Exchanged Read online

  His heart sank.

  He slowly withdrew the vial to find it upside down, uncorked, and empty. The inside had a thin film of grey dust. Carefully, he dipped his fingers into his pocket and felt the slight sting of the powdery metal on his skin. There had barely been enough iron in the vial to activate the spell. If he couldn’t retrieve it... He shook the thought of Aubriel waking in the morning, alone, confused, and hurt by his absence from his mind. With a deep breath, he righted the vial, placed in on the desk, and slipped off his court cloak.

  After pouring the granules from his pocket onto a sheet of parchment, Callannon rolled the sheet and painstakingly filtered the powdered iron back into the vial. The effort of gently shaking the iron out filament by filament left his arms quivering. The memory of Oberon urging him to spar and build his strength came unbidden. Callannon was taller, but Oberon was stronger and significantly more comfortable with a weapon in his hands. This bit of effort wouldn’t tax the king.

  But Oberon isn’t here. I am, and there’s no one who can help me with this. Callannon banished other thoughts from his mind, focusing on saving the iron and ignoring both the burning in his arms from the precise work and the burning on his skin when the occasional bit of iron touched him.

  After many minutes, the majority of the iron was returned to the vial. Callannon frowned at it. There was less than before, as indicated by the dark ring where the iron once sat higher in the vial. It wouldn’t be enough. He took a new, flat piece of parchment and carefully turned his pocket out over it, causing more bits of the iron to fall free. He was suddenly glad such detail was put into court clothing, as even the insides of his pockets were made with silk that allowed the iron to slip off easily. When he was confident that he shook off as much as could be retrieved, he added that to the vial.

  Callannon eyed it critically. Though he’d been able to salvage much, he couldn’t return all of the iron. The powder still sat lower in the vial than the dusty line along the inside of the glass. He stoppered the vial securely and held it to his chest next to the amulet. Please be enough.

  A soft knock came from the study door. This time, Callannon slowly placed the iron in the case with the rest of his components and closed the lid. “Come in.”

  Mrs. Delia opened the door and stepped inside. “Lord Thray,” she said with a curtsy. “Captain Salda has left the grounds. I sent some of the gardeners to follow her out. I...I apologize, my lord, for not notifying you sooner of the captain’s arrival. She was not brought by carriage, and she let herself in. By the time the other staff and I noticed—”

  Callannon raised a hand. “There’s nothing to forgive. It is not you but Captain Salda who is at fault. I think it’s time I made a new ward especially for her visits, but that will have to wait.”

  “My lord?” Mrs. Delia asked, stepping closer and lowering her voice. “Is it true what you said about still needing to recover from dealing with the frost giants?”

  “In part, but I have other worries on my mind presently.” Callannon smiled at the small, concerned, and most trusted member of his staff. “Worries that make dealing with frost giants seem easy in comparison.”

  “I suppose I’m not surprised you’ve found another challenge already, my lord.”

  “Found? It’s not as if I look for these challenges.”

  Mrs. Delia shook her head, small wisps of hair escaping from her bun. “That’s exactly what you do, Lord Thray. If I may, I think that’s why you turned down the position at the Sorcerers’ Enclave. That power and responsibility would have constrained you. No, you enjoy finding solutions to new problems, and you’re good at it. My lord, there’s a reason your advisorship is the one thing that King Oberon and Queen Titania agree on as being good for the Summer Court.” Mrs. Delia paused, realizing her tone, and blushed embarrassedly. “My apologies, Lord Thray, but whatever your new worry is, I have no doubt of you working through it.”

  Stunned as he was by her admission, Callannon had to admit that she was right. It wasn’t possible for him to conjure more iron for his spell, but there were other ways to reach Aubriel. Perhaps he should focus more on the gateways between their worlds. It wouldn’t bring them together this eve, but assuming he created a powerful enough illusion, she could come to the Summer Kingdom and stay safe.

  “Is my own housekeeper suggesting that she refuses to help me in this matter?” Callannon asked with a smile.

