34. Dreamcatcher

The spiders click closer and closer. The sharp claws at the end of each of their legs tap the stones in a series of sickening tinks, and bile rises to my mouth. Lori dashes forward with her arms spread out on each side of her, keeping a humongous one from approaching the huddle, but another one takes advantage of her movement to scurry over to my side.

I smash its head with the crossbow, but the weapon is not pointy enough to pierce its thick exterior shell. James throws a heavy rock, but it just ricochets off the eight-legged monster.

The razor-edge of the spider's front legs slashes my left thigh, and blood pours out of the wound. The pain lashes through me, as bright and intense as a bolt of lightning, and a long scream slips up my throat. I fall to my ass next to James, cradling my leg.

Adrenaline rushes through my body, and I condense all the frenzied currents of shadow magic I possess into my palms. A long blade shimmers into view, and I grip it in my hand, the spider now inching on top of me. My jaw clenches in disgust as its dark body obscures the entire gardens from view, and my lips part in desperation. The proximity of the nightmare snuffs out my magic better than a monsoon smothers a spark of fire, and the shadow weapon in my hand withers into nothingness.

The hollow shard in my soul where all my fears and insecurities live throbs at the monster's approach. All my dreams and hopes crumble to ashes. In mere seconds, the spider gobbles out all the fight left in me, its terrible magic more paralyzing than a snare.

Right as it's about to strike again, the monster cocks its globulous head to the side and merely extends its fangs forward to taste my blood. A drop of venom leaks from the tip of the crooked appendages next to its mouth and burns through my thick jacket, right to my upper arm.

"Oww!" I cry out.

The poison melts my skin like a needle heading straight for the bone. I can almost feel the foul, oily liquid as it penetrates my bloodstream, and the oppressive warmth that comes with the contamination quickly spreads down my shoulder. The spider emits an excited, high-pitched squeak, and all its eyes zero-in on me.

Somehow, it recognizes my blood. By the Mother!

Before it can decide whether it wants to eat me or not, an arrow hits it square in the head. The pointy end sticks out of its chin, inches from my heaving chest.

A series of high-pitched noises whistle out of the nightmare before its legs give out underneath it. It poofs in a cloud of dark ashes, leaving me in tatters, but alive. A dark shadow jumps over the rails of the balcony and lands almost on top of me, crouching to face the next member of the swarm with a snarl. One.

Tears streak down my cheeks as I sag against the ground in relief.

He stands tall and draws his bow once more, the nightmare hunter sinking arrow after arrow into the arachnids. Lori rests her hands on her thighs, and a few deep cuts run along her arms. Jo falls to his knees next to James, the hunter holding his guts in with both hands. "About time he showed up," he murmurs, white as a sheet.

Sweat pearls above my brows, but I force the shock out of my stiff muscles and crawl over to him. "Don't move."

The magic comes quickly as I heal him, and I take care of the wound on my thigh, too. It vanishes quickly, but the venom-laced cut on my arm is unresponsive to my magic, which puts a damper on the hot sense of relief coursing through me.

Jo stands up without a hitch and helps me to my feet. "Thank you, Old World."

The healing hasn't returned all the colors to his cheeks, but he's alright. He shakes out his fists, looking ready to jump back into the fray, but One holds out an arm to stop him. "Wait. Everybody behind me. Now."

Lori slices into one last spider and rushes over to us as Two and Three erupt from the tunnels. The two Fae dash over to flank their brother and raise their arms toward the spiders. In a flash, the monsters stop moving. A couple of them hang in mid-air with their claws out—suspended in time.

A crescent wave of pure shadows spreads out in front of the triplets. The ground shakes. The black void takes tangible form, pulling wispy smog from its center to create a long, deadly weapon. Its sharp edge glistens, devouring the sunlight and burning darker still. The air is heavy with the force of a power I didn't know existed, and I bite my bottom lip as the shadow blade suddenly snaps and springs toward the spiders, killing what's left of them in one sweep.

