All I see in you is good.”

His eyes swirled with some unspoken emotion she couldn’t decipher. Indecision, maybe? Confusion? Whatever it was lived at the core of who Griff was.

She almost forgot about the last thing he promised her until he spoke again. “And… you’re fearless, Brea Robinson.”

“No, I’m not.”

He smiled down at her. “I took you from the human world, and now you’re in the center of a fae court—and without your precious coffee. I keep waiting for everything to overwhelm you, but you sit here joking and laughing. If that’s not fearlessness, I don’t know what is.”

“Griff, this girl you see… it’s not me. I’m not all these things. One day, you’re going to wake up and realize you only saw what you wanted to see.”

“Impossible.” He leaned her back on the bed, holding himself over her.

“If there’s one thing falling into a world of fantasy and magic has taught me, it’s that nothing is impossible.”

The Brea Robinson in his mind didn’t exist, yet when he kissed her, she let him. When he brought her closer, she held on tightly. He’d see through his own visions of her soon enough, and then all he’d find would be cracks in a ragged soul.

Griff O’Shea was too perfect, too good for the likes of her. That was how she knew the fantasy they lived in would end. She just had to make sure to get out of it intact.