Chapter Eight
The next morning, Aeris led me out to the courtyard. Court wasn’t being held that day while they did repairs.
Alisdair stood in the middle of the courtyard, basking under the shadow of a statue.
I only saw its silhouette the night before.
Morning didn’t bring the sun, but it did bring the lighting of a dozen orblights scattered along the twisting paths—all casting their glow upon a beautiful stone woman with long hair, bare feet, and an expression of everlasting mourning.
I fell in beside him. “The true reward was a night free of you.”
Alisdair flicked down to me, amusement tugging the corner of his mouth. “How many hours last night did you spend crafting that rejoinder?”
I warmed under my collar. “Shut up.”
Naturally, he laughed at me. Alisdair was particularly handsome that morning, and that was saying something.
It wasn’t that his horns were diminished, because they weren’t.
Or that his claws retracted, because they hadn’t.
He was very much the beast bursting out of a summer fae’s skin.
No, he looked handsomer that morning, because he looked free.
Gone was the heavy black cloak. In its place were simple breeches, boots, and a tunic opened at the chest in defiance of the cold.
His hair hung loose and free—a rushing raven waterfall drawing my gaze to him again and again.
Every time I saw him, his face was a mask of boredom, rage, or irritation.
But not this time. Alisdair looked like he had decided the day was going to be a great one, and it had barely started.
“What has you in a good mood?” I snapped.
“Likely whatever has you in a bad one.”
I flashed him an obscene gesture, which only made him chuckle.
“The disappearing island that we spoke about. We found it,” Alisdair said, again surprising me with a straightforward answer. “Our men were able to retrieve something that’s going to make all the difference in the coming war. It’s on its way now. Our victory is absolute.”
I clenched my jaw hard. He was right. This news had the opposite effect on my mood. “Stop saying we and our. What you do, you do for yourself and your revenge. No one wants war. No one ever wants war.”
“What we want are things only war will achieve. It is the same thing, little bird. If Elvans truly desired a simple, peaceful life, they’d return to the trees.”
I scoffed. “Just because you say it in a slow, calm voice doesn’t make it wisdom.”
His laugh was light and free. Oh, yes, he was very pleased with the destruction he was about to cause. “Do you not want the laws in Lyrica to change, and for women to be allowed to keep their magic?”
“Of course I want that.”
Alisdair looked me in the eye. “Then, how do you intend to wrest power away from the cruel, uncaring hands of your fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers, if not through war?”
I met his gaze unflinchingly. “The same way I’ll wrest it from you, but don’t worry, husband. That’s the gift of mothers, daughters, wives, and sisters. We don’t need war to bring a man to his knees.”
“Is that so?”
The grins reflected in each other’s eyes were absolutely feral.
I blinked and Alisdair was behind me. A warm hand snaked around my waist, pulling me close—drawing me into his heat—and every muscle in my body went rigid... because of what was in his other hand.
“Do demonstrate that for me, Princess.” He pressed the tip of my stolen dagger to my heart.
“Bring me to my knees. Make me surrender.” Alisdair licked the shell of my ear, then bit down, making me moan.
A moan I’d swear on my life was no more than a gasp.
“Keep in mind that my strike will hit true if you succeed. Or if you fail,” he mused.
“I haven’t decided which I desire more.”
I grasped his wrist and pushed it away. He let me.
“The true fun is in not knowing when it’s coming, husband dear.
Although, I can promise you that the day is coming soon when I make you the fool.
You’ll be the one watching everything and everyone you love ripped away, and all your plans for the future crumble to dust. On that day, you’ll wish you hadn’t underestimated the power of a quick and clever little bird. ”
“You misunderstand me greatly, my queen.” Alisdair’s nose traced a design on my cheek, sending my head spinning. I couldn’t breathe without drowning in his spicy, sweet scent. I couldn’t move captured in his hold. “It is not you I underestimate.”
Alisdair waved his hand and a tiny, cheeping golden bird appeared on his palm. Sunlight glinted through feathers so lovely I could weep.
“But the question is this: how grand and mighty can any creature be—” Golden rods burst out of his palm and clamped around the bird—weaving, locking, and interlocking as it screeched. “—when its weakness is a small cage.”
I tore away from him, a million heated replies launching to my lips, but nothing coming out.
“Your obedience is taken, but your fire is surrendered.”
