NINETEEN
D aylia flitted around the kitchens, wearing a smile that seemed permanent.
The cooks made themselves scarce as soon as she’d entered the stuffy rooms nestled in the rear corner of the ground floor. I couldn’t say I blamed them, as the steward left a trail of mess in her wake and nearly overturned a pot of gurgling stew upon the stove.
“Sandwiches,” she muttered, a finger pointed in the air. “It’s not a picnic without sandwiches.”
The more mayhem she created, the more undeniable it became that I would need to commandeer this task. Searching the wooden benches lining every edge of the room and the two in the center, I collected a jar of almonds and leftover diced fruit from breakfast.
Atop wooden crates by the door was a basket of fresh herbs.
I set it on one of the island benches, put the herbs in a clean bowl by the sink, then placed the nuts and fruit in the basket. All the while, Daylia smeared far too much butter upon mounds of bread and hacked at a block of cheese.
“You’ve little skill with a knife.”
She didn’t seem offended. I wondered if much could offend her as she shrugged. “Never needed it. Now, Morona…” Casting me a knowing look, she said, “Vane has known her for quite some years.”
It took a stupid amount of effort not to roll my eyes. “So she said.”
“She’s still rather enamored with him.” Curls bobbed with her head. “But Vane never wanted to make such a commitment.”
I snorted. “It would indeed be such a chore to spend an immortal lifetime with just one female.”
Daylia ignored my sarcasm. “He believes it a waste to invest all of his heart in someone when he might one day be forced to sever ties.” She almost sang, “You never know who the goddess might put in your path.”
Momentarily perplexed, my mouth parted. It promptly snapped closed when what she’d said settled properly.
Great. So not only was I being forced to fall in love with this king and then deal with the repercussions, but I had to fall in love with someone awaiting a divinely gifted mate.
Ridiculous. All of it.
“But mates are a dying phenomenon.”
A smile entered her voice as she hinted at her own bond with Cerwin. “Are they, though?”
I stepped away before my frustrations, and something akin to resentment, freed more bitter words from my mouth.
In the hall outside, I found clean cloths in the long row of serving drawers. I used one to cover the fruit dish as Daylia went on about the king and how she couldn’t believe he’d agreed to go on this outing.
“Even before the war, all he did was hunt and fuck and fight and read things, so I cannot explain how momentous this is. A picnic!” She exhaled a breathy laugh. “By the dark mother, I wish I could have seen his reaction.” She bit into a jagged slice of cheese. “Was he shocked? Disgusted? Wait…” She hummed another laugh as she swallowed. “Does he even know what a picnic is?”
I spread two more cloths over the benchtop. “I’m sure he’s asked around.” Then I stole the sandwiches and wrapped them before she made them inedible.
Unusually quiet for a moment, Daylia cut into the cheese although there was no longer any need to torture it. “You’ve not asked much yourself, you know.”
“About Vane?”
“Some think you don’t care to even try to break this curse.”
Her bluntness worked. My spine stiffened, and a curt response formed over my tongue. I withheld it because she was sadly right. “Truth be told, I don’t care,” I admitted. “Not enough.”
Her mouth pinched. I’d officially offended her.
Before she unleashed the ire dampening her eyes, I set the sandwiches in the basket and whispered, “All I’ve ever done is what others have forced upon me.” I met her gaze, weariness flattening my rising voice. “My life has never been my own.”
Daylia said nothing. She just watched me fill two canteens with water.
As I placed them in the basket, she released a loud breath. “The life of a royal is never their own. It’s another curse disguised as a blessing. That still doesn’t exempt you from responsibility.”
Decade-old anger soaked my question in venom. “And what responsibility does a lowly halfling have?”
“What you are doesn’t matter, Princess. You have a title, and those with titles were given them to do more than drink fine wines and play games of power. You are to protect the balance, which has been grossly destroyed.” Setting down the knife, she smiled faintly. “Use your heart, Mildred. You’ll find that if you do, freedom often follows.”
