Bad Fae | romantasy | Bad Fae #1

Chapter Forty

When next Dain had to return to the Darkrealm, Feyrith realised that keeping me in Aena Dorei was not going to be tolerated and he suggested, as though a benevolent idea of his own, that I return with the Shaden.

"You have a week, nephew," were his parting words and I could guess what he might do if we failed to return in time.

With a mere week to ourselves, in our home, Dain hadn't bothered with the horses. He'd whisked the five of us through his shadow portal back home and the next breath I took was like the first one all over again. Snow was beginning to blanket the forest, being further north than Henmar. The shallow dusting was dulling and masking the gorgeous colours, but I could still feel the pulse of the Darkrealm.

I felt vitality surging through me, my heart seemed to beat stronger. It was like I hadn't realised I'd been languishing and now the whole world was open to me once more.

"Is this how it always feels?" I asked Dain.

I turned to him and saw his eyes were shining warmth at whatever he saw on my face.

He nodded. "Welcome home, Yana of the Darkrealm."

I felt it. Deep in my bones, my soul, in the very heartbeat of the abyss inside me. I was home. This was the land I belonged to, that belonged to me. These were the people; the Shaden. Whether I ever made it as a full member of the Voidsworn remained to be seen, but there was no doubt who I was now.

I was Yathanae Fenxisys, bastard daughter of Aclad, lady of the Darkrealm, and mistress of my own fate. Known to the world as Yana Halfborn, I was weaver of shadows, sometimes deadly fighter, and wielder of life and – one day – master of death. I was the granddaughter of Thivrah, the paramour of Dain, and an undying member of the Shaden. My heart belonged to these lands, these creatures, this magic. And I would fight for them all.

As Venali, Phin and Leyn went inside, I trailed my hand over the foliage once more, calling up that darkness from the abyss. The faintest flutter of that darkness stirred in me. Like I could hear its ancient melody through the murky waters of time. And I could feel the forest responding. Like it was waking up after such a long sleep.

Was this why the Darkrealm had been magical even during the fae's years in the Otherworld? Because the blood – the magic – of my grandmother had permeated its very soul? Or was Dain right, and my mother had spent time here, alone in a world that slowly forgot her?

"I told you it recognised you," Dain said quietly, and I looked back at him.

"I still can't really reach it," I told him. "Not that power."

He nodded, knowing what I meant. "It will take time. Time we don't have right now. But we will find it. We will nurture it. Together."

"Aren't you worried it will send me mad and I'll try to take over the world?"

He shrugged. "Maybe you will, but no one, not even the High King, denies my leannán any part of herself. And Thivrah is part of you. This forest, this magic, belongs to you. I think it should be returned to its rightful owner."

"What will that do to you?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think I'm ready for it."

He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my stomach. The prison gutted to life across them, and I felt it slide across my skin under my shirt. "You will be. One day."

I nodded, and leant my head against his chest. "What if I don't want to do it alone? Maybe this power is meant to be shared?"

"Then we'll find a way to wield it together. A united front."