RUIN

I jerk awake and cough. It smells like incense and the ground is cold beneath me. Tobiah's hand is in mine and when I look him over, he's very pale and not moving. I swallow, grasping for memories that I know are there. Something big happened because I saw his true form. I can't remember what, but it was something big. Whatever conversation we had made me love him more and I need to see him awake.

"Tobiah?" I ask and reach over, shaking him. "To—"

"Your Grace," Shatterjaw kneels, concern plastered on her face. "Are you alright?"

I consider and blink.

"What time is it?" I ask, thoroughly disoriented by my conversation with Magnum and then… something had happened. Fuck.

"Almost eight at night," she says. "You've been out a while."

"Can… I have some tea?" I ask, watching Tobiah's chest lift and fall shallowly, anxiety eating at me like an unforgiving troll.

"Yes. Food too," Shatterjaw says and gets up.

While she's gone, I lean over to kiss Tobiah's cheek.

"Hey, handsome, time to get up," I coax. "Please? For me?"

There's a moment of silence and then he sighs and blinks awake, coughing. Relieved, I sit back and his bright ocean eyes look at me guardedly.

Something strikes me. His eyes shouldn't be ocean. They're actually… pink —a beautiful pink so incandescent and pure that it looks like the dawn on the most beautiful of days.

I startle and lean back, suddenly remembering his other form. His real form. He isn't even just a fae, he's a fucking hot fae whose attractiveness could send kingdoms to war. His thick auburn curls would feel so good in my hands and his horns could be used to—

—fuck, this is so embarrassing.

Tobiah sits up and my cheeks are so warm that I can't look at him. He'll know. There's no way he wouldn't.

I sigh and rub my face. I suppose this means we must have a conversation, and I absently cast a privacy bubble so that none can hear us.

Do I really care that he's fae? I mean, somewhat. He could be working for the monarchy and that wouldn't be good for anyone. He might be assessing weaknesses that humans have and that would be just bad. But… he seems to genuinely dislike his people. He kept saying "my people" instead of "elves" and everything he's said about them so far has been overwhelmingly negative. His casting ability is incredible, but that only makes sense. From the way he was crying… he holds nothing but shame and that… that saddens me.

I'm definitely pissed that I had sex with a fake version of him and that's just… upsetting. This form is hot too, but it has nothing on his real one. It also feels like he was disingenuous and that doesn't feel great. Yet, I can understand why he would come to me in the form of an elf. Elves are trusted more than fae any day and he needed help. My help. And gods know what he's running from, because he is running. I know it in my bones. Since meeting him, I've felt that he's hiding something and now I know what. It's a big something.

But do I think he's a threat? Of course. Do I think he's a threat to me? To us? No. Not at all. He's been nothing but helpful and has only taken care of me when I've needed it. I have no doubt that he could have flattened the Galaens once he awoke, but he chose not to. He could have forced us to go along whatever plans he might have, but instead, he's been with me every step of the way, supporting us.

So why is he here at all? Why would such a powerful creature align himself with us?

"Ruin?" Tobiah is sitting across the room, having moved while I was sorting through my thoughts. He looks withdrawn and pale, like he's expecting he's in trouble.

I look him over carefully, unsure of what to say. Nothing seems adequate.

"Do… you want me to leave?" He whispers, looking at his pale hands and now that I know what his true, stunning cedar skin looks like, the white tone seems an affront. "I can leave."

"No!" I gasp with more force than I knew I had. "No. Don't. Please. I… I'm just processing."

He shrinks a bit at that, as if the closer together his limbs are, the safer he'll be.

Shatterjaw enters with food and looks at Tobiah, startled.

"You okay?"

He nods and doesn't look at her. Her brow furrows and she sets down the food on the bed, so I move over there.

"I'll be back with more," she says quietly and leaves.

The food smells and looks delicious, but my stomach is twisting so much that I don't know if I can eat it. After a moment, I abandon it and go over to Tobiah, kneeling in front of him quietly. He watches like a caged animal.

"I don't think you are, but I have to ask," I say gently. "Are you working for the fae government in any capacity?"

He snorts.

"No. Not even a little bit."

I nod.

"Okay."

He jerks, eyes wide.

