Chapter Seven Yeeran #2
‘Will you be participating?’ she asked Golan, just to distract herself from the heat of her memories.
‘No, it’s not the same without Alder.’ Few fae were monogamous. When you felt like a prisoner, sometimes all you could do was find solace in the arms of another. So Yeeran was surprised, and it must have shown on her face.
‘Pleasure is pleasure, but with him…it’s different.’
‘Like every time is new.’ She looked at Furi.
‘Exactly. So though I can go and enjoy myself, I enjoy my memories of him more.’ Golan wrapped his arms around himself, shrinking his small frame.
Like Rayan, the simple act of missing his lover had shrunk his spirit. ‘Alder will be back soon,’ she said gently.
He looked at her bleakly. ‘But who will he be when he returns?’
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. No one knew Alder’s history, and this quest might yet resurface old memories for him. How that would change him, no one could know. So she decided to move the conversation on.
‘How goes the Free the Light Initiative?’
A true smile spread across Golan’s cheeks. ‘We’re making real change, Furi’s been generous with us. We’re nearly through overhauling all legislation. The Lightless will have the same rights as the faebound soon enough.’
The news was a bright light in the darkness.
And it might have come too late. If I fail with this peace treaty, violence will follow.
It will not be your fault, Pila counselled her. All you can do is guide the currents, but some things are like the tide, predestined to happen whether you want it to or not.
As ever, so wise.
Would you like a strawberry? I can get you one if it will help.
As the spell of her sageness was broken, Yeeran had to stop herself from laughing out loud. ‘That’s wonderful news, Golan. You were born to be a leader, it seems.’
‘No. I was not,’ he said a little sharply. ‘Being born into something suggests that I did not have to work hard at it. And I have, every single day. My tongue is raw from biting down on it. I have learned diplomacy the hard way, and I now understand those who simply refuse to play by the rules.’
Yeeran chuckled. ‘Like Furi. Did you hear how she spoke to Motogo?’
‘I caught a little of it. Remember she is struggling too.’
Yeeran looked at the queen writhing and dancing next to the musicians. ‘Struggling with what?’
‘With a broken heart, like you.’
‘It was her choice to end things.’
‘Was it? Or was she simply grieving too many things to let herself be happy?’
‘You act like I did not fight for her. I did, I told her how I felt. How I still feel.’
‘When? The night her father was imprisoned?’
‘Yes.’
‘And since then?’ He was speaking gently, without judgement, but Yeeran was getting irritated–a feeling that normally only Lettle could rouse.
‘I do not take it upon myself to bare my soul every single day. I told her how I felt, and she didn’t care. I will not beg, I will not plead.’
‘Peace, Yeeran. I did not mean to anger you.’
‘I’m not angry.’
Golan smiled at that, which elicited a sheepish grin from her too.
‘Perhaps you should find yourself a partner this night. Pleasure is pleasure, after all,’ he said.
She looked around the forest. The fae were beautiful, that was undeniable, but no matter who she looked at, her gaze always led her back to Furi.
The queen stood next to Rayan by the fire.
Now the fray had set, her glowing dress had turned opaque and Yeeran could see the darkened skin around her nipples.
She held a chalice in her hand, which both she and Rayan had already sipped from.
As she tipped the cup towards the fire her eyes found Yeeran’s and she thought, just for a second, that there was an invitation there.
But as the water struck the flames, all hope sizzled away as Furi followed a red-haired fae into the cover of the trees.
The rejection felt like a bee sting, sharp and painful at first, then quickly spreading, leaving her skin throbbing and angry.
‘Maybe I will find someone tonight,’ she said to Golan. But when she turned the fae was already leaving. She watched as Motogo and Malak were pulled into the depths of the forest by the arms of the fae.
Yeeran walked quickly in the other direction. Though night had fallen, and the darkness had come, she did not want to stumble across either of them out of uniform.
‘Follow me,’ a fae whispered. Her voice was low and sultry and she smelled of mint tea, warm and refreshing. In the dappled light of the star glider glow, Yeeran recognised her as Cely, one of Furi’s royal guards.
