Chapter 11
Niko
The human is tenacious; I’ll give her that. Few people could survive being dropped into a new place alone with nothing but their suitcase contents to defend themselves. She ran from my mother and Finnick when they offered her help, but I can’t blame her for that. They are strangers to her.
I blame Ender.
He should have protected her. At the very least, he shouldn’t have left her alone to fend for herself.
Now she’s requesting to leave, and even if that was a possibility, I can’t let her go.
She is far too valuable for me to lose. I just have to make her want to be here.
She hasn’t had the best introduction to my kingdom, but I plan on changing that as soon as I’m able.
We walk in silence back to the tent. Zephyr moved to keep stride with me, but each time I try to meet his gaze, he turns from me.
I feel his confliction through our bond, but he’s doing his best to push me out.
He knows I hate when he blocks me out. I knew taking on a human wife would be difficult for him.
Hell, I argued against this, but Zephyr was the one who insisted I do it.
Perhaps he’s regretting that decision now.
Evangeline has fallen behind us, keeping a good distance away.
I see her gaze wander over to Zephyr constantly, as if studying him.
I don’t blame her. Zephyr is beautiful. He walks with grace and poise only a skilled fighter can muster.
There’s confidence in each stride, one he wears like armor.
He’s good at keeping people at a distance and pretending like nothing ever gets to him.
I know that’s a lie.
He feels far too much, more than other fae. He carries the burdens of others on his back. He’s done that for me, his parents, and now, probably, Evangeline.
Finnick flutters before me, pulling me away from my thoughts. My brother rests his hands on his slender hips. “Where is she going to sleep?” he asks. “Did you prepare for her?”
He knows the answer. I haven’t. She has a room prepared at the castle, but that’s a half day's voyage from here, and considering Evangeline looks ready to pass out from a mixture of fear and exhaustion, I won’t risk taking her.
I’m not even certain I’d be able to make that journey right now. No, sleep is a must.
“She can have my cot,” I say with more conviction than I feel. “I’ll share with Zephyr.”
Zephyr grunts. The cots are barely suitable for one body, let alone two. There’s no way we will both sleep tonight, but I’ll make sure my stubborn mate does. I feel his waning magic and know he’s used more than he should. Without the proper food to help him regain his strength, sleep will be vital.
Finnick lets out a dramatic sigh, clearly unimpressed with my plan.
He doesn’t voice his disapproval, but it’s written all over his face, even though he doesn’t try to recommend a plan of his own.
No, he’d rather just be mad at my shitty one.
With a beat of his wings, he takes off. Not toward our mother, who lingers at the rear with quiet grace, but toward Evangeline.
He lands lightly on her shoulder. She startles at first, her body tensing, but quickly softens when she sees him.
A tentative smile curves her lips, cautious but curious.
By the end of the week, they’ll be inseparable.
That’s just the kind of effect Finnick has on people—charming, disarming, and impossible not to like.
I won’t pretend it doesn’t spark a flicker of jealousy. The ease with which he earns her trust. Still, if he can help Evangeline feel more comfortable—like this kingdom could truly be her home—then I’ll take that trade.
We make it back to our tent a few minutes later. Two fae guards stand outside, bowing when we approach. “King Niko. King Zephyr. Welcome,” they say, eyes lingering on Evangeline. Zephyr gives them a curt nod before walking into the tent without looking back.
I sigh and turn to Evangeline. “I must apologize for our housing. Tomorrow, we’ll take you to the castle. It’ll be warmer there too. This is only for one night.”
Evangeline regards the tent with a scowl, like it personally offends her.
When she sees me watching her, she quickly schools her face into something more neutral.
“Is this where you’re sleeping too? Like, all of us?
” There’s a faint flush to her cheeks that makes her appear younger, making me wonder how old she is.
“We will,” I say.
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you, and if anyone gets too close, I’ll fly under their clothes and bite them where the sun don’t shine,” Finnick says valiantly. I can’t help but roll my eyes.
But his words make Evangeline laugh. It’s soft, barely noticeable, but it’s a pretty sound. Like chimes in the wind, gradually getting louder. But it disappears as fast as it comes. “Thank you, Finnick. That’s kind of you. Did you happen to find my suitcase?”