  “You find your own way into your worries, and you do a good job of finding your way out of them,” she replied. “Besides, I hear they don’t have staff at the Sorcerers’ Enclave. Consider it preparation for when you decide to move on one day.”

  “And let you and the rest of the staff overwhelm a new advisor? I think not.” His teasing smile turned serious. “Thank you.”

  “Go on,” she said with a wave of her hand to his desk. “You don’t miss court often. Make the best of your time.”

  ~*~

  Callannon worked tirelessly through the afternoon and into the evening researching gateways and illusions he was unfamiliar with. He pulled books off his shelf he never thought he might use and found himself glad for following his instinct to keep them. He was still concerned for Aubriel’s safety in the Summer Kingdom, but the more he thought about her arrival—assuming she agreed to it—the more excited he became.

  The vision of his exchanged crying, lonely in a forest, was replaced with her smiling up at him warmly from a nearby chair as she read. Was it too much to wish for such a thing?

  Well after night fell, Callannon finally felt tired enough to sleep. Giddiness and dread mixed in his stomach as he climbed into bed, wondering if he had sufficient iron to see Aubriel. He slipped the components under his pillow, where they would be consumed by his spell, and pushed away thoughts of Aubriel lying beside him. Sleep would never come to him if he imagined her like that. He prayed, although he wasn’t sure to what or to whom, that he might enter the dreamscape that night.

  Chapter 5

  Aubriel lay on her back and stared up at the dark canvas as her fingers gently brushed the nightflower in her hair. She would finally be able to see him again. The entire day, she’d been able to think of nothing but the gentle kiss that ended too quickly. Despite her day of scavenging, the soft flower petals showed no sign of wilting.

  A token of his favor. Did that have something to do with the bond between them? Callannon said he required nothing from her for the gifts he bestowed, and he hadn’t demanded anything, but he obviously wanted more. Did he want her because she was Aubriel, or did he have other motivations as Elston had? She pictured Callannon near her and imagined his warmth. It was difficult to believe he would try to use her, but the worry stuck in her mind.

  Gentle, golden light warmed her face. Was it morning? Aubriel found herself standing and took in her surroundings. Callannon’s garden was awash in twilight, but it seemed less the darkening of day and more the brightening of morning. Acorn gave a small yip and trotted into the underbrush. Callannon stood next to the table, clothed in his normal dark green doublet with embroidered leaves and earth-toned trousers. Her breath caught as their eyes met.

  He looked at her oddly, making her skin grow warm, as if the magic bond within her were slowly burning. The carved amulet hung around his neck on its plain leather thong. Aubriel was glad for the layers of skirts that hid her slightly quivering legs. This was the problem. When he brought her to this garden, gave her this beautiful dress, pulled her hair up with a delicate comb, she forgot who she was. When he looked at her like that, she forgot everything.

  Callannon left the table to meet her, his eyes staying on her—all of her. Aubriel took deep breaths. The fey before her was still the same one who always took her hand and bent to kiss it, but tonight he held her hand more fully, and his mouth lingered, sending a rush of heat to her face and between her legs. He straightened but didn’t release her hand, standing so close she could feel his warmth and smell the woodsy scent that was uniquely his.

 
I’m just a huntress, she thought weakly, trying to convince herself to pull away. He’s advisor to a fey king. By accepting the token, maybe I just reinforced his claim on me. I need to know what it means.

  “It's good to see you,” Callannon said, his voice deep. “You're even more beautiful than I remember.”

  He shifted slightly, moving his body so close they were nearly touching, making her want to do anything but pull away. She smiled, searching his face as if it might hold answers to her questions. “It's good to see you as well. I was thinking...”

  The words stuck in Aubriel’s throat. Callannon brushed the back of his hand along the nightflower that was still tucked behind her ear. Had he been thinking of their last meeting as well? Aubriel had to say something about it, but she didn't want to break whatever spell was over them. “I was thinking of how suddenly our last meeting ended.”

