CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Paludaris is a dream.
A fantasy written about in books and made up in movies. It’s a civilization of wilderness meets subtle luxury. There are no poor people. No rich people. There is no class. No hierarchy. Everyone lives in comfort and an easy acceptance that only prickles the human part of my brain.
It’s all too ... easy.
Too unreal.
Yet, I pass through the town square and skirt off the cobblestone path.
I wind through alleys and wander through gardens upon gardens, grassy meadows, miles of homes half eaten by wilderness.
There is no electricity. No garbage. The streets are swept, the trees trimmed.
And randomly every so often, there’s a pond or a stream that redirects me to a different area.
It’s all so familiar, but I’m still surprised with every corner I take.
I’m overwhelmed by the weight of my love for this place that Vaelith created.
It makes me wonder what it had looked like before the humans burned it.
Had it been bigger? Smaller? Had there been this many creatures, and how many of them died that day?
I brush the thought away before my anger gets ahold of me. Between remembering why I was forced to leave by a group of faceless assholes and thinking about Vaelith’s pain when his kingdom was destroyed, I’m perpetually teetering on the edge of homicidal rage.
Until I take a turn, following a stream and find myself in a secluded alcove. A tiny corner wedged along the curve of a wall. A heavy canopy of branches brush the top of a gazebo facing a small, dark pond the stream feeds into.
It must be new because I don’t remember this. Not even an inkling like the other places. It’s such a quiet, cozy spot that I immediately fall in love with it.
“There’s our baby.”
The familiar voice echoing through the alcove sends a jolt through me. I jump and spin to face the trio moving towards me with their hoods on and pulled over their faces.
My joy at seeing them is overshadowed by the fact that I can’t see them.
“Why are you wearing those?” I demand, hurrying to my boys.
Labdanum fills my nose, and I peer up into Ciaran’s shadowed face.
“It’s better this way,” he says. “The hoods make others comfortable.”
I think for a second I heard wrong, but the fact that no one is correcting him or elaborating has a hot surge of rage flaring through me.
“Excuse me?” I glance at each of them, waiting, and when none of them speak, I bark a laugh.
“Who’s not comfortable? Did someone say something?
Someone here?” I wave an arm towards the path leading back to the town center.
“I saw a shrub-man with mushrooms growing out of his ass, and they...” I pull in a breath, trying to lower my voice.
“Show me. Who? I’ll beat the fuck out of their mythical asses. ”
I shove past them and start in the direction of the square, fully prepared to start swinging.
“Whoa!” Malakar catches me around the middle and hauls me back. “Easy, sweetheart. We’re not mad about it.”
“Well, I’m mad,” I snap back, twisting out of his hold.
“Who the hell do they think they are? They can’t treat you like that.
You are my boys. Mine. And I’m not letting anyone .
.. take that shit off. Off!” I growl when they continue to stand there.
“I swear to ... I swear, I will disembowel anyone who so much as looks at you with anything other than respect.”
They hesitate but gingerly do as I say and draw the hoods back off their faces.
“I’m sorry I yelled,” I say, willing all my remaining calm to take over. “This is not your fault. People are assholes. But you will not wear that shit, understand? If I’m the queen of this place, that means you have to do what I say and so do they.”
I think.
I’ve never been a queen, but I’ve seen enough movies and TV shows to feel confident in that answer.
“Yes, little one, everyone has to do what you say,” Ciaran pacifies gently. “If you don’t wish for us to wear them, we won’t.”
“I don’t!” I take a deep breath. “Unless you want to. Do you want to? Honestly, do you want to wear those things?”
The trio exchange glances.
“We’ve been wearing them since the beginning. We’re used to them,” Aamon explains softly.
I hate that.
I hate that anyone could ever think this is okay. A place with so many different creatures. Some, who — in my opinion — look weird as fuck, but I didn’t judge. I didn’t make them cover their faces.
“Hey,” Malakar captures my chin and nudges my face up. “You’re going into that dark, scary place. Let it go, sweetheart.”
“I just...”
“We have something that will make you feel better,” Ciaran adds quickly when I have to calm myself down all over again. “But you have to promise you won’t start beating people up on our way back to the castle.”
