CHAPTER SEVEN
ILET OUT A GROAN thick with sleep… Waking up feels hard this morning.
Wait. Morning? I was only supposed to be out for a nap, not all day and night!
My arms fling out on either side of me to an empty bed.
I swear… No, it must have been a dream. Killian would never crawl into bed and hold me.
He’s made his stance on our bond clear, no matter how much I wish he could change his mind.
One day he will realize he won’t hurt me, but for now, I’ll be supportive.
Well, as supportive as I can be—it hurts the bond when he denies us, and there’s only so much of that I can take, but I understand his reasoning.
Ugh.
It’s too early for such serious thoughts.
My hands brush the bed beside me, the sheets cool to the touch. I swear though, it felt so real.
Nero hops off his perch and lands beside me.
“That’s because the cranky brute was here last night.
Sat right there in the chair staring at you like Jesper does right before he devours you.
That is until you started crying in your sleep.
The panic on his face was almost comical. He left when the sun rose.”
I blink at him. “I’m sorry, what?”
He sighs, leaning down into my face. “Big fae. Big muscles. Long braided hair. Cranky. Ringing any bells? He was here with you; it wasn’t a dream.”
I sit straight up, almost knocking over Nero in the process as a warm fluttering feeling takes root in my stomach. Maybe there is hope for us.
Before I can dig myself a mental thought hole, Jesper comes barreling through my door and I instantly open my thoughts up to him, something that has become second nature when it’s just the two of us.
He tackles me into the bed and pouts. “I see Killian has got you all worked up. I would take care of it for you, but it’s almost noon and Aemon has called a meeting in the war room. I figured you’d want to be there for that?”
“Noon? Why in the void did I sleep so long? Why did all of you let me sleep so long?” I panic as I struggle to untangle myself from the sheets to get ready.
And why in the Fates do I still feel so exhausted, like it’s seeped into my bones and won’t release me from its grasp?
It’s probably just because I slept for so long.
Jesper stops me, kissing the tip of my nose. “You’ve been pushing yourself hard. You clearly needed the rest. I’m sure you’ll be back to yourself in no time.”
My body leans into him, seeking his comfort. “You’re probably right,” I sigh. “Okay, let me finish getting ready and then we can figure out the plan.”
He leans down, stealing a kiss before leaning against the pillar of my bedpost, gesturing for me to continue getting dressed.
I try to suppress a smirk but my lips twitch as I strip myself bare, slowly, tantalizingly, until his eyes are so dark with lust that I swear I’m moments away from him devouring me like I’m the last meal he’ll ever have.
His thoughts bleed through the bond. “Fucking Fates. Aemon won’t care if we are late…
right? No, Jesper. Keep. It. Together. War.
Dying fae. Boobs. FUCK. Think of Killian’s hairy ass…
hairy ass… hairy… ass. Fuck her ass is so fine.
I just want to bite it. NO! Bad, Jesper. Just one little taste won’t hurt…”
Nero’s caw mimics laughter. “As entertaining as it is to listen to his unhinged thoughts about your body, we should really get going.”
I pout at him for spoiling my fun, but he’s right. So to put Jesper out of his favorite kind of misery, I throw on a tunic and leggings before attaching my blade to my waist. I’m not going anywhere without that. The purple gem on the hilt glints in the sunlight and it reminds me.
I scoop up the necklace and place it into my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Jesper asks as he rearranges his cock, probably so it makes it easier for him to walk.
Feeling exhausted all of a sudden I turn to him. “I want to bring it to my mother later. I have some questions for her.”
He nods understandingly but eyes the jewelry in my pocket like it personally victimized him, which in a way it did.
It made me forget them. With a few strides across the room, I grip onto his hand and pull the shadows around us.
It takes a moment longer but eventually we’re engulfed in darkness and spit out on the other side—into the war room.
The room is full. Everyone is here including Batsil—our old Elemi instructor at Phixmery. I swallow nervously but straighten my shoulders. It probably doesn’t appear ‘royalty-like’ to be late to important meetings. Especially a meeting that will determine the fate of Damorleia.
“You’re fine, Little Dream. Everyone only just arrived themselves. Why don’t you come and take your seat?” Aemon whispers in my mind as he stands from his seat at the head of the table and moves to the seat next to it.
Nero soars off my shoulder and takes to the perch that has been added since the last time we were in here. “It’s a better view from up here. Don’t worry Rav, I’ll keep an eye on things.”
My feet carry me with confidence—and nerves—as I round the long table that holds a three-dimensional map of Damorleia.
The pale stone chair sits proudly with a deep blue cushion awaiting my arrival.
Without hesitation, I sit promptly, quickly adjust the blade at my hip to be more comfortable and look over everyone at the table.
Determination and exhaustion. That’s what I see.
My family and friends have seen more than enough bloodshed and experienced too much heartache already.
Especially Lennox. He sits there looking ready for war, though, and I don’t blame him.
Yet as I scan the table I see the same resolution on everyone’s faces.
Including my sister’s. “Cynder, I’m glad you and the Safir Raiders could join us.”