“And what about Ethermore’s freedom from more torment?” I asked. “After years of enduring unspeakable brutality bestowed by your late king and his armies of ruthless warriors?”
Both Fae realms were as rotten as each other, but what I’d said was still undeniably true.
“You cannot make an entire kingdom pay for one king’s callousness and expect to get away with it.” With that, she left the kitchens.
I glowered at the basket, feeling his energy before I saw him.
Tempted to ask how long he’d been standing there—how much he’d overheard—I took my time to acknowledge him. Snatching the basket, I decided to darkness with it. “I suppose you agree with your steward.”
Vane straightened from the wall, a toothpick between his teeth. He didn’t answer.
He eyed my layered lavender lace and tulle skirts, then my sleeveless cream blouse. I’d intended to dress simply. Perhaps I’d failed. His teeth flashed, blue eyes ashine with amusement and something that looked alarmingly close to approval.
In head-to-toe black, save for another pair of bulky brown boots, he’d dressed far more simply than me. Taking advantage of having his back, I admired the tight fit of his pants, the way they hugged his backside, as I trailed him through the halls.
A black carriage awaited beneath the castle steps, the royal crest painted in smoky silver upon the door.
Vane opened it and flicked his toothpick, but rather than take his offered hand, I gave him the basket. He frowned at the contents, and I smiled as I climbed into the carriage’s mahogany and leather interior.
We jostled forward as soon as he settled on the seat opposite me.
The basket he’d placed beside him still had his attention. He poked at the cloth covering the sandwiches. “I smell so much cheese.”
“Blame Daylia.” I pulled the velvet curtain aside to peer out the window.
A river curled through the trees lining the drive we ambled down. There were no gates to open, so the drivers didn’t stop. “Where are your royal guards?”
“They’re shifters who patrol the grounds and woodland, so you’ll seldom see them. We’ve no need for many.”
That made me look at him. Dryly, I asked, “Because your might is so formidable, no one would dare attack your fortress?”
He folded his hands in his lap, thumbs brushing together. “Such sourness from such a sweet mouth.” His eyes gleamed. “I look forward to tasting it.”
Blinking, I blurted, “What makes you so sure you’ll get to?”
“The look in your eyes right now.”
The large cabin suddenly felt far too small. Too warm. “I believe what you’re referring to is more commonly known as contempt.”
He chuckled, hearty and rasped.
If I could have climbed free of my uncomfortable skin, I would have. Alas, there was no escape. Not from this carriage. Not from this realm.
Not from this king.
White flashed in my peripheral, and my eyes returned to the world beyond the window. A temple hid within the trees, the stone open and empty and swallowed by vegetation. The road became bumpier. Trees tried to claim it with roots that lurched and arching branches filled with squawking birds and buzzing insects.
I’d merely intended to ignore the king and the oppressive warmth of his gaze.
But as we left the road to the castle and veered around a bend onto another, I found myself transfixed. This land of monsters was a lush sight. Color splashed the never-ending greenery in breath-catching bursts that made me long for parchment and ink so that I could describe them to Bernie.
So that I could remember.
At the creek we traveled alongside, a fawn-like creature munched on leaves as big as its head. The water wasn’t red or brown with blood, as rumor and myth often told, but a clear blue that reflected the sky peeking between the canopy of ancient and thickly trunked trees.
The carriage soon slowed. A clearing came into view as we trundled to a halt.
Vane exited before the driver could reach the door, a silver-haired male with a missing eye. He smiled briefly, then stepped back as Vane offered me his hand.
Again, I merely gave him the basket. Then I jumped down onto the grass-speckled road that ended right where we’d stopped.
I saw why when I walked into the clearing that sloped toward a cliff.
Beneath it, in the distance beyond more woodland and the infamous River of Serpents, the royal city was a glinting cluster of darkness. But the rocky and tree-dense sentinels curling around it stunted the beat of my heart.
