20. Elorie
Elorie
In the Ley Court, parties filled my evenings. I grew used to being paraded around. To being nothing more than something for Malachi to show off. Curiosity followed me around every corner. I was more of an object than a person there.
While I know it’s not the same in Quietus, nothing settles my nerves as I head toward the dinner hall for my first public gathering since arriving in Quietus.
My fingers smooth down the front of my dress. White starlight silk flutters at my ankles, tickling my skin with every step.
Up until now, I’ve opted for leathers, terrified to let my guard down again in any way.
I stood in the dressing chamber debating whether to wear them tonight, regardless of Aurora’s taunt in the hallway earlier.
But then Greer stopped by my room in a silver dress that wound around her body like fine vines climbing a tower, and I knew it was time to let my guard down with my mate and his court.
If Greer can lower her defenses for the night, then so can I.
I take a deep breath, pressing my palms to my stomach.
White lace molds to my skin from my breasts to my hips.
It only flares once it reaches my knees, allowing me to take larger steps.
Small gems dot the lace, sparkling in the torchlight and making me glow.
Over the lace are waves of white silk, draped at my chest and winding around my body to cover my most intimate parts, while revealing plenty of skin. The sleeves hang low on my shoulders.
The dress is revealing. Stunning. It perfectly hides the three rigid scars on my ribcage with the silk folds. My clavicle is exposed to show off my hanging heart rune. It’s as if it was designed with my body and secrets in mind, which can only mean Wilder guided the seamstress in its creation.
The gown is beautiful in a way that is unlike anything in the Ley Court. A style of another land—another people.
I roll my shoulders back as I walk through the palace. Guards pause as I pass, but their eyes don’t linger. I cool my expression, accepting the role I’ll be expected to play tonight.
Aether sparks at the edges of my mind when I near the dinner hall. The vibrations of my mate’s presence, even in thought, swim through me.
“Where have you been all day?” I open the thread to find Wilder’s warmth on the other end.
“Checking on the armies in Andare.”
“How are they?”
“Holding the line for now.”
My throat tightens. For now. But like everything else in the realms, we don’t know how long that will continue.
Voices come from down the hall, and my chest tightens. “Will you be at dinner?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for anything.” A figure dressed in all black turns the corner, and my heart jumps to my throat.
Like me, Wilder is often dressed more casually than the rest of his court.
He seems to prefer fighting gear, even when at the palace.
But tonight, he made an exception. His dark tunic is threaded with fine gold.
It molds to his body—to his thick shoulders.
Toeing the line of being royal and sinful.
Wilder’s sleeves are rolled up, showing off the runes on his corded forearms, and his shirt is open down the front, offering a tease of his perfectly carved chest.
My mouth dries at the sight of him. And when his eyes drag over me, glinting as his gaze once more meets mine, I’m surprised my steps don’t falter.
Those eyes cling to my soul. They trap me in place.
Wilder has been respectful of my boundaries since I’ve been in his court, understanding I was working through what happened between us and giving me my space. But tonight, he doesn’t look away. His stare lingers.
Unapologetic.
Intoxicating.
My neck flushes, and my cheeks burn.
“This dress on you…” He swallows hard, pausing before me, as if he can’t finish his sentence because I caught him off guard.
“I thought about wearing leathers, but I assume if I did, I would have been underdressed for this occasion,” I joke, my heart fluttering the longer he watches me.
Wilder’s entire body is rigid as his attention sweeps me again. “Gods, souls, and stars, Starfire. There are no words.”
“The Great King Riven, speechless.” I take a step forward, biting back my smile when his eyes meet mine.
“Only you could achieve such a feat.” His magic curls around me, snapping our bodies together as I catch my hands on his firm chest. He dips his mouth to my ear, tickling his breath against my neck. “You are the beginning and end of me, Elorie Vale.”
When he pulls back, our eyes meet, his full lips a breath away. I trace the lines of his strong jaw with my gaze. With a lift onto my toes, I could kiss him.
Gods, I want to kiss him.
I want to erase all this doubt I’ve harbored. I want to stop missing him when he’s right here in front of me.
His gold eyes sparkle, his pupils blown. And though I sense his own desire down the thread, he steps back and takes my hand like a complete gentleman.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of such a thing.” He kisses the back of my hand, grinning.
“Well, now you have.”
With his lips pressed to my skin, he smirks. “Shall we?”