  “I’m sorry for that,” he said, his gaze softening. “I didn’t wish for it to end so quickly either, but the spell’s duration finished.”

  Aubriel nodded, incapable of anything else. Callannon’s eyes roamed her face, lingering on her mouth, then the flower. His eyes became heavy, and he brushed her hair behind her ear. She wanted to ask him more about the meaning of the token, but at this closeness, it was difficult to focus or put the words together. He put a finger under her chin, gently tilted her face up, and kissed her.

  Warmth flooded from her mouth through the rest of her body. Bree’s hands found Callannon’s doublet and grabbed the rich fabric, keeping him close. He kissed her slowly, backing her up until she was pressed against the soft tree they had spoken under during their first meeting in the garden. He deepened the kiss, opening his mouth and driving away what was left of her senses. Their pace was slow, but something about the way he claimed her mouth and took her face in his hands was desperate, as if he’d nearly lost her.

  He gently pressed the tip of his tongue between her lips, asking for permission. She gave it to him. This kind of kissing wasn't foreign to her, but his care and passion mixed with his taste were incomparably blissful. You're opening yourself to let him hurt you, a small voice whispered to her. Except instead of your head, this time your heart will be hurt.

  Callannon’s kisses went to the corner of her mouth, along her jaw, and down her neck. Aubriel let out a quiet moan, arching against the supple tree. He was so gentle, so precise. He would never do anything to ruin this, would he? His hands would never raise against her. But she had thought the same of Elston once.

  “Callannon,” she half whispered, half gasped. “What...what did you mean when you asked if I would accept a token of your favor?”

  Bree’s words came out much more muddled than she intended, and his kisses progressed down the curve of her shoulder without pause. The trail of his hands down her back to her hips left a warm tingling sensation. She splayed her hands over his chest and pushed pathetically. His mouth returned to hers, and he so thoroughly possessed her that speech was impossible. The firm and gentle press of his fingers on her hip traced her waist and slowly moved up her bodice, between her breasts.

  With a hard shove, she managed to push him off of her enough to break the kiss. Callannon looked at her in confusion, his breathing heavy. “Aubriel?”

  “What does the token of your favor mean?” she gasped. “Why did you ask me to accept it?”

  Confusion marred his face, then was replaced with understanding. He removed his hands from her and took a step back. “I’m so sorry, Aubriel.”

  “Wait!” she said, closing the distance between them. “I—I’m not upset. I just don’t understand.”

  Callannon put a hand to his face, seeming to have not heard her. “Of course you wouldn’t know. You’re not fey. It was stupid for me to have assumed.”

  “Please,” Aubriel said, taking his face in her hands and forcing his pained silver eyes to meet hers. “Listen to me, Callannon. I’m not upset or angry with you, I just don’t understand fey customs, and I want to know more before we...progress.” She stepped closer to him and gave him a meaningful look. “I want to talk this through with you, to make sure you won’t...to make sure I’m not hurt again.”

  His face relaxed some, but she could feel his hesitance. She blushed at her next words. “I want to kiss you like that again, but not until we talk.”

  Finally, a smile eased his face. “Yes, we can talk.” He motioned to the garden table and chairs in the center of the clearing. “Shall we?”

  Aubriel nodded and let her hands drop from his face. Callannon took her arm in his, making her heart swell. He helped her to her seat before taking his own. The table was bare, providing no distraction from what needed to be discussed.

  “This flower,” Aubriel began, touching the purple nightflower in her hair. “You called it a token of your favor. What does that mean?”

  Callannon laced his fingers together atop the table and met her gaze evenly. “It is a custom among fey, as you guessed. I must apologize again for presuming that you understood its meaning. I only thought so because you first presented me with a token, initiating the exchange.”

  Aubriel started. “I couldn’t have. I still don’t understand what a token is, or the meaning of initiating an exchange.”

  “You gave me this,” Callannon said, touching the amulet she had carved for him.