Skeleton Mountains.
Vane neared as the carriage ambled back down the road. “The view is even better over here.”
I followed him downhill. Upon the emerald grass, he set the basket down a safe distance from the sharp rocks lining the cliff’s edge. Soft yellow wildflowers tickled my arm as I sat and placed my skirts over and under my legs to keep the breeze from stealing them.
Vane dumped himself upon the ground and snatched the jar of almonds. A safer choice than the sandwiches. Even so, I unwrapped one and removed the cheese before biting into the heavily buttered bread.
When I found him watching me intently, I frowned. Then I offered him the sandwich.
He huffed. “You keep it.”
“Then what is it?”
“Your hair,” he said, plucking a wildflower. “It’s the same shade of yellow as these petals.” The breeze knocked his own hair toward his tucked wings, a thick strand blowing over his cheek. He looped it behind his pointed ear, then passed me the flower.
Rather than tell him hundreds surrounded me and that I could pick my own if I wanted to, I gently took the stem from between his fingers.
A screech in the distance drew my eyes from the petals and curdled my blood. Against the fluffy puffs of white clouds flew a dark figure, its long body curling with each sweep of its large wings.
A pytherion.
We both watched it soar toward the mountains, then disappear. Another screech announced its arrival.
Recalling what Vane had said in the carriage about the lack of royal guards, I couldn’t keep from smiling. “These mountains are the reason you don’t fear ambush.”
“Partly,” he confessed, chewing an almond. “Those who dare attempt journeying through them do rarely live to tell the tale.”
“What about your military facility?”
He wasn’t surprised that I knew. He couldn’t be when the stronghold had existed there for eons. “The pytherions are accustomed to their presence. And though they’re extremely ill-tempered, unless ordered otherwise, they seldom attack those who respect them and present no threat.”
“Ordered otherwise?”
He seemed to ponder his response for a moment. “A long time ago, they were used for battle. Due to their bond with the Ashbone bloodline, they tolerated riders so long as the king or queen commanded the legion.”
I’d read that Unseelie rulers had once been gifted the ability to shift into a pytherion—granting them the power to better control the monsters who had the power to destroy too much.
Over the years, many speculating that a secret pairing with a Seelie faerie was to blame, the ability skipped generations and eventually died out. Some texts called it a consequence of a dying species. Now, the only evidence of their connection to the Ashbone family loomed upon King Vane’s back—his wings.
I shivered at the mere thought of such creatures blocking out the sky as they delivered doom, and diverted my attention to the water astride the mountains.
On one side, the River of Serpents, and on the other, the Moss Sea. The only way inland was via heavily guarded river bridges. “But what about threats from sea?”
Chomping on another almond, Vane snorted. After swallowing, he drawled, “Taking inventory of potential weaknesses, Princess?”
Rather than deny it, I asked with a sidelong glance, “Are you admitting there are more?”
He just laughed.
The deep and throaty sound had me dropping the bread into the basket and drinking some water to distract myself from the bubbling in my stomach. I tried to stay on topic but ended up asking what I truly wanted to know. “Where do you go when you disappear for days at a time?”
“Wherever I am needed.”
“Vague, King.” I placed the flower in the basket. He wouldn’t see my next question coming. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t either. “Did you intend to fuck your friend during her visit?”
The look he hurled at me was soaked in shock.
As his features relaxed, a hint of mild offense darkened his gaze. Then a hummed laugh left him. “That’s what this…” He threw his hand at the basket. “This picnic is all about?” His brows furrowed. “Morona?”
I couldn’t deny it. Not entirely. But I would certainly try. “No.”
“No?” he repeated, disbelieving.
Conceding just a little, I confessed, “I mostly wanted to poke you for information about where you’ve been going. What you’re intending.” If it meant hiding my jealousy, I would admit whatever I had to. “I heard you talking about preparations.” Tentatively, I peered up at him. “Don’t suppose I’ll find out now.”
