7. Aflora
AFLORA
“Don’tI need a new wand, too?” I asked after the AcaWard figments finished wrapping up all my purchases into boxes. Ella had chosen the expedited shipping method so the items would go directly to the Academy, freeing up our hands for the afternoon.
“Kols didn’t destroy your wand,” Tray replied, leaning against the wall with a bored expression. “It’s impossible to do since they’re gifts from the source and conduits of our magic, not actual items. He probably has it somewhere. I’ll ask him for it when we get back.”
“Oh.” I suppressed the urge to grimace for the thousandth time today.
Kols destroyed all my things.
Because he hates me.
Because we’re mated.
I swallowed the feelings whirling around in my throat, compliments of my churning stomach. I didn’t want Ella or Tray to see the mess I was inside, so I’d spent the better half of our day holding myself together and pretending not to care about what Kols had done.
Yet my heart fractured a little more each time.
Technically, it’s my room.
What a lovely reminder of my lack of a place in this world. My presence was deemed temporary, a life to be snuffed out at the earliest sign of trouble.
Except the Council had let me go because Shade doctored the tapes. Which implied Kols had gone along with his explanation.
Why?
I didn’t understand their choices. We all knew I was an abomination and a threat, but none of them took the opportunity to turn me in. Maybe because they feared the Council’s reaction to our quad-bond.
Frowning, I accepted the cloak hanging before me on some invisible hook and draped it over my shoulders to cover my skirt and blouse combo. My new boots hit me at my knees and added a few inches to my height. The outfit proved suitable for our plans this afternoon, which included food and drinks. Apparently, Tray knew of a little place in the village that catered to all types of fae appetites, not just Midnight Fae. They even carried spritemead on tap.
A little jolt of excitement zipped through me at the reminder, helping to distract me from my more morose thoughts.
Kolstov could rot with the willow stumps for the afternoon.
I had other plans.
Lifting my head high, I looked at Ella and Tray. “I think that’s everything.”
“All your books have been sent on as well,” Tray said, his arm automatically lifting to accommodate Ella as she sidled up to his side.
“Thanks, Nacht.” She brushed her mouth against his square jaw, and he caught her mouth with his own for a sweet kiss before nuzzling her neck.
The two of them fit together like two petals on a perfect flower. My heart gave a little pang that I swiftly ignored, not willing to let my not-so-perfect mates sour my mood once more.
I was done moping.
Not that I’d really ever started.
So Kols burned all my things. They weren’t even mine to begin with. Just like the room. Let him throw his inferno tantrums and destroy the items his family had bought. Fine. It didn’t matter.
They betrayed me. Locked me up. Didn’t tell me what the hell was going on.
Okay, also fine. They could play their games with themselves from now on because I was done.
No more mates.
No more dreams.
No more anything.
Totally not practical resolutions, but I’d figure them out. Somehow.
“I need a spritemead,” I announced, interrupting Ella and Tray’s adorable little moment.
He stopped nibbling her jaw to smirk at me. “Then I know just the place.”
The packages all whirled around us in a wave of magic before sailing straight through a solid wall toward whatever enchanted express would take them back to the Academy. Hopefully, they would remain untouched until my return. Not likely, but I’d deal with that later.
Along with all the other issues in my life.
For now, I wanted to indulge my Elemental Fae tastes.
The walk through town revealed a lot of cloak-clad fae wandering the streets in pursuit of a late midnight lunch, just like us. But the tavern Tray led us to wasn’t overcrowded with patrons, leaving several booths open near the windows for us to pick from. The wooden tables were dark in color and adorned with candles that illuminated the darker interior. No ceiling lights or lamps, just fire, and the occasional torch near the corner bar.
Slightly spooky, but oddly homey because of the fireplace in the opposite corner lined with bookshelves. A gargoyle crawled up onto our table, his expression bored. “What’ll it be?”
