15. Elorie
Elorie
“How do I have an entire wardrobe when I’ve only just arrived here?” I stop in the doorway to the dressing chamber, my hands at my hips.
“It’s been waiting for you.” Wilder smiles, sweeping me with his gaze.
He paces toward me, and I wait for him to comment on how I chose a set of leathers instead of one of the hundreds of starlight silk dresses hanging on the rods.
I considered them, remembering Malachi’s requirement that I be draped in the finest gowns when inside the palace and wondering if that’s what’s expected for someone standing beside a king.
But Wilder isn’t Malachi. So I chose comfort in an unknown place over the stunning gowns.
After all, the leathers are just as beautiful in a different way and incredibly soft.
The leather is unworn and thick, unlike the thinly stitched sets I’ve been wearing these past few months on Alyssium.
The pants have an intricate, tightly stitched braid that weaves up the front of the thighs, while a formfitting corset hugs my ribs in a way that’s more for protection than to steal my breath.
It’s as if these clothes were stitched with my exact measurements in mind.
The sleeves are loose to allow easy movement, and my clavicle is exposed, showing off the rune that matches the one on my mate’s chest. A rune he proudly displays with how he leaves his shirt open to that point.
Wilder isn’t dressed in as grand attire as Malachi used to wear around the palace, but his black shirt and pants are stitched with gold designs, much fancier than what I’ve chosen. Royal and stunning.
“Wear whatever you wish.” He soothes my worries, walking over to me. “I’d be fine if you wore nothing at all.”
“I’m sure you would.” I roll my eyes, glancing down as he pulls something from his belt. “My daggers.”
“Greer had them polished for you when you arrived.” He doesn’t hand them to me, stepping closer to slip one into the sheath at my hip himself instead. “I thought you might want them back.”
“What do I need to know about this meeting with your court if you’re fitting me for weapons? Are we walking into battle?”
Wilder presses closer, the heat between us instantly scorching.
His fingers graze the sheath at my thigh as he slips the second dagger into it so slowly it’s intimate.
His eyes don’t leave me the entire time.
The static of his magic plays beneath his palm.
So hot it tickles me through my clothes.
His mouth hovers a breath away as I crane my neck back to look up at him.
We’ve yet to kiss, just as we’ve yet to discuss the secrets he kept in the Ley Court. And that simple fact is all that stops me from lifting onto my toes and giving in to this undeniable pull between us. This hot need pooling in my belly.
Wilder’s gaze drops to my mouth. “We’ll see when we get there.”
His tone is light, but his posture is stiff, as if he also doesn’t know what to expect from this meeting.
When he steps back, the heat of his magic retreats, snapping my body to attention again. It’s so easy to get lost in his eyes. His attention. His scent.
I clear my throat, keeping a gap between us as he guides me through the palace.
We weave through the hallways, lined with stone bricks.
Vines creep through the cracks, climbing the rocks and adding greenery to the gray.
Flowers offer pops of color. It’s so different from the Ley Court, which was decorated in gold and adorned with cold metals.
The Quietus Court is full of life; it’s practically breathing.
Those we pass in the hallways nod, not dropping to a knee for Wilder as they’d often do for Malachi. I suppose if he hasn’t claimed his crown yet, that might be why they don’t bother.
“It’s because I don’t ask that of my people,” Wilder clarifies through the thread, whispering a caress against my thoughts that sends a flush of goose bumps up my arm.
Our connection was always undeniable, but with the mating bond in place, it’s visceral. Hard to ignore when I’m still struggling with all that’s unfolded between us.
We pass another group of Fae, and their gazes follow me. Their focus is on my rounded ears and blue hair. Wilder must sense my unease because he places a hand on my lower back and guides my path until my shoulders loosen. The hallway narrows with Fae bustling around us, but he keeps me close.
Every time we pass a window, I get a glimpse of the lush landscape. Like in the bedroom, there is no glass. Simply a magical film tempering the temperature and wind.
“You once told me a territory’s landscape changes based on the heart of the ruler,” I say through the thread. “But there’s so much life here.”
“What did you expect?”
“Something more… electric. Something more unpredictable. Something that felt more like you.”
Wilder smirks, pulling me closer with his magic. “I’ve been gone a long time, remember?”
Even as he speaks in my thoughts, I swear I feel his breath tickling my neck. His amusement playing in his tone.
