Chapter Seven #2
I growled at Foalan when he dared to twitch.
“I’ll shove this sword so far through your heart, it’ll come out your ass!
” Little arms threw around my waist, hugging me in a death grip.
“You’re not hurting this child, Alisdair.
You think it’s some kind of problem if other orphans find out I helped him, and come with their hands out?
“I say nothing would make me happier, not even if Meya parted the clouds and struck you down dead. Me and all the forgotten children of Lumenfell will toast your death with the golden goblets collecting dust in your front hall, while wearing the diamonds, necklaces, and crowns rusting in the hall above that one!”
“Diamonds don’t rust!”
“Argh!” Swinging my arms up, I lobbed the sword across the dais—flinging it directly at his head.
“Tiresome woman!” Magic stopped the tip an inch from his nose, and sent it soaring away.
Bradach cawed, jumping out of the way. The sword stuck in the wall, pinning his feather to the stone.
“Fine!” Alisdair broke the chair arm slamming his fist. It was made of pure bronze. “Since you’re so attached to the thieving little beggar, he shall receive your sentence.
“Aeris, send him to the slave marts!”
I backed away, keeping both Foalan and Aeris in my sights. The boy stumbled back with me. “That is not what I said.”
Alisdair’s grin was nasty. “You said he should be treated like the bird faeriken.”
“Oh my Meya, you enslaved them?” I rasped. “You— You— Monster!”
“Aeris, you were given an order.”
I held him tighter. “If you dare try to sell him, I’ll buy him myself. Then I’ll set him free with a sack full of your riches, and your worthless severed head!”
A loud, dangerous snarl ripped from his throat—tumbling out with his lengthening fangs.
My grin was even nastier. “Those don’t scare me, husband, they’ll be between my legs soon enough.”
Alisdair threw up his hands, making me lurch back. Something flew through the palace entrance and slammed into his palm. He threw it at Jotham. “Very well, the blessed queen of Lumenfell has spoken. We have bought your problem off your hands, and he now lives and works here—or he dies.”
Jotham fumbled catching one of the very golden goblets I spoke of.
“Aeris, take him to the kitchens.”
“Wait—”
Alisdair snapped his fingers and both Aeris and the boy were gone.
We glared each other down for a long, tense silence.
“I will find him,” I hissed. “I’ll set him free.”
“A hollow threat. You can’t even free yourself.”
Deep, seething, corrosive hatred burned my soul to cinders. I ached to get away from him, or grab another sword and keep throwing until I hit something that hurt.
Lifting my chin, I climbed the dais and gingerly reclaimed my throne.
“Uh, my lord?” Jotham held up the goblet. “I don’t know what to do with—”
“Get out,” Shadowsoul roared, the beast ripping through his handsome visage in an instant.
Jotham stumbled over his feet running away.
In a way I could claim victory. I finally tore his calm, cool mask to shreds. We both flung back in our seats, throwing glowers and bared teeth across the divide.
Jotham blew out the door, nearly colliding with a newcomer. He sidestepped the fleeing man and entered the room, blowing through my rage.
“Seems I missed something interesting.” He smiled at me. “Hopefully not so interesting it’s put you in a bad mood, Queen Ana. I’ve come to request your favor.”
“Brother.” Foalan advanced on him. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
Meallan pulled a face. “Brother? Who are—? Oh, Meya. Foalan, is that you? I didn’t recognize you without the leash.”
Growls erupted from Foalan, which set the naked Meallan off too. They appeared on the edge of ripping each other’s limbs off.
Definitely not close siblings.
“You don’t belong here, Meallan. Leave!”
“No, you don’t belong here!” Meallan jabbed his chest. “You’re a wolf. One of us! Yet you run around here playing lapdog to a king, when you should be king. You should be alpha!”
Foalan’s eyes flashed. “We are not wolves, Meallan. We’re men!”
“We are gods,” he growled. “Stronger, faster, better than man and wolf. We are—”
Alisdair flicked his finger. That was it. A single flick, and Meallan and Foalan blew apart, crashing into opposite walls.
“T-too right, my lord.” Foalan staggered to his feet, his forehead openly bleeding. “Thank you for punishing us for our disrespect.”
The only response from the pile that was Meallan was angry growls, snaps, and roars.
I winced looking at him. He was unfortunate enough to fall ass over his head. His cock and balls flapped around like two rotund people straining to stick a pole on top of an ass crack.
“You test my already strained patience.” Alisdair struck a glare through me to belie the words. “You will tell me why you’re breaking the truce by crossing territories, or I’ll move straight to killing you for it.”
Meallan righted himself, mouth practically foaming with rage. He was nothing like the odd, smirking, calm stranger I met in the winter woods.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he barked, blowing my brows high.
