Chapter 21

Twenty-One

WESLEY

T he warmth of the sun eased me awake from a dreamless and finally restful sleep. I blinked several times to find a shirt draped over my face blocking out the bulk of the brightness. A cool breeze picked up and I could sense the sky beginning to darken. I must have slept the day away.

I lifted the shirt and gazed at a collection of sticks haphazardly thrown together to help ease the light. If I moved too much, I suspected the thing would fall. Why hadn’t he gone back to the tree?

My magic swirled in strong waves, as if it were happy to be back. I slid my glamour around me in a thin protective shield as well as the illusion of clothing and climbed out of the tiny hut. Finn lay a dozen yards away, looking relaxed, spread out in the dying sunbeams as if he were a cat sunning himself.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up. “You’re awake.”

“Where are we?”

“No idea. I wandered for a bit, trying to find the tree, but couldn’t. Made do with what I could find. Sorry. I’m not a prepper or anything. I know hiking and basic camping, but surviving without any supplies is not my strength.” He looked tired, bags under his eyes, lips chapped from lack of water, and shoulders hunched inward as if to hide the concave emptiness of his stomach. He was shirtless and the dark blotch of the mark on his back carved itself all the way over his shoulders and onto his chest, even wrapping around his throat.

I gasped at seeing the way the mark had grown. How? Why? I reached for him, but he cringed and I stopped. “Sorry. I was going to examine the mark.”

“I can’t feel it,” Finn said. “Any of it. My skin where it touches me. Or anything really. I was really afraid for a while that when it moved over my neck I wouldn’t be able to breathe. But it’s fine. I feel okay. Chilled, numb, but okay.”

“Hungry, thirsty and tired,” I corrected. “You should have woken me when you saw it growing.”

“Do you know how to fix it?” Finn asked.

“No.”

“Then it was better that you slept.” He studied me. “You look better. Not as pale.” He waved his hand at my outfit. “Dressed in clean clothes.”

“Glamour. It’s a minor shield, not real physical clothes. It would keep out a drizzle or the subtle breeze blowing right now, but it won’t help if it downpours or freezes.” I sat down beside him, letting him have a solid personal bubble. “Thank you.” I instantly cursed myself for uttering those words. Sebastian’s lax court having unraveled my careful control over my tongue. But Finn was human and no sense of magic obligation rippled around me.

“I thought the fae weren’t into thank yous?”

“Remember nothing else of the fae, but remember that?”

“It was in a romance where the fae took ownership of the MC for daring to thank him for saving her life.”

“Romanticizing slavery is a trope that never seems to die,” I said. “Sadly, slavery is never cute or romantic.”

“As long as it’s fiction, it’s fine. That’s why I asked. I’m smart enough to understand the difference.” Finn said. “Am I your slave now?”

“You ate the berries I gave you and seem fine.”

Finn shifted the way he sat, to turn in my direction, his pants leg riding up, and the dark blotch covered his ankle too.

“Fuck,” I cursed and pushed up the fabric. “How bad is it?”

“Anywhere the shadow thing touched me,” Finn said. “Growing up my legs where it yanked me into the water, and over my back, spreading from the dream…” He looked away, jaw clenched as if he had a something not nice to say, and I couldn’t blame him for thinking it was my fault. “You said you don’t think I’m human. Can you tell me why now?”

“You feel ordinary to my senses,” I said. “Too ordinary.” I reached out to hover my hand close enough to linger in the space of his aura, but not touch him. “Humans by nature are tainted with the weave of elemental magic. Most are disconnected from the earth, like those who live in big cities often have the least of it, but it touches everyone. With you, I sense nothing.”

“And that means I’m not human?”

“I think someone, or something, is hiding your power.”

“You mean the Autumn king? That shadow wolf-dragon, creepy dude?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I heard that the wolf king was really protective of his children. Maybe you are one of his?”

“Well, that makes him a shit dad then since I spent my whole life without one wondering why someone would abandon me in the fucking woods.” He sounded bitter and I understood.

“Mine too, oddly enough,” I said. “But elementals do that a lot. Pop out half-breeds they leave to fumble through life.”

“You don’t know your dad, either?”

“I know of him. Only ever spoken to him twice in my life. Elementals don’t think the same way humans or fae do. Which in some ways is good, I suppose. Fae are very selfish, hoarding power and stabbing anyone in the back that would help their cause.”

“Humans, too,” Finn said. “I can’t tell you the number of people I thought were friends who do shit that makes me wonder why I’m not evil. Like when I started my vlog, this dude was faking some ghost shit for views. Then got pissed when I cut his stuff out in editing. He claimed I was faking the stuff I saw, but that was real.”

“Being selfish isn’t inherently evil. Sometimes it’s all we can do to survive.” Like sleeping with the enemy and dancing around the corruption of Underhill. I stared at him, my gut churning with worry over the blotchy darkness spreading over his skin like some magical bruise. “Speaking of survival, we need to find a way to get food and water into you.”

“Hm,” he grunted.

“Very caveman of you. You said you couldn’t find the tree, what about the cabin?”

“Nope. I wandered in circles. Finally gave up because I was too tired to keep going.”

“Dragging my ass around, too.”

He smirked. “Your ass isn’t that heavy.”

“How about I change into the Stag, and we can search for the cabin.”

He sighed, his posture and half lidded eyes would have looked great in my bed, but the exhaustion on his face added to my anxiety. Why hadn’t he rested when I had? “How about I wait here?” Finn offered.

“Every time I leave you alone the shadow wolf attacks.”

“It attacks when you’re with me, too,” he pointed out. “Seems a strange thing to do when it thinks I belong to it. As if I’m its kid or something. What do we need at the cabin? It’s not much use to us burned up.”

“I’m hoping the realm restored it.”

He stared at me.

“Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. This whole world is created from a mix of fae and elemental magic. Weirder things can happen.” I actually prayed the cabin returned to its former glory and inside the cake from Sebastian would still be waiting for me. I’d drag Finn with me somehow. Would Liam and Seb know how to save him? Since I was running out of ideas, I had to find hope somewhere.