Mama’s words echoed in my head, along with my usual replies. They were eerily similar to Alisdair’s. What did fire matter if someone can put you in a cage?
I forced myself to turn back to the statue. Anything other than falling deeper into his glittering, dark orbs. “So what imaginary thing have the soldiers in your dreams retrieved from the island of make-believe?”
Chuckle. “I will tell you when I’m in a mood as poor as yours, so that you cannot bring me lower.”
He received another foul gesture for that. “Is this her?” I asked, studying the woman’s stone face. “Raelina?”
“No.”
I waited for more, but none came. Alisdair’s candor had limits. I didn’t push.
“When do our lessons start?” I asked.
“Why?”
“I need to go out into the village today,” I heard myself say.
“See the people. Meet them. Give them a chance to get to know me. I can hardly fulfill my promise to reign as a true queen if I’m hiding in the bowels of the castle, terrified assassins are around every corner. If you give me a couple hours, I—”
“Cease your blathering, woman, and do what you wish. What interest is it of mine?” He strode off.
“Ass,” I hissed, stomping off the other way.
Aeris stood five feet away, talking in low tones to one of my attendants.
“Aeris, send for my carriage!” Pulling up short, I tossed my head—eyes wide. That wasn’t me. That was how Emiana addressed her household staff. It was not how I addressed a single soul.
The barrier between me and her is already crumbling. I have to get out of here while I can still remember who Olene, Meliora, Jaclan, Gisela, and Savia are.
“Excuse me, Aeris,” I said. “What I meant to say was can you have a message sent to Eadaoin, telling her to wait for me in the grand hall? We’re going out into the village this morning.”
“Right away, my lady.”
Half an hour later, Eadaoin and I left through the palace gates for the village.
There was a palpable change in the air since my last visit.
The clouds were heavier and darker, pressing the orblights to work harder dispelling the doom.
A stiff wind whipped through Lumenfell—slamming doors in the distance, smashing flowerpots, and beating against my overcoat.
All of that chilled me, but none so much as the new inhabitants. Everywhere I looked, there were wolves.
Just like Meallan, they were naked and creeping—moving quietly at the edge of things as if not wanting to take part, but needing everyone to know they were there.
Eadaoin drew closer to me. “My lady, would you happen to have that dagger you took from me last night?”
“Yes, in my pocket.” A direct question deserved a direct answer.
“No,” she hissed under her breath.
I didn’t know why she was whispering until I remembered her saying a shout from the other side of the castle would bring Foalan running.
“Do not put weapons in your pocket. You waste precious time fumbling for them. On your belt always.”
“I don’t have a belt or weapons holster.”
“Then we change that today.”
I nodded. “Eadaoin, why are they so... different?”
She didn’t ask what I meant. “Wolves aren’t like other animals, my lady.
They don’t live in peaceful coexistence with other species.
They dominate whatever area they call their territory, and will go out of their way to hunt down and kill coyotes, bears, cougars—any creature that dares to live on their land and eat their food.
“As their instincts took over, the wolf faeriken became more and more dangerous to the rest of us. They began killing and terrorizing us indiscriminately—for no other reason than they’ve decided Lumenfell belongs to them.”
Oh no. What have I done?
“But that’s not what makes them different.
” Eadaoin nodded to one of the patrolling guards passing by.
“They’re different from us... because they like it,” she rasped.
“They like being wolves. They like being—” The curse made her skip over the word she couldn’t say.
“They like the strength, the power, and the bloodlust. They’ve fully embraced the change by shedding the clothes that separate us from the animals, because they like Lumenfell, Lady Ana, and they believe it should all be theirs, and we should all be dead. ”
I swallowed hard. “No wonder the villagers wanted to kill me.”
She didn’t argue.
“Why didn’t Alisdair tell me this?” I cried. “He spent hours telling me about the outer-lying villages, but couldn’t spare a moment to mention why the wolves had to stay in theirs?”
“I can’t speak why our lord does or doesn’t do anything. But why did you give in to Meallan’s request?”
“There was the little matter of his threatening to kill me if I didn’t.”
“Ahhh.” She nodded, patting my shoulder. “You promised him a favor, didn’t you?”
“Not intentionally. He helped me, and I said I’d help him too if the opportunity arose. It’s just what you say.”