CHAPTER 2
Aimee
Summer in Annerough is brisk at best, freezing at worst. Walking the cobbled streets of the border town towards The Twinkling Meadow, I pull the ends of my woolen shawl together, cursing myself for not getting something warmer instead.
I should know better after almost five years of living here.
The pastel-painted houses and gilded storefronts of the town’s center resemble the enchanted Fae capital, but we couldn’t be further from it.
That’s why I chose this exact spot on the map to hide away from my family.
As a border town with the Kingdom of Wrahta, Annerough stands at the northernmost point of the Fae lands, borrowing the cold weather of the vampire territory. We still have the four seasons. They are just more frigid-prone than I would like.
I was born in Ibrok, from a wealthy noble Fae family, the Vaureghain’s, and spent all my younger years in Vroni, the quaint town just outside of the capital, where all the well-established families of the court would spend their summers, and where they would send their children to be raised by handmaidens, governesses and fancy tutors.
Vroni was, by all accounts, the playground of the future rich Fae snobs surrounding the Royal Family.
The Fae said it was an idyllic town for the wealthy and privileged, with sweet-scented springs and ripe, careless summers.
A place for the young Fae elite to blossom and grow into the delicate ladies and brave men of tomorrow, a place filled with childish love and promises.
I enjoyed the balmy weather there. The rest, however, was my own fucking hell.
“Imiryion to Aimee… You’re doing that thing again,” Sariah says, bumping my hip while we walk side by side. She’s wearing a sky blue woolen cape, matching the same shade of her dress, and I curse her foresight for dressing according to the weather outside.
“What thing?” I pretend to frown at her, as if I don’t know what she’s talking about. But I do. She always complains I get too lost in my head. Honestly, with a past like mine, who wouldn’t?
“Oh, you know very well what I’m on about, girl. You really need to get out of your head and into some hunk’s bed tonight.”
It’s always the same tune with her. The rambunctious female proclaims that intercourse is the undisputed cure for all ailments, especially mine.
I wish it were that simple. I’d love to find a handsome male to sweep me off my feet, muting all the errant thoughts away once and for all.
Pleasure is just a temporary fix. I enjoy it occasionally to take the edge off. Nothing else.
“For you, Sariah, I will do my best.”
Her bubbly personality is infectious, and that is my main reason for befriending her.
Having someone so carefree and joyful by my side helps a little with keeping the anxiety at bay.
Sometimes, I wish I could confide in her for real, sharing what plagues my conscious and subconscious mind.
The guilt and shame are rooted deep inside my chest, though, and shedding light on my traumatic past feels like a death sentence.
I don’t want her compassion, just her easygoing banter.
A stone-hard shoulder bumps into me out of nowhere, and I recoil just a little too fast.
“Watch where you’re going,” a gruff voice comes from the stranger.
“So sorry, sir!” I say, glimpsing his blood-red eyes and long brown braids falling past his shoulders, before he gets lost in the crowd. A vampire. I shudder before turning back to Sariah, who watches his retreating form with a glint in her eyes.
“Now that was a fine-ass specimen!” Sariah whispers.
“You know I’m not into vamps. They make my skin crawl. They are just ruthless killing machines, devoid of any sentiment or ethical principles. A bloody blight on this realm.” We’ve had this conversation a million times by now, but while I’m weary of the fanged creatures, she finds them thrilling.
In Annerough, it’s a common sight to see vampires walking around. While they might not venture into the heart of our kingdom, the border town welcomes them with open arms, thriving from the trading and pleasure they seek here.
The peace treaty signed between the Fae and the vampires over three hundred years ago ensures there is supposedly no bad blood between our nations. They don’t kill Faes anymore, and in return, we don’t hunt them either.
There are Fae folk willing to be bitten and fed on, for the right price.
Others are willing to mingle in the sheets with these dark creatures.
The humans, on the other hand, are fair game.
That’s why so many of them have fled to Reweroth.
Plenty of humans remain in the Fae lands, getting dragged back to Wrahta and slaughtered by vampires.
“Ruthless or not, they are a fucking sight for sore eyes. And you can’t even begin to imagine what their particular skill sets can do in the bedroom.
The lightning fast speed…the way they can smell your arousal and always know what buttons to push to get you off…
Sweet Reythia, I would kill to have such a striking vampire, like the one that just passed by us, at my beck and call.
” She cranes her neck to search for the cursed creature among the throngs of people. “The wicked fun we could have.”
I frown at the mention of the Goddess of love and lust. “Don’t invoke the fucking Gods when it comes to a meaningless tryst with a vampire, Sariah. Spiteful as they are, they might just grant your wish, only for you to end up dead in a back alley, like a discarded blood bag.”
“Good grief, mom, calm down.” The blonde scrunches up her button nose playfully. “Sometimes you’re such a wet blanket.” She wiggles her index finger in front of my face. “No wonder you’re always wound up so tight.”
“Sariah,” I admonish her, knowing I won’t get through to her this time either. “I just worry, sunshine. I want you to stay safe.”
“I know, Aimee, and I appreciate it. But a bit of a vampiric fling won’t harm anyone. You’ll never know until you try it, just saying,” Sariah says in a dreamy voice.