“Three spritemeads, please,” Ella said. “And some menus.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the stone creature grumbled before jumping down with a loud crunch as his stone feet met the marble floor.
I winced, thinking that sounded rather painful, but his wings crinkled at his back as he strutted off toward the bar. He seemed to weave pretty easily between the array of high-top tables and stools, so it must not have hurt at all.
“Three spritemeads, hmm?” Tray asked.
“Aflora swears it’s good, so we’re going to find out.”
“I’ve already tried spritemead,” he replied, touching his index finger to the tip of her nose from across the table. He’d chosen one side of the booth, while we shared the opposite bench.
“And is it good?” she pressed.
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” He winked at her. “But I’m getting a proper beer to go with mine.”
“Proper beer,” she echoed, glancing at me and wrinkling her nose. “He likes human beer from Germany best. I’m not a fan of any of it.”
“I’m not a fan of human drinks in general,” I replied. “No offense.”
“None taken. But hot chocolate is divine.”
“On that, I agree.” We had our own version as Elemental Fae, but it was similar enough. Just with a few additional spices.
Three pints of spritemead appeared before us on the table with an array of menus cascading across the top. Tray slammed his palm on the top of them to stop the colorful array of papers from flying to the floor, their windy arrival kicking up quite the little tornado across our booth. It disappeared with a flourish, but not before brushing the hair from our faces and leaving us all with a windswept kiss across our foreheads.
“Well, that’s different,” I breathed.
Tray snorted. “That’s a gargoyle being an asshole.” He glared over his shoulder at the stone creature in question. “Find a new occupation if you don’t want to wait tables.”
“Oh, it’s my fault. He’s in a mood from having to man the counter for me while I whipped up some stir-fry in the back.” A woman with long white hair and dark green eyes seemed to appear beside us, her features young yet oddly old at the same time. Like she’d lived a long life and had seen a lot, too. But there wasn’t a single wrinkle marring her otherwise lovely face. How interesting.
“Hey, Anrika,” Tray drawled, his easy grin creasing into a pair of dimples that seemed to make Ella swoon a little. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to know everyone. He’d addressed all the figments by name in AcaWard as well, despite them being invisible. “How’s the family?”
“You mean Seif?” she asked, snorting. “He’s reckless and stubborn and just like his father.”
“Which is why you adore them both.”
“Absolutely.” Her expression radiated pride. “But yeah, he’s good. I’ll tell him you were asking after him. He’s been a bit busy lately with his errant Omega. She’s giving him hell, which, of course, means I approve.”
“Omega?” I repeated, frowning. “Like a Fortune Fae?”
“Yeah, Seif chose the seer life over his dark magic and blood. Crazy, right?” Tray winked at Anrika as he spoke.
I took a sip of my spritemead as Anrika replied, “He’s always had a mind of his own, that one. But Gina’ll be a good match once he calms her down.”
I coughed, the liquid going down the wrong pipe, causing Ella to thump me on the back. Three sets of eyes looked at me in confusion, Tray arching a brow. “Not up to your standards, princess?”
“No, not that,” I managed to say, my voice hoarse from the drink flowing in an inappropriate direction. I cleared my throat twice before asking, “Gina?”
“Yeah, that’s his reluctant mate’s name. I’ve not met her yet. Why? The name mean something to you?”
The vision of a coffee shop and a dark-haired Fortune Fae sprang into my mind. Gina, she’d told me. Just before adding something about our paths crossing as a happenstance of fate.
“It’s going to be an interesting year for you, Aflora,” she’d said.
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time.
But now…
“You’re in his thoughts now, after all.”
I blinked and found all three of them staring at me expectantly. “Uh, I may have met a Fortune Fae named Gina recently. In a coffee shop in the Human Realm.”
“Huh, well, I’ll be,” Anrika murmured, a distant gleam giving her that elderly aura once more. Such a strange contrast to her otherwise youthful features. Like her age was somehow trapped in a young Midnight Fae form.
