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“Come on,” he said at last, his body gliding toward the door.

TAINTED| CHAPTER 24

Amazing Grace

Alexander’s POV

Valentina’s curtain of white curls followed behind her as she sped through the snow.

The yellow of her dress was stained with mud from the tunnel, but the scent that trailed behind her was intoxicating. It didn’t matter if earth was mixed in with her burnt sugar. I breathed it in, savoring the trace of her. Each time she faded into the distance, my heart clenched tight. It almost stole the air from my chest. It scared me how much of my mind belonged to her in such a short time.

As she stepped onto the path and tossed her veil over her eyes, she gave our direction one final glance before disappearing beyond the gate. The moment she vanished beyond it, my heart quickened. What if something happened? Nothing could happen if she were home. She was safe; she was just making sure I was safe. Wiping a hand over my face, I turned to my mother and let a grin tug at my lips. “I’m not sure how long her ‘moments’ actually are,” I murmured.

Martha had been watching me with that soft knowing smile. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was touched by the sight. I never brought a girl around her before. I was always too afraid she’d get attached to the wrong one. Hell, I didn’t want to take things too seriously with anyone, either. It’s not that I believed in fairytales or that I’d get a princess. Even the girl I lost my virginity to wasn’t right. It was just there. But with Valentina... She had forced her way into my family dynamic from day one. It wasn’t my first choice in how it would have happened. Yet I wouldn’t change it.

“No worries,” my mother murmured, stepping closer to me. “I’m just glad I get to spend a moment with you.” Her hand found my arm, fingers brushing over the wool of my sleeve. “Besides… she’s beyond ordinary beauty. I’d expect her ‘moment’ to last at least an hour.” My mother’s laugh rang through the air like small bells, carving lines of joy into her face. She looked just as I remembered from my childhood, with long brown hair she kept straight most days, skin warm and radiant.

The distance between us vanished as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her into my warmth. She clung to my waist, returning the embrace. For a moment, we simply stood there, letting the past week settle over us. It had been an adventure neither of us planned. Wind whistled past our ears, humming a slow melody as gray clouds began to weep white glitter from their depths. Lifting my cloak above her head, I tried shielding her from the cold.

“How are you holding up?” I quietly asked. “I haven’t really had the chance to ask.”

Martha tilted her head to the side, hair spilling over her shoulder like silk. For a moment, my mother’s brow drew together, as if weighing the truth behind my question. She didn’t answer it. Instead, a small, warm laugh escaped her lips. “I could ask you the same. The last time I saw you, you were a teenager. And now…” Her hand lifted, tracing the air to measure my height before falling again. “Now here you are, the grown version of the boy I raised.” The tone carried a particular sorrow only a mother could know. “It feels like I’ve missed so much.”

A half-hearted chuckle slipped out of me as my gaze softened on her face. She had reclaimed her youth. Soft. Timeless. I wasn’t the only one who had changed.

“Then you must’ve been dipped in the fountain of everlasting life,” I challenged with another half grin. “Look at you. I remember thinking you looked young when I was a kid… but now, wow. You’re beautiful.” Looking at her now, it brought back warm memories of just being whole. Even though things had changed, I didn’t want her to lose the person she knew before this. I was worried about her feeling different. I hadn't stopped to think how she saw me.

I wanted to tell her everything that had happened this week. But I couldn’t bring myself to explain everything I’d learned. I trusted Martha with my life, but some truths needed to be carried alone. It wasn’t even a second thought to keep it all to myself. I didn’t want to warp the version of me she already felt she lost. Somehow, it felt safer that way. Keeping my newly turned parents in the dark meant fewer people would be tangled in this web. That was better. They deserved new starts, not to be plagued with what I had to face.

Mark was more complicated. I didn’t want him wrapped in this mess, no, but I didn’t know where to place my feelings. Beyond my feelings, he caused that fire. The moment I saw those flames, something inside me shifted. It hadn’t been shocking… not exactly. It was more like recognition. Like a premonition I’d already lived through but couldn’t place in memory.