One finally lowers his bow, his whole body wrapped in darkness, and the onyx-and-gold weapon vanishes into thin air. "That's all of them."

He looks shaken after what he just did, and we all gawk at him in shock and awe.

Lori stares into the empty gardens, her eyes wide, and her breaths quick and uneven. "Are you sure?"

One marches over to me and grazes the blood tainting my clothes with his fingertips, his lips curled down in a sullen pout. "How did they get inside the castle?" he asks Jo, his eyes never leaving me as he takes stock of my injuries.

"We don't know, yet. Mitchell and Fiona were dead before I got here." Jo reports quickly, content to obey the chain of command he so often resents—at least for the time being. "Cary and the sprites are guarding the entrance to the tunnels, so the others are all safe and accounted for except Misha."

"Misha is off-world on assignment," Two adds with a sigh.

"Jo and Lori, barricade the secret entrances and make sure all the sprites are safe," One orders. "Two will check the barrier while Three tends to the dead. I'll take care of Nell's wounds." He squeezes my good shoulder, standing closer than absolutely necessary. "Come on, kitten. I'm taking you to your room."

My eyes narrow. I was ready to let him off the hook because of his heroic rescue, but not if he's about to treat me like a spineless, fragile thing. Everyone else is hurt and exhausted and in shock, too. Why would I be the only one to leave?

"I want to help?—"

He leans closer, his stark tone daring me to argue with his orders. "Now."

I hurry in front of him and blaze toward the tunnels. "You said that we were done and that you had to keep your distance. Well…keep it. I can find my own way."

He presses a hand to the small of my back for a fleeting moment. "We need to deal with the poison in your body, or you'll spend the entire night dry-heaving in a pool of sweat."

"I feel fine."

I know he's right, but for all we know, we might all die before the afternoon is over. If a new wave of spiders comes, or if the king decides he needs to steal my magic and my memories in one breath in order to defeat them, I'm done for.

I'm simply boiling inside, and Cary frowns as we rush past him. "What are my orders, boss? Is the king safe?"

One wraps an arm around my shoulders. "The king is fine. Stay here and guard the tunnels." he croaks, out of breath. He discreetly uses me for support as he chats Cary up about the details of his assignment. That fight must have taken a lot of him, but he clearly doesn't want anyone to notice.

"Wow, Nell. I can feel your magic from here," Cary says with a small smile. "Congratulations."

"Err—Thanks." Now that I have a second to think about it, he's right. The way I healed James and Jo earlier. It was so easy.

"Nell is hurt. She needs rest," One says a little too casually, and I squint at him.

Cary nods and returns his attention to the entrance. I wrap an arm around One in the guise of using him as a crutch, but he's the one who truly needs it. After a good minute, One pulls away, apparently strong enough to walk without my aid.

Why doesn't he want his underlings to know he's in bad shape?

The tunnels are dark and claustrophobic. The stale air and waning light spark a fresh wave of panic inside my heart.

One's fingertips brush the sensitive skin of my hairline as he whispers, "You sprouted faster than any seed ever has. That's a formidable achievement, kitten."

The soft tremble in his voice makes him sound awed and almost…humbled. He doesn't know how my sudden leap in training came to happen, and a fresh wave of guilt brings a sickly sheen of sweat to my forehead. "I kissed Three," I blurt out, red-faced. "For a moment, I thought he was you, and things got out of hand—" I say without looking back, afraid to face his disappointment.

One waves away my tortured admission. "It doesn't matter."

I come to an abrupt stop near my room, my mouth opened in outrage. Whatever negative reaction I expected, this is worse. "It matters to me."

The violence of the fight is still thick in my blood, and I'm not sure if I'd rather kiss him or slap him for acting in such a business-like fashion. The end result doesn't justify what I've done, and I can't stand to see him act so cold and collected about it.

"You're a sprout, now," he insists, dismissing my feelings—and most likely his own—once more. "Nothing else matters."

I move to punch his chest before I can form a conscious thought, but he grips my hand in mid-air.

