Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(161)

The bad news was not only was Apollo entirely absent, so was Chris.

Chris had run away because of me.

This was weighing on my mind. I was worried. I was hoping Apollo was giving him what he needed. And I felt powerless because I couldn’t do anything to help.

In fact, it was me that was the reason he hurt.

Knowing I was causing pain to Christophe didn’t suck.

It killed.

That was also weighing on my mind and call me selfish, I knew he had things weighing on his mind too, but Apollo had to know it.

And still he attacked.

I’d thought on it (and thought on it) and there was no way to twist what Apollo had said into being understandable.

It just wasn’t right.

During her visit the day before, I had learned that Circe and Lahn, with Zahnin and Bain as Circe’s personal guard, had been transported here by Valentine.

I say Circe’s guard because Lahn didn’t need a guard. He was a one man guard all on his own and only a fool would attack that man. I mean, those birds didn’t even attempt to peck away at him and they were brainless creatures formed from magic but still, they knew better than to even try.

Circe told me that upon arrival in Lunwyn, Valentine had immediately sensed I was in danger and Lahn, Zahnin, Bain (with Lahn bringing Circe along because he refused to be far from her) sprang to my rescue without telling Apollo or anyone they were here.

Apparently, the ritual Circe was conducting to recoup her powers had gone a lot faster than expected. Since Valentine was already there to tell them she was moving them all to Lunwyn when it was finished, she’d just moved them all to Lunwyn.

The real Cora and Tor were with them but could not come because he had something pressing happening, seeing as he was not only a marked man with a marked wife but also a prince of two realms so shit had to get done.

They were arriving as soon as whatever royal stuff he had to do was done.

The other five hundred (yes, five hundred) members of Circe’s personal guard that Lahn insisted accompany her to the Northlands were riding their horses up from the Vale seeing as Valentine wasn’t real hip on transporting an entire army.

Depending on how good of time they made, they’d be here in three weeks to a month.

So now we were in my sitting room visiting.

And I was trying to figure out how I could sort the latest mess I’d gotten myself into.

What I was trying not to do was think about the fact that maybe I didn’t want to.

I hadn’t had any sleep since it happened. Not a wink. I was mentally exhausted (for, Lord knew, it was a veritable impossibility to become physically exhausted because with a housekeeper and two ladies maids, there was nothing for me to do).

All I could do was think on what Apollo said to me. How ugly it was. How uncalled for it was. How he had to know how it would wound me.

And last, that he’d let that sit for two days, maybe expecting me to go to him and smooth things over like Cristiana advised before.

And perhaps I should.

But I felt deep down inside that I shouldn’t.

I took a lot from Pol.

I had to draw a line with Apollo.

But the man he was, maybe he wouldn’t come to me.

See?

All this crap in my head, it was no wonder I couldn’t sleep.

Not to mention, worrying about Christophe and still feeling like an idiot because I’d done something so immensely stupid to start all this off.

I was so over it.

The problem was, I was over it, but it just wasn’t over.

I was beginning to see the wisdom of Captain Kirk loving them and leaving them as he boldly went where no man had gone before (in the case of some of his alien partners, probably in two ways).

Because it hurt to love.

Especially when you f**ked up.

Huge.

Then they f**ked up.

Arguably even more huge.

Because where did you go from there?

And yes, I loved Apollo. I fell for him the instant he’d looked at me, his eyes filled with tenderness and pain. I knew this because alone at night (and also when I was alone during the day), when I wasn’t worrying or being pissed, I ran over every moment we’d shared in my head.

In doing this, I knew that a man who could look like that was a man who could feel anything, everything, and do it deeply, completely, magnificently.

Pretty much everything he’d done since had proved this irrevocably. Including (it sucked to admit, but it was true) how he expressed anger (though, that part wasn’t magnificent).

On this thought, my attention came back into the room when I saw Zahnin walk past the windows, his head turned to look out into the glade.

Lahn was at Karsvall, holed up with Apollo, Frey, Valentine and the other witch I’d only met in passing (but who, unlike Valentine, was really sweet). Her name was Lavinia.

Circe and Finnie had come with Zahnin and Bain since Circe didn’t move a muscle unless Lahn was at her side.

Or her guard was.

That was super sweet too.

“The cave was like nothing I’d ever seen,” she said, taking me out of my thoughts, and I looked from Zahnin to her. “I mean, it glittered. Not like the stone it was made of had anything in it that sparkled. I don’t know how to describe it, except it was magic.”

“I so have to go there when all this business is finally done,” Finnie declared.

“You so do. It was freaking amazing,” Circe agreed.