“You think you do,” Eldas corrects. “You’ve never stepped foot here before.”
I look at the stone and its faded writing. “Another keystone of the Fade?”
“Indeed.” The shadows swirl around Eldas as he moves toward the stone. They reach for him hungrily. Tendrils curl around him with eager embraces.
No, I realize. The Fade does not reach for him. It resonates from him. I was blind to the fact the last time we were here. But now that I understand his magic, I can see the corona of midnight darkness that radiates off of him in waves with his every movement.
Eldas reaches a hand to the stone and a pulse of magic thrums out from him. His power no longer rattles me with fear. It echoes in a hollow, needy portion of me that cries out to be filled.
A starry twilight illuminates the engraved words. Writing I don’t understand shines in tandem with Eldas’s eyes. The power sinks into the earth and the Fade around us thickens.
He pulls his hand away and his shoulders sag slightly.
“It is the Elf King’s obligation to tend all the keystones across the Fade. We charge them with our power to ensure that the Fade remains strong. The keystones weaken with time, and when they are weak…the Fade can be crossed by lesser creatures.”
“One man can’t keep up with all the keystones.” I surmise that’s how the rumors of magical creatures wandering my world from time to time were started.
Eldas shakes his head grimly. “Midscape is a fragile balance, pulled taut with time. Generation after generation, we hold our breath wondering if these will be the final years of peace. Most kings focus on the Veil. Keeping the order of life and death is far more important than keeping humans in the Natural World and those of wild magic here.”
“Let me help,” I offer before I can think better of it.
He chuckles and his tired eyes sweep from the stone to mine. “Certainly, right after you somehow manage to break the cycle of queens by creating naturally occurring seasons in this unnatural world. And then fundamentally change your magic to become something that can manipulate the Fade.”
I purse my lips, not wanting my gut to get the better of my brain. Eldas stands before me, his eyes fading to their natural shade of blue as the spike of magic dissipates. He lifts up a hand and slowly traces his fingers down my jawline.
His hair is a cascade of night, blending in with his clothes, becoming eclipsed by the living darkness around us. The dusty pallor of his skin has grayed, as if the shroud of death has covered him. He has one foot in the Beyond. I have one foot in the world of life.
The only thing that is linking us together is that trailing touch igniting me.
“Besides, you will leave me the moment you are successful. You wouldn’t be able to stay and help.”
You could stay,the voice in my mind is now screaming. Stay with him!
Is this what I really want? Or am I swept up in the moment? Perhaps he has truly transported me to yet another new world with a mere carriage ride; he’s taken me to a place where my guard is down and I can pretend this will all work out. Somewhere I can ignore that I am allowing my heart to be set up to be broken.
Or do I actually feel nothing for him? Is all of this yearning and gnawing desire somehow the magic of the Human Queen trying to ensure its own preservation by driving me to stay with him?
I press my eyes closed and take a quivering breath. I don’t know the answers. But I want to. I need to. If I stay in Midscape, it must be my choice. I must finally make a choice, of my own volition, free of the influences of any man, with where I stand. I have to take my own advice and choose what I want for myself, not what others want for me. And it can never be my choice if I don’t succeed in breaking the cycle. What I really want might not even matter if I fail.
“I’m here now,” I whisper, finally opening my eyes to look up at the face of my antithesis. “Kill the thoughts of tomorrow. Let’s live for today.”
I don’t entirely know what I’m saying. But I know what I want in this moment—him. Eldas’s eyes widen a fraction and that’s how I know he hears.
I tilt my head up slightly. His hand still hovers on my skin. His knuckles hook my chin.
“Kiss me again,” I demand breathlessly. “Kiss me like you did that night in the castle. Let’s give in to this waking dream, Eldas.”
“No,” he murmurs. Everything in me shudders at his denial. But then he pulls me toward him, snaring me with the lightest touch imaginable. “I will not kiss you like I did then.” My breath hitches. Through the fan of my lashes I watch him lean forward. “I will kiss you better.”
His other arm fabricates from the darkness, suddenly around my midsection. Eldas envelops me as he pulls my body to his for the first time. His lean form is long and firm against me. My hands, awkward and inexperienced, land on his hips, quivering like skittish birds about to take flight.
Everything aches in that moment. The second his breath is on my face is the longest second of my life. I was right when I realized all those months ago that wanting to kiss someone makes all the difference.
And I have never wanted to kiss someone more than Eldas. This is not drunken desire. This is not loneliness or unattended needs.
I want him to kiss me. Now. Here. Forever.
He holds my eyes until the last moment. His lips meet mine and I burn.