Rowan gathered himself enough to tell her he expected her to be up at dawn for training the next day, and then turned to leave without another word.
Rowan's POV:
If Rowan had to watch the princess attempt to shift one more time, he was going to throw himself off of the nearest cliff.
They'd been at the temple since dawn, and besides the momentary satisfaction he'd felt when he'd asked her if she planned to vomit or piss herself again, the hours he'd spent watching the girl struggle to shift had been perhaps the most boring of his entire immortal existence. Rowan had brought her to the ruins with the hope that any lingering traces of Mala's power would help her to access her own, but it clearly wasn't working.
Rowan couldn't even taunt the girl as a means of entertainment. In the beginning, he'd hoped it might trigger some buried instincts, but it his insults had only proved useful in pissing her off. The princess seemed inclined to agree that they were better off pretending the other didn't exist. The only time they'd spoken was when she'd asked him what he was planning to do about the creature that had attacked her at the barrow fields and he'd told her he was looking into it. She'd scowled at the dismissal, but hadn't made any further comments.
After an hour of failed attempts, the girl demanded to know why Rowan refused to teach her how to use her magic until she shifted. He gave her the same answer as before: No shifting, no magic. If she was incapable of accepting her own nature, there was no point in her trying to master her magic.
When Rowan deemed them finished an hour later, the princess was soaked to the bone and shivering. Despite her complaints, he'd forced her to sit in the rain until her teeth were chattering. If she wanted to be stubborn, he was more than willing to return the favor.
They didn't speak all the way back to Mistward.
•••
The storm raged well into the evening, rain pounding against the roof of the mess hall as Rowan sat by the door and listened to Emry's tell his stories. He'd taken to remaining in his hawk form in the evenings, if only to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
It was nearing midnight when the princess appeared, the demi-Fae having already abandoned the food in favor of a seat by the fire where they could listen to Emrys's spin his stories. The girl didn't speak, filling her plate with food before leaning against the wall to eat, as far awaits y from the crowd surrounding Emrys as she could get. Rowan watched her as she picked at her food, Emrys voice fading into the background. After a few minutes, Aelin finished her food and turned to leave.
Then, as if some six sense had kicked in, she glanced in Rowan's direction, her eyes finding his. She paused for a moment, considering, and then recognition flickered in her gaze. She took a step in his direction, her mouth opening as if to say something, when Emrys voice filled the mess hall.
"Elentiya," he said. "Would you perhaps share a story from your lands? We'd love to hear a tale, if you'd give us the honor."
The room went silent, the crowd of demi-Fae surrounding Emrys turning to look at Aelin. Their gaze was expectant, almost eager. She froze, flinching when Luca shouted his encouragement. Then, her eyed found Emrys, her voice hard and cold as she said, "No."
Before Rowan could blink, she was gone.
•••
Over the course of the following week, they began to develop a routine. The princess spent her mornings in the kitchens with Emrys and Luca, a task she almost seemed to enjoy, much to Rowan's chagrin.
Their training, if you could even call it that, was a different story.
Rowan had snarled and sneered at the girl until he'd run out of insults, but it had only succeeded in pissing her off. The only taunt that'd had any real effect on her was when he'd threatened to take her back to the Barrows if she didn't shift, but he'd backed off when she'd told him she'd slit her own throat before going back there. Aelin may be utterly infuriating, but for some reason the image of her bleeding out had rubbed Rowan the wrong way.
Besides the occasional swearing match, the two of them barely spoke to each other. It had become a game of sorts, seeing what it would take to make her bare her teeth or draw out a snarl. When he was in a particularly foul mood, Rowan had taken to making her chop wood until she couldn't lift the ax without whimpering. He had decided that if the princess was going to waste his time with this ridiculous fear of her own nature, he might as well make some use of her.
And each night, Rowan perched in the doorway to the mess hall and listened to Emrys tell his stories by the hearth. The princess was there every night as well, waiting until the demi-Fae had finished eating before slipping in and out of the mess hall without a word.
•••
After a week of this, Aelin turned to him while they were on their way to the temple ruins and said, "I want to see you shift."
The refusal immediately found it's way to Rowan's lips, but he stopped himself. It was clear his own strategy wasn't working. Perhaps seeing him shift would help, if only to get her to stop pestering him over it.
Rowan gave the princess a look that said, Just this once.
There was a flash of light as Rowan shifted, flying into the trees and settling on a branch. He looked down at the princess, clicking his beak at her as she stared up at him in faint disbelief. Her gaze flickered to where Rowan had been standing, as if she was searching for some sign of him.
