Chapter Thirteen #2
He shrugged, looking away, and that was the moment I realized that Cair was sulking. The big, two-hundred-year-old Fae prince was in a strop because he’d been interrupted during sex, and I had a hard time not finding it adorable.
Pushing off the sink with a grin, I sidled up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and trying to garner his attention. “We can fuck for days when we get back to the human realm,” I said. “It’ll be better that way. No interruptions, and we can go for as long as we need to.”
I knew his blood would be boiling in his veins, desperate to finally reconnect with me again after everything that had happened. However, I also knew he wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of me bonding with Zadok or learning magic after the effort it had taken to get here—and my complaints of boredom for the last week and a half. No matter how much he wanted to throw me over his shoulder and finish what we’d started.
With a deep breath through his nose, he finally glanced down at me and nodded once. “I agree.”
“You could use my mouth later?” I bit my lip suggestively, feigning coyness. “To take the edge off.”
He leaned in, kissing my temple before brushing his lips over my ear. “I’d refrain from baiting me, little one. I could still send you to meet your father with your hole stretched and dripping with my cum. Don’t think I’m holding back for the mere sake of propriety.”
No idea how I managed to leave after that, but I deserved a fucking medal.
* * *
“I have a theory,” Zadok said as we trekked into the middle of an empty field. He seemed excited, so I let him continue. “I think you can open portals.”
My eyes widened, and my feet stopped. “What?”
“Cair mentioned that you found a tome back at the palace with instructions on temporary tears. That tome was mine, by the way,” he said to the empty space beside him, carrying on walking despite my pause. I hurried to catch up. “He said you both used it to travel to and from the human realm, but you thought it was Cair’s Fae blood that allowed their creation. I’m not convinced.”
He shrugged his satchel off his shoulder, laying it on the grass under the single cherry blossom tree at the top of the hill—a detail that stunned me for all of three seconds because I’d expected the same Fae species that surrounded the farmstead, not the human variant, but it was cool all the same. It was beautiful up here, the view and the smattering of wildflowers, but I couldn’t give it the appreciation it deserved as I needed a moment to catch my breath.
Zadok carried on regardless. “As you are my son, I believe we may share similar gifts—portals being one of them—while you’ll also have a few of your own. We may not have the time to get you wielding your magic expertly before you leave, it can take years, but we can at least figure out what we’re working with and go from there. Besides, portals are a good start as they’re not only useful as transport, they are also an escape route should you ever need one.”
I stood from my bent-over, hands-on-knees position. “I want to learn it all.”
He chuckled, the look on his face suggesting he’d expected my answer. “We will see how you do with portals, then perhaps we’ll throw in a few of the basic defensive and offensive spells from that grimoire I gave you. I want you to be able to protect yourself, especially if a war is brewing.”
I nodded enthusiastically, recalling my conversation with Cair the day we’d left the palace. “I want to be able to protect Cair too. I don’t expect to be able to fight on the front lines, but I don’t want to be completely useless. What would be the point in having a skill like this if I can’t use it to protect the people I love?”
His gaze softened, though there was a hint of pain there. “Of course.”
For the next hour or so—maybe even days, I couldn’t tell—Zadok tutored me on how to safely manifest my magic and center it in my palms. He said it was a crucial step. That formally introducing myself to my power and coaxing it to one area of my body before a spell made it easier to steer. It also meant I’d achieve the desired effects from incantations much quicker.
Oh, and there would be less chance of it accidentally bursting out and wreaking havoc. You know, because that was super important.
“Once you master this, you’ll be able to call on your magic much more naturally,” he reminded me for the fifteenth time, and I didn’t doubt it.
Problem was, I couldn’t seem to get the hang of it.
“It’s not happening.” I threw up my hands in frustration, so close to tearing out my hair. If he hadn’t been there, I’d have given up way before now. I was a persistent fucker when it came to my special interests, but I had a limit, and if I wasn’t seeing any progress after the first few attempts, I didn’t want it.
Zadok sent me a look . “You’ve only tried six times.”