  “My gift? Yes, I made it to show my appreciation to you for the gifts you have given me.”

  “Exactly.” He ran a thumb over the smooth surface and looked down at it. “You took the time and care to craft this in order to show your feelings for me.” He lifted his gaze, resting it on Aubriel. “There are none in the Summer Court who would have taken the time to make this. It’s an expression of devotion, so special, so unique, but I wrongly assumed it was given to me because you wished to exchange.”

  Aubriel’s heart clenched. She leaned forward and grasped the hand he left resting on the table. “Please, Callannon, what did my gift mean to you? Tell me.”

  Callannon smiled, and she squeezed his hand in encouragement. “When two fey wish to exchange, they trade tokens. You presented me with your token, and I chose to accept. In turn, I presented you with my token, and you accepted. We kissed, and so sealed the exchange. Our tokens have now become magically bound, connecting us to one another, much like my magic within you. Aubriel, you and I are exchanged.”

  “I see,” she said, still feeling like something was missing. “Does that mean...are we married?”

  Callannon blinked, and then laughed, taking her hand in both of his. “No, we are not married. Marriages can’t be undone, exchanges can.”

  “Then we’re engaged,” she said.

  He seemed more his normal self, his eyes darkening slightly. She couldn’t believe she had been so unintentionally forward, and yet, he didn’t seem to mind. Just a month ago, she had been a single village elf pining after Elston. She never would have guessed that she would manage to find a fey lord, propose to him, and have him accept. Marriage wasn’t something she imagined herself committing to in the near future, but it wasn’t unpleasant to think that she might be in such a situation with Lord Callannon Thray.

  “What is the meaning of ‘engaged’?” Callannon asked.

  “If two people are engaged, then they are promised to be married, typically soon.” Aubriel watched his reaction closely. “Is that what we are?”

  His gaze remained on her but grew distant as he considered her question. “In some ways, we are less than that, but in some ways more. An exchange does lead to marriage, but never quickly. As I mentioned, fey marriages are binding and cannot be broken. By exchanging, a couple can experience a relationship similar to marriage while they decide if it’s right for them. It isn’t always.”

  Bree heard an undertone of sadness in his last words. “Were you exchanged once?”

  Callannon nodded and gave her a small, pained smile. “Yes, but that was a long time ago, and I’m happy no marriage came from it. My brief exchange with you has been w
orlds happier than mine with her.” He waved his hand, as if dismissing a phantom. “I don’t know the way of things for mortal engagements, but a certain level of...intimacy is acceptable when fey exchange.”

  Her heart sped as his tone deepened and his eyes darkened. There was a pleasant sensation coming from their joined hands. She couldn’t tell if it was from the magic inside her or if it was the contact of his skin. This feeling was unique to him. She wanted intimacy, but she had to know one last thing.

  “Why did you accept my offer?” Aubriel asked softly. “From everything you’ve said about exchanges, it must have seemed to you that I was rushing forward by presenting you with a token. We don’t know each other well and haven't for long. I’m not fey. What made you accept?”

  Callannon paused in surprise, then laughed. “A few of those questions crossed my mind when you presented your token. I wondered why you would choose me. You were mortal, kind, honest, and beautiful. Then I realized that, of course, those were all the things that made me want to keep seeing you. I couldn’t understand why you would give up an easier and safer life with one of your own kind, but I couldn’t turn down an offer from you.”

  “It would seem we’re an odd pair.” Aubriel smiled tentatively.

  “Then you do not wish to break our exchange?” he asked, squeezing her hands.

  “I accepted your token, and I intend to keep it.”

  His smile widened, and she found her own mirroring his. She laughed at the joy and absurdity of it all. They were exchanged. He wouldn't use her and abandon her as Elston had. Callannon always treated her so kindly and with such respect. She trusted him.

  Callannon stood and gently tugged her out of the chair and into his arms. She lost herself in his solid warmth. His fingers tilted her chin up, and he slowly walked her backward, all the while holding her gaze. “May I?”