A long silence accompanied a hard stare that gradually softened.
His broad shoulders dropped a fraction as he sighed. “Morona is not only an old friend, but a spy with deep connections due to her ability to shapeshift into insects.” He took the canteen from my fingers, sipping before he went on. “We’re ensuring we’re ready for when the wards fall. Ready to make sure no one tries anything so bold again.”
I sat with all that could mean for a heavy minute.
The more knowledge I gained of this Unseelie realm, the more I began to understand why the Seelie loathed them. With many faeries able to shapeshift, their power was vast. So vast, that if they so desired, they could have this entire continent eating out of the palms of their goddess-blessed hands.
And they might have succeeded if Garran hadn’t garnered military support from my father.
Vane pointed toward the city. “See the sea to the left?” At my nod, he said, “Miles down the coastline is Jade Cove.”
“The trading port.”
He grunted. “Half resides here in The Bonelands, the other in your family’s realm.” He lowered his hand. “As it should be to keep things fair. To maintain order and balance among the humans and the Fae. Now, no ships can reach our port.”
“How are you receiving goods?”
“Some of our people stuck beyond the wards deliver what they can obtain to the border for me to collect.”
“Because you’re the only one who can vanish beyond the wards,” I stated pointedly.
His smirk was confirmation I didn’t need. “But to trade with us means risking execution. Some crews still do, but it’s discreet. Otherwise, we are forced to ambush the warriors who patrol the docks and take what is rightfully ours.”
“You kill them.”
“They kill us, too.” He capped the canteen and tossed it into the basket. “The war never ended with those wards. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”
Elion’s words returned again. War never truly ends.
“We need this curse removed. Not only because it’s not right to exert that type of control over a realm that is not your own but because there are families who’ve been forced apart. Younglings without parents here and in Ethermore. Creatures perishing without the ability to return to their natural habitats. Businesses suffering and failing because of a lack of resources and customers. The list, unfortunately…” He rubbed his chin. “Goes on and on.”
I tried to make sense of it. Not of what he’d said—which made perfect sense—but of Ethermore’s desire to entrap this realm. All this time, it had been said that they merely wished to stop the bloodshed. “Does Ethermore want to control trade?” For that would mean having control over the entire continent. “And to weaken the power this kingdom possesses?”
“Might seem like it, but we know that’s not what sparked this blaze. The blame falls on the root of all good and evil.” His eyes met mine. “Love.”
“Your father truly did love your mother, then.”
Vane’s teeth slid over his lower lip. He released it and looked toward the mountains. “As a noble’s son, my father was born entitled. Yet he always claimed he couldn’t believe he’d been blessed with a marriage to my mother. Although arranged, he loved her instantly. Madly.” He smiled, but it appeared sad. “So madly, I suspect he couldn’t handle her milder affection for him.”
Wanting to dig into why Queen Kalista had fled, I asked around it, “Did you worry for her when she left him?”
He admitted easily, “I was too furious. She’d been gone for many months before Daylia finally told me what my father had done to her.” He swallowed. “She overheard it. But my mother made her vow not to tell another soul, as she was the only one who knew.”
“Your father would have hurt Daylia?”
A huff pushed at his cheeks. “He would’ve killed her, and if she’d been lucky, he’d have made it quick. So I pretended not to know.”
I frowned at his profile, the wind throwing his hair over his distant eyes.
He didn’t bother removing it as he went on. “Though it soon became apparent that although Daylia was the only one to witness his cruelty toward my mother, many had their suspicions. Many knew. They just kept quiet about it until he was killed.”
I wasn’t sure it mattered, yet when he said nothing else, I couldn’t help but question aloud, “What happened when Vorx died?”
“I wasn’t there, but reports claim he fell from the skies due to an injured wing.” His tone hinted at disbelief. “That he landed on fallen arrows, and they punctured his heart. But when I inspected his corpse, his heart was missing. A gaping hole in his chest had been packed with someone’s innards.”
