Chapter Eighteen
Good gods, the damned fae has weaseled into my mind like a sickness.
A full day later and my thoughts linger on him still.
Offering a contract has only grown more appealing. But it’s hard to tell if he truly suits my needs, or if this is the urging of my demonic blood wanting to subject someone to my will.
Or take him to my bed.
Or both.
I sigh.
The strange draw between us doesn’t help matters.
In fact, it makes things unnecessarily complicated.
It’s not the hunting instinct, this I know for sure.
I don’t know what it is and that should make me wary.
Instead, I find myself intrigued, wanting to know more about this fae and why, despite not knowing him, I feel like I do.
Leaning back on my elbows, I watch the ships come into the harbor from the safety of a rooftop in the North Docks district.
Such massive creations I’ve rarely seen, let alone seen without the filter of the veil.
Several sit anchored along the line of piers, teams of humans and fae working to offload crates and cargo.
They work through the fog and threat of rain overhead, shouting, laughing, some whistling as they go about their tasks. A few sing, lyrics to a rather bawdy sounding song about women waiting in taverns with mountainous breasts and supple asses, their baritone voices ringing out with little care.
The street below streams with people stopping for fresh fish and seafood offered at the spattering of stalls lining the street. And I have to say, I’m not fond of the scent of what Cora has called ‘fruits of the sea’. How mortals eat something with such an off-putting smell is beyond me.
I slipped out of the temple before sunrise, hoping to watch the sunrise in the east, over the city. Had the sky not been darkened with clouds, seeing such a thing would have been magnificent with the looming castle and temple nestled near the city center.
Instead, I’ve spent the last few hours lingering here, watching these mortals. By now Eve is likely looking for me, or on her way here having read the note I left for her on my bed.
I know I’m not supposed to slip out without taking at least Eve with me. But she’s spent so much time with me since my arrival, I worry about it impacting her relationship with Cora. That’s a drama I don’t want or need.
In the corner of my eye, a figure sits down beside me, stretching their legs out, crossing them at the ankle.
“I’d hoped you’d take the morning to spend time with Cora,” I laugh. Glancing left, my laughter dies abruptly and I sit up. “Ryc?”
“Good morning, little witch.” He shoots me a grin from under his black hood as he leans back against the pitch of the roof, tucking his arms under his head.
His hood drapes across most of his face, leaving only the tip of his nose to his jaw exposed.
“I can see why you’d come here. It’s surprisingly tranquil. ”
Why in the nine hells would this fae seek me out?
I scoff a laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t be serious.”
His smile becomes a tight-lipped smirk. “I only jest with friends, you’ll find.”
“We are not friends, Ryc,” I laugh, shaking my head. I’m reminded of the night at The Lioness.
The grin he gives me edges on wicked. “An oversight. One you should seriously consider correcting.”
“An oversight?” My laughter becomes incredulous. Truly this fae has the confidence of an archdemon. Perhaps even Netharis himself. “And if I’ve no interest in correcting said oversight?”
He rolls onto his side, propping his head up with a fist. “Are you telling me there isn’t interest?”
“Oh, there’s interest in many things,” I counter, laughing dryly as I lean back on my hands. “Seeing all of Ollora, reading, rainy days, birds—those things make the list. A fae with the confidence of a demon does not.”
A bold-faced lie.
I’m utterly intrigued by this fae.
All of this between us feels natural, easy, and welcome. I don’t understand it. I should be wary sitting up here with this unknown male, but I’ve never felt more at ease—it has to be some kind of fae magic.
He laughs, his lips quirking with amusement. “I suppose I’ve been accused of worse.”
“Yes, like stalking,” I counter, unable to keep the smile from my face.
Without missing a beat he says, “You drew me here.” My eyes race to his shrouded face, and my heart begins to beat a little faster. “I was out enjoying a morning walk when I happened to overhear some sailors. They’re convinced a siren watches them from the rooftops.”
“A siren?” I ask, my voice flat as I look out over the docks.
“Yes, a beautiful creature with a luring voice that preys upon them.” His impish reply is almost patronizing.
“I know what a siren is.” I shoot a scathing glare in his direction and he chuckles.
“Let me guess, you know a few?” His head tilts to the side.
I’m going to shove this fae off this roof.
“No.” I blink a few times with the strange assumption, my nose wrinkling.