"Careful now, kitten."

We're just outside my bedroom, and his unforgiving hold forces me to back up until I'm leaning on the door.

One presses our joined hands to my heart, and we both stare at each other for a moment. "Your magic has grown beyond anything I'd imagined. Don't you feel it?" His voice is low and almost…hungry.

The pressure of his hand on my chest mollifies my legs. "I do…"

"You have more magic than me right now." Wicked tremors quake him, but his gaze flicks to my lips.

"What you did out there took a lot out of you."

"It cost me everything." He leans in and rests his forehead on mine, but he doesn't kiss me. Instead, he reaches for the doorknob with his free hand and pushes me inside. The lock clicks behind us, and the sound brands my neck with gooseflesh.

The contrast between the death and terror we just witnessed outside and this oasis of safety is maddening.

"Remove your shirt so I can take a better look at this." He motions to my injured shoulder, and I bite the insides of my cheeks.

Did he truly only come in here with me to deal with the venom?

The adrenaline from the attack fizzles out, and a heavy ache blossoms in my arms and legs. I take stock of the bite and realize it's much worse than I'd thought. "Can you heal it?"

His breath stirs the hair that escaped my loose braid. "Not without supplies."

"Why not? I healed you from a dreamcatcher cut before," I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

"And that was no small feat in itself, but my wound wasn't full of venom. Lie down so I can get to work." He removes his jacket, discards it at the foot of the bed, and motions for me to lie over the duvet.

I sit and peel off my shirt, but the sports bra underneath shields me from his gaze. The nasty shape of the venom burn coaxes a wince out of me. Black veins snake from the wound, the poison slowly creeping under my skin, and my stomach clenches.

"By the Mother!" I reach out to touch the sensitive flesh only to grimace at the pain. The slight pressure is torture, and my eyes dart over to One, full of fear. "It's already spreading."

"Don't worry, kitten. It'll be better in a few minutes," he whispers. "I can't believe you fought with me all the way over here. It must hurt like the seven hells."

Now that I'm not half as panicked as before, it does burn and itch like fire fleas. "I was too mad at you to notice."

His lips twitch. "I got that."

He lights the candles on the dresser with a flick of the wrist and knocks on the mirror. A few seconds later, Baka flies in with a mortar and pestle in one hand and a few other supplies bunched under her arm.

The sprite's gaze bounces from me to the dark Fae, and she bows in reverence. "I just heard about the attack. Do you want me to tend to her, Samhain?"

One dismisses her offer with a kind smile. "No need. I'll stay. Take care of the others, Baka."

The sprite draws in a breath, her pink eyes full of velvet and sunshine. "Consider it done." The tenderness in her tone sends warm shivers through my body.

One removes his mask and sets it on the nightstand. The soft glow of the waning fire fills the silence, and Two's earlier claim echoes in my ears. One hates Damian. He'd be willing to steal you away from any king, but he can't. At least not alone…

"Is Samhain your real name?" I ask.

One doesn't miss a beat as he mixes the herbs with an oily elixir. "No. In ancient Fae, Samhain means darker half." He warms the contents of the mortar over the embers. The rescue might have drained his magic, but he's still mesmerizing.

The light of the fire caresses his proud jaw, and a hint of sweat beads over his split brow.

"Why did you not want them to know how exhausted you were out there? Why hide it?" I ask.

"I can't afford to be weak right now." He stirs the mixture again and returns it to the fire. "The king needs you safe now more than ever. He can't afford to lose the bet if you die. You have to go home, Nell. Until Morheim starts."

My eyes widen. "I thought the king wanted me here for the first Morheim moon?"

From my perspective, the chances that this attack will change the king's designs toward me are null. If anything, he's going to need my magic even more.

Shadows flicker over One's pensive face, playing hide and seek with his cheekbones. "Who knows what the king wants anymore…"

I sit up and prop a few pillows at my back. "I can't leave you, Lori, and the others to face the nightmares alone."