She was beautiful, there was no doubt. Her blonde hair shone against the dark skin of her heart-shaped face. Who better to sate her desires?
If Furi will not have me, I will not swear a vow of chastity.
The fact that Cely led her towards where Furi had gone held no bearing on whether she followed the fae or not. None whatsoever.
But follow she did, removing her shirt as she went.
The shadows grew thick beneath the forest canopy. Branches and leaves tantalised her hot skin as she brushed past.
Yeeran could see a silhouette of people lying on a bed of moss ahead of her. Cely grasped her hand–calloused like Yeeran’s–and pulled her towards the writhing group of bodies.
Lips pressed against her bare shoulder, trailing down her back. Another mouth moved over her breasts and down her navel until it met resistance from her waistband. Yeeran undid the buttons and someone else pulled the trousers down.
I’ve gone from self-inflicted celibacy to revelling in the talents of three fae…maybe four? Well, I might as well enjoy myself.
She reached outwards, her fingers brushing across the jawline of the fae who had removed her trousers. Their mouth trailed down from her chest, the kisses firm and hungry.
Yeeran’s heart began to pound. She buried her hands into the fae’s curls, silky and familiar.
Could it be…?
The other fae who had welcomed her to the group had become preoccupied with each other. Either way there was only one person who held Yeeran’s attention now, and her lips had reached the molten core of her.
Yeeran arched into the fae’s mouth as her teeth grazed her most sensitive part. There was only one person who knew her rhythm, who could match her longing.
She didn’t need the cluster of star gliders to confirm it. This was Furi.
The queen’s fingers slid inside her, below her mouth, and began to curl in and out. Yeeran started to pant, her breath joining the orchestra of pleasure around her as Furi welcomed in the overture.
‘Furi,’ she said hoarsely. The queen stilled for a second, and Yeeran had a sudden fear: What if she didn’t realise it was me?
But then Furi continued, the tempo faster than before. It pulled Yeeran over the brink and she welcomed the torrent of ecstasy. Like a hurricane it swept across her body, leaving her decimated in its wake.
Furi began to move away, but Yeeran was not ready to let this moment go. If this was all the queen would give of her, then she would have it. She would savour it.
‘Lie down,’ Yeeran said hoarsely.
Furi complied, the star gliders illuminating her salacious smile, her lips glazed with Yeeran’s desire.
Yeeran had thought of Furi like this often–laid beneath her, her legs and mouth parted, her gaze wanton.
‘I’m going to take my time with you,’ Yeeran vowed, and to her delight, Furi shivered.
First she rained hungry kisses across her breasts, sucking and teasing them until Furi begged for more. And only then did Yeeran turn her attention downwards.
If Yeeran could feast on one thing for the rest of her days, it would be Furi.
She was sustenance enough.
And when she trembled from release, Yeeran thought there could never be a more beautiful image than Furi laid bare in bliss.
As the aftershocks of her pleasure abated, Furi pushed herself onto her elbows and chuckled. ‘It’s always better than I imagine.’
Yeeran smiled and pulled her into her arms. ‘So you’ve been imagining this?’ she said against her hair.
‘Yes,’ Furi said seriously. She pulled away from Yeeran and took a deep breath. ‘I’ve thought about you a lot actually.’
Yeeran braced herself.
‘We don’t need to talk about it now, let’s just have this moment,’ Yeeran said, pulling Furi close again, but the queen shook her head.
‘No, we have to do this now, I don’t want you to misunderstand what this is.’
Yeeran felt her eyes begin to burn with incoming tears and she looked away. She could not bear to be rejected by Furi once more. Gentle hands touched her cheek, guiding her back to Furi’s gaze.
‘I did not mean it like that,’ Furi said.
‘What did you mean, then?’
Yeeran waited for Furi to say the words that she had longed to hear. But the queen’s silence was answer enough.
‘Furi—’
A bloodcurdling scream cleaved through the night.
And Yeeran knew in her gut that someone somewhere had died.