Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
When the Dryad Queen told us to follow the lights, she apparently meant those glowing golden orbs that float between the trees.
After putting our clothes back on, Draven and I found a trail of those shimmering spheres running straight into the forest in one direction.
I glance at them as we follow them towards where I’m assuming the Dryad Queen is waiting for us.
The small balls seem to almost pulse, making me wonder if they’re actually some kind of living creature rather than a product of magic. It’s hard to tell, though, since my knowledge of the dryads and the strange woods they live in is incredibly limited.
We walk for a surprisingly long time before we finally see a group of people standing inside a large ring of those floating orbs. Lyra is inspecting a glowing sphere next to her. There is a smile on her face as she watches it. From across their loose circle, Alistair watches her.
Galen is pacing back and forth, trampling the soft grass underneath his boots, while Orion simply stands there with his back straight, looking effortlessly regal and unbothered. A few steps away, Isera is leaning her back against a tree, her arms crossed over her chest.
All of them turn their heads to look at us when we come into view.
Relief washes across Galen’s face. “You’re okay.”
Draven nods, a smile on his face. “Yeah.”
All our friends glance between the two of us, noting how close together we’re walking as we make our way over to them. A mix of confusion and hope flits across both Galen’s and Lyra’s features, but neither of them clearly dares to ask the question.
“You sure took your sweet time getting here,” Orion drawls, cocking an impatient brow.
“We, uhm…” I glance over at Draven before finish with, “Got lost.”
Isera slides a knowing look at me. “Your pants are buttoned incorrectly.”
Heat stains my cheeks when I snap my gaze down to find that I did in fact button them wrong in my haste to put them back on.
Orion lets out a dramatic sigh and gives us a reproachful look. “Not only did you waste all of our time by stopping to have hate sex, you also make us look like a ragtag group of losers with no fashion sense. Delightful.”
“Not hate sex,” Draven replies, his eyes glinting. “Just… sex.”
Galen and Lyra suck in a sharp breath. Even Alistair stands up straighter and stares at me with his eyebrows raised in silent question.
“You found a way to remove the magic?” Galen asks, flicking his gaze between me and Draven.
“No,” I reply. A wide smile spreads across my lips as I nod towards Draven. “He shattered it on his own.”
Even Isera raises her eyebrows now.
“But I thought that wasn’t possible,” Alistair says, staring between the two of us. “I thought it was permanent.”
“It is,” I reply. “It shouldn’t be possible. But…”
Trailing off, I look to Draven as we at last come to a halt in front of our friends. Glowing spheres float around us all in a wide circle, bathing the lush green woods in golden light. Draven slides an arm around my waist, resting his hand on my hip possessively.
“It wouldn’t have been possible without the mate bond,” he explains.
“Everything Selena was doing, every time I was near her, I could feel our mate bond fighting to reconnect. I was trapped underneath that mass of hatred burning in my chest, but eventually, the connection between us grew so strong again that I could use the mate bond like a rope to haul myself out of that burning hatred.”
“Yes!” Lyra exclaims, a wide grin on her mouth.
There is a glint in Alistair’s green and orange eyes as he levels a knowing look on Draven. “Not surprised.”
Draven raises his eyebrows at him in silent question.
“Someone as annoyingly bossy as you would never let some random magic tell you what to do.” He shrugs. “You earned the nickname I gave you, you know.”
A surprised laugh escapes Draven’s chest, and he pulls me a little closer to his side.
From her place by the tree, Isera meets my gaze and gives me a nod while the hint of a smile shines on her lips. I smile back.
“You’re all finally here, I see,” the Dryad Queen suddenly says from my left.
Twisting my head in that direction, I find her gliding out of the woods.
Her hair and her dress, all made of leaves and vines and branches, ripple behind her as she moves.
When she reaches the circle of floating lights, the glowing spheres part before her without a word or even a glance from her.
They pulse slightly, casting that glittering golden light over her pale green skin.
Draven slides his arm from my waist as we turn to face her fully.