Of course, all the Midnight Fae appeared young. They stopped physically aging in their twenties. This woman could be thousands of years old. Perhaps that was the reason I caught such an ancient quality to her appearance.
It would probably be rude to ask, so I didn’t.
“You’re Aflora,” she said suddenly, that odd aura disappearing in a flash, replaced by her young self once more. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard all about you.”
“From Gina?” I asked, slightly taken aback by her age-shifting trick. Am I the only one seeing that?
“Oh, no. From a very old friend.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’m most excited to have you here, sweetheart. And I imagine you’re in the mood for something from home, yes?”
A very old friend? I wondered. However, she’d asked me a question. Etiquette dictated I needed to answer that first. “Yes, please. I would love a proper sandwich.”
“I have just what you’re looking for,” she beamed. “Wings for Tray, yes?”
“Always.”
I almost asked what wings were, when Anrika asked, “And what about you, Ella darling? Wings, too?”
“Sure. It’s been a while since I had some good buffalo sauce.”
“Anrika’s wings are the best,” Tray vowed.
“Yeah?” A glimmer of humor entered Ella’s gaze. “All right. I trust you.”
Anrika clapped her hands, causing the menus to disappear before we ever had a chance to read them. “I’ll be back in a shuffle,” she announced, vanishing into a cloud of glitter that left me coughing in her wake.
Tray laughed.
As did Ella. “Well, she’s fun. Why haven’t you brought me here before if her wings are so amazing?”
“Because we’ve been on our tour of chicken around the kingdoms, Isabella. I had to save the best for last.”
“Uh-huh.” She gave him a fond look before glancing at me. “He has a thing for chicken wings. It goes back to our very first date, actually.”
“Ah, that was a fun night. Your first visit to the Midnight Fae realm.”
“Fun? I wanted to kill you that night.”
“But you didn’t. You even let me kiss you. Twice.”
Ella grumbled something unflattering at him before adding, “I didn’t like Tray much when we first met. He was kind of a dick.”
Tray snorted. “She misunderstood my intentions.”
“Because you were an asshole.”
He lifted a shoulder. “My plan worked in the end, didn’t it? You’re mine.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she scoffed, rolling her big blue eyes. But I caught the happiness radiating beneath her expression, her absolute joy at having him in her life.
They really were a fine couple.
Very unlike me and my mates.
Whom I refused to think about.
No. No. No.
“So her son is a Fortune Fae?” Ella asked Tray, providing a fantastic distraction from my mind. “Like one of the Midnight Fae Alphas I learned about last year?”
“Yep. He chose to abstain from blood and magic all his life and turned Fortune Fae as a result. An Alpha, as you said. Fangs and all.” He bared his teeth at Ella, causing her to snort.
“Still don’t understand why you vampires don’t have fangs,” she muttered.
“Actually, I’ve never understood that either,” I admitted. “Anatomically speaking, it makes sense since Midnight Fae drink blood.”
“Exactly,” Ella said, waving a hand in finality.
“Our incisors are sharp enough without the additional fang point,” Tray drawled.
“Yet Midnight Fae males who don’t drink blood end up getting fangs as a Fortune Fae Alpha. Yeah, that makes sense.” The way Ella said it implied it didn’t make sense at all. Which I agreed with her on. Then again, I had pointed ears and that seemed silly, too. They served no purpose, and I heard just as well as any other fae.
“Fortune Fae are a different breed of puzzles,” Tray murmured.
“So what happens to female Midnight Fae who reject their dark source?” Ella asked, frowning. “We never covered that in class.”
“Because they become Norms,” he replied. “Not as exciting.”
“What’s a Norm?” Ella asked.
