I felt miserable and defeated.
I’ve had to fight tooth and nail for every inch of progress I’ve made. Every part of my life is a battle. Isn’t there any place I can just be…free?
I angrily wiped my eyes when I joined Chase. The werewolf wisely said nothing, but he did glance back at Rigel and followed close at my heels—stopping only to nudge Lord Linus along when the fae lord lingered at the garden entrance.
“Skye, clear my schedule for this afternoon.” I coughed, trying to clear the emotion from my throat. “I’m going to visit my parents.”
“Yes, Queen Leila.”
I expected a complaint from Lord Linus—or maybe a request to come with as he weirdly got along great with my mom and my stepdad, who I considered my real dad.
Shockingly, he was silent.
When we reached the stone archway covered by the wrought-iron door, I curiously glanced at the fae lord.
He was looking back in the direction we’d come from, his hands straying to his belt.
What’s his problem? He likes to pretend he’s protective of me, but he doesn’t usually do anything.
In the end, I didn’t care. I sucked in a few deep breaths and tried to smile.
Rigel is back. But now that I know how little he cares about me, it’s almost worse that he’s here.
I was feeling marginally better a few hours later when I sat between my parents on their sagging couch, a cup of coffee clutched in my hands and a warm fleece blanket patterned with cartoon chickens wrapped around me.
“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Dad kissed the side of my head and sighed as he patted my knee. “I wish I could fix this for you.”
My smile was a watery mess. “Thanks, Dad.”
Even though Paul was my stepdad, I considered him my real dad. He married Mom and adopted me when I was about ten, and was the perfect dad—taught me how to drive, paid for my horseback riding lessons, attended any school events I had, the whole thing.
Dad scratched his chin. “But I wonder why Rigel wouldn’t tell you where he was. Must be a secret fae thing?”
I traced one of the cartoon chickens on the blanket with a finger. “I have no idea.”
“But he said he didn’t set the trap, or work with whoever set it up?” Mom asked.
“Yep.” I sipped my coffee, but for once the hot drink didn’t comfort me like it always did.
“I know you’re very hurt that he disappeared, but doesn’t this mean he is still yours, and he hasn’t gone rogue?” Mom asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t say anything about where he was or what he was doing.”
“Surely there must be a reason why he won’t say anything?” Mom persisted.
“He’s a fae, Mom. There could be a million sneaky, horrible reasons why he won’t speak—most likely it’s because he can’t lie about wherever he’s been, so it’s easier to stay quiet.” More words burned in my stomach, but I clamped my mouth shut, making my teeth click.
Apparently I’ve moved on to the anger stage of grief. Yay me.
Mom kissed the top of my head. She had to half rise out of the couch to reach my head since I was taller than both her and Dad. “I know right now you’re feeling hurt, and it’s understandable. But Rigel is loyal to you, sweetie. He wouldn’t do that to you.”
I snorted. “Yeah, right. Because fae are known for being loyal and sticking around.”
Mom studied me for a few moments, then her gaze flickered to Dad. “Paul, could you see if Azure would like some coffee?”
“Sure—I’ll see if I can bring her inside finally, she must be finished changing the oil for your car by now.”
Azure was a naiad—a water spirit—and in addition to being my personal chauffeur, she was also a crackin’ mechanic and tinkered with my parents’ vehicles whenever we stopped in.
I glanced at the clock that hung from the wall. “Yeah, you’ll want to grab her now. Eventually she’ll realize there’s a tractor, lawn mower, and snowblower out in the barn, and then we’ll never get her inside.”
Paul stood. “Oop,” he said when he tottered for a step. He shook his head. “Gosh darn—Leila, don’t grow old.” He winked at me, then turned his smile on Mom. “Do we have any tea I can offer Azure instead of coffee? Lord Linus told me fae prefer tea.”
Mentioning Lord Linus’s name brought a bitter taste to my mouth, but I made my expression stay placid—it wasn’t Paul’s fault my biological father was a twit. “Lord Linus? Has he been bothering you two?”
“Nah—he’s great,” Paul said.
I was starting to ponder Paul’s ability to judge a person’s true self when he continued. “He gives us the best updates on you—sometimes he even texts us pictures of you all dolled up for all your events.”
“He what?”
Mom patted my hand. “Tell Azure we have some peppermint and chamomile tea if she’d like any, Paul.”
“Okay.” Paul waved to us as he left the living room, going through my parents’ small but homy kitchen.
I waited until I heard the door to the garage open and close before I spoke again. “For real, Mom, is Lord Linus bothering you guys? I swear I can’t look away from that idiot for even a second. He—”
“Leila, you need to talk to him,” Mom said, neatly interrupting my tirade.
I blinked. “Talk to Paul?”
“No. Linus.”
I shook my head. “The less I talk to him the better.”
“He cares for you.”
I snorted into my coffee mug before I took another sip. “Not really. He only cares about himself.”
“That’s not true,” my mom said.
“It’s absolutely true!” I almost sloshed my coffee all over my lap, so I set it down on a cow-shaped coaster on the cluttered coffee table. “The day Rigel went missing, Lord Linus told me he didn’t regret missing my childhood. He’s only cared about me since I became queen!”
Mom studied me thoughtfully. “Is that why Rigel’s disappearing hurt you so deeply?”
“…What?”
“Because you think Linus abandoned us, are you afraid Rigel is going to do the same?”
I sank deeper into the couch. “This isn’t the time to bust out some weird psychology, Mom.”
“It’s not psychology,” Mom patiently said. “I just think Linus’s actions made you decide some generalizations about fae that simply aren’t true. Like your general belief that fae—fae nobles in particular—will easily abandon you.”
“Fae are capable of doing some pretty terrible things.”
“As are humans,” Mom said. “They fight and hurt one another just as easily as fae—or any of the supernaturals do.”
“Yeah, I know humans aren’t perfect,” I said. “But…it’s just…” I trailed off, unable to put into words how much Rigel had hurt me.
“It’s healthy that Rigel’s actions have hurt you. It means you care for him, and you’re not going to let him walk all over you,” Mom said. “Frankly, if he came back and you were only happy, I’d be quite concerned for you. And he owes you an explanation for where he’s been—a detailed explanation.” Mom narrowed her eyes, and for a moment her sweet smile and kind midwestern attitude were swapped for something steely and hard.