With what kind of confidence, strength, or secret magic weapon did he speak to Alisdair that way? And where did I get it too?
“I am not here for you, toy king. I’m here for her.”
I looked from Meallan, my surroundings, then back to him. The fact remained he was looking at me. “Excuse me? Here for me?”
“That’s right, Queen Emiana, ruler of nothing and owned by no one.” His brows smoothed out as his grin returned. “Surely you remember me? Why, wasn’t it just the other night we had a delightful, naked interlude in the woods?”
A low, hair-raising, blood-chilling sound filled the room, tightening my grip on the chair arms. I’d heard Alisdair growl many times, but this was worse. Much, much... worse.
“Watch yourself.” Bradach stepped forward. His grin was nowhere to be seen.
I blinked at him. I’d never seen such a murderous expression on his face before. Its closest match was Foalan’s as they both converged on Meallan.
“Disrespect my queen again, and I’ll introduce Foalan to his new sister.” A blade appeared in Bradach’s hand. He swiped his tongue across the tip, driving his point brutally home. “Go on. I dare you.”
“Absolutely not, Bradach,” Foalan said smoothly. “If anyone is going to turn this cur into a pup”—two swords were in his hands in a blink—“it’ll be me.”
Meallan laughed, further shocking me with his confidence. I didn’t say how I knew, but Bradach and Foalan weren’t joking.
“Settle down, pets. As I said, this is between me and Lady Ana.” His gaze trapped mine over their shoulders. “You swore if we met again, you’d honor your debt and gift me a favor. That night has come.”
Alisdair half rose from his seat. “Favor?”
“Correct.” He shoved past Bradach and Foalan. “Your queen broke the truce and entered our territory. Not only did I spare you the death I was owed by rights, but I offered her shelter, and then aided her on her way when it was denied.”
“What? That’s nonsense. Lies,” he barked. “You wouldn’t do any one of those things. You’d skin your own mother and wear her for a coat if the breeze shifted. Not for a moment would I believe you spared and offered her sanctuary.” Alisdair laughed nastily. “Get out, or I’ll castrate you my—”
“But it’s true.”
All eyes flew to me. Alisdair’s, Bradach’s, Foalan’s, and the watching villagers. Shock twisted their faces.
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, skin prickling.
“He did offer to shelter me among his people the night I tried to outrun you and the runes. I said no, so he taught me how to mask my scent.” The conversation came back to me.
“I also said that I would help him like he helped me if I ran into him again, but, no offense, Meallan, I was hoping we would not see each other again.” I turned a burning sneer on Alisdair. “Because it meant I didn’t escape him.”
“My deepest apologies, Lady Ana. Believe it or not, even though I’m here today, I did ask Meya to bless your feet, and curse his.”
A large, dark figure was suddenly between us, overwhelming my nose with pine, rain, and nutty shaela bread drizzled with orange jam.
Yes, I thought, inhaling deep before I knew what I was doing. That’s Alisdair’s scent. Empty, deceptive, a lie.
“You come here today for your death. She was not my mate when she entered your territory, or when she granted you favor.”
Meallan tsked. “Come now. You know as well as I those distinctions only would’ve mattered if she succeeded in escaping the mating bond. Now you are one. Your soul, your power, your promises are bound by magics we cannot comprehend... or defy.
“I will ask my favor, and it will be granted, or by rights I will claim the life I spared.”
The sentence penetrated, clenching my jaw tight. Did Meallan just say he’d kill me if he didn’t get what he wanted?
“There’s no need for this. Enough with the shouting and threats.” I pushed up and stepped out from behind Alisdair. “I swear, I’ve been in rowdy taverns filled with pissing, puking drunks that behave with more decorum.
“What is your favor, Meallan? Ask it already.”
He bowed low. “Of course, Lady Ana. It is a simple request. One that in time we’ll find is best for our people. Will you—?”
“No,” Alisdair sliced in. “Now get out.”
I shoved around him. “Will I what?”
“Will you dissolve the invisible border and allow the wolf faeriken to rejoin Lumenfell, its people, and your rule?”
Foalan dropped his swords. I thought I knew what shock looked like on his face. That expression blew it out of the water. “Dissolve the— You jest,” he cried. “This is a trick!”
“It is no trick, it’s sire’s wish,” Meallan replied to him, but looked at me. “Too long we’ve been separated, and we’re both suffering for it. The successful union of your king and one of the stunted’s princesses showed us we were wrong.”
Stunted? They call normal faeriken stunted!?
“We can exist as one people,” Meallan continued. “No matter which animal calls to us. So, what say you, my queen?”