Chapter 36 Paeonia
?PAEONIA
She dressed in silence, the morning light gilded across Paeonia’s hair. She grabbed her locket and felt a sense of loss when she remembered Rowan had taken the key from her and never returned it.
When she made it to the dining room, she was surprised to find Rowan leaning against the wall just before the door.
Her eyes instinctively flickered down to his trousers, right below his belt, and she immediately recognized her mistake.
Her cheeks went aflame as Rowan grinned at her.
She wanted to vanish from sheer embarrassment.
Rowan, however, seemed to do her a kindness by deciding not to taunt her, his conversation quickly skirting by her appraisal.
“We’ll have to wait until nightfall before I can go after the Eldritch.”
“Because you’ll be in your beast form?”
His face fell. “Wyld glamour.”
She cringed, apologizing. “I’m sorry. I am so used to referring to it as that…”
His eyes softened as he entered the dining room, beckoning her to join him.
“Fae can often change their appearance out of their own sheer will. And then some of us, a small few, aren’t able to control our glamouring abilities.
” He took his usual seat but did not move to touch the breakfast spread on the table.
“So, other fae can just turn into…” She felt rude now calling him a beast.
“Into monsters. Yes. Grim Fae, at least. But I cannot control my shifting. It’s rare to have such a primitive form of glamour. It’s why my instincts tend to go haywire when I shift into my beast form—as you like to call it.”
Her face warmed, and she distracted her hands by grabbing some fresh fruit to pile on her plate. “That’s rather wondrous, the whole glamouring. I had heard about it in fairy tales—always the fae painting themselves more beautiful.”
He grunted. “Yes, that’s how the Gleam Fae use their abilities. Grim Fae on the other hand… We tend to channel more of our dark side.”
“It’s still intriguing. Alluring.”
“It’s rather frowned upon to have wyld glamour. It’s more primitive, more feral, more uncivilized. It’s an antiquated magic… A defect in a sense.”
He didn’t speak with anger or with the intention to have Paeonia take pity on him. He seemed almost humiliated. She didn’t see how that could be seen as a defect. He could still glamour. Still changed into something far more powerful than his regular fae form.
“I think it’s beautiful.”
He scoffed. “You call it my beast form.”
“Well,” she began uncomfortably, “beast isn’t synonymous with ugly. You change into something terrifying and deadly. And yet, absolutely ethereal and beguiling.” She cleared her throat. “And this form is going to be how you stop the Eldritch. I see nothing wrong with your glamour.”
He paused, glancing at her, then reached for fresh bread to put on his plate.
“I…” she began, her face instantly heating to the point of overstimulation.
Rowan ripped a bite from the bread, narrowing his eyes. “You wish to ask me something about last night?”
She almost choked on her spit, her hands wringing in her lap. She nodded.
“Out with it then.” He grabbed a dollop of honey and spread it on his next bite.
“I’ve never… Until you, I had never seen nor touched a man—”
“Male.”
She looked at him confused.
“I am no man.”
Right, she thought. “I had never seen or touched a male, human or otherwise, that intimately. So I don’t really have much to go on.” Her voice wavered, her words uncertain. He grinned at her bashfulness. “And…was that normal? For you to, uh, swell?”
He chuckled softly, his eyes growing darker. “No.”
She waited for him to expand, but he remained quiet—and she imagined he did so purposefully. “Please don’t make me ask,” she pleaded, the words stuck in her throat.
He set his bread down. “It’s called a knot.”
She hesitantly made eye contact, listening with rapt interest.
“I only have it when I’m in my wyld glamour. It’s primordial. A bit barbaric, some might say. A thrilling companion to my glamour.”
“What is its purpose?”
He sat back in his chair, his hand moving under the table.
“When a male finishes, he’ll rut so deep inside his female that his knot slips inside her, swelling to the point of a steadfast lock.
So neither party can move. She can’t tug him off of her without hurting herself.
Keeps his seed locked inside so it can take hold.
The swelling goes down after a few minutes. ”
Her lips had parted and she gawked at him. She closed her mouth audibly, trying to bring moisture back to her dry tongue. He spoke so casually, so openly, that it flustered her. “Oh.”
“Worried?”
“No,” she lied.
He gave a faint, mirthless laugh. “I don’t fuck in my wyld glamour. Too apt to lose control.”
She sighed in mild relief.