Galen, Lyra, and Alistair do the same while Orion, who was already looking in her direction, just remains standing there with that customary royal and slightly cocky tilt to his chin.
Isera remains leaning against the tree, her arms crossed over her chest, but she narrows her eyes slightly as she watches the Dryad Queen who comes to a halt in front of our now loosely formed semi-circle.
“And you have some explaining to do,” I reply, some of that anger returning to my soul. Standing up straighter, I level a hard stare on the Dryad Queen. “Why did you stop me from killing Lavendera?”
Indignation flashes across her ancient face, and she raises her chin but doesn’t respond.
“You promised to help,” I remind her, that sharpness still lacing my voice. “In exchange for us not hurting Lavendera, you promised us help, so the least you can do is answer my question. Why did you stop me from killing her?”
“She’s…” The Dryad Queen clenches her jaw before finishing the sentence with a vague, “One of us.”
I frown at her. “What does that mean?”
She just looks back at me in stubborn silence.
“Lavendera is obviously not a dryad,” I press. “She’s fae. Or half fae, at least.”
My friends raise their eyebrows at me in surprise.
“I think she might be the child of Emperor Bane and one of his previous fae life slaves,” I explain.
Lyra sucks in a sharp breath.
Next to her, Alistair stares at me with eyebrows raised while thoughts churn behind his eyes. “It would certainly explain her weird loyalty to them.”
“Yes. Though it’s still just a theory.” I shift my gaze back to the Dryad Queen. “Regardless, she’s clearly not a dryad. So what did you mean by she’s one of us?”
The leaves and vines in her hair continue rippling around her as if on a phantom wind as she just keeps looking back at me in silence, her jaw stubbornly clenched.
“Is it because she has tree magic?” I push.
“The reason is irrelevant,” she finally replies. Power and command both lace her voice and gleam in her brown eyes as she stares me down. “What matters is that we want her. And we want her unharmed.”
My head spins. What could the dryads possibly want with Lavendera?
They already have tree magic. And tree magic which is no doubt much stronger than Lavendera’s.
They also hate the Icehearts, and she is stubbornly loyal to them.
So why do they want her? She does whatever the Icehearts want, which has no doubt harmed the dryads in some way.
So do they just want her in order to punish her for that?
But then why stop me from killing her up there?
“I can read the questions in your eyes, young fae,” the Dryad Queen says. “But I will not answer them. All you need to know right now is that we want Lavendera brought to us. It is our most desired wish, and one we are willing to strike a bargain for. So tell me, what is it that you would want?”
“We want what we came here for last time,” I reply, holding her gaze. “An alliance. We want you to help us take down the Icehearts.”
She throws her head back.
The abrupt move startles me enough that I jerk back a little, but she only spreads her arms wide while keeping her head thrown back like that.
Her hair streams out both to the sides and behind her, and her dress seems to almost grow down into the ground.
The sight of it all is shockingly terrifying.
A hissing, rippling sound fills the woods for a second.
My heart slams against my ribs, and fear trails an icy finger down my spine.
Then it stops just as abruptly as it began.
The Dryad Queen tilts her head back down, and her hair returns to flow more normally down her back.
She locks those ancient eyes of hers on me, and I am once more reminded that this being isn’t mortal.
This being isn’t a normal person who lives and dies while the world continues moving.
This being is part of the fabric of the world.
“We accept,” she declares. “If you bring us Lavendera, the dryads will go to war. For you. For us.” Her eyes sharpen like lethal blades. “And for revenge.”
My heart pounds at the unforgiving fury in her voice.
I truly wonder what the Icehearts did to the dryads all those millennia ago.
It seems like a reckoning is coming. An unholy alliance between the Seelie Court, the Unseelie Court, the dragon clans, and the dryads. All of it coming for the Icehearts. Like a boulder rolling down a mountain, picking up speed.
First though, we need to get Lavendera. Not just for the dryads. For the dragon shifters too. Somehow, this strange and certifiably insane fae who stares at walls with blank eyes half of the time is the key to the entire war. She is also utterly loyal to the Icehearts.
So the question is, how in Mabona’s name are we supposed to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?