“Can’t I just try to open a portal?” I grumbled, wiping the sweat off my brow. That sun was killing me. “Clearly you think I’ve done it before, so…”
“I do, but I also believe it was a mere coincidence. You followed the symbols in the book and it happened, but you had no control over it. Now that your powers are wholly unleashed, it makes sense to learn how to wield them. Trust me, putting in the work to get this right will make everything else so much smoother in the long run.”
“You’re the mage, I guess.” I exhaled a long breath, shaking out my hands. “Can you show me one more time?”
He nodded and took a step back, extending his arms. “Remember when I told you that your magic is a friend? Well, this is not about controlling or forcing it. Visualize each tendril, feel it storming in your veins, wild and free. Gently beckon its attention, encourage it to your fingertips, instead of commanding. You want it to work with you, not for you.”
With a graceful flick of his wrists, he demonstrated again, but this time, instead of opening a portal as before, a purple flame surged from his palms, a wyvern forming within its glow. The phantom beast snarled through finger-sized fangs, its nostrils flaring before it opened its jaws wide and expelled an impressive torrent of fire. I leaped backward, my mouth hanging open, and moments later, Zadok retracted it without even flinching or breaking a sweat.
“Woah.” I steadied myself, looking at him with wide, impressed eyes. “Guess you like wyverns then, huh?”
“Yes,” he said, visibly delighted that I’d noticed and that he could talk about it. “They are fascinating creatures. Did you know they have the intelligence to communicate with us through telepathy, but often choose not to for self-preservation reasons?”
“I didn’t.”
“Mm-hmm. If a bond of trust is formed between you and a wyvern, it’s entirely possible they’ll not only speak with you, but be a loyal companion for life.”
I smiled at his eagerness. “Is that what you’re hoping for with Leaf?”
“If she felt that I was worthy enough to be considered a friend, and to hear her voice, I would be greatly honored.”
“I mean, she must think something of you if she’s still here, right? Cair said she tried setting him on fire when he first dropped in.” And he was very salty about it. “If she didn’t trust you at least a little bit, she wouldn’t defend your home.”
Zadok huffed a small laugh. “She is very protective for one so young, but that’s probably because I nurtured her from an egg.” I tilted my head, curious. “I found her in an empty nest, among the shells of her siblings, clearly abandoned by her mother when she took too long to hatch.” I frowned, and he shrugged. “It happens. Wyvern migrate once their younglings have hatched. They grow impatient, and often leave the runt behind since they slow them down.”
“That’s awful.”
“It’s the way of life, unfortunately. I’m just glad I found her in time, and that she feels safe enough to stick around.” He had a fond expression on his face that I couldn’t help reacting to with another smile. “If she wishes to leave, that is entirely her choice, though I hope she stays. She’s part of the family.”
For some reason, an image of her lying across my dad’s sofa like a contented house cat crossed my mind. It was cute, but… “Will she grow?”
“Yes, though she may never be as big as a house. Perhaps a large horse?” Hm, a horse would probably still fit on the couch . It would flatten the cushions, though. “Whatever happens, she will be fierce, I can tell.”
“She’ll be like that flame thing you conjured. Only with her tongue lolling out of her mouth more.”
He snorted. “And much more attitude.”
I laughed as the vision came to me, which prompted another question. “Is everyone’s magic a different color?”
“Yes. It can depend on many factors: your soul’s intentions, the particular strain of magic you possess, or the circumstances of your birth. My magic is purple because my parents were nobles. Purple is the royal color.” Ah, I guessed that explained the banners throughout the palace with the hydra crest. “Your magic takes on a green hue because I suspect you are very nature-oriented. Do you have an affinity for plants, by chance?”
“Yeah.”
“Then that may be your skill set—nurturing the fruits of the earth and encouraging life,” he explained, and that definitely piqued my interest. “You also have a kind aura. You emanate a sense of peace and calmness, which could prove extremely useful in hostile situations.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Peace and calmness? Was that why my head was a total chaos tornado every damn second of the day? Because all that serenity was flowing outward instead of inward? What irony. “Wait…” Realization dawned on me. “Is that why even the grumpiest of grumps relax around me?”