“But,” he added, calling her attention back, “I do plan on claiming you in my wyld glamour, Pae.”
Her jaw went slack.
“I plan to knot you, just as mates have always done throughout the centuries.”
They fell silent, her face widened in shock and terror. She tried to busy herself, filling her plate with even more fruit.
After several minutes of silence, Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but he hesitated, almost like he hated what he was about to say. She focused on him until he finally said what he needed to. “I’m going to need your help in order to kill him.”
She nodded, popping a strawberry into her mouth. “Of course.”
He sucked in a breath. “You don’t understand. I’m going to need you to be taken by the Eldritch again, Pae.”
Terror crossed her features as she stopped chewing.
He couldn’t possibly mean she had to be stolen into the woods again, hung up and tied by the Gloamcaps.
To face the Eldritch again. The thought sent a shiver up her spine.
The memory of the foul creature boring into her eyes, the way she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.
The absolute fear that made her blood run hot came rushing back to her.
“W-why?” Her voice had slipped away to a mere whisper.
“That’s the only way I’ll be able to find where he is.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would he even want to take me again?”
“You’re part Gleam Fae. They want you to use your affinity to help spread the wild wood.”
“But I don’t even know how to control it!” she said, panicking.
“I know that. But he doesn’t.”
“Is that why you said he stole me with incentive? Why you said they’d have come back for me, now that they knew where I was?”
He leaned back in his chair.
“How long did you suspect I was part fae?” Her words were almost spiteful. They came out in cracked breaks, hurt coating her throat.
“I knew when I first found you in my gardens. The way the flowers moved for you. The branches parting as you edged away from me. And I could feel it—your magic tangling with mine.”
She didn’t know if she should be upset at him or not, but it didn’t matter, because her chest ached regardless. “My magic…played with yours?”
He traced her face, then gazed off in the distance. Her skin warmed. “Fae can usually feel other fae’s magic. And I felt yours. Felt the light blinding my darkness. It almost hurts to stand so close to you.”
She remembered those first few instances where he touched her—when he sealed the bargain—and how he had looked hurt when he pulled away. Uncomfortable in his skin. It was her. He was pained—disgusted even—by her affinity. The light she emitted.
“Did Gleam and Grim Fae ever mate?”
He sighed. “No. Not officially. We’re two sides of the same coin, but destined to repel.”
She ruminated with that for a long minute. “Or,” she said quietly, “perhaps we bring balance to one another.”
He remained silent.
She ate another sliver of fruit. “Why did you keep this from me?”
He sat forward, leaning against the table. “Don’t be so foolish. I had no reason to tell you. We didn’t exactly like one another. Should we have stayed up and gossiped all night long?”
She chewed on her lip. Perhaps this didn’t upset her as much as it should. But he was right. He didn’t owe it to her. They weren’t friends.
“Out with it. Whatever it is you’re thinking that’s making your nose scrunch up like that.”
“And now… Do you like me now?”
He let out a breath through his nose like he thought her petulant. “We’re mates,” he said flatly, like that was answer enough.
“Yes, but do you like me?” She had wanted to speak with an air of confidence, like his answer couldn’t hurt her, but her words were weak.
He tilted his head at her. “What do you want me to say, Pae?”
She shied away from him, her face hot. “Tell me what I do once the Eldritch takes me.”
“Pae,” he breathed.
“Don’t call me that,” she said in a broken lilt. “Please.”
His chair scraped along the floorboards, and his footsteps rounded the table.
He roughly grabbed her chin, making her gasp, forcing her to look at him.
His lips parted, and she stared helplessly at him.
His jaw ticked like he was about to speak, but then he relaxed again, the anger still plain on his features. “I am not good at this.”
“Good at what?” she muttered.
He released her chin, and she knew he was struggling to be forthright. She almost laughed. He raised a brow at her abrupt shift.
“It’s just,” she began, a playful tone coating her words, “you always chide me for not speaking my mind, and you can barely be honest about caring for me.”
His eyes narrowed. But then he chuckled faintly. “I suppose you’re right.” He leaned against the table. Though he never answered her question. “You will tend to the garden tonight, after the sun sets. Linger by the gates, and the flora will summon you like last time.”
She steadied her breathing. “I can’t even remember last time.” She tried to think but only small flashes came to mind. Moments of the flora beckoning her. She mainly remembered the pull, the way she was called into the woods. She hated that she lacked any control. Now, she had to do it again.