My brother nods. “We sent someone to retrieve it. He’ll put it in the tent. It looked heavy. Did you pack anything other than pans?” His brow cocks up.
“Some clothes, but the pans are the most important.”
“Why?”
I would also like to know the answer to that, so instead of going inside the tent, I linger a moment longer.
Evangeline just shrugs. “Remember I said I’m just a chef?
I like my pots and pans, and I’m very particular about what I use to cook.
They mean a great deal to me. And apparently, I’ll need them to battle Nephilim. ”
“Yes, very effective.” Finnick nods in agreement, almost as if he’s considering bringing a pan to the next battle. I can already see his mind coming up with ways to get me to change out all our weapons for kitchen supplies. I’m not going to hear the end of this anytime soon.
Before Finnick can gain any more clever ideas, I pull back the flap of the tent. “Come inside. It’s getting cold—well, colder.”
Evangeline looks over her shoulder. My mother gives her an encouraging nod, and soon she ducks inside, disappearing from view.
Finnick follows her before I can stop him, and I turn back to my mother.
“You should stay in the tent with us too. Evangeline might feel more comfortable if there is another woman around.”
She gives me an apologetic smile. “I’m needed at the healers’ tent. There are quite a few injured. The dead also need their bodies prepared for their loved ones upon arrival.”
My stomach churns with guilt and something that tastes like failure.
My mother reaches out, seeing the obvious pain in my expression.
“None of this is your doing, son. Death is inevitable in every war. I fear it will get worse before it gets better. You must do your job as king and stand tall. Get that woman to love you. Because love is the strongest weapon of all. That’s how we will defeat the Nephilim, my boy. ”
Love, when guided by purpose, can be the most powerful force in the world.
But like any power, it’s fragile, easily twisted, and easily broken.
Love can inspire peace or ignite war. We walk a razor-thin line between love and hate, constantly trying to balance the two.
One misstep, and everything could unravel.
One moment of weakness, and the tide of this war could shift for good.
It’s a heavy burden to place on the shoulders of one woman.
“These are all the provisions we have for the evening,” Zephyr says as he enters the tent after going to the food storage to scavenge for something.
I declined, of course, but that only seemed to piss my mate off more.
So I didn’t attempt to stop him when he stalked out earlier.
I’ve learned it’s best to let Zephyr do what he wants when he’s in a mood like this.
Zephyr holds a half loaf of bread and two canteens of water.
He tosses me one and hesitates slightly before offering the other to Evangeline.
She looks at him and then the canteen, taking it from him.
Their dynamic is strange, but it’s clear there is tension on both sides.
Perhaps this could be a good thing. Zephyr might learn to love her. No matter how much he insists he won’t.
The bread he divides up is hard as a rock and stale, but still edible. Kind of. I take a bite, and it feels like I’m chewing on stone. What I would do for warm soup right now.
Evangeline regards the piece of bread like we’ve offered her soiled goods. That’s not too far from the truth. She brings it to her nose and sniffs, scrunching up her face before placing it down on the ground next to her cot. “I’m not hungry,” she lies easily.
“You won’t find much else to eat out here. I suggest you not be picky.” To prove his point, Zephyr takes a bite out of his bread, wincing slightly as he chews.
“Then I’ll just eat when we return to your castle,” she says, as if that’s a real possibility. Maybe three months ago, but now our supplies are running low. At best, we have a month of food left to nourish our kingdom, but I’ve heard tales of fights breaking out over rations.
Zephyr just grunts, not bothering to entertain her any longer. Which is fine. He’s not the most welcoming, and the last thing I have time for is petty arguments he’ll start if he keeps speaking to Evangeline like she’s the enemy.
Finnick takes matters into his own hands as he dives for Evangeline’s discarded bread and chucks it right at Zephyr’s head. It makes contact, hitting him square in the forehead before falling to the floor with a dull thud.
The room is quiet.
Until both Evangeline and Finnick break out in uncontrollable giggles. Despite myself, I can’t help but smirk. Evangeline’s laughter is infectious. Zephyr shoots me a reproachful glare, but there’s no true malice behind it. At least I don’t think so. He’s hard to gauge right now.
“You’re really souring the mood, Mr. Grumpy,” Finnick says once he’s controlled his laughter. “I hope that stale bread hurt.”