“Most likely.”
“And here I thought it was my abundance of wit and charm.”
“Or your ability to deflect and stall,” he jibed, and I winced. “Try again.”
“It’s not working.”
“It will,” he said gently. His hand lifted as if he had the impulse to reach out and comfort me with a touch, but he thought better of it. He balled his fingers into a fist at his side instead. “Just not on the first try.”
“Fine. Once more, then I’m done for the day.” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and shaking out my limbs, readying myself to fail again.
“If you imagine yourself failing, you’re going to fail,” he cut in, sounding vaguely amused. “Think positive.”
Damn, is he in my head?
“I can read your expression,” he clarified.
My eyes rolled behind my eyelids, and I allowed myself another deep breath before inviting in the happy thoughts. Cair was the first to appear, of course. His devilish smirk, his piercing eyes, his devotion. He was perfect in every way, my entire universe, and would always be my happiest thought.
A bird chirped somewhere in the distance, and it took every ounce of strength in me not to latch onto the specific cadence and stray down the path of figuring out its species by sound alone. It was probably a bluebird, but given the time of year and the heat, it could also have been a?—
Focus.
With a violent head shake, I sank deeper, my mind and body finally relaxing through sheer force of will. The next visions that came to me were of the farm and the Otherworld—my home. Both were accompanied by a feeling of safety; it surrounded me as scene after scene played behind my eyes like a silent film, a comfortable blanket wrapping around my shoulders.
Finding my dad.
Figuring out I have magic.
Being able to protect my mate.
Suddenly, I became conscious of myself inwardly, vividly aware of the inner workings of my body as if my eyes had rolled too far and become detached. It was startling, and I almost lost that concentration, but familiar green rivulets dancing to a tuneless melody captivated my attention, swirling inside like droplets of colorful ink in water. It showed no signs of responding to my presence, and I could have watched the mesmerizing display for hours, but Zadok’s dulcet tones echoed in my ear, prompting me to keep going.
I reached out as he’d instructed, as if enticing a timid creature, willing my mind to capture its attention. For a beat, there was no change except for the faintest sensation of being perceived—a fizzle, as if a shiver had run down its spine, alerting it to my observation. I tried again, softer, more patient, and that feeling only heightened until the emerald wisps finally faced me. Goose bumps rose on my skin. It had no eyes, no features at all, but I knew it was studying me, deciphering my intentions. It shifted closer, chittering with caution, curiosity , and when I didn’t give it any reason to retreat, it flickered brighter, whirling around me as if in giddy recognition. I heard myself laugh, and it embraced me, a buzz of energy welcoming me like an old friend.
Once it settled, I imagined myself offering my hand in a wordless request.
It accepted.
My eyes flew open, and I was back on the hill, the sun beaming down on me, the scent of wildflowers in my nose. I lifted my arms, gasping at the sight of green flames coiling around my fingers. “Holy sh?—”
“That’s it, lad.” The elation radiating from Zadok was utterly infectious. “Now, keep a hold of it, and open a portal. Just like we practiced.”
I drew invisible symbols as I visualized what I wanted. There was a stir in the air, a rush of sensation, and a tear appeared at our feet, a river not unlike the Veil, only fluorescent green. It stayed there, taking no effort, no real concentration, as if it was as natural to me as breathing. I had complete control, widening it with a mere thought or shrinking it with a gesture of my hand.
It listened to me, and as soon as I wanted it to disappear, I did so by simply waving it away. My magic gradually dimmed, sinking back into my body, unmistakably satisfied with its accomplishments, and I just stood there.
Blinking.
“I did it,” I muttered dumbly, distantly hearing Zadok’s celebratory cheer.
“You did it!” He let out a guttural laugh, and before I could even comprehend the sensation of thin arms scooping me into a bear hug and my feet leaving the ground, I was in the air, being twirled. “Well done, my son. You are extraordinary!”
I was set back down within seconds, wobbling unsteadily as I laughed at his antics. He ruffled my curls, beaming proudly, and I felt a sense of fulfillment bloom in my chest.
