Forbidden Love

Chapter 11

Illaria found Amos standing by the balcony, staring out over the gardens with a distant look in his eyes. The cool evening breeze ruffled his dark hair, and he seemed deep in thought, as if he had sensed what was to come before she had even spoken a word.

She approached him quietly, her steps silent as they always were, but he turned as if he had heard her anyway. His grey eyes met hers, and she felt a pang in her chest, knowing that the conversation they were about to have could change everything between them.

"Amos," she began softly, her voice gentle but firm. "We need to talk."

He nodded, a solemn understanding in his gaze. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been thinking about it too."

Illaria gestured for him to sit on the bench that overlooked the garden, the same one where they had spent many nights talking about the stars and the world beyond. He sat down, and she joined him, though the usual ease between them felt weighed down by what needed to be said.

"You've been here for several months now," she began, her fingers absently tracing the hem of her gown. "And while you've made it through this time without harm, there are things you need to understand about staying here—about the toll it's taking on you."

Amos frowned slightly, his brows knitting together in confusion. "I don't understand. What's happening to me?"

"The magic of this realm," Illaria explained, her voice filled with both regret and concern. "It's... different from what you're used to. It's not meant for humans. It will start to wear on you—slowly at first, but eventually, it will consume you. It's already begun."

He looked at her, and she saw the fear in his eyes, the realization of the danger he hadn't fully grasped until now. "And the ritual?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Illaria nodded. "It would change you—make you fae, like me. It's the only way for you to survive here long-term. But it's not a decision you can take lightly. The transformation is permanent, and not everyone survives the process."

Amos looked down at his hands, his mind clearly racing. For a long time, he was silent, and Illaria didn't push him. She knew he needed time to process, to weigh the impossible choice he was being asked to make.

"I don't know if I can do it," Amos admitted finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know if I'm ready to give up... who I am."

Illaria reached for his hand, her cool fingers brushing against his warmer ones. "You don't have to decide right now," she said softly. "But if you stay here much longer as you are, it will start to hurt you. I can't let that happen."

"Then what do we do?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for an answer she wasn't sure she had.

Illaria took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "I'll take you back," she said gently. "To your world, to the place where we first met. I can create a home for you there, in the meadow. You'll be safe, and I can visit you each day."

Amos's expression shifted, torn between relief and sorrow. "But I don't want to leave," he said, his voice quiet. "This place, it's... it feels like home. More than anything back in the mortal world."

Illaria felt a lump form in her throat, but she forced herself to smile. "You won't be far," she promised. "And I will come to see you every day. You'll have time to think, to decide if you want to return. And if you do... we can try the ritual then. But you must be sure, Amos. You have to be ready."

He nodded slowly, though she could see the sadness in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

They sat in silence for a few more moments before Illaria stood, offering him her hand. "Come," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I'll take you home."

The journey back to the meadow was quiet, the sky darkening as they traveled through the realms. Illaria led him through the same forest where they had first met, the snow now long melted, replaced by the vibrant greens of early spring.

When they arrived at the meadow, Amos stopped, gazing around with a mixture of nostalgia and sadness. Illaria raised her hand, her magic swirling through the air as she called upon the earth, the trees, and the sky to build him a home. Slowly, before his eyes, a small cottage formed at the edge of the meadow, nestled between the trees, its stone walls and thatched roof blending seamlessly into the landscape.

"It's perfect," Amos murmured, his voice filled with awe as he stepped forward to touch the walls.

Illaria smiled softly, watching as he explored the space. "You'll be safe here," she said. "No one will bother you, and I'll visit every day."

Amos turned to her, his grey eyes meeting hers. "Thank you, Illaria. For everything."

She nodded, her heart aching even as she tried to keep her composure. "You don't have to thank me," she whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that, she turned, her wings spreading behind her as she took to the sky, leaving Amos standing in the meadow, the home she had created for him glowing softly in the fading light.