Page 81 of The Edge of Darkness

“Perhaps everything you know is flawed,” I said.

She scoffed, not deigning to look at me.

“All of our stories and lore tell us that the fae are ruthless, evil creatures. Some of them are. I have seen firsthand how corrupt and evil they can be. Since being here, I’ve been compelled against my will, attacked, and poisoned. My mate was taken from me, and he was tortured and poisoned as well. I’ve seen creatures that embody an evil that I was oblivious to before, and magic and power that have the ability to take life quicker than a blink.”

The witch’s eyes flicked down at the floor in my direction. I could tell she was still wary, but I’d gained her attention by offering credence to her theories about the fae.

“But I’ve also seen magic that can heal and mend. I’ve watched hope spark to life in the eyes of strangers, knowing someone is willing to fight for what is right. I’ve witnessed compassion, and love, and the bond of friendship and family that I didn’t know the fae were capable of—that anyone was capable of, for that matter. I’ve found my soulmate, and made friends that are now as dear to me as my family was.”

Beside me, Nivelle’s hard face slowly softened, and she fiddled with her fingers.

“Was?” she asked with a hint of curiosity.

My emotions surfaced in my voice as I said, “My mother and father were murdered at the hands of my own kind.”

Her fiddling halted.

“I’d always blamed myself for their deaths. I could have been faster, shouldn’t have hesitated or been distracted. Every would have and could have has crossed my mind a hundred different ways, but the fact of the matter is, it was never my fault. There is evil in this world, and each of us has to face it. It is in every species, every bloodline, somehow, someway. But we cannot let false pretenses force us to believe that every intention is corrupt. There is more good than there is evil, and the good must rise up and overcome.

“We asked for your goddess’s help because any advantage that we have in this war means more lives are saved. If you are unwilling because you harbor some sort of fear or resentment, then that is your issue to wrestle with. But know that it is flawed.”

Nivelle slowly lifted her chin and met my stare.

I didn’t balk; I steadied my voice. “I was powerless back then, but I have power now. And I’ll be damned if I sit by and let evil continue to take innocent lives and inflict harm because of a narrow-minded perception of the world.” I spoke of myself, but the implication was also directed toward her. The words were sharp, aimed at the witch’s heart, but I knew she could take the hit. She needed to hear the words just as much as I needed to speak them.

Never in my life had I thought I would be calling a witch “narrow-minded” to her face, but it was worth the risk.

She studied me, her gray-blue eyes shifting back and forth between mine for a long moment before she finally spoke. “It seems everything I know about this world is true then.”

For a second, I thought the entire speech I’d just given was for nothing, until she released a long sigh through her nose and continued. “But I, like you, detest the works of evil in all its forms.”

I kept quiet, giving her a slow nod in understanding.

“You vouch for this High Lord of yours?”

“I do. He’s my mate. That in itself was hard for me to accept when I first found out. But my views and beliefs of the fae have changed since then, and so have I. His intentions are good. I stake my life on it.”

“I do not doubt you,” she said. “It’s him I am not convinced of.”

I thought back to our trip to The Neveshir Isles. Nivelle and Torin clearly knew something we didn’t. And with everyone else currently preoccupied with other issues, it seemed that it was up to me to investigate this one.

“Torin told Niall his power was birthed from another world. She called him ‘Son of Shadow.’ And at your cottage, you said there was a ‘darkness’ in his blood. What did you mean?”

The witch shifted in her seat. “I feel there is more to your mate’s power than he alludes to.”

“But how are you able to tell that?”

“The world where our goddess and our ancestors hail from is said to be a dark and treacherous place. Every witch who has seen it is long dead, but Skotos will always call to our blood—we are attuned to it. That is how I can sense that what runs in your mate’s blood is not wholly of this world. There is a fae lineage within him, but there is also something much darker, and . . .” She paused. “My senses tell me that it is connected to Skotos.”

“How is that possible?”

She shook her head. “I do not know.”

We sat in silence, all the unspoken unknowns stirring in the space between us. I was thankful that she was willing to speak with me at all, let alone give me the information that she did. But now, I was left with more questions than I had answers, which seemed to always be the case.

Thankful for the progress, and not wanting to push her any further, I faced her fully and said, “I’m grateful for your insight. And I also hope that you’re wrong.”

“So do I,” she said quietly. Her attention snagged on the plate of food that sat untouched, and I noted it.