I reach a hand up to turn his face toward mine. His expression is pained. I have to make that go away. I press my lips against his. He doesn’t resist. The feel of his mouth against mine, the taste of his breath, it’s an exquisite combination of the exotic and the familiar, and when he shudders, I deepen the kiss. I pour myself into it, ignoring the tangle of emotions sitting alone somewhere in the palace.

Aren murmurs my name. He murmurs it over and over as he gives in to me. His hands go to my hips. He pulls me away from the edge of the palace and closer to him. Pressed together like this, on our knees, with no space between our bodies, I can feel just how much he wants me.

The edarratae are alive inside of me. I move my lips to the curve of Aren’s jaw, then to the base of his neck, transferring little shocks of lightning to him with my kisses. He’s still so tense, though. I run my palms down his biceps.

“Aren.” It’s the softest whisper, but once his name touches the air, I’ve lost him. His grip on my hip isn’t pulling me closer now, it’s holding me away.

He puts an inch of space between us; it feels like a gulf.

“I love you,” he says. “Sidhe, I love you, but I can’t do this. You’re his, McKenzie.”

Those last words hit me like a physical assault. I’m still holding on to Aren’s arms, but like him, I’m not pulling him closer anymore.

“Kelia wasn’t Lorn’s,” I say. My voice sounds frigid to my ears.

“Kelia never loved Lorn.” He releases me to stand.

I stand, too. “You’re holding my past against me.” He has no right to say who I belong to.

He faces the Imyth Sea. “You should talk to him.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“He could explain the bond,” he continues. “You could work things out.”

“Work things out?” I ask, feeling the coldness in my voice seep into the rest of my body. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He looks over my shoulder. His expression is closed off.

“You’re pushing me into his arms.”

“I’m giving you the freedom to choose,” he counters. “You need time, McKenzie, to understand the bond.”

“You’ve already given me all the time I need.”

“Please, go.” He says those two words as if they mean The End. My throat closes up. The Silver Palace is Lena’s now. Aren and I should be celebrating. We should be in each other’s arms, wrapped in lightning and loving each other. We should be laughing. We shouldn’t be breaking up. But there’s a finality in the way he turns his back on me to lock his gaze on the sea once again.

“This is your decision, Aren,” I say softly. “It isn’t mine.”

I don’t want to walk away from him, but I do, leaving the roof and heading…I don’t know where. I half expect Aren to realize his mistake and to come running after me. That’s what should happen. He’s risked his life for me over and over again, but he’s giving up on me because of this life-bond? I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t ask to be linked to Kyol like this.

I swallow as a wave of pain rushes over me. It’s hard to tell how much of it is Kyol’s and how much is mine. He lied when we were in Spier. He said he was okay, that he accepted and understood my decision to leave him, but he wasn’t okay. Every second he’s been near me, every second I’ve spent with Aren…I’ve been hurting him this whole time.

I bite the inside of my lower lip, focusing on that pain instead of the other. I’m not ready to talk to Kyol yet.

“McKenzie.” Naito’s voice pulls me out of a daze I didn’t know I’d fallen into, but I’m not on the roof anymore, not even on the stairs leading back into the palace. I’m in the sculpture garden, and Naito is off to my left, sitting on the floor with his back against a square, ivory planter.

I walk toward him, and say, “Hey,” when I sink to the floor beside him.

“You doing all right?” he asks. That’s the question everyone’s been asking him off and on these last few weeks. I answer the same way he does most of the time, with a shrug.

He toys with a frayed hole in his jeans. “Kelia said it was easier to ignore Lorn when they were in separate worlds.”

Kelia said. Past tense. And there was a certain acceptance in the way he said her name. He’s still hurting, but he’s healing.

“I’m sorry we can’t bring her back,” I say.

“We knew there was a chance…” He stops, clears his throat. “I thought I’d be the one to die. She’s fae. She could fissure out if she got into trouble.”

I wrap my arms around my bent knees. “Do you ever wish you’d never come to this world?”

He gives a short, humorless laugh. “If I hadn’t come to the Realm, I’d still be one of my father’s pawns.”

He doesn’t regret killing Nakano. Good.

“What will the rest of the vigilantes do now?” I ask.

“The same thing a cult would do if their leader died. Some of them will find new lives. Some of them will continue to hate and hunt the fae. And, apparently, in a few months, some of them will die.”

“Paige has the tablet I took from the compound. She’s going to give it to a friend of hers. Maybe they’ll find a way to live.”

“I hope so,” he says. “My brother…We never got along. My father all but ignored him because he couldn’t see the fae. Lee went off to school a few years ago. I don’t know why he went back home. He shouldn’t have.”

There are a lot of shouldn’t haves when it comes to the fae, and to life in general.

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Paige,” I tell him as I stand.

“You’re going to leave, then?” he asks, looking up.

“Yeah. For a while,” I tell him. I wish I knew how long that while will be.

TWENTY-NINE

LENA FISSURES ME to my Vegas suite. She’s been meeting with nobles and merchants and normal citizens with complaints every hour since she was voted the interim ruler of the Realm. I think she’s here because she needs a break, just a few minutes without someone beating on her door to remind her of issues and obligations.

She sets the anchor-stone we used to fissure here on the center of the coffee table. She’s never been here before. She takes in the balconied window, the elegant pictures of the city—black and white except for touches of reds and yellows here and there—hanging on the wall, and the tech scattered about the room. Her gaze rests on the flat-screen TV a few steps in front of her. It’s not on, but her edarratae register the power running through the cord. I keep unplugging it; the maids keep plugging it back in.

“What will you do?” she asks, turning her back on the tech.

I set a satchel down on the couch. It contains my photo album and a few other trinkets. I cleaned out my room at the palace.

“Sleep,” I answer. “Enroll in a local college. Maybe look for a job. An apartment.” Shane was looking for a place for us to live. He said he found a house for rent, but I don’t know where. None of the fae Lena sent to London has seen him. “I’ll try to find out what happened to Shane.”