She dips her head, the same pink eyes of my—our—mother flicking up at me before darting to the pirate that was injured. “Of course. We want to help.”
I smile softly at her, trying not to let the worry for her seep through my careful facade of being put together. Fake it until you make it, right? “If it’s alright with you, I would like to show you something after training this evening or whenever you’re free?”
Her brows pinch but she nods, agreeing, and I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Whereas I look like my fathers, she is nearly a spitting image of the Queen, or at least how I remember her from my fledglinghood.
My hands clasp together as I place them on the end of the table. “Alright, where are we? Any word from our troops or pixies?”
Aemon pulls out a couple pieces of worn and dirtied parchment from his tunic before passing them to me.
“According to the front, word has spread to the rebels about a call from their Queen and they have been pouring into Vathia to assist.” He hesitates for a moment before continuing.
“Some have brought news of other villages and cities around Damorleia, and the Lords are working fast, it seems.”
My stomach tightens with nervous anticipation of what I know isn’t going to be good news. “Well, get on with it,” I state, needing to know.
“Smaller villages that have aligned with the hope of finding a new Queen… or hoping you are alive… are being razed to the ground. We have reports of five so far with minimal survivors—mostly fledglings and lesser fae protecting them who were found hiding in the woods outside of the razed zone.” His voice is firm, yet detached like he’s refusing to let himself become emotional while delivering the facts.
“There have also been sightings of encampments outside the capital of each province. Although the reports on these are uncertain, we believe Nulls—er, non magicals—are being rounded up and kept here.”
Bile rises in my throat as I attempt to keep my composure.
“Anything else?” I ask, while trying to put my thoughts in order.
My parents worked so hard to give non magicals and different fae like pixies and satyrs the same rights and privileges as everyone else, and to hear about all their progress being undone has my anger brewing and ready to spill over, but I must remain composed.
Patience. If one day I will be taking on my mother’s mantle, I can’t let my emotions rule me.
Jesper’s hand twitches like he wants to take me into his arms, but somehow he restrains himself.
“One last thing—it might be good news,” Aemon adds, feeling my inner turmoil. “My spies have spotted signs of Dragons in the Gratandi Mountains.”
Vasari’s interest peeks through our bond, so I open up completely to her, letting her hear the conversation.
“Signs?” I ask, glancing around the table.
Aemon passes me the parchment. “It arrived just before this meeting. I barely had time to scan it before you arrived. But yes, it seems they’ve found scorched trees and some loose scales in a clearing.
It’s not much, but it’s more than we had.
If the rest of the dragons have fled north from Phixmery… and if we find them…”
“Then we might be able to meet with them and arrange a truce,” I add. “Save their home in the Dreki Mountains in exchange for the chance for our warriors to bond with dragons.”
Because of the war, Vathians haven’t had the chance to go to Phixmery or visit the Dreki Mountains in hopes of bonding with a beast, and we will need more air troops if we are to have a chance at keeping our citizens safe and defending our home.
“Oh, Lost One. You forget, we are Queens. And dragons take what they want. We will bring them home, I can feel it in my bones,” Vasari states, sounding like the bloodthirsty Queen she is.
Nero scoffs. “Are you sure it’s not just the sheep you ate? All that fur can’t be easy to digest.”
Her growl cracks through the bond and I block them out because I know I’ll get distracted by their bickering and end up having to referee. “I’m assuming they are going to keep searching?”
Aemon nods.
“Okay, anything else before we try to figure out our next steps?”
Killian sits up and my stomach swoops. I’ve been trying to avoid looking at him knowing he was in my bed last night holding me.
That his touch wasn’t just a dream. “I’ve talked with the others and we’ve sent contact to your elite warriors.
They will be on their way here for your protection.
As the future Queen in the middle of a war, you shouldn’t be without them.
It was a mistake leaving them behind at the front lines. ”
It takes all my willpower to stop my eye from twitching. I understand where he is coming from, but I wish I was included in that conversation, because I thought we agreed they were better off on the front line, that I was safe here at Aemon’s castle—
I take a breath, stopping that line of thinking. Nowhere is safe, I remind myself. I was almost assassinated not long ago within these very walls. “Thank you, Killian, but going forward I would like to be included in the conversation about the whereabouts of my guard.”
He grunts but dips his head ever so slightly, so I take that as a win.
But even though I’m trying my hand at patience and understanding, I can’t help but tap into my Szellemi magick and knocking on Kill’s mental shields.
He lets me in almost immediately. It’s not the same as having a mating bond where it’s effortless, but at least I can still communicate with them this way.
“Don’t think I don’t know you were in my room… in my bed. We will talk about it later.”
His gaze widens and thoughts of me burst to the front of his mind, of him wanting me, how he watched me all last night. Of how unbelievably hard he was, before I’m shoved out.
I’m nearly panting at the desire I just felt from him. Oh, yeah. We will definitely be talking about that, but now he refuses to meet my gaze.
Jesper clears his throat while trying to smother his laugh and the rest of the table appears confused.
Trying to gather my thoughts back into a semblance of order, I lean forward, gazing at the table and the markers noting our troops versus Craven’s and the other Lords’. “I think it’s time we talk about our next steps.”