Rowan took the opportunity, swooping down from his perch with a screech, talons aimed at her face. The girl shrieked, lunging towards the trees for cover. The sight was more satisfying than he cared to admit.
Rowan shifted back into his Fae form with another flash of light, appearing before the girl and snarling in her face, "Your turn."'
The princess didn't flinch, her eyes flicking up and down his form before she met his gaze. "Where do your clothes go?"
"Between, somewhere. I don't particularly care," Rowan snapped, flashing his teeth.
The girl didn't move, staring at him with those empty eyes of hers. "Sometimes I wonder whether this is punishment for you," she said, baring her teeth in return. "But what could you have done to piss off her Immortal Majesty?"
Rowan growled, forcing his rage to check itself. "Don't use that tone when you talk about her."
"Oh, I can use whatever tone I want. And you can taunt and snarl at me and make me chop wood all day, but short of ripping out my tongue you can't–"
Aelin stopped talking as Rowan reached out and grasped her tongue between his fingers, the movement so quick she didn't even have the chance to scream. She gagged, twisting as she tried and failed to bite his hand. Rowan didn't even flinch.
"Say that again," he purred, relishing in the panic that filled her gaze as she began to choke, her hands frantically grasping for the daggers at his waist before she thrust a knee between his legs. Rowan shoved her backwards, their bodies slamming into the tree before he pressed himself against her.
This close, he could hear the girl's heart pounding against his chest.
Aelin's eyes widened in shock, and Rowan knew she had just realized how unmatched she was. He let out a growl of satisfaction before releasing her tongue from his grip.
Aelin doubled over, a stream of swears tumbling from her lips, each one more foul than the next and all directed at him.
Rage coiled in Rowan's gut, unrelenting and wrapped in familiar notes of wind and ice. He didn't even try to fight the primal urge that rose to the surface as he lunged, the princesses scream echoing in his ears as his teeth tore into the skin between her neck and shoulder.
Rowan's every sense narrowed to the sound of Aelin's heart pounding in her chest, to the sensation of the blood pumping through her veins as she went utterly still beneath him. The taste of it, warm and wild and laced with flames, was suddenly the only thing that mattered. It melted the ice in chest, silenced the winds and made him feel.. alive. It made him feel alive. He pressed Aelin against the tree, their bodies close enough for him to feel every contour of hers. Out of the corner of his eye, in some other world, he saw a line of blood trickling down her shoulder.
One moment, he was lost in the taste of blood and fire and her, and then he was stumbling backwards, his chest burning with the force of Aelin's shove. Her growl echoed in his ears, but Rowan couldn't bring himself to care as that all consuming warmth left his body.
Rowan's muscles went taut with the effort of resisting the overwhelming urge to sink his teeth into her neck again. The taste of her blood was in his mouth, trickling down his face, a bitter medley of embers and ashes.
Rowan's control snapped the same
moment his vision went white. As Aelin shifted with a flash of light and a primal roar that made him go utterly still.
The light faded, but it took Rowan a few moments to take in Aelin, thrumming with power and strength, ears pointed and canines gleaming.
Rowan grinned, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the ground in an attempt to rid himself of her taste, and said, "There you are."
Aelin lunged for him, teeth bared and eyes filled with the molten flame he'd tasted in her blood. Lunged, and then stopped as she realized what she'd done. She inhaled, awe taking the place of rage as she took in the world with her heightened senses. Rowan had forgotten how jarring it was, that first shift. How the entire world seemed sharper, as if a veil had been lifted.
The mark on her neck from Rowan's bite began to heal, torn skin knitting together to leave nothing but a line of blood in it's place. He resisted the urge to growl, shoving down the instincts that were screaming at him to bite her again, to mark her permanently.
He felt it then, the power he'd sensed that day in the field, that he'd tasted in her blood, teeming beneath her skin and begging to be set free. Aelin was panting now, muscles tense with the effort of holding back her magic.
Rowan took a step forward, her raw power tugging at the edges of his own. The air smelled like smoke, and he could almost hear the wildfire crackling to life in the girl's veins.
"Let it out," he murmured as he felt Aelin's fear spike. "Don't fight it."
He wanted to see it, see what she could do it she just let go. He reached out with his own magic, ice and wind inviting her fire to play. Taunting and teasing with each caress, coaxing the flames into being. Aelin flinched as he sent a slice of cold air to nip at her elbow, stumbling back into the tree he'd had her pressed up against moments ago.
Rowan sent another bite of cold at her cheek, and Aelin imploded. A wall of blue fire roared towards him from across the clearing, fueled by Aelin's rage. Rowan stole the air from the flames with a single breath.
