Chapter 23 #2
Now was not the time, but Pavlok and Melgar had forced my hand. So be it.
The room was silent, all eyes riveted on me, except those who were glaring at Jessamine. And though her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, my mate stood with her head held high and proud. As she should.
I held out my hand to her. “Come to me, Jessamine.”
A few fae gasped and whispered as she walked across the room and took my hand, standing by my side. I met their accusing stares.
“My father took what did not belong to him. My mother. He paid the price, as did she. And as did I, being raised to a full-grown beast fae without parents of my own. The clan raised me. And they raised me well.” I swept my gaze across the room.
“I would never repeat my father’s sins. Jessamine,” I tugged her closer, “is my gods-given mate.”
“She can’t be,” said Melgar, his expression contorted in confusion.
“Are you calling me a liar?” I asked.
Melgar’s eyes widened. He looked at Jessamine then shook his head. “No, my lord.”
“Where is her mark?” someone asked.
Jessamine wore a dress with a scooped neck, revealing the fair, unbroken skin at her shoulder. “That will come,” I assured them. “For now, you must all know and accept that, yes, I have taken her to my bed. And every time we’ve coupled, it has been proven that she belongs to me. And I to her.”
There was no need to be any more frank than that.
I’d had plenty of lovers outside of this clan, choosing never to take one among my own for the troubles it could cause.
Many beast fae took lovers for pleasure, but they rarely took them for long, always seeking the mate the gods intended for them.
It was wrong to procreate with any but your mate.
And I’d never found my mate among the beast fae females I’d bedded elsewhere.
Melgar and Pavlok were angry because they thought I was simply sating my appetite with the pretty foreigner in camp, that there was no way the gods would bind us together as mates. They were wrong. And though I’d thought the same before, I was wrong too. Happily mistaken.
And there she was—this light fae female, with her pale skin and blood-red hair, her defiant chin in the air. She was my mate, and I couldn’t be prouder or more grateful.
I turned to face my clan, finding expressions of surprise and wonder, disappointment, and a few smiles.
“Now that that’s settled, Leifkyn, gather ten warriors and meet me in my tent. The rest of you stay here,” I commanded, roughening my voice with the dominant beast that lived inside me. “The clan sleeps together in this cave tonight.”
I wasn’t going to speak of our plan of action in front of the council or anyone else who thought they knew better than the king of this clan. My command for them to stay put was to keep them safe.
“Come with me,” I told Jessamine. “Let Shearah tend to Dayn. Lorelyn,” I called. “Follow us.”
I marched out first, sniffing the air for any signs that the grimlocks might have returned. But I knew they wouldn’t. They’d caught their prey and were far away by now.
We moved silently through the darkened camp to my tent. Leifkyn carried a torch inside and lit the fire pit on the tripod.
With the ten warriors Leifkyn pulled from the crowd—I noted they were all unmated males, which was wise—we gathered around the fire and sat upon the rug. Jessamine settled next to me, Lorelyn on the opposite side of the circle. Bezaliel and Tessa burst in.
“You’re a fucking madman if you think you’re planning anything without me,” Bezaliel barked.
“Sit down, Bezaliel. I would not cut you out of the plan. I merely thought you might need more time with Tessa.”
“No,” said Tessa. “We are not grieving or in mourning. Our child is alive.” She thumped her breast. “I can feel it here. She is alive, and we will help find her.”
I gave her a grim smile, buoyed by the fact that Bezaliel had mated a fierce woman.
“Good. Then we will find her.” I turned my attention to Lorelyn. “When we chased the grimlocks, they vanished deep into Wyken Woods. There is no way they simply outflew us that fast. One minute we heard Saralyn, the next we couldn’t hear her anymore.”
“By all the hells, I’ll tear them to pieces,” cursed Tessa.
Bezaliel took her hand in his lap. “It is true. There is no way they outflew us so fast.”
“You think it’s black magick,” said Lorelyn.
“Yes,” I assured her. “So we need magick of our own to find them.”
Lorelyn shook her head. “I can cast the runes or scry. But it would be better if we had some of their blood.”
“I don’t have their blood,” said Jessamine, “but I have some strands of hair.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a clump of coarse, green hair. “I pulled some loose when I was fighting one of them. I don’t know why I kept it.”
I did, but I didn’t voice it. Jessamine was full of magick, likely had some seer powers of her own. She somehow knew we might need it.
“Leifkyn, fetch some of their blood as well. I left a corpse out in the field. Balko, go with him.”
The two left while Jessamine stood and went to our washing bowl. She emptied it outside then filled it with my water satchel hanging on a hook near the tent entrance. I liked watching her move about our tent, like she belonged here.
