Kitiera Morey

Chapter One

Irvette wrapped her cloak—made from a light-as-air, shimmery fabric very few humans had ever had the chance to feel, let alone wear—tight around her sore, tired body with the vague hope to banish the chill clinging to her bones.
The cloak offered no warmth, no relief.
She sighed.
Irvette wished to light a fire, but she was well within her caravan’s camping grounds and couldn’t chance the smoke drawing attention.
In the distance, to her right, the undeniable sound of twigs snapping underfoot echoed as soft as the rustling of leaves, yet Irvette’s ears picked up the distinctive noise. She flinched and pressed herself closer to the enormous tree she’d spent the night propped against.
Her hand grasped the bone dagger that hung at her hips; a habit born of necessity. A mixture of fear and eagerness grasped her heart, made it beat in her chest like the wings of a startled bee.
She’d dreamt of this moment for days; had spent countless hours during her traveling imagining every possible outcome of the coming encounter. Irvette had rehearsed her words until she could repeat them backward. She’d prepared for nothing in her life as she had for this anticipated conversation.
Irvette stepped away from the tree just enough to peek at the wooded area before her and spotted the approaching person.
The man.
Her heart skipped and her stomach twisted. Bitter bile crept up her throat.
God once again proved He did not believe in kindness. Nor could He resist reminding her of all she’d given up.
Is this how He declared her a fool?
The sun shone through the overhead canopy of leaves and illuminated the man’s square, ruddy face. Kelvin, the man Irvette had been moments away from marrying before she’d abandoned her future for heroism, looked solemn as he surveyed their caravan’s territory. His muddy brown eyes, so sharp and penetrating, took in his surroundings. He presented a solid, rigid force; a terrifying being to reckon with.
The urge to cry swept over Irvette. She’d done that to him.
Before she’d fled, Kelvin had been a sweet man. He’d always been strong and impressive in stature, but his caring nature had tempered his imposing presence. That’s what had drawn her to him, and what had made her agree to his marriage proposal.
The man she saw now wasn’t the one she’d fallen in love with.
She hated herself for changing him so.
Kelvin passed her hiding spot.
Irvette held her breath and huddled against the tree so firmly the jagged pieces of bark dug into her skin.
Though she wanted to reach out, to chip away his hard, strange exterior until she found his true self, Irvette didn’t make a move that would alert him to her presence. She hadn’t come for him. She’d have to return later if she survived the primary task that had brought her back from Faery and salvage what she could with Kelvin.
Kelvin wandered out of sight.
Irvette rested her forehead on the tree’s damp, rough trunk. Her heart still raced, and her blood pounded in her ears and deafened the sounds of life waking around her. A trembling started at her core and spread until every part of Irvette shook.
She cursed as she willed her body to calm. She couldn’t afford to turn into a mess, not so close to finishing her year-long mission.
To draw her thoughts away from Kelvin, Irvette tipped her head back to stare past the leaves to the pastel blue sky beyond. Despite her crushed feelings, the incredibleness of the human world dumbfounded her, again. She marveled at the dull, muddled way of the surrounding realm. She drew comfort from being where she belonged.
Shame she had such a limited time to enjoy it.
Shallow breathing behind her startled Irvette.
She unsheathed her dagger and whirled to meet her attacker. She had the thin blade pressed against the person’s throat, ready to slice at the delicate skin there before her mind registered the person.
Irvette dropped her hand and stepped back; her face flushed.
“I’m so sorry,” she told her older sister, Darby.
Darby nodded, her dark blue eyes round. “No, I… it’s fine.” She gulped. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”
“How—How have you… been?”
Irvette regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth. One glance at her sister told her all she needed to know.
Darby’s once healthy complexion now resembled sour milk. The skin under her eyes had turned so black it looked like she’d rubbed coals there. She’d dropped the precious bit of weight she’d had that had kept her frame willowy instead of skeletal, and her hair hung in matted brown clumps around her gaunt face.
Irvette opened her arms. “Oh, Darby.”
Darby stepped into Irvette’s embrace.
She cradled her sister close; horrified by how brittle Darby felt. Darby didn’t seem human, appeared more like one of the creatures Irvette had come across in her adventures.
The comparison sickened Irvette, and she almost shoved Darby away.
God, how she hated the monsters—faeries—she’d given her service to. If it would work, she’d sell her soul to kill them all, to protect humans from their cruel ways.
As if she sensed Irvette’s troubled thoughts, Darby backed out of her sister’s hold. Her gaze swept over Irvette, took in her younger sister’s appearance, only a shade better than her own. Darby’s cracked, swollen lips pursed as a furious glint hardened her eyes.
“Where is she?”
The coldness of Darby’s tone surprised Irvette. She couldn’t understand her sister’s sudden mood change. If Irvette didn’t know better, she’d have guessed Darby blamed Irvette for last year.
But why would Darby believe such a lie?
She knew Irvette loved her niece, that Irvette had delighted in every moment she’d spent with Mackensie.
Would Irvette have entered an unknown world, done unspeakable acts, risked her life, for a child she’d endangered?
“I… I don’t have her yet.”
Irvette’s stomach sunk to her feet; all excitement she’d had earlier gone. The painful truth she’d avoided since Lurhue, the King of the Seelie Court (and the fae who’d demanded her servitude for as long as he saw fit for Mackensie’s release), had given her her final order, reared its ugly head.
