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Perhaps it was because he loved her that he knew he would never ask her to stay. He would never give her the choice.
Gwendolyn deserved more than shadows.
Gwen stared into the fire, her book propped on her lap, open to the same page for way too long. She hadn’t actually been reading. Instead, her mind had been drifting. Remembering last night with Sirus. The kiss she’d stolen from him in the hall this morning, after breakfast. The little growl he’d made.
She felt happier than she’d ever felt in her whole life. Every minute she spent with Sirus made her heart swell. Slowly, they’d begun to open up to each other, but over the last few days it was like a dam had broken. For hours they would talk, make love, talk more. To be fair, she did most of the talking, but he was always asking questions. Listening. Poking fun at her in that bone dry way of his.
It was still wild to her that Sirus had never cuddled nor slept next to one of his lovers before. That first night, he’d been ready to take off without a second thought. She wanted to be mad for him. Angry that he’d grown so used to such rejection, had expected it. And she was mad, a little. She also felt a little special knowing she’d been his first.
Gwen’s cheeks warmed, a little flutter spreading through her stomach. It was the part of the night she cherished most. The feeling of his warm, muscled body wrapped around hers as she drifted off to sleep.
She was in love with him. It scared the ever-living crap out of her, but there was no denying it at this point. She had it, and she had it bad. The bigger problem was, she had no idea how she was going to tell him.
She’d gotten pretty used to his silence at this point, but the idea of her confessing her love and him looking at her all icy and stoic made her stomach queasy.
“Are you feeling alright, darling?” Levian asked, drawing Gwen out of her head.
“Hm?” she mumbled, sitting up in the armchair she’d been lounging in. “Oh, yeah. Just tired.”
Levian was scuttling around the library, grabbing this and that. It was only half past eleven. The group wouldn’t leave for The Prison for another half hour, but it was all anyone had been talking about all day. Gwen’s stomach knotted, and she closed her book. There was no point, really.
She stood, stretched, and strolled over to Levian, who was tapping her long nails on the tabletop, her face twisted, as if trying to remember something.
“Need some help?” Gwen asked.
“No. No,” Levian assured her as she began to rummage through a pile of papers. “It’s just the dampening spells and I’m trying to find—Ah! Here it is!” she chimed, snatching the paper she’d been hunting.
Gwen smirked, watching the mage dart off to add the paper to her pile. Levian was dressed in a pair of dark pants, a sage green button-down top, and a knit sweater. Her braids were piled messily on top of her head and wrapped in a scarf. She looked more like a librarian than her usual sexy, femme, ethereal self—not that she wasn’t still gorgeous and ethereal. But she’d definitely had to borrow some clothes from Niah to put this outfit together.
“Are you sure about all this?” Gwen couldn’t help but ask again. She knew Levian wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for her, and she couldn’t help but feel more than a little guilty.
The mage stopped her rummaging and eyed Gwen impatiently. “Of course I’m sure. We need answers, and I’m going to get them however I must.”
Gwen nibbled her lip. She wanted answers too, but knowing Levian was about to travel to the bowels of the earth to visit her incarcerated father in an enchanted faerie prison to get them wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. She’d wanted to go with them when she found out about their plan, but everyone had unanimously voted against it—it being extremely dangerous and her being mortal and all that. It annoyed her beyond sense. Even if she was staying behind with Sirus.
Levin clearly read the skepticism on Gwen’s face and rolled her eyes. “You’re as bad as Barith.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Anyway, it’s not just about you. This is long overdue, seeing my father. My mother has been harping at me to do it for years. To make peace or whatever. Though I suspect she’s hoping I’ll put some kind of gruesome curse on him while I’m there. Preferably something painful.”
“Your mom sounds like she’s pretty hardcore.”
The mage laughed as she flipped through a giant book on one of the tables, that weird burnt skull with the gold symbols resting at her elbow. “That’s putting it mildly. But yes, she’s a force not easy to ignore. Merlin is lucky the fae imprisoned him before my mother got a crack at him. You’ll get to meet her in the Veil.”
Gwen’s stomach sank. “Oh. Cool,” she said, not sounding at all excited.
The mage glared up from her book. “You still don’t seem thrilled with the prospect,” she observed.
Levian had been the one to gush on and on to Gwen about how wonderful the Veil was. How it was a great honor to be allowed within the dryads’ sacred city.
“It’s just weird to think about,” Gwen replied, trying to play it off. “The idea of going to stay in a hidden faerie city.”
“It will be an adjustment,” Levian admitted, shoving the book into her enchanted bag, along with several other things. “But I assumed you’d be ready to settle yourself somewhere, at least for a little while.”
Gwen was ready to be settled. Only she felt pretty settled where she was. “Do you see her much? Your mom?”
“Not very,” Levian replied with a tinge of sadness. “She doesn’t leave often, and coordinating a visit is tedious, as you can imagine.”
Getting in and out of the Veil was basically impossible without a direct escort, which was hard to come by, apparently. It was why Gwen was still here at Volkov. Though Levian had warned her it could be any minute of any day that they decided to finally come for her. It had put Gwen on edge at first, but the more time that went by, the less worried she’d been. Levian had also told her it could take months.
“You miss her?”