“You suspect foul play,” I surmised.
He tipped a shoulder. “His heart was never found. I assume it was eaten or fed to something else.” Then he turned to me. His crimson hair fluttered over his broad shoulders. “Is that enough intel for one day, Princess?”
No , I didn’t say. “I’ve yet to decide,” I said instead.
His mouth curved.
More questions sat on the tip of my tongue, trapped behind my teeth, for that look in his burning blue eyes… I’d seen it before.
Hunger. Want.
A dare.
I’d seen it upon another male more times than I cared to recall. For whenever I did, the thorns he’d entwined around my heart had sharpened and pressed until I couldn’t draw breath.
I didn’t miss him. I couldn’t. I could never yearn for someone as vile as the Ethermore prince.
But I couldn’t forget him. The memory of him was a shadow, stalking so close it may as well have been my own. He was a nightmare who visited my dreams.
I refused to let him haunt me in broad daylight.
As the king’s taunting gaze morphed into one of contemplation, I looked toward the waves of green, sun-gilded darkness on the horizon. “I want to see it. This military within the Skeleton Mountains.” Vane could very well see my desire to learn what I could as intent to harm him.
But maybe he didn’t.
Perhaps he simply saw it for what it was—a way to arm myself with the knowledge to navigate and survive my perilously uncertain future.
I was inclined to believe it was the latter when he said firmly, “Then I will take you.”
Peering at him, I tilted my head. “When?”
“Whenever you’d like.”
“Tomorrow.”
His jaw fixed, hesitation creasing the corners of his eyes.
“You have plans,” I assumed.
His lips curved again as he watched me closely. So closely, he likely knew I was testing him. “None that I cannot postpone.”
“I can wait,” I said with scathing softness.
His smile broadened into a blinding grin. “I will never keep you waiting, Princess.”
He’d said it in jest, yet those words still seeped beneath my skin to caress my flesh. Legs curling under me, I leaned closer. Not only did I want to know more but I also wanted to listen to him. “Tell me more of this evil love—I want to understand all that happened.”
“I think I’ve said enough for now.”
“You just said you will never make me wait.”
He placed the basket on his other side, then shifted closer. “There is a difference between waiting and timing.”
I laughed. “Faeries and their riddle-like words that make no sense.”
“You speak as if you are not a faerie yourself.” Before I could refute that, he said, “It does make sense. You need only think about it.” He winked. “The right timing is a kindness.”
Even more curious, I said, “I don’t know that I agree.”
“You don’t have to, Princess.” His wing brushed my shoulder as he took a thick lock of my hair, and I could’ve sworn he shivered. He rubbed it between his fingers. “Hair of pure sunshine and eyes of emerald.” His own eyes lifted from the strands to mine. “I desperately want to kiss you.”
If it weren’t for the heat clouding his eyes and drenching his voice, I wasn’t sure I would have believed him.
Still, I asked, “Because of your curse?”
“Because I want to.”
“Fine,” I whispered. “Then you may kiss me.”
His grin vanished every reservation from my head and turned my heartbeat into a giddy dancer. Warm and roughened, his fingers pinched my chin. He tilted it, his head lowering.
My eyes closed, then opened when all I felt was the graze of his nose on my cheek and the warmth of his breath on my mouth. The clashing of our eyes as I awaited his lips on mine was a cruelty.
I felt exposed, nothing but bones, beneath the weight of anticipation.
Right as I went to pull away, his mouth touched mine. Just touched when I’d expected to be devoured. The droop of his long lashes and the rumble that climbed his throat told me it was something else entirely.
A hunter enjoying the slow demise of his prey.
It was nothing but a press. Yet it touched far more than my mouth. Awakened far more than hunger.
My eyes closed when his did.
And fear, different from any I’d felt before, stole my breath as his hands stole my face. He held me there, trapped yet willing, as his mouth molded to mine with an unbearable gentleness that revealed his lips were indeed as soft as I’d wondered.