One sits close to me on the bed and wipes off the venom burns with a wet cloth. He moves with confidence, and yet his touch is gentle enough to mollify my bones. "Don't move. It might sting a little."

He spreads the salve over my throbbing skin with his fingers, and I grit my teeth at the heat. The mixture of herbs quickly coats the venom-infected burn, and in an instant, I feel a thousand times lighter.

A sigh of relief escapes me as I relax into the pillows. "Thank you." The ointment quickly hardens over my skin as it cools.

One lays down the salve and cloth on the bedside table. "Morheim might be depicted in your books as this terribly anxious time, but for us, it's sacred. Beautiful. The moon's always full on Morheim, and when she reaches that apex in the sky on the first night—it's the most beautiful moment of the year."

The raw emotions dancing in his eyes rake through me, and I wish we could stand under that moon together.

"A full moon sounds lovely, and not very dark," I breathe.

"Shadows do not exist in absolute darkness. Like most things, they need light to grow. Morheim is more than an opportunity to scare young Faen into obedience. It's the foundation of all life. Without it, the sun would never surrender his place in the sky. He's awfully arrogant, you know." He chuckles—mostly to himself. "But Morheim forces him to reflect on his flaws. Without it, he'd burn too bright, scorch our crops, and heat our seas…"

The tip of his index finger curls around the edge of the hardened salve, and he peels it off in one fluid motion. I'm relieved to see nothing but smooth skin underneath.

"There. Good as new." He traces a circle over the new flesh with his thumb, and my belly tightens at the caress.

I rest my hand over his. "Why is Three allowed to touch me, and you aren't?"

A dark shroud clouds his golden gaze, and he retreats by a few inches. "It's complicated."

"I'm in love with you." The admission is guarded despite the sweetness of the words, but I almost died today. I can't afford to keep it to myself anymore.

One stands and extends a hand toward his discarded mask. "You're infatuated with me. There's a difference."

I steal the scarred piece of onyx from his reach and hold it behind my back. "Don't pretend to know how I feel. You're infuriating, hard-working, kind—I know my own heart. I love you."

"You can't love me. I'm nothing." Self-loathing drips from every word as he prowls closer to reclaim his most-prized possession. "I'm barely alive."

I rise to my knees on the bed and grab a fist of his shirt with one hand, right over his heart. "You feel alive to me."

His hand freezes over his mask, his resolve wavering. "I have nothing to offer. I'm a ghost of who I used to be. I?—"

I stand on the mattress. The bed gives me a few inches on him, and I wrap my arms around his neck. There are no songs hidden in his beautiful eyes today, no enchantments waiting to hold me captive. Just fear.

I sink a hand inside his dark hair. "The king needs magic. What if he decides to take mine? Would you let him?" Shivers brand my body as I chuck out the words. "Am I going to forget ever coming here? Will I remember Lori and the others? Will I remember you,or will the king take everything from me?"

One strokes my hips before coaxing me off the bed. My body glides against his as he sets me down, and he presses his forehead to mine. "What if he doesn't have a choice? He can't let the kingdom burn because of Morrigan's army."

My blood races in my veins. "Morrigan? I don't understand. If she's alive—what does she want?"

"Me. But since she can't have me, she'll destroy me." One cups the side of my face and traces the shape of my lips with his thumb. "She can't ever know about you."

"Why not?"

"Because you're the first thing since that damned curse that makes me feel whole," he growls.

"And that's bad?"

"Very bad." He nips my bottom lip. "The worst." His voice is low and fragmented, like I'm about to wrench a secret from the depths of his soul.

"Why?"

He finally presses his lips to mine. "Because I'd die to have you."

The sweet pressure of his tongue blows all thoughts of Morrigan out of my mind.

All thoughts of my old life, my old self, and then some.

I melt into the kiss as One falls forward on top of me, his weight pinning me down on the mattress. His leg sneaks between my thighs as he pulls me up and aligns my head with the pillows. I'm hanging on for his next breath, his next moan, his next kiss. If lust does that to mortals, I'm not at all against it. It's a clarity I've never known. My body roars for what it craves, even beyond reason. It was good in the Dreaming, but it wasn't real.