I purse my lips and cross my arms. “I make no such promise. I see them looking at you sideways and all bets are off.”
“How did we get so lucky?” Malakar murmurs, leaning down and brushing his warm lips over mine.
I don’t respond because I don’t think he’d believe me if I told him that I was the lucky one who didn’t deserve any of them.
Instead, I let them flank me with Ciaran at my back all the way to the town center.
My gaze moves over every face we pass, searching for even one dirty glance.
But no one seems to pay us any mind further than greeting me in passing.
But I believe my boys. They have spent all this time being forced to wear the hoods for a reason and I won’t let that continue.
As long as they’re okay continuing with the hoods, I will accept it, but the second I feel they’re being forced, all bets are off.
I will fight whoever I need to fight to protect them.
It’s only when we’re passing a food cart selling long spikes of roasted meat on flatbread that I realize I haven’t eaten or drank anything.
I suppose it makes sense given I’m dead.
My body no longer needs the nutrition. I wonder if that will change when I get pregnant.
The baby would need food, wouldn’t it? Would the baby be human or .
.. a demiurge? All things I make a mental note to ask Vaelith when I see him.
“Where are we going?” I ask instead, redirecting my annoyance in a safer direction.
“You’ll see,” comes Aamon’s response.
It’s the walk through the woods back in the direction of our bedroom that I make the executive decision that we need to move closer, or I’m going to need a horse. I’m even open to the idea of being carried to and from bed every day but also know that isn’t feasible.
At the bedroom, the boys let me pass through first. None of them say a word as I cross over the threshold and step into a beautiful display of dancing lights strung through every tree.
But it’s the fully decorated Christmas tree that has me hurrying forward.
“We realized you missed Christmas,” Vaelith says, moving out of the shadows and stopping a few feet away.
“It’s already Christmas?” I ask, turning my attention away from the stunning display. “It’s barely been twenty-four hours.”
“Here. In the human world, it’s been a few days.”
My heart sinks as I realize my parents are home right now, probably sitting in front of the tree, heartbroken over the news of my death. They would know by now.
“Are ... are my parents okay?”
Vaelith steps forward and gently takes me by the shoulders. “Your father is staying strong for your mother, and your mother is staying strong for your father. They are holding each other up.”
I can only nod, not sure what else to say when all I want is to beg him to let me see them. But later. I stow the request away, focusing on the lovely gift he’s given me.
“I love it,” I tell him, forcing a smile. “Thank you.”
He leans in and brushes a kiss to my brow. “That isn’t your gift. It’s just the decorations.”
My eyebrow lifts as I let him turn me to the bed.
My boys are out of their robes. The yards of fabric are tossed in a dark pile on the floor and they stand in all their beautiful glory.
The symbol of my name blazes bright against the shadows of their bodies.
Pulsing rhythmically with their anticipation.
The sight of them hard and ready brings a grin to my lips as I peer up at Vaelith.
“For me?”
To my surprise, he shakes his head. “Not yet.”
His fingers find the zipper on my dress. His skin, warm through the fabric. The tongue is captured and drawn down the teeth in a slow, deliberate drag. The entire time, he peers into my eyes, taunting me with his lips hovering inches over mine. With the familiar scent of cloves filling my senses.
“How’d your meeting go?”
His low groan ripples across the inches of skin he’s baring. “Don’t remember any of it.”
I chuckle as he pulls the straps over my shoulders and lets the dress flutter down to pool at my ankles. “That can’t be good. Aren’t those meetings like super important?”
“They are very important,” he agrees, voice a husky tumble of amusement and annoyance.
Tentatively, I ghost my fingers across the hard interlocking roots expanding over his chest. “You should pay better attention.”
A hint of red fills the dark surface of his eyes. “Should have knotted you and made you sit on my cock when I called them back in. Bred you while we discussed politics.”
I offer a sassy little shrug. “Should have. Who knows what you agreed to when you were supposed to be focusing.”
I’m forced back hard against the trunk of the Christmas tree. The rough bark scratches my skin and pine needles sprinkle down on us, but I stare up into my monster’s glowing eyes with a grin on my face.
“Just for that tongue, I’m changing your gift.”
Feeling extra bold, I smirk. “You know I’m going to like it.”