I drop the argument just as we approach the gilded entrance of The Twinkling Meadow.
Standing proud in the middle of a bustling square, the two-story townhouse is a sight to behold.
The facade is painted a blush pink, with golden windows that seem to stare at you like a sultry lover, and a big wooden double door with intricate carvings.
Above the threshold, the name of the establishment gleams in swirling letters, adorned with miniature depictions of naked, voluptuous women.
We round the corner to the side entrance, a common black-painted wooden door, reserved only for the pleasure hall’s personnel.
Nairn, a bulky, six foot two, fire-wielding, ginger-haired Elemental Fae, stands guard in front of the door, and he greets us with a broad grin.
“Good day, my ladies!” He winks at us while opening the door for us.
“Oh, teddy, you know damn well we’re no ladies!” Sariah says while we pass through the entrance into the bright corridor that leads to the changing rooms at the end. His laugh bounces off the walls, following us as we step into the main changing room.
The square room is painted bright purple, and chaos already reigns inside, as several boisterous girls are undressing, painting their bodies and faces in glitter in front of floor to ceiling vanity mirrors, and chatting.
The sickly sweet fragrance of honeysuckle, vanilla and orange blossoms floats through the air, curling around me like a mother’s hand.
Or at least, that’s how I imagine a mother’s embrace to feel. I wouldn’t know.
“Here, smell this.” A petite, brunette Water Fae pushes her wrist in my nose after spraying it generously from a golden bottle.
The scent is spicy and seductive, with hints of cinnamon, cloves, and amber.
“I bet this will drive the boys wild,” she continues, shaking the bottle a bit. “Want to borrow a few drops?”
“Thanks, Brea, but I’m good in the perfume department.
” I smile as I continue on my way to my prep area.
My alter ego has its own personality, look and scent, and I don’t stray from the script I’ve perfected over time.
I have my very own little recipe for success, and it smells like a midsummer storm—warm, sweet, and just a tad dangerous.
All the other girls have dancing numbers woven around their specific powers.
Brea creates a slight drizzle on stage, swaying her wet body in front of the patrons, even going so far sometimes as to let her summoned water pour down on her like rain.
The Fire Faes dance around open fires that don’t burn them, driving the clients wild.
I love Sariah’s number, and not because I might be biased.
Being a Light Fae means she can summon a kaleidoscope of colors on stage, the refracted light breaking in a million colorful particles that give her an otherworldly glow.
Since I have no power to draw from, I had to find different ways to mesmerize the audience. I’m damn good at it, if the returning crowds are any sign.
Sariah leaves my side to chat with some of the other girls, as I take my place in front of a huge vanity mirror with my show name on it. It’s time to shed Aimee and become Celestia, one of the best exotic performers that Annerough has ever seen.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My cheekbones, neck, and decolletage are dusted in a pearlescent shimmer that catches the light, giving me an ethereal glow that seems like it’s coming from inside of me.
A white leather top, adorned with thousands of tiny diamonds, pushes up my ample breasts, and a minuscule see-through veil skirt only covers my silver glittery thong.
My almond-shaped amber eyes blink from beneath the exaggerated silvery fake lashes I just added, and my rosy full lips pout playfully, creating a whole new persona staring back at me.
When I am Celestia, I can almost believe I am a stunning magical creature, like the other females rushing around me.
I weave my fingers through my chocolate brown waves that reach my waist, perfecting the curls one by one. I am objectively beautiful; I know that. But I can never fully enjoy my beauty, not when I know I share a face with my tormentor.
“Such a waste of a pretty face, weakling,” Aurora’s sickly sweet voice cuts through my memories.
“You’re nothing but a weak, magicless excuse for a Fae.
A disgrace to our family. A disgrace to me.
” Her cruel laugh reverberates through my skull.
“I should have absorbed you in our mother’s womb when I had the chance.
Then I wouldn’t have had to see my perfection tainted by your puny ass every day. ”
I suck in a sharp breath, trying to close back those corrosive thoughts in the mental box where I try to suppress them every single second of my life.
“You’re nothing. Nobody. A stain on the mud you walk upon. Filth. You deserve everything that is coming to you. Oh, and I’ll make sure it comes, bitch!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I need to ground myself. I already feel the beginning of a panic attack rising through my bones, my scalp prickling as I tug harder on my strands, my stomach knotting impossibly tight.
One. Breathe in, breathe out.
I’m in the main changing room of The Twinkling Meadow.
Two. Breathe in, breathe out.
I’m surrounded by people I’ve known for five years now. I’m safe.
Three. Breathe in, breathe out.
She can’t get me here. She doesn’t know where I am. I ensured that when I ran away from home, from that life, on our eighteenth birthday.
Four. Breathe in, brea…
“Aimee, you’re on in five. Get ready, girl!” one of the other performers says from the doorway. I finish exhaling slowly and steel myself against the fucked-up memories.
I put on my impossibly high heels with trembling fingers, and chance one last look in the mirror.
I’m not Aimee, the frail little twin with no magic. I am Celestia, and she’s a badass Goddess that makes men weak in their knees with her undulating body.
“It’s showtime.”