A type of Fortune Fae, I thought, while Tray dove into a political lesson that more than intrigued his mate. She peppered him with questions that took up the majority of our meal, which was fine by me. I sat by and listened while I enjoyed my sandwich—which was indeed a proper one with shrooms and all the fixings. Anrika brought me a second spritemead without asking if I wanted one, giving me a wink before disappearing into glitter once more. The magic reminded me a bit of Shade’s, only he preferred the dark smog to happy confetti.
I sipped my drink while thinking about him and his promise before he left.
Anytime.
A hopeful part of me wanted to believe that he meant it. The intelligent part of me refused.
None of the guys could be trusted.
That much I knew with certainty.
Yet, Shade had given me a glimpse of home today. Had even coached me a bit on how to handle my collar.
Not the signs of a male who wanted to hurt me.
“Ready?” Tray asked, drawing me from my thoughts. “It’s an hour before dawn, and Kols is probably ready to come find us.”
I glanced out the windows and noticed the mostly vacant streets.
“Oh.” I hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten. We’d spent a good chunk of the midnight hours in this tavern, indulging in food and conversation. And spritemead. “I would very much like to come back here.” Wait… I wanted to find out what Anrika had meant about her old friend.
I glanced around for the woman and frowned at the empty surroundings. “Ah, we’re the last ones here.”
“Yeah, Anrika closed up an hour ago,” Tray said with a chuckle. “She left right after giving you that last mug of spritemead. Told her irritated pet to see us out.” He gestured with his chin toward the stone-faced gargoyle standing absolutely still by the door. All eighteen inches of him seemed to bristle with irritation without actually moving. Impressive.
“Pet,” it muttered, the stones grating with astute annoyance. “Leave.”
Tray smirked. “Sure.”
We exited the booth, and Tray bent to pat the little gargoyle on the head. “Have a good night, little guy.”
The thing growled in reply, the sound far more ferocious than any being that size should be able to make. Ella squeaked and practically shoved Tray out into the cool air of the night, with me right behind them.
He bent over laughing, clearly having indulged in more than a few beers and spritemeads combined.
Oh, but we all had.
What a fun night.
I actually felt warm. Sort of like I was floating on a cloud. I started to hum as we walked, the song one my mother taught me long ago. A sad little ballad with words I didn’t quite understand, but ones I’d memorized nonetheless.
It wasn’t until I hit the second verse that I realized both Ella and Tray were gaping at me. “What?” I asked, my cheeks heating at their open perusal. “My voice isn’t that bad.”
“No, it’s the song. It’s haunting,” Ella whispered.
“It’s forbidden,” Tray corrected. “Where did you learn those words?”
“What?” I asked, startled by his sudden vehemence. “How could a children’s ballad be forbidden?”
“Because you’re singing about spells used to realign the source,” he replied, glancing around as if to make sure no one else heard. “We need to go.” He moved with urgency toward the cloakroom I’d used with Zeph a little over two months ago during my first week in this realm. Only, we all already wore our cloaks this time because of the cooler weather.
Tray activated the portal and took us directly to the crow field at the Academy.
A few students watched our arrival with interest but didn’t stand in our way or try to speak with us. Which was good because Tray didn’t appear in the mood for conversation. He practically stormed down the obsidian sidewalk, past the burning thwomps and bare bushes, ignoring all the writhing snakes along the various posts and fences, and led us up the stairs into the Elite Residence.
The doors parted with a flourish, not needing a code because of whatever Tray did with his hand. And up the master staircase we went to the third floor.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ella demanded as we approached the gargoyle at the end of the hall. Apparently, Kols had undone whatever spell Shade had cast over the creature. Its beady red eyes glared upon seeing me, as if blaming me for the earlier incident.
Join the club, I thought at it. Everyone in this place seems to think I’m at fault for something.
“We’ll talk in the suite,” Tray muttered, his voice holding an edge to it.
Ella frowned at him. “Fine.”
Great.
There went my happy evening. All because of a song. I shook my head and followed them inside, ready to face whatever else waited to be thrown my way. Because at this point, what was one more mark on my record?