8. Evanee
Evanee
It didn’t surprise me that even in a manor of this size with its many rooms, I still shared one with Lyra. Why couldn’t they have made her the cupbearer? Something that didn’t require her to be with me all the damn time.
Her snores echoed in the silence, setting my teeth on edge.
Even my pillow did nothing to muffle the jarring snorts and choking sounds that erupted from her.
A strangled cry tore from me, muffled by my pillow before I threw it aside, giving up on my effort to block the noise and flipped onto my back, sleep far out of reach.
Trickles of moonlight spilled through the room, dancing across the surfaces as Aiden’s words churned in my mind.
The forbidden nature of the subject only fed my curiosity further, while bitterness over the injustice for a species I’d never come across settled over me like a shadow.
Then again, what if I had come across them in the past?
That possibility was haunting. What if my family had been some of the humans who had lived in the Western Realm?
For each hypothetical question that popped up, two more followed.
My face scrunched as I scooped the moonflower from the bedside table and held it up, hardly able to see it in the darkened room.
To have dreamt of this specific flower, I must have seen it somewhere, right?
Micah’s words played back in my head—“When you arrived, I heard whispers about how you were brought here. And it wasn’t a family of rebellion. ”
CRASH.
My skin prickled as I shot up—footsteps thundered past our room.
Cold stone bit into my feet as I slid my foot around for the slippers Thaddeus had lent me, until my toes hit the silky material.
I started for the door, then faltered, fingers dragging down my thin, white slip.
There was a nightdress that had been packed for me, but the material was thick and suffocating, hanging all the way to the ground.
I feared I’d drown in it and opted for this short slip instead.
In hindsight, it had been a poor choice.
If I were to escape, I'd have been better off in the other.
I squinted into the dark—in the farthest corner stood a slim wardrobe.
My steps were soft, slow, until I stumbled over Lyra’s boots, and a string of curses tumbled from me after my steps echoed in an effort to catch myself.
Once I was sure Lyra still slept, I eased to my target.
The door to the wardrobe clicked open, and I grasped at the unknown, feeling around until my fingers brushed something soft and thick.
I yanked; a hanger fell to the floor with a clank—
“Put that tail away, you shameless beast!” Lyra yelled, sitting up in bed, waggling her finger. My body went stone still—until she dropped back, her snores resuming.
A sigh eased out of me as I pulled out a large wool sweater and tugged it over my head, leaving my hair free.
It hung mid-thigh, and I had to roll the sleeves, but otherwise it covered more than the slip had. I went across the room and eased the door open.
Candles lit the empty hallway. Shouts drifted from downstairs. I slipped fully out the door, pulling it shut, then padded down the hall, checking over my shoulder sporadically for anyone else until I reached the banister and peered over.
The guards who traveled with us stirred about, their swords in hand. Thaddeus stood at the front door, peering through a small window set high, still in his fine evening clothes, now with a sword in his grasp.
“I see eight. No—ten. There’s one in the tree,” he called over his shoulder, followed by a dark laugh.
“Since when do they climb trees? Honestly. These evil creatures are bad enough on the ground. Now we have to watch above and below. It’s maddening.
” He clucked his tongue as he talked to no one in particular.
Adrenaline slammed through my veins as muffled screams and shrieks came from outside. The tremble in my fingers as they slid along the banister was only from the chilled night air. It had nothing to do with what I thought Thaddeus was referring to…
Aiden stalked across the entry, armed to the teeth—my steps faltered.
I’d seen males in fighting leathers before, but I’d never actually allowed myself to look.
My goal had always been to deflect attention.
That meant no eye contact. But Aiden… I swallowed past the lump in my throat as I debated whether or not I could retreat to my room, unnoticed.
Thaddeus moved, letting Aiden look outside.
“Hardly a threat,” he scoffed. “You up for some fun?” His attention slid to Thaddeus, then past him, freezing when he noticed me.
Shit.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek as my gaze trailed over the black leather that hugged every inch of muscle as he moved, up to the baldric that sheathed his sword.
To his hard jawline and face—where his smile faltered, a darkness settling in its place.
Thaddeus followed his line of sight straight to me. A grin tugged at his mouth.
