Features hardening, she says in a voice so cold, I can feel its icy tendrils pierce my very bones, “How do you rid someone of toxins? You make them bleed.”
The hairs on the back of my nape rise with her statement, uneasy with the similarities between her words and that of the traitor guard. But I immediately dismiss the eerie feeling with a shake of my head. Lena can occasionally seem cold and ruthless, but she could never be like that traitor. “Not everyone hates humans.”
“Only the ones who have the power to change all this. Like your mother,” she sneers. “She could change all this with a snap of her dainty little fingers.”
“She has good reason to hate humans,” I argue, feeling an odd protectiveness for my mother. She never asked to endure what she did, to be raped by her husband’s murderer and become pregnant with his child. I doubt others would feel much differently than her if they experienced what she had. She may not be a perfect queen to humans, but one of their own broke her. Her behavior isn’t surprising, nor unexpected.
“Because of the Battle of Brecca,” Lena says, a statement, not a question, but I answer all the same.
“Yes.”
“Are these Breccan sympathizers?”
“Possibly some.” Frustrated, I suck on my teeth. “But not all.”
“Yet they are punished for something in which they took no part.” She arches a chastising brow. “Do you not see how ignorant it is to vilify an entire race by the actions of a few?”
“I do, but…” I suck in a long breath, my chest expanding as I try to control my anger. “It hasn't always been this way.”
She laughs, a harsh, mirthless sound, and gestures towards the human district with a jerk of her hand. “Look around you. Do you honestly believe this neglect and abuse only began thirty years ago?” She shakes her head and purses her lips. “This has been going on for generations. The Battle of Brecca was simply the spark immortals needed to justify the humans' complete subjugation.”
A niggling of guilt rears its head but I instantly smother it, refusing to allow her twisted perception to take hold. “That's the natural order of life. The more powerful will always suppress the weak.”
“And humans are weak because they don’t have your Gifts?” Lena retorts with a curl of her lip, leaving no quarter to her verbal lashing.
“Do you think humans are the only ones suffering?” I snap, furious she can look at me with such scorn for something I have no control over. “Because they’re not. It’s just more apparent with them because they haven't figured out what the rest of us already know.”
“Which is?”
Stepping forward, I brush my chest against hers, ignoring the feeling of her breasts pressed up against my stomach as I glare down at her. “That the ways of fae and immortals are harsh and brutal. Cruel, even. And to survive this archaic way of life, you must fight cruelty with cruelty.”
Tilting her head back, she peers upward, unflinching from my gaze. “Just as you do.”
“Just as I do,” I agree. “If you wish to survive in this world, there is no room for weakness.”
“What if you wish for more than survival?” she asks quietly, her expression slipping into a more somber one. “What if you simply wish to live?”
Confused, my brows furrow together. “Isn't that what surviving is? To live?”
“No,” she replies with a slow shake of her head “Surviving is to endure. To tread through life in a perpetual state of struggle. With fear, pain, loss. To live is to find hope, happiness, and love. To live is to be free.”
A short laugh bursts from my chest. “That's not the world we live in, sweetheart.”
“What if you could?” she asks, her voice barely audible as she searches my gaze. “Would you wish for it?”
“I'll not hope for something that will never come to be.”
Her expression falls and her shoulders slump as she breathes out a weary sigh. “Then I pity you.”
“Pity me? Why?” I ask, offended at the very thought.
“Because you'll only ever be destined for survival.” Her eyes brighten, glowing with a feverish intensity as she places a palm upon my chest. Her warmth seeps into me and rids me of my anger, banishing all else but me and her. “Because there are those who hope. Those who fight for all beings throughout the realms. Humans, fae, immortals. For you. To live in a world where happiness and freedom isn’t a privilege, but a Stars-given right.”
Lifting my hand, I thread her fingers with mine, soaking in the feel of her bare skin. “I don't have the luxury of believing in such fantasies,” I reply quietly. I feel as if I’m disappointing her somehow, but I can't pretend to believe in a fairy tale. Not even for her sake.
“In that case,” she smiles softly, squeezing my hand, “I’ll just have to hope enough for the both of us.”
You really are extraordinary, aren't you? So bright and pure. Such a light in this darkened world. The only light within mine.
Staring into those amethyst orbs and seeing that sweet, tender smile of hers directed at me, words slip past my lips without conscious thought. “Go to dinner with me.”
“What?” She rears back, just as surprised as I am by my words. Flexing her fingers, she tries to pull from my grasp, but I clutch tighter and place my other hand atop hers, swallowing it within both of mine.
“Go to dinner with me,” I repeat myself, not regretting my statement in the least. This is right, her and I. I can feel it to the depths of my soul. She can, too. We’ve both just been too stubborn to accept it, but I don't want to fight it anymore. I can’t fight it anymore. And I won’t allow her to, either.
Cocking her head to the side, Lena scrunches her face. “Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you.” I nod. “Definitely telling you.”
“Most males ask.”
“I'm not most males.”
“No, you're not, are you?” She shakes her head with a rueful smile. “I should say no on principle alone.”
“Probably,” I agree, and she laughs. “But you won't.”
“So sure of yourself,” she teases, then narrows her eyes. “Why should I?”
