Page 17 of The Fae Lord

He is here.

I see him.

Blue lights swirl around him, like the water that swirls around me. They have become dancing fireflies, zipping up over his body, illuminating the cords of muscle on his chest and the rivets above his hips.

His wings stretch out to either side of his body, into the trees. They glow, too.

I am transfixed by him. I cannot look away. Visions of Eldrion ripping those beautiful wings from Kayan’s body and throwing him over the parapet of the castle pummel my eyes. Pain racks my body, but when I open my eyes again, Kayan is smiling at me.

He reaches out his hand.

I walk towards him, and then the voice in my head changes. It solidifies. Becomes real. It is him. It was Kayan speaking to me, all this time.

I float towards him above the ground, my wings fluttering with the anticipation of being close to him again.

But then his body shimmers. Literally becomes translucent before becoming real again, and I realise it is not him. He is not here.

“Is it you”? I whisper.

He does not answer, just keeps his hand outstretched for me to come closer. I move towards him, and when I finally take his hand, the water and the lights swirl around us both, tying our limbs together.

I feel him, and yet I do not feel him. He’s there but he is not there.

I shudder violently. A rush of something that feels like cold air sweeps like a tornado through my veins, wrapping around my muscles and my bones and every sinew in between.

Kayan looks down into my eyes.

“Is it you?” I whisper.

Again, he doesn’t speak, but he moves closer. With his other hand, he touches my face.

His skin is darker than it was, and it does not look real. It shimmers, but it is both light and dark at the same time, like he is made of the shadows that appear at twilight.

Blue shadows.

Shadows and water.

His wings beat slowly, but no breeze touches my face.

I look down at his hand. I cannot feel him. I am imagining him. Surely?

“It is me.” Finally, he speaks. He leans in close to my ear, but there is no breath. No warmth.

I find myself wishing he would slide his hand into my robe and touch me there. Anywhere. Everywhere. So I can feel him. But he does not.

“It is me,” he says again.

I stare into his eyes. I recognise those eyes. I would know them anywhere, but I do not trust myself. I can’t. This could be a trick. Eldrion could be doing this, he could have infected my mind.

Or perhaps the forest.

Or the Shadowkind.

Something.

Someone.

As if he can tell my thoughts are spiralling, Kayan dips his head to catch my gaze.