Thisis real.

I peel his shirt off and spread my legs to make space for him. The feel of his hardness against my inner thigh fills my blood with fire, and I scratch two parallel lines in his shoulder blades. "Stay for the night."

He shakes his head, and the hungry, unsatisfied gleam in his eyes melts me from the inside out. "You don't know what you're asking."

I trace the scar splitting his brow. "Before coming here, I thought Fae were dangerous and wicked. I thought I was coming here to suffer in some evil land that would try and destroy me."

"Evil is a point of view."

"No it's not. There's not a shred of evil in you." I struggle to keep a semblance of composure, and the tremble in my voice grows three times too loud for me to sound confident as I say, "Two said we could be together if—if I agreed to take all three."

One grips my wrists and holds my hands above my head. "He shouldn't have said that."

"Is it true?"

He buries my knuckles even deeper in the pillows, and the dark curve of his mouth sends my pulse flying.

"What would you do with the three of us?" he chokes.

His attempts at deflection only harden my resolve. "Humor me. Is it true?"

The last of the embers twinkle in red and orange hues in the hearth, our fingers still entwined above my head.

"Yes and no…" he trails off regretfully. "Morrigan's curse ensured that I couldn't so easily replace her. I can't feel true compassion, can't love—can't even fuck you properly." He grinds his hip forward, making me doubt his assessment, and my lips part at the friction.

Our noses bump, and I stretch out my neck to kiss him. "Just try. I think it might work."

Two stalks out of the shadows. "Tell her the whole truth—or by the spindle, take a moment to look at yourself."

A third silhouette slowly comes into focus on the other side of the bed, and I hold my breath.

They're all here. And they're not wearing their masks.

Two plops over to the empty space beside us on the bed. "You can't deny it… The four of us together is a tempting idea. With a little luck, it could even break the curse."

My cheek digs into the pillow as I angle my face to him. "Break the curse? Is that possible?"

One lets go of my hands and sits up over me on the bed, his chest rising and falling. My gaze follows the defined muscles of his bare chest down his stomach to the v-cut shapes of his hips, and I lick my lips.

Two shifts to his side next to me and tucks his arm under his head, so close that I could count his eyelashes. "Curses are more like songs than spells. Morrigan wrote the lyrics, but the melody was left to the spindle of the gods. Curses have a loophole—a loose thread that can be unraveled. Clearly, it has something to do with you." His tongue darts out to touch his bottom lip as he leans closer to my ear. "One might be a pessimistic ass, but he has feelings for you. He's hard for you—even though that should be impossible. You're a game changer, pet, but it terrifies him."

One jumps to his feet and covers the obvious bulge in his pants with one hand. "It can't be as easy as that."

"You don't know. Her magic is growing beyond what any of us had dared to hope. She is drawn to us, and we all yearn for her…" Two rolls the end of my braid between his index finger and thumb. "If we manage to break the curse, the king won't have to steal her magic and make her forget she ever set foot in Faerie."

The shimmer of silver and gold that frames his pupils softens. Two is difficult and rude and a tiny bit evil, but in this moment, I can almost believe he cares for me.

Three feeds a few pieces of wood to the fire and moves to sit on the opposite side of the bed. His hand curls around my shoulder like a promise.

One looks as if he's about to tear his brothers off my bed, but I extend my arm in his direction. Flames flicker over his handsome face as he considers my offered hand, but the most stubborn of the bunch still holds out.

Two loses patience first. "Alright, let's vote. All those in favor of getting naked together to see if it'll break the curse, say aye."

Three flips his brother off with a warm chuckle, and the tender touch of his fingers along the ridges of my spine clears up any doubt I could've had on where his vote lies.

"No," One growls.

I make my way to my infuriatingly stubborn darker half. "Aye." I entwine our fingers to show him I mean it and tug him closer.

Sometimes, the only thing left to do is take a leap.