My eyebrows pull as I glance out the window again, wondering who Quietus mirrors if not Wilder as he guides me through a set of towering birch doors. Tree trunks are carved into each panel, starting halfway up, with roots stretching down to the floor.
The room is round, with no ceiling as the walls stretch in a silo up toward the sky.
It’s open and lacks any decor, apart from a single grand table at the center.
But I’m too distracted by Callum and Greer huddled with Perame across the room to focus on anything else.
The moment they come into view, my heart somersaults.
Our plan worked. They’re here.
When I stepped into the prison, part of me accepted the possibility of never seeing them again. To know that’s not the case has tears stinging the corners of my eyes.
Greer smirks at something Perame says, while Callum’s lips purse with his thoughts.
He’s dressed in perfectly polished armor, unable to relax for even a moment, and it’s so like him that I smile.
Perame’s red curls are tied in a wild ponytail, showing off her pink cheeks.
She absentmindedly spins a dagger in one hand as she talks to them.
“I told you they made it.” Wilder leans close, his eyes sparkling when my gaze meets his.
“It’s just…” I clear my throat. “It’s been a long few months since the Ley Court. It’s hard to believe we’re here.”
His thumb brushes my lower back. “I know.”
“Wilder.” A smooth, melodic voice comes from my right, and I turn as the most beautiful female walks toward us.
Her sage eyes match the leaf hairpins that secure her warm-copper hair off her face.
Her piercing gaze moves between me and Wilder as she approaches.
Pale-green lace molds to her body, cut low in the front and accentuating her curves.
It’s decorated with a heap of feathers on each of her shoulders.
They trail down her arms as if they are not arms at all, but wings. A red blush paints her dark-tan cheeks.
The female stops in front of us, her hands relaxed at her sides. Her green eyes assess me with more disinterest than anything before her gaze snaps to Wilder.
“We need to speak about Tael’s ships. Lord Darvel is getting impatient.”
It seems she’s the impatient one.
“Because she is.” Wilder chuckles through the thread. “Aurora, I’d like you to meet Elorie.”
Her teeth click with a hint of irritation, but her face remains passive.
So this is Aurora. The female who sat on Wilder’s throne this past century when he was locked in a prison. I suspected she was a force to be reckoned with since she held such a role for so long, but to see the full force of the female standing before me is intimidating.
She’s powerful.
Confident.
Stunning.
Wilder hasn’t defined their relationship beyond his confidence in her ability to run his kingdom, but I’ve always suspected it was more than friendship if Malachi once believed Aurora was Wilder’s mate.
Considering that now, I wonder how deep their connection must have been for him to trust her that much.
Aether tickles my skin as Wilder’s magic pulses over me in a blanket of comfort, but it does nothing to settle the stir of jealousy.
“So this is your mate.” Aurora’s eyes slide to the rune on my chest. It marks the tie between our magic, not our mating bond, but she eyes it as if it is one and the same. “Lovely to meet you.”
There’s nothing lovely about her tone. If anything, my presence seems to annoy her when she clearly has more pressing matters at hand.
I nod, smiling tightly as I turn to Wilder. “I’m going to say hello to Callum and Greer while you touch base with Aurora.”
He slips into the thread. “You don’t need to leave on her behalf. I trust you with any battle plans. There are no secrets between us.”
“I know.” Even as the words leave my mind, a pinprick of doubt sparks just out of reach.
A flicker of what I’ve battled with these past few months creeps through now.
I’d like to think Wilder and I are beyond secrets, but we’ve yet to discuss all those he kept from me in the Ley Court. Mate or not, Wilder has no problem getting creative in the name of protecting me. While I hope we’re past that, I don’t doubt my mate’s ruthlessness for a second.
“I appreciate the offer, but I need to check in on my friends. I’ll be right over there.” I squeeze his forearm, shifting away before he can kiss me.
The pull is undeniable, and yet, I resist. Something holds me back.
Wilder’s magic follows me across the room, clinging to my senses, only loosening when I reach Callum.
Greer spots me first, cutting off Perame mid-sentence.
“Gods, you scared me.” Greer bursts around Callum, pulling me in for a hug and gripping my shoulders as she steps back. “We weren’t sure how long you’d sleep. You were mumbling when you came here; I thought maybe the prison had done something irreversible.”
“How long was I in there?”
“Six days. How long did it feel like?”
“An eternity and also like no time at all.” A shiver climbs my spine.