He flashes another smile. “Doing my due diligence as a sworn protector of Erus, I investigated and found you. The siren.”
I can’t help but laugh at his absurdity.
“I’ve sat here silent. It has been them singing all morning.” I throw an arm out toward the docks. “Ridiculously raunchy songs about huge breasts, soft skin, and supple asses.”
Ryc roars with laughter. He wipes at his face with his hand, as if he’s trying to wipe away his grin and failing. “You mean you don’t find it charming?”
“It’s as charming as a headache,” I retort with an arched brow as I watch the sailors below.
“Well, you’ve charmed them, little witch.” He hoists himself upright to sit beside me. “If you’re not careful, you’ll charm the whole of Ollora, including the Sovereign King.”
Oh, I know this game. And for a time in the court of the hells, I was an adept player.
I scoff a laugh, deciding to play along. “If that happens, would I have to see you more often?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Then I shall pass,” I say, trying to smother the smile on my face and failing miserably.
He rests a fist over his heart, mimicking a fatal blow as he slowly falls onto his back. “A siren indeed. Lured to my death after all.” He laughs at the sky.
This banter, this beguiling dance, it feels good. Familiar and known. Laughing, I ask, “Shouldn’t you be with Lilith?”
“Shouldn’t you be attending temple duties?” he counters with a smirk.
I open my mouth to speak and close it again, huffing a sigh through my nose. He’s not wrong. I should be helping Cora in the kitchens.
For a moment, the sounds of the North Docks fill the silence between us. Gulls call overhead, sailors load heavy cargo onto pulley systems hoisting them off ship, and various indiscernible voices bellow on occasion.
Ryc bolts upright, springing to his feet.
He offers me a hand. “Let’s go.”
My eyes narrow. “What?”
“I’m going to show you Ollora,” he says with a broad sanguine grin. “It’s one of your interests, is it not?”
I stammer, “It wasn’t an—”
“We’re both shirking our duties today. Let us enjoy the bit of freedom together,” he interjects as I stare at his hand.
Dragging my eyes to his unnecessarily handsome smile, I purse my lips.
“Eve—”
“Is welcome to join us should she find us.”
I lift my hand to his but hesitate, letting it hover.
“Who’s luring who now?” I ask, staring up at his shadowed face.
Laughing, he snatches my hand and pulls me to my feet with ease. “I’m not the siren, little witch.”
As much as I don’t want him to release me, for my own sanity I’m grateful he does. I should not feel like I’ve known this fae for eternity. Is this how it is with mortals? They’re simply open and easy to get to know? No wonder Netharis has little difficulty when offering them contracts.
This game is different. And whether it’s because of him, or this is how it is in the living realm…
Please gods, do not let me regret this.
“You’ll want to raise your hood,” he says, his tone soft. “You draw eyes with little effort.”
He steps close, reaching, and with tender care, lifts the hood of my cloak. He places it over my head, covering my hair as his fingers straighten the way it sets. Frozen, I watch him through my lashes, swallowing hard as his dizzying scent envelops me.
It all feels incredibly intimate—the kindness of the gesture, the gentleness of his touch. It sets my heart to thundering. And as if he could hear it, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me, his lips twitch, the corners pulling upward into a smirk.
Oh good gods, I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?
?????????????
Regret is the furthest thing from my mind as Ryc and I walk through the Brightmoss district sightseeing. Between having to hide from the Sovereign King and feeling guilty about pulling Eve from her duties or Cora, I haven’t explored much of Ollora despite wanting to.
Being here, with Ryc, is a strangely familiar thing.
I may not understand it, but good gods it’s a breath of fresh air to simply be.
Our reflection in a large shop window catches my eye as we walk past, my eyes on him through the stream of others meandering along the street. With him, there’s this illusion things can be simple.
No gods, no demons, no kings.
This morning has been the kind of morning I could get used to. The kind I’ve daydreamed about, and experiencing it has been nothing short of bliss.
Ryc slows to a stop before the bright blue door on the other side of the window. Turning to me, he gestures toward the door with a tilt of his head.
“Have you eaten?”
I shake my head. “No.”
What a strange question.
“You should eat.” He pulls the door open, and the scents of freshly ground coffee and pastries spill into the street.
Lifting my gaze, the wooden sign hanging overhead features tendrils of white moonflowers curling around beautiful script. Moonlit Mornings the shop sign reads.