"Okay?"

I shrug.

"That's the big question, isn't it? Well… besides why yo u're here in the first place, anyway." I search his face and he blushes, looking away. He doesn't answer for so long that I have to prompt him. "Tobiah, I need to know. Why are you here?"

He watches me like a wounded animal watches someone determined to help them. He seems to be out of words at the moment, so I stand and turn away, feeling his eyes on me.

I cross the room and it somehow feels like I've gone too far from him and I don't know why. I need to stay rational and being too close is hurting my ability to think and I don't know why that is either. So I sit down on the bed opposite him and pull the bowl of venison stew onto my lap. It comes with fry bread and a rich, dark wine. I consider him as I drink the wine and put it down a moment later, shrugging.

"You must be hiding for a reason and you're so jumpy that I don't think you're hiding for my benefit. I think it's for yours," I say simply. "And you kind of hate fae, don't you? I don't think that was posturing."

He sighs softly, coming back to himself.

"I… do hate fae and… they hate me too," he admits in a voice so small that he doesn't even sound like himself, which is off-putting. I'm not sure what he expected from me, but if he's looking for anger, he won't find it here.

Well… not yet, at least. I can be angry after I'm done being tactical.

It sucks being me.

I look at him for a long moment, eating the stew carefully. Shatterjaw comes in with a tray for Tobiah—is that even his real name?—and I can tell she wants to stick around, but I dismiss her and reinforce the privacy bubble, just to make sure.

"Why is that?" I ask after I know we're safe. "Why do they hate you?"

Tobiah bites his cheek and sighs softly.

"I am… a well-known rebel. I hate the monarchy and th ink that if the Fae were halfway decent people, they would leave this world to its own affairs and move on."

I raise an eyebrow at that.

"Not a very Fae sentiment."

He snorts at that and nods.

"Trust me, I fucking know."

"Why are you here? With me? Why work with the elves and their magical research?"

He still hasn't touched his food, shying away from it as if he's sick. He hugs himself tighter, shifting uncomfortably. I hate to see him this way, but these are questions that must be answered.

"I am invested in what happens in this world and I believe my people have had a hand in the magical decrease that has been observed. I want to monitor and evaluate."

I cock my head at that, completely puzzled.

"How?"

He sighs, looking very small.

"I believe that with the binding of dragons comes the binding of magic and you cannot have one without the other. Not for very long at least. But I do not have the evidence to support that claim."

I scowl.

"So you knew about the dragon situation and you let me prattle on like a fool? Good gods."

He looks up, amused, a smile on his lips.

"I love it when you explain things. You are so earnest. It is… precious."

What the fuck.

My cheeks are hot again and I look away, embarrassed as shit.

"Well, that's just…" I huff, trying to think of a proper response. "You know what, fuck you."

He laughs.

"And eat your damn food, fairy," I snap and he laughs more, the sound making me shiver .

"This conversation isn't over," I say severely, remembering his fathomless, glowing eyes and thick curls. "Not… not by a long shot."

He looks at me pensively, his blue eyes, which now look fake, large and guileless.

"You… do not think… I am…" He swallows. "… ugly?"

I choke on my water and cough violently, dismissing the idea with a wave. I can't look at him and my cheeks just heat up more.

"No… that's not… you're not, uh, ugly. That's not… what I thought."

I hear him shift and start to eat as I stare dutifully at the floor, hoping he hasn't caught on.

"You have the… what is it called? The ‘hots'? Yes. You have the hots for me," he says seriously, and my head snaps up as I gape at him. He looks bemused, damn him.

"I… can't deny there is a… no, no, no," I stand up hurriedly and he snorts. It's hard to tell what he's feeling most of the time, but I'm certain he's laughing at me, albeit politely.

"I'm not going to indulge your… UGH!"

I can't put it into words. If he knows how badly I want him, then I'm just an easy floozy and no one really wants that. Our relationship will last one point five pumps and that's not what I want. What I want is… you know what? Fuck him. Because what I want is him, faeness and all.

Shit.

He's laughing as I step out and the night air embraces me.

Gods. This is getting complicated.

And what the hells do I tell Shatterjaw?

Do I tell Shatterjaw?

Fuck my life.