Before long, Leifkyn returned and we gathered back around the fire, Lorelyn sitting before the bowl. She squeezed the blood from Leifkyn’s handkerchief into the water then sprinkled the hair onto the surface.
We all sat quietly, waiting in anticipation. Lorelyn was our only beast fae with magick, and we depended on her time and time again. I was afraid to wish for too much, for her to discover where they were by simply scrying.
Lorelyn murmured in a whisper as she used her forefinger to swirl the blood and hair into the bowl. Magick sizzled along my skin as her power filled the room. Jessamine had taken a seat beside me, resting on her heels.
A subtle red glow radiated from the scrying bowl.
Lorelyn continued to chant inaudibly, faster and faster as she stared down.
Her dark hair hung loosely, blowing in an ethereal breeze.
The water stopped rippling, flattening into a sheet like glass.
Lorelyn gasped and clenched her fists, her gaze fixed on the bowl.
After another moment, the red glow faded, mist hissing up from the surface. Lorelyn's shoulders relaxed and she straightened as the scrying magick slowly disappeared.
“What did you see?” I asked instantly.
“It doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head.
“Whatever you saw,” said Bezaliel, “please tell us. Anything at all could help.”
She blew out a breath, her brow beaded with sweat. “Scrying doesn’t always give me a clear picture. Since we used the blood and hair of one of the grimlocks, my vision was from his point of view.”
“And?” pleaded Tessa.
“He lives in a cesspool of malice. There are two voices in his head.”
“Two?” I asked. “How do you mean?”
She shook her head, tucking a lock of her hair behind her pointed ear. “I can’t say exactly. One is strong, one is weak. The stronger voice is not his own, but it lives there inside his mind, guiding him.”
“And what is it guiding him to do?” I asked.
She swallowed hard, her throat working as she glanced piteously at Tessa. “To gather food.”
“Goddess, help me,” Tessa cried, burying her face in her hands.
“But this dark master does not simply eat for sustenance. It is the power he gains, that he craves.”
Bezaliel wrapped his arm around Tessa’s shoulder and pulled her against him. “What else did you see, Lorelyn?”
Nodding, she added, “This is the part I believe might be helpful, though I’m not sure how.
When I blocked out the voices and focused on my visual senses, it was hazy.
But I did see something. There was complete darkness, but inside a small hole or pit of some kind there were balls of light.
They were different sizes—all bright white.
One was very small, but the brightest of them all.
Before the vision ended, I heard the cry of a baby. Of Saralyn.”
Tessa wiped her eyes and took Bezaliel’s hand. “It was her? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.” She gave Tessa a sympathetic smile.
“What else did you see?” I asked.
“Nothing. But I smelled earth. Musty soil and mildew. It was odd. They’re somewhere dark and enclosed, but it was not a cave.”
“But where?” demanded Bezaliel, his patience gone.
“I don’t know.” Lorelyn exhaled a sorrowful sigh. “I wish I did.”
“What good is your magick if it can’t help us get them back?” snapped Bezaliel.
“Hush.” Tessa squeezed his hand, gentling her voice while still being firm. “Lorelyn has given us the knowledge that our child is alive. That is more than we knew before.”
Bezaliel stood, his expression grim, his face flushed, still riding his anger. “I apologize, Lorelyn. But this isn’t enough.” He moved his gaze to mine. “This won’t help us get my daughter back.”
He stormed from the tent, knocking the flap back with a hard thwack. Tessa hurried after him.
“Do not listen to him,” I told Lorelyn. “We appreciate your gifts, and what they can offer us.”
“But he’s right,” she admitted sadly. “It’s not enough. We need someone with more powerful magick.”
Another silence fell between all of us. Then Jessamine cleared her throat, sitting up straighter beside me.
“I think I know a way.”
All our attention was on Jessamine, her emerald eyes wide with apprehension but also determination.
“Or at least I can try.”
“Tell us, my lady,” said Leifkyn.
“The water well.” She looked at me hopefully. “I’ve sensed a naiad lives there. Though I’ve never seen it, I felt them when I fetched water there.”
“How could they help?” Haslek asked, one of the ten warriors Leifkyn selected.
“Naiads know things,” she said simply.
Then Lorelyn chimed in. “That is true. Can you summon the naiad and speak to her?”
Jessamine’s mouth quirked into a rueful smile. “Like I said, I can try. They are not biddable creatures.”
Indeed, she was my fated mate. The gods sent me a beautiful and powerful woman, to aid me and our clan when we could not help ourselves. We took her in to offer her help and protect her, but it was she who may be our saving grace.
I reached over and took her hand in mine. “Then by all the gods, my heart, please try.”