A soft chuckle hummed through my mother’s chest, breaking my thoughts from the quiet spiral of guilt. Her hand rose to her face, brushing her cheek as though she could feel her reflection in the wind. “You’re right,” she agreed. “I guess we’ve both gone through some changes.” Her voice drifted into the cold air, fading until silence stretched between us. Martha drew in a deep breath; her voice trembled. “You’re not mad at me for keeping this from you? About your dad, Mark, I mean.” Her gaze searched mine for forgiveness, for any sign of resentment.

It took me a moment to answer. My mouth parted, then closed. It wasn’t because I was angry. I was just surprised she’d think I could ever be. Initially was I hurt she withheld information from me? Yes. But there was a bigger picture to her misguidance. Then she had stayed with me through everything. It wasn’t just this last year, but my entire life. She was never judging, never abusive. My mother only had the capacity for love. There wasn’t a trace of hate in my heart for her. There was only the love she’d planted there.

Her knowing about Mark… yeah, it stung a little. I thought we were close enough to share those kinds of secrets, to carry each other’s burdens. But if I put myself in her place… would I have told my child everything? Probably not. It was a fair question, but a hard one. How could I fault her for a choice I might have made too?

If I was being honest, this had Mark written all over it. He probably told her to keep it to herself, not knowing how anything would unfold. That was exactly the kind of man he’d always been, making someone else carry the weight of his actions. Just like he did after losing their first son.

Shaking my head gently, I forced the bitterness away. I couldn’t let myself sit in that space too long; it made my skin feel too tight, my chest too small. “Never,” I finally managed, my voice steady enough to reassure her. “I could never be mad at you.” Warmth curled through the air between us, my words wrapping around her like a blanket.

“Are you mad at your dad?” she asked softly, worry creasing her expression.

She always knew how to ask the right question at the wrong time. Was I mad? I wasn’t sure. I could choose to be the bigger man. I could offer grace for the lies, for the abandonment. I could forgive him for disappearing for a year, for missing my graduation, for not being there on my first day of college. For every game he didn’t show up to, even after I begged. And for every time he did show up, only when the newspapers were there to capture my moment.

On the outside, Mark was charming. Quiet. Hardworking. The picture of a good man. The all-American father. It was how he chose to show up that made me question if there was anything beneath the surface. So no, I couldn’t say I wasn’t mad. But I couldn’t say I was, either.

Sliding another small smirk onto my face. “I’m working on it.” Lying to her didn’t feel right, but admitting this small truth seemed better than keeping it bottled. My gaze dropped to the fresh snow dusting the leather of my boots. Kicking through the pile, my gaze lifted back to her.

Martha reached for my hands, her fingers soft but steady as she enclosed both of mine within her palms. Gracefully, she lifted them to her lips, pressing a kiss to each knuckle. “I can’t make you feel anything other than what you do,” she whispered. “But what I do know, my son… is that you’ll always be able to place your trust in me.” Letting our hands fall apart, she gave me space to think. Without another word, we sank down beneath neighboring trees, not side by side, but close enough. She always knew when I needed quiet more than comfort.

I pulled the hood of my coat up over my head, shielding myself from the falling crystals and from the world. Folding myself inward, I let the cold bite at the edges of my thoughts.

The Delatrus Hamish and Orprus Fionn kept ringing inside my ear. The way Delatrus had spoken of a time long gone was heartbreaking. I wondered how old Hamish truly was. He couldn’t have been much older than me, yet he carried centuries in his voice. He bore the weight of a leader-to-be, carrying the knowledge of what was lost before him. I knew he must have felt that burden, being next, yet never knowing what next truly meant.

I tried to imagine him as a child, his rose-colored skin glowing beneath the earth, his long ears bouncing with each step. Then I tried to imagine any child in this realm. I remembered myself as a boy, innocent and eager to take on the world. Everything felt so new and free. Valentina grew up like that? She likely had only one circle of friends, maybe none at all. It would’ve been beautiful if she’d had more, but I felt like I was being wishful with the thought.

Would there have been teenagers wandering the roads at this hour? Would the kingdom echo with their laughter? Would this forest be wrapped in spring instead of snow?