Chapter 10
AVELINE
The very second his grip goes from casual to possessive I know something's wrong.
My heart, which had momentarily been stilled by Malakai's disgustingly well-timed appearance saving me from the clutches of the creatures that will no doubt haunt my worst nightmares, I've been slowly regaining control of myself.
And yet, the minute his fingers dig into my chilled, goosebumped skin, I know something has gone wrong again.
"Are they back?" I whisper, terror making the tips of my fingers cold.
"What are you doing here?" Malakai says, his gaze fixed on a point in front of us.
Part of me doesn't want to look, wants to sink into him and let him deal with whatever new terror has arrived because of my stupid decision to run into the woods away from the safety of a castle.
Instead, though, I summon whatever bravery I have left, and I force myself to turn and look at whatever new trouble has inserted itself into my life.
Starting to think I have a knack for it.
"What do you think I'm doing here?" the man standing in front of us answers.
He's beautiful in a way that no man I've ever seen is—broad-shouldered, strong-jawed, perfectly symmetrical features, a dust of gold coating his skin.
Probably some trick of the light, I think to myself, until I notice the long pointed tips of his ears peeking out from the most beautiful flaxen hair I've ever seen.
My fingers itch with the need to braid it.
"If you'd wanted to help, you would have shown up much sooner," Malakai says.
"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" I ask him, all too aware of the fact that I'm covered in dirt, shivering, my leg is hurting and no doubt bleeding from where one of the rose brambles sliced my ankle open, and doing my very best to hold on to whatever dignity I have left.
"You need no introduction, Aveline, Duchess of Stormspire," the beautiful man says, bowing. Half of his mouth is turned up in amusement, but the smile doesn't make me feel better. He's too beautiful, too perfect, unsettling in his own strange way.
"If you think for a moment," Malakai begins, "that I will allow you to take my betrothed from me, you must think again, Seelie." Malakai spits the words out, and I stiffen with alarm as I realize just how much danger we find ourselves in again.
"Malakai, I know that you don't remember much about your last time here on Earth, but I went rogue from the Seelie Court centuries ago.
While I may be Seelie in my blood and bones, my mind is my own.
I'm here to lead you back to a path of safety," he vows, the smug grin he wore now melting off his face.
"The Seelie have never been better than their underground counterparts," Malakai all but growls, clutching me close to his heaving chest. He's essentially a slab of muscle, and I do everything in my power to completely ignore that fact and focus on the beautiful Fae in front of us.
"I never said that they weren't," the man says, turning his attention away from Malakai to me. "My name is Hash. And you have nothing to fear from me, Duchess. Neither you nor your husband," he says, never once turning his attention back to Malakai.
I swallow hard, trying my best to slow the thumping of my heart, to quell the bitter tang of fear that coats my tongue.
"Hash Beauchamp, at your service today and every day," he continues. "I'm delighted to finally make the witch queen's acquaintance."
"He's not my husband yet," I interrupt, needing to somehow regain the upper hand, needing to regain my sovereignty in this strange moment.
Malakai's shadows wrap around my ankles, my sodden slippers, beginning to shield me from view, even to myself.
"Stop that," I tell him, like I would admonish a naughty cat. "It's unsettling."
"So you do agree we will be wed?" Malakai presses.
I let out the heaviest sigh I think I've ever sighed in my life, and I look at Hash beseechingly. "Do you promise on your name as Hash Beauchamp to lead us to safety and back—"
"Do not enter a bargain with a Fae," Malakai interrupts.
"I will do as I wish," I cut him off.
"I may be Seelie, but I am no Seelie with power. Those who follow the king are few and far between now," Hash says, his gaze trained back on Malakai, whose arms are like cords of steel where they press me to him.
It's too much. I wriggle, pushing against him, and he gives me a confounded look before he finally lets me down onto my own feet—a mistake, because I almost crumple where I stand, my ankles and feet half asleep from the strange way he'd been carrying me.
"I cannot take you back to Shadow Keep yet.
Malakai is Lord of the Elder Forest," he says, and there's a slight tone of mocking there that I don't think I would have picked up on had it not been for my years spent in court.
But it's there nonetheless, and it makes my skin prickle all over with fresh unease.
Malakai sniffs. "It's good to know that Shadow Keep's wards have kept all of these years."