I nod once, not daring to speak past the tightness in my throat. We walk hand in hand with an unbearable canyon of space between us. One I’m desperate to close as his magic roams my skin, teasing me.
The great hall is busy when we arrive, packed with Fae. But it’s the humans who catch me by surprise. Wilder didn’t just invite his court; he invited my people to this gathering.
In Malachi’s court, it was clear where I stood. Humans are a novelty more than anything. We’re beneath the Fae, to be used and discarded.
I’m beginning to see that’s not the case in Vaelier. But between the grieving pillars that mark a human custom in a Fae realm and the villagers eating alongside them at dinner, I get a glimpse of a more accepting court.
Glancing up at Wilder, I find his eyes already on me. There aren’t words to capture how much I appreciate this small gesture, but he nods as if he senses it anyway.
We weave through the room, and I spot Thomas fawning over Letia near the far wall.
Greer is at her side, and although Letia laughs at what Thomas says, she shifts closer to Greer as she does it.
Letia’s dress is made entirely of strands of gold gems strung so tightly they slink around her curves with each step.
The golden hue draws out the warmth in her rosy-beige skin.
Her cheeks are no longer bright red and wind chapped. They’re pink and warm.
Seren sips her wine at Thomas’s other side, angled as if she’s engaging with the group around her but distracted when her gaze lingers on Perame. They share a look through the crowd, and Perame is the first to look away.
I glance around the room at the beautiful gowns. There’s more variety than in the Ley Court. The finery of the Quietus Court has varied textures and styles. Lace, feathers, silk. Everything is intricately woven, as if the clothes are individually crafted to accentuate the body they decorate.
Rior and Atlas hover at a large tabletop, dressed nicely in varying shades of dark grays and greens. Atlas’s red hair is tied back, showing off his purple eyes.
“Who knew this group could be so formal?”
Wilder leans closer. “That’s what they’d like you to think.”
The tickle of Wilder’s breath on my neck makes me shiver. A soothing rumble hums down the thread as he must notice my reaction. His hand slides down along my lower back, stirring the need I’ve been denying.
Let him love you.
Letia’s words from earlier swim through me. I’ve held onto my anger to keep my guard up because once I give in, I won’t be able to deny the bond thrumming between us. But why do I continue drawing this line?
Why is being vulnerable so incredibly terrifying?
So undeniably thrilling.
I glance up at Wilder. Greedy desire burns hot in his eyes.
“Would you like to leave?” he offers.
“Of course not.” I shrug. “It’s only fair we make an appearance. Go, find your friends. Have fun.”
It’s tinged with a challenge as I peel away from him, and when I glance back, he’s frozen at the entrance to the room watching me. With a final smile over my shoulder, his growl is felt through the thread.
Let him love you.
Let yourself love him.
Wilder strokes my senses. A soothing calm that pacifies my nerves. Reminding me he’s more than my mate; he’s the male who comforted me in my darkest moments. Who cared for me in a court where everyone was looking out for themselves. Who doesn’t try to temper my fire—he stokes it.
He hands me daggers to fight alongside him.
He values my strength.
He’s my mate.
My mirror.
Wilder once told me love pales in comparison to the mating bond. I didn’t understand that until our bond pulled taut. Until he looked into my eyes and everything simply made sense. He isn’t just a part of me; he accepts who I am. Even when I continue to struggle with the duplicity myself.
“I’m surprised you made it to dinner looking at each other like that.” Letia smiles, her gaze bouncing between me and Wilder, who has found his way to Rior and Atlas.
“Be glad for your untrained senses.” Greer’s nose wrinkles as she takes a sip of her wine. “Then you’d be even more surprised.”
Letia’s eyebrows pinch while my cheeks flush with heat.
“You’re on better terms, I see?” Letia asks hopefully.
“I thought about what you said, and we talked.”
“Talked? Good Gods, Elorie,” Greer grumbles, and Letia chuckles. “Bed the male already before this heat between you two drives the rest of us mad.”
My eyes find Wilder’s across the room, and once more, his are already on me.
“Has Callum mentioned any progress in his research?” I change the subject.
Greer huffs a laugh, not missing how I dodge her comment but letting it go. “Nothing yet, and I can’t sit still any longer. I heard a few might be heading out tomorrow to coordinate the ships moving out of Tael; I might join them.”
“Itching for a fight?”
“Something like that.” Greer’s shoulders stiffen.