Chapter 8 #2
“I don’t want your atonement.” Freya hurls a cushion at me in frustration, which hits my chest. “The sins of your parents aren’t yours.
We have been fighting our families’ wars for fucking generations.
I want our kingdoms to make peace. I want us to unite in a pack and ensure that happens.
If you intend to give me any more gifts for the rest of my life, then give me that. ”
I stare at Freya in shock.
If she’d demanded my head on a silver platter then I would have given it.
My head, my heart, my eternal soul.
Instead, she asks for peace.
“Does Relius agree?” I wonder, confused. “He’s the one who is trying to conquer the kingdoms and force the rest of the world to kneel.”
Freya’s gaze slides away from mine. “He will do, eventually.”
“Eventually,” I repeat. “And what does he feel about me?”
I feel raw and vulnerable.
I shouldn’t want my best friend back who saw me talking to my rats and thought my Power was amazing, rather than freakish.
Yet I do.
Freya’s expression becomes closed-off. “Let’s say that I’m working on that too. You’re more similar than either of you will admit. Both of you are too focused on revenge, blood, and betrayal, rather than what you have right in front of you.”
Freya wraps her arms around herself.
Then she leans out and slowly cups Daire’s cheek. “He’s cold.”
“Roll him toward me,” I order. Freya studies me, warily. “Trust me, my dear.”
“Never again.”
I let out a wounded sound before I can stop myself. “You should just stab me.”
“It can still be arranged if you harm Daire.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
Freya nods, before grabbing Daire by the shoulders. His wings droop lifelessly in a way that they never should. She rolls him on his side closer to me.
I struggle to turn around to him.
Then I bite my lip, allowing the blood to bead.
I bend to kiss my King to complete the ritual by transferring my blood to him.
For a long moment, nothing happens.
Panic spikes through me.
I lick my tongue over my bleeding lip, encouraging the flow, before forcing my bloody tongue into his mouth.
Daire makes a sleepy, confused sound deep in his throat, sucking the blood from my tongue.
My heart leaps.
I draw back, pushing the curls away from Daire’s forehead.
Freya is right. He is as cold as the dead.
When I drag a blanket over Daire, I realize with relief that he is gaining consciousness, awoken by the ritual. In response, his magic and blood are thrumming more powerfully through me, awoken as well.
My muscles become stronger.
I grin.
It’s working.
I sit back, straightening my kilt.
Freya rushes to drag Daire into her arms. She kisses over his wounded neck and up his jaw.
Sleepily, Daire opens his eyes, glancing between us in drowsy confusion.
“There you are.” Freya tries to say the words like she hasn’t been crying over him for hours. “My fae fool.”
“Hmm, but an adorable one,” Daire replies, hoarsely. He reaches up with a trembling hand to straighten his crown. “That was one wild ride. Can we do it again?”
Freya curls her arms more tightly around him. “No fucking chance. He almost drained you.”
“Almost being the interesting word in that sentence.” Daire’s intense lavender gaze scrutinizes me in question. I don’t look away. “Well, my blood is irresistible…like I am.”
“It’s lucky that you’re as weak as a kitten right now, or I’d smack you.” Freya half sobs and half laughs.
“Are we back to the whole Kitten thing?” Daire scrunches his nose, affronted. “And this is why I never learn because you don’t take me in hand.”
“Don’t worry, I will do later,” Freya promises. “And Lanlin called himself a puppy.”
Daire’s expression lights up. “I could adopt a vampire puppy.”
“Even one who tears out your throat?”
Daire gives me a long look. “Why did you? Or more to the bloody point, why did you stop?”
I grit my teeth.
Does he truly wish to know why I drained him? Or why I didn’t kill him?
Are they the same question to him?
Do neither of them still understand?
I would save or destroy worlds for them.
Yet I have also noticed…seen…them in a way that I never have anyone, even Lazarus.
I know the way that Freya’s shoulders soften when she feels safe in our nest and how her laughter comes quieter sometimes like she is too used to being taught that Omegas aren’t equals.
I have watched her offer kindness to everyone but herself.
She thinks that she is a great spy, no doubt, and that no one notices these things.
She is wrong.
I notice all of them.
I notice her.
Perhaps, this is why I find it impossible to look away. Not because I believe that she needs saving but because every part of me wants to stand between her and anything that would make those shadows in her eyes any deeper.
My devotion is quiet, but it is complete and eternal.
And Daire…?
His smile sharpens whenever the conversation wanders too close to the wounds of his past. He wears confidence like a dazzling crown. Others may see its brilliance. As one king to another, I see its weight.
He is stained in grief, but he hides it with humor.
I can still sense the ghosts clinging to him, as my own cling to me.
I understand him more than he knows.
I want to say all that. But I have never been good with words.
I have probably spent too long amongst my animals. It’s what most people have told me.
Instead, I say, “I am not some soft fool like Relius.”
Daire snorts. “Relius is not soft.”
“For you he is.”
“For. Not to…?” Freya quirks her brow.
What does she mean?
Daire flushes.
I massage my arms, feeling my strength return to me by slow degrees.
When I glance up at the sky, blood-red inexorably creeps over the moon’s pale face.
“You can manipulate Relius, right?” I move my ankles in circles, as my numb feet tingle.
“You must do because you believe that you can manipulate me, and on my heart, you’re right.
You only tricked me because I allowed myself to be.
I wished that our happy nest was real…that I had discovered an Omega and sweet pet from the Shadow Court…
so much that I didn’t trust my gut. Your lives rely on tonight, however, and the ritual being correct.
At a time when I am at my weakest, I may have taken more blood than strictly necessary because I couldn’t allow the most powerful fae in the realms to be at his strongest.”
I expect Daire’s expression to harden.
I expect rejection of my scheme.
Instead, Daire’s wings flap, and he struggles to sit straighter.
“I see how it is.” He appears delighted. “You finally see me, aye? How dangerous I am. How much of a threat.”
Relieved, I bare my sharp canines. “Your blood tasted like eternal life. I wish that I could never have stopped drinking.”