"Well, yes, of course they have," Hash says. "But you see, the problem is, Malakai, the Lady Aveline needs some perspective. If she trusted you so fully, you would not have run into the Seelie hunters this evening."
I sputter indignant. "What I do with my life is of no concern of yours, nor of the Seelie," I say, just stopping short of stamping my foot in indignation.
But I cannot help the fact that I am completely furious.
I am so tired of everyone just assuming that I will go along with whatever strange plan they see fit to make me part of without telling me any of it.
"And that is exactly why you must come to the Wild Oak Woods with me," Hash says cheerily. "I'm so glad you agree."
And with that, he snaps his fingers, and that same bilious yellow light fills the air all around us, but this time with sparkling moats of gold, as though gold dust has been thrown in front of my eyes.
And the next thing I know, we're in front of a rustic but beautiful house, a hand-painted sign swinging over a beautiful wrap-around porch that says The Wild Oak Woods Inn.
Just as I was beginning to worry, a purple-skinned male steps off the wrap-around patio, beaming at Hash and then me and then Malakai, though I noticed his expression gutter slightly at the scowl on Malakai's face.
A huge golden-furred dog bounds forward, barking with excitement, and some of my anxiety is appeased immediately at the familiar sight of a too-large dog thinking it's small enough for the kind of greeting it gives Hash.
Well, if the dog likes him, he can't be all bad.
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," I tell him, then pause, realizing where I've seen him before. He was at the festival just earlier today—it feels like a hundred years have passed since then.
"You must be exhausted," the Fae says. "I'm Caelan."
"And I'm Wren," a woman says, coming up from behind me.
I turn, slightly terrified at who I'm about to find behind me, but Malakai has blocked all access.
"Wren Tiersen," the woman says, sticking her hand out.
"Duchess, I'm so sorry that I didn't have a chance to properly introduce myself earlier today, and I'm so sorry at, ah...
" She pauses, looking at both Hash and Malakai with a strange expression.
"Well, let's just say that this is not how I thought today would be going. "
"Well, that makes two of us," I tell her, moving around Malakai, and she gives me a bright smile that quickly fades.
"You look like you're freezing," she tells me. "These men are going to continue to posture."
"I am no man," Malakai interrupts.
Wren rolls her eyes. "Exactly what I was trying to say, demonstrated perfectly," she tells me in a low voice. "I'm going to get our Duchess of Stormspire a hot bath, some food, and a bed. This is too much for anyone, but especially someone like the duchess."
I want to tell her that I am not some delicate piece of stained glass, but from the look on her face, I think that she knows that and is simply trying to make an excuse to get us alone, which should make me worried.
And maybe if she were Hash or the purple-skinned Fae out on the patio it would, but there's something about this woman that makes me want to trust her right away.
"You've had a real shitty day," she says cheerily, as if a shadow god or Eldritch being or whatever the hell it is that Malakai is is some sort of normal occurrence here in the Wild Oak Woods.
"It's been different," I tell her, trying to make my voice sound cheery and utterly failing.
"I'll be all right though," I tell her, raising my chin. "I always am.” For some reason, my voice breaks as I make that announcement. My lower lip trembles, and Wren gives me a long, appraising look.
"Right." he turns. "Piper!" she yells as she guides me to the inn's front doors.
The front doors open into a cozy parlor where a cedarwood fire crackles merrily in a stone hearth.
It's beautiful, much nicer than anything I expected in the Wild Oak Woods would be, which goes to show how little I've been out of the Stormspire.
And I immediately feel rude for having even thought that.
The room envelopes me instantly, thick with the scent of cinnamon and cloves. I take a deep breath, and am somehow reminded of an old cook who used to let me read in her kitchen and feed me sweets.
“Hang in there.” Wren sighs, patting my hand, pulling me back to the present.
"Oh no, I'm fine," I tell her, trying to fight back the tears through sheer stubbornness.
"It's okay if you're not fine," Wren says, though she looks increasingly alarmed as tears begin to spill out of my eyes. "Piper!" she yells again. "How's dinner coming?"
A pretty brunette woman flies out of an arched opening, her hands carrying an overloaded tray chock-full of some of the most delicious foods I've ever seen.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I hate crying. I don't know why I'm crying."
"Well, I think we know why you're crying." Wren smiles.