Aelin dropped to her knees, clawing at her throat at the sudden absence of air. Rowan watched her struggle for a few moments before releasing his hold, prompting Aelin to shift back to her mortal form as she retched.
The question escaped before Rowan realized he was asking it. "Does your lover know what you are?"
Aelin lifted her head, and there was enough anger in her gaze Rowan was almost surprised he didn't burst into flames. "He knows everything."
Rowan thought about that male, waiting for Aelin to come back to him, and said, "I won't be biting you again."
Aelin growled, but the fire in her eyes was once again dormant."Even if it's the only way to get me to shift?"
Rowan turned away from her, suddenly wanting to put as much distance between himself and her blood as possible. "You don't bite the women of other males."
"We're not together, not anymore," Aelin said, her voice cracking in a way that made him look back at her. "I let him go before I came here."
The utter despair in her tone, the emptiness that had drowned out the fire in her gaze, we're both familiar enough to send a bolt of pain through Rowan. He'd looked the same, sounded the same after Lyria died.
"Why?" he asked, mostly to drown out the sound of Lyria's screams.
Aelin looked down at the ring on her left hand, a simple band of silver metal adorned with a purple stone. "Because he's safer if he's as repulsed by me as you are."
"At least you've already learned one lesson," Rowan said, Lyria's screams filling his head. "The people you love are just weapons that will be used against you."
The fire in Aelin's gaze stuttered at that, but Rowan ignored it. "Shift again," he ordered. "This time, try to hold it for longer-"
He looked over at Aelin to see if she was listening, but her empty, lifeless gaze was focused on the ground beneath her.
"Are you listening?" Rowan hissed, grabbing onto her shoulder.
Aelin looked up at him, her eyes dull and face expressionless. "Why don't you just bite me again?"
"Why don't I just give you the lashing you deserve?" Rowan snarled in return.
Aelin blinked as if the threat took a moment to register, and then her gaze hardened. Rowan took a step back, releasing his hold on her shoulder. "If you ever take a whip to me, I will skin you alive," she said, her voice cold in a way Rowan hadn't heard before.
He ignored it, ignored the rage simmering in her gaze, and said,"If you don't shift again, you're pulling double kitchen duty for the next week."
"Fine."
"You're worthless."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Rowan bit back a snarl at the dismissal."You would probably have been more useful to the world if you'd actually died ten years ago."
Aelin finally looked at him then, and there was a certain finality to her words as she said, "I'm leaving."
•••
Rowan didn't try to stop Aelin as she stormed back to the fortress, packer her bag, and walked out. If she cared about the daggers still in his possession, she didn't say anything.
Rowan shifted, following the princess as she passed the wards and entered the woods before he shifted back into his Fae form and appeared right in front of her, effectively blocking her path. "Is this what you do? Run away when things get hard?"
Aelin didn't stop, brushing past him without so much as a glance. "You're free of your obligation to me, so I have nothing more to say to you and you have nothing more to say to me. Do us both a favor and go to hell."
"Have you ever had to fight for anything in your life?" Rowan growled, even as he found himself wondering why the hell he cared. Isn't this what he'd wanted? For Aelin to abandon her deal with Maeve and leave him be? Why was he even trying to get her to stay?
Aelin laughed, the sound low and bitter, and turned to head deeper into the woods.
Rowan followed, easily keeping pace with her. "You're proving me right with every step you take."
"I don't care," Aelin snapped, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
"I don't know what you want from Maeve, what answers you're looking for, but you—"
Aelin whirled to face him. "You don't know what I want from her?" She snarled, her eyes sparking. "How about saving the world from the King of Adarlan?"
"Why bother? Maybe the world's not worth saving." Even as he said it, Rowan realized he had forgotten what it was like. To believe in something enough to die for it, a truth he now saw in Aelin's gaze.
"Because I made a promise. A promise to my friend that I would see her kingdom freed," Aelin growled, thrusting her palm
in Rowan's face so he would see the fresh scar running along the length of it. "I made an unbreakable vow. And you and Maeve, all you damned bastards, are getting in the way of that."
Aelin turned away from him, storming down the hill and into the trees. Rowan followed.
"And what of your own people? What if your own kingdom?"
"They're better off without me, just as you said."
Rowan snarled at her. "So you'd save another land but not yours. Why can't your friend save her own kingdom?"
Aelin turned to him then, rage and despair burning tears into her gaze. Rowan didn't know when she'd started crying. "Because she is dead!"
The words came out in a hoarse shriek, and it took Rowan a moment to register them, but Aelin continued. "Because she is dead, and I am left with my worthless life!"
Rowan didn't try and stop the princess as she turned and disappeared into the trees.
UPDATED: 6/15/19