Irvette’s plan was impossible. She would fail.
She’d tricked herself into thinking she ever had a chance of success. She should have acted like everyone else and turned a blind eye to the actions of faeries. Humans were powerless against them, and to consider she could confront them and come out the victor made her denser than a newborn babe.
Little surprise God mocked her.
An image of Mackensie, sobbing and pleading for Irvette to take her home, filled Irvette’s mind. The last Irvette had seen, Mackensie’s cheeks had been bruised from where a fae had pinched or hit her, and she’d appeared sickly, almost as bad off as her mother. She wouldn’t last much longer. The poor child just didn’t have it in her to fight anymore.
The memory shook away the hopelessness that had tried settling like tar on Irvette’s soul.
Before she’d left Faery, Lurhue had allowed Irvette a few precious moments with her niece. Irvette had promised (like she did whenever Lurhue let Irvette visit Mackensie) she would save her. Until God wrenched her last breath from her lungs, Irvette would keep her promise.
“I will get her back,” Irvette declared, her voice steady and sure.
Darby’s lips pursed. “You said when you returned you’d have her.”
“I promise, you just have to wait a few more days.”
Much needed color stained Darby’s face red. She leaned toward Irvette, her hot breath revealing she’d become friendly with whiskey. Her eyes darkened with unshed tears. “You’ve played me.”
Irvette took a step back. “What?”
“This has been a game for you. A disgusting game that… that—You’re crazy!”
Irvette winced.
There couldn’t be much distance between them and Kelvin. If he heard, he’d be back before Irvette could outrun him.
“Please don’t do that. If I get caught, Mackensie is lost for good.”
Darby shook her head. “A wolf got my daughter, not some damn faeries,” she said, her voice as loud as ever. “I despise that I let you convince me otherwise. I’ve wasted so much time praying for the impossible.”
Tears collected on either side of Darby’s jaw before they tumbled away and dampened the front of her rumpled dress. “You’re a demon that’s haunted me for far too long.” She met her bewildered sister’s gaze. “I hate you.”
A weak blow followed Darby’s words and connected with Irvette’s left shoulder. The pain it inflicted was all emotional; pierced her unsuspecting heart. The attack impacted her worse than seeing Kelvin after all that had happened.
Irvette and Darby had always been close. Two years separated them, and from the moment Irvette could walk the sisters had been bound as if by an invisible cord. Irvette would do anything for Darby. Darby couldn’t concoct a wild story she wouldn’t listen to, wouldn’t consider as truth.
If Darby were in Irvette’s shoes and vice versa, Irvette wouldn’t have turned on Darby. No matter how horrible the situation, Irvette would have trusted Darby was doing everything in her power and would have stood behind her until the very end.
Why couldn’t Darby be the same way? Why had she given up when Irvette had never failed her in the past?
“I’m so close to getting Mackensie back.”
Irvette kept the heartache from her tone. She couldn’t overreact.
If she remained calm, she could get her sister to see reason. She could regain Darby’s faith.
Darby raked her ragged fingernails across Irvette’s right cheek. “Liar!”
This time, her sister’s attack hurt in the corporeal sense. Irvette touched the wound and gazed at her blood-coated palm. She stared at it as if she’d never bled before. As if the scratches on her cheek were the worst injuries she’d ever endured.
A ridiculous thought.
Faeries were the most disgusting, malicious beings in all existence, no matter the court they belonged to. The ones Irvette had had the displeasure of meeting hadn’t been hesitant in inflicting their most creative tortures on her.
She’d have nightmares for the rest of her life, never gain freedom from what she’d undergone. Even if she won back her niece, she’d still lose. Her time in Faery would linger in the back of her mind, ready to swallow her sanity whole and spiral her into madness.
But Darby drawing blood from her was a more daunting reality to deal with.
Many times over the past year, Irvette had been on the cusp of breaking down, of giving in and accepting defeat. Somehow, she’d found the strength to overcome the desire and push on.
Irvette should have handled Darby’s behavior without batting an eye, and, yet, Darby’s simple, childish action left her shattered.
“I…”
“Go!” Spittle dripped from Darby’s lips.
She shoved Irvette and Irvette stumbled. She tripped over a sizable branch and landed hard on her bottom.
She sat, the world around her spinning, as the dew from the grass soaked her skirt. Irvette focused through tears on the enraged, corpse-like figure standing over her that no longer shared any resemblance to her sister.
The character, a brute as incapable of mercy as any fae, kicked at Irvette. Its muddy boot connected with Irvette’s left knee and she yelped.
“Leave, filth.” The figure launched another well-aimed kick. “Never come back.”
The pain of the first kick had shaken Irvette’s stunned conscience, and she scrambled away in time to avoid the second kick. She hoisted herself to her feet and turned away.
One more blow, this one a fist, found its mark between Irvette’s shoulder blades. It caused her first running steps to wobble, but she kept her balance.
Without one last glance, Irvette vanished.
Even with Mackensie returned alive, she couldn’t go home. Faeries had ruined everything for Irvette when they’d entered her life. She couldn’t fix the damage.
The truth tried to pull more tears from her, but Darby’s brutality had stolen them all. Irvette had become a withered husk of a human.
But she would forge ahead.
Until her last breath, she’d promised.