“I apologize, my Queen.” He gave a small bow. “We have some unwanted guests around the perimeter. But do not worry! Aiden is very good at what he does,” he said with a wink.
My jaw ticked as I met Aiden’s scowl.
Had he expected me to stay in my room? It wasn’t locked. Besides, I’m a Queen right now, aren’t I? He had to keep up appearances.
I descended the remaining steps, linking my hands behind my back as I approached.
The other guards ignored me as they ran past. Except Malachai, who hesitated at Aiden’s side a moment, looking between us before he too bolted out, sword drawn. Aiden’s eyes didn’t leave me until I was close enough, I had to crane my neck.
“Is there a problem?” I asked, eyebrows raised innocently. His jaw flexed once, his gaze raking over every inch of me—exposing me more than I already was.
“Why, my Queen, I don’t think that sweater has ever looked that good,” Thaddeus commented, amusement threading his voice.
Mortification spread through me like spilled ink, seeping into every inch. I dropped my gaze to my attire, acutely aware of how indecent this was for someone pretending to be a queen. Shit. Should have just worn the stupid chastity tent that had been packed for me.
“You should be in your room. Where it’s safe,” Aiden ground out, his tone sharp.
“I heard shouting. Who’s out there?” I directed my question to Thaddeus, pretending I hadn’t heard Aiden.
Thaddeus’ brows pinched, his lip curling. “A small horde of skurs, my Queen. There’s been an uptick in activity as of late.” My heart thudded in my chest. They’re real. They’re actually real. Blood drained from my face as I strained to catch a glimpse through that small window behind him.
“Are we safe?” I asked, trying—and failing—to ignore the feel of Aiden’s glare.
Thaddeus laughed low and deep. “I assure you, they’ll be dispatched before you make it back to your room.” He showed no concern for the chaos of screams and snarls outside.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Aiden growled, looking once more at my attire disapprovingly, then at me before he turned and stormed out the door.
“What’s wrong with him?” My fists tightened at my side.
Thaddeus only shrugged. “Aiden has a bit of a past he carries with him.”
“That’s not an excuse for his mood swings,” I hurled, folding my arms. But the movement pulled the sweater up further. I dropped my hands, jaw feathering.
“If he says he’ll protect you, then I assure you that every being in the kingdom would die before someone would dare lay a finger on you.”
Yes, I know. He’s already proven that.
“I need to get out there myself!” he said, abruptly ending the conversation.
“You’re going to fight with them?” I didn't bother hiding my shock.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world! I haven’t had a decent fight in over a millennium.”
I gaped at him, dumbfounded, forgetting all decorum. “A millennium? What are you?”
“My Queen, I’m unique.” He winked, then bolted through the door.
What the hell is he? A millennium? Even the Fae had a limit on their lives, albeit a long one. There’s no being I could think of that would have a millennium and not look a day over thirty.
The window was high, so I stretched up on my toes—glimpses of steel flashed under the sliver of moonlight, along with eerily pale beings that darted around at impossible speeds.
Morbid curiosity urged me to go out that door, but I also didn’t want to piss Aiden off more.
Disappointment crept in as I turned for the stairs—the markings of ink around my wrists and ankles tingled.
Then they burned so hot, it’s what I’d imagine Dragon fire to feel like.
I slammed my palm against the wall, a strangled cry ripping free.
“Dammit!”
The sting in my hand was nothing compared to the invisible lava on my limbs.
Curses streamed uncontrollably under my breath as I bolted out the door.
Growls and hissing echoed, but they were far off in the trees. Sickening sounds of bone and flesh being severed slithered through the air, but no clashing of metal. The skurs would have no use for steel when their teeth, claws, and speed were their weapons.
The scorching pain ebbed in my limbs the closer I got to the edge of the porch, but not enough—my mouth clamped shut, forcing myself to swallow the scream that threatened to break free.
An ear-piercing shriek sounded to my left.
My head whipped toward the awful sound—a human figure stood on the outside of the fence…
no, it wasn’t human. Its skin was too pale, nearly glowing.
The way its head flicked in a stiff, methodical manner made the hair on my arms rise.
Long canines flashed as it hissed, that head still twitching in every direction as it sniffed.