All this time, I had thought it was Cair opening those temporary tears around the palace, and sending us to his apartment in the human realm, but it was me. Me . It actually made sense now that it was all laid out. Not only was the magic green, instead of purple like the Veil, but anytime my mate had tried conjuring one on his own, he’d been unsuccessful. Only when I was there, standing beside him, had he made progress. It had just never occurred to either of us that it was my blood, my dormant magic that was the cause. Even now, I could hardly believe it.
I’m a freaking mage!
It wasn’t until I’d wiped the tears of happiness from my eyes that I saw Flick striding up the hill toward us, an axe slung over his shoulder—his very naked shoulder, I noted belatedly. He’d obviously decided to go to work without his shirt this morning since it was hot as balls outside. Couldn’t blame him, and if I didn’t have cum drying on my belly, and my dad wasn’t there, I would probably have done the same.
“Well done, junior.” He congratulated me in that gruff voice of his before addressing Zadok. “I’m heading down to fix the fence. I won’t be in your way.”
I’d already known he was muscular—his shirts, though baggy, barely concealed anything—but seeing it all on display, he was in a whole different league. Not that I was staring. Absolutely not. Okay, I was, but it was respectful, not leering in any way. I was just really fucking impressed. I’d also guessed from the scars on his face that he’d have more on his body, and it was completely involuntary how my eyes did a quick dart over them before I managed to look away. They were mostly small, scattered across his green skin in various locations— from farming, maybe? —but the most obvious was the slash from his hip to his belly button, and the two twin lines sitting horizontal under his pecs.
“You’re never in the way, beloved,” Zadok said, and the term of endearment had a smile tugging at my lips. It was nice to see them so in love.
“Regardless, I’ll let you two get on.” Flick sent a parting wink to my dad before walking away. Zadok stared after him, eyeing his partner’s backside appreciatively.
I snorted.
“Hey, if I don’t have the time for that , neither do you.”
The poor guy almost gave himself whiplash turning his face back to me. He spluttered, cheeks going red. “I wasn’t even—” He noticed my amused smirk and cut himself off with a huff, shaking his head. “Well played. Now…” He clasped my shoulder, squeezing gently in encouragement. “Let’s see how far you can take us, shall we?”
* * *
We sat in the shade of the towering cherry blossom, a blanket beneath us, taking a break from the blistering heat. Zadok had packed us a picnic in his satchel, and he’d assured me that Flick was responsible for the cooking this time when he’d clocked my wary look.
It was nice just being in each other’s company, eating our meat pies, and talking about nothing in particular. I’d managed to take us to all four corners of the Outerlands, the transition becoming smoother and smoother each time I tried. I probably could have gone farther, but Zadok was nervous about leaving the boundaries of the island, and casting magic was really taxing, so I needed to recuperate before trying again.
Or before moving on to more intricate spell casting.
“You look so much like your mother,” Zadok mused, and my eyes snapped to him from where I’d been taking in the scenery. He startled as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Sorry, if that made you uncomfortable. I didn’t?—”
“It didn’t.” I cut in with a smile. “People always used to tell me that, when they weren’t being mean.” He frowned, and I waved him off. “She used to say it to me herself, and that she was so glad I mostly took after her. Except my curls and my eyes. Those were yours, and I… think she kinda hated that.”
He nodded sadly. “She didn’t tell you anything about me? Nothing at all?”
“No.” I stared down at the pastry in my hands, picking at it for a distraction. “And whenever I asked, she’d say some choice words and tell me to forget about it. She wouldn’t even entertain the idea of me crossing the barrier into the Fae side of the city, or trying to sate my curiosities about monsters. I never understood it, I thought she was just bigoted like all the others, but… I suppose she had a different reason entirely.”
I felt awful for being angry at her, for almost resenting her once I crossed the border. We’d had a tricky relationship because of the obsession she’d had with sheltering me, but now that I knew it was genuine fear and trauma from what had happened, I wished I had been more sympathetic. Taken the time to understand. She’d still hidden the truth about my father, but she wasn’t at fault.
No one was.
Well, except the king.