The wind swayed our hair across one another’s cheeks, and he breathed me in. His exhale was a groan that caused every tense part of me to liquefy.
The way he parted my lips with nothing but the parting of his flooded my body with need.
He’d claimed he had no experience with seducing females, but you didn’t kiss someone like this without intention—without knowing what you would do to them.
The thought sliced through me, a bolt of rage.
I broke free and climbed onto his lap, seizing his cheek and tunic in my hands. “You said you wanted to kiss me.”
He frowned, eyes glazed with lust. “I thought I was.” Then something cleared his confusion. He folded his lips between his teeth, and his hand settled at my hip. It should have warned that I wouldn’t like what he’d say. “He didn’t treat you tenderly.”
My stomach churned.
I didn’t need him to clarify who he was. I was far too interested in getting more from this king, in the erection pressing into my skirts, to care about minding my words. “An understatement.”
Vane didn’t find that amusing.
The hand at my hip gently squeezed. He glanced at the view behind me. “How did he kiss you?”
“Like he hated that he wanted to.” My mouth dried, and my grip on his tunic loosened. “Like he was trying to find out why he wanted to.”
His wings flared slightly, as did his nostrils. Those beautiful eyes darkened a shade when they returned to my face. “You liked it.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t want to discuss Atakan.” Just saying his name tightened my bones. I lowered my mouth over Vane’s. “I just want you to kiss me properly.”
As soon as my lips met his, he grasped my cheek in his other hand, halting me. He stared up at me for seconds that ticked in my ears alongside my heartbeat. He searched my face as if looking for clues to a puzzle.
Then he gave me what I wanted.
His hand slid into my hair. His mouth opened mine instantly. Our tongues touched before his retreated to skim my upper lip. He denied my efforts to fight back with nips of his teeth, one of his canines breaking the skin.
Copper welled and dampened.
He groaned, taking both sides of my face to hold me still as he licked the blood from my lips.
It was more than what I’d expected.
It was exactly what I needed—sweetness veiled in brutality. Every graze of his teeth was chased by a caress of his lips or tongue. Caresses that coaxed, luring me to seek more before he punished me for doing so. A punishment I relished, rocking over him as want fired through me.
Want for him. Want for more. Want for this wondrous distraction to never end.
A breath carrying sound escaped me, earning me an approving groan as I pulled my mouth free from his.
Needy and transfixed, my eyes refused to move from his kiss-reddened lips. “That was…” I swallowed. “Not quite what I had in mind.”
A lie. That kiss had been reminiscent of what I’d grown used to. What I wanted, even if I hadn’t thought I would.
My gaze jumped to his with his rough question. “Did you think of him?”
I didn’t want to admit it. To give him the satisfaction. I also didn’t want to wound him. “No.” The conflicting feelings rasped my voice. “Not at all.”
His hooded eyes searched mine. He brought my face to his. He kissed me once, and whispered, “Then I kissed you properly, Princess.”
I glowered, and he chuckled.
The sound of wheels rolling over rock and dirt quietened the birdsong.
“If you’re still not convinced…” His mouth glossed my cheek as I looked over his shoulder to the returning carriage. “I can kiss you more on the way back.”
I smiled, unable to hide it when he tipped my chin and brushed his thumb over my bottom lip. His gaze lowered to my chest, and his throat bobbed. “You’re almost too lovely to look at.”
Never had I been handed such a compliment. But I’d been given enough insults to know those quiet words hadn’t been one.
I still questioned it, a brow lifting. “Too lovely?”
“Indeed.” He grinned. “The awful things I would do to look at you forevermore.”
He helped me to my feet when I sat there, torn between the desire to kiss him and cuss at him. In the end, I waited until we were seated in the carriage before saying to the window, “Cheating with pretty words won’t do you any favors.”
“I don’t need favors.” I looked at him as he vowed, “This is war, and I intend to win.”