“I can’t exactly blame her, can I?” Zadok muttered. “Not if her first real interaction with our kind was me disappearing without a trace, and while she was pregnant at that.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, looking frustrated. “Did she… did she ever find solace with anyone else? After me, I mean. I don’t ask out of jealousy, I have no right, only that I hope she was able to move on. Have a good life.”
“She was with a guy when I was a kid,” I said, thinking back with a squint. “Trey. He was pretty cool. It was what kick-started my interest in you, ’cause I called him Dad once and he corrected me—said he was my step dad. She told me they’d been together since before I was born, so it wasn’t exactly a wild assumption to make. Their marriage fell apart, though, as these things often do. I think it was just loneliness for her, and the fear of raising a kid on her own. It wasn’t purely love.” I shrugged, gazing at him. “She had no one else after that—or none she introduced me to anyway—but I think she was somewhat content with that. She always told me I was everything she needed, and despite her anxieties about monsters, she lived a full life. Was she happy? I don’t know, but I think she tried to be.”
“I never meant to cause her any suffering. Please know that.”
“I do.”
“I adore the life that I have now. I love Flick, I feel freer than I ever have, and I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.” His fingers fidgeted in his lap. “But I wish I could have told her what was happening, at least. The king was going to banish me regardless, but all those years she spent wondering where I’d gone, hating me, hating our kind, keeping you from knowing anything, could have been prevented with a single letter or conversation.” He gritted his teeth, fury emanating from him. “I will despise Naeron until the end of my days for what he did.”
Hearing the king’s real name spoken with such disdain was jarring—I barely resisted the compulsion to look over my shoulder as if he’d somehow appear from thin air. “He won’t get away with it, I swear.”
Zadok smiled at me, the expression full of appreciation, before lapsing into a reminiscent silence. He scanned the forest surrounding the farmstead, and when he spoke again, he sounded sentimental. “She was the reason I came here—to Rosewood Creek. I’d seen the name in a ledger, and the description of the rose-colored petals on the trees felt like fate. I didn’t care that it was in the Outerlands, I bought it anyway with the dream of one day bringing Rosemary through the Veil and raising a family here. A delusion. I knew the king would never allow it, but that impulsiveness just proves how mindlessly in love I was.” He laughed softly, and I stayed silent, listening intently.
“I didn’t hesitate to come here after my banishment,” he carried on, not meeting my eyes. “I was… not in a good place back then, and I wanted something, anything , to help me feel closer to her again. For a while, it didn’t help. It actually made it worse… stewing in my torment, reminded of what I had lost every time I looked up at those trees. I still have bad days, but now, instead of feeling sadness whenever I think of her, the good memories are the ones that usually prevail. Her smile, her laugh, her kindness, her warmth.
“Not a day went by that I didn’t think of her.” He finally glanced up at me, his eyes glassy. “She was a special person in my life, and she will always own a piece of my heart. I felt it when she passed, when the mating bond snapped, but by that point, I was better equipped to deal with the ache in my soul. This tree…” He gestured to the cherry tree we sat under, its blushing pink and white leaves scattered over the grassy hill. “I planted it for her, in her memory. I couldn’t do much more, though I wished I could.”
Ah , of course. Cherry blossoms were her favorites, and that attention to detail—considering he would’ve had to import the seed from the human realm and then nurture it to maturity with his magic—made my heart ache.
“You can’t blame yourself forever,” I said, keeping my tone gentle, meaning every word. “Everything that happened wasn’t your fault.”
“I know. I owe a lot to Flick. He was so patient. He got me through it all, helped me heal. Helped me realize the atrocities I’d suffered. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m more confident now that I will be.” He lifted his hand, resting it on my shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. The pressure was nice. “And I have a feeling that now you are in my life, it will only get better from here.”
I beamed at him, my eyes stinging with unshed tears and my heart expanding in my chest. My magic trilled happily in response. I’d waited so long to have this, envisioned a paternal connection since I was a kid, and now that it was right in front of me, there was an overwhelming sense of relief in my soul. A missing puzzle piece finally slotting into place.
“I feel the same.”