by Amy Sumida
They were also a pain in the patootie.
The parents had given up on trying to corral their young and had let them run wild. There was simply too much going on to keep the children calm. All we could do was try and direct them toward the best options for venting their bubbling energy. I had never been so happy to have built a faerie version of a playground.
“They grow so fast,” Queen Liatris said as she watched after the children with me.
“Especially when they're dragon-sidhe,” I added. “For awhile there it felt as if they got bigger every morning.”
“At least they've finally regulated,” she noted. “I was worried that I'd have children the size of teenagers before they were five-years old. I'm not ready for teenagers.”
“No one is ever ready for teenagers,” I said cryptically.
“I fear that you're right,” Lia whispered as she watched Baidhen launch his naked sister off the highest point of the jungle gym.
Sinnea shifted as soon as she hit open air and took flight as a miniature, sleek, black dragon. She screeched as the other children cheered. Liatris only sighed and went to collect her daughter's discarded clothing.
“That's my girl!” King Rowan shouted from the other side of the playground.
Rowan and Arach were standing with the other royals; drinking faerie wine and watching their children proudly.
“Yeah; great,” Liatris mumbled. “We have a daughter who likes to get naked in front of others and fly away. Yippee.”
Not only did Liatris look like me, but she also had a bit of my personality. Lia was nearly my twin except for the true-black color of her skin, and the lavender shade of her eyes. The traits we shared had been taken from me when I had been an avatar for Faerie to transmutate the Darkness into a race of faeries. I had gotten used to being around Lia, but it had been weird at first.
Every faerie had magic that originated from their element, and so the dark fey had dark magic. With the dark-sidhe—the ruling class of the dark fey—that had translated into dark emotions. Rowan and Lia had changed a bit when they became dark dragon-sidhe, but they still had the dark magic inside them. Rowan held Lust—the lucky bastard—but Lia had got the short end of the magic stick and carried Shame. It made her a little shy and sometimes depressing. But she was a sweet woman, and she had grown on me.
“Let's leave the children to their fathers and go have a drink,” I said to Lia.
Liatris straightened from picking up Sienna's clothing and blinked. “You know what? That's a fantastic suggestion. Forget this pixie poop!” She tossed the clothes back down on the grass. “Let's try to get wasted.”
Lia had also spent some time in the Human Realm, and she could sound as human as I did.
“Arach!” I shouted. “You're it!”
“Your it too, Rowan!” Lia shouted next.
Then we ran into the castle giggling as the men stared after us in confusion. Inside, we found other mothers; who had evidently had the idea to take advantage of their husband's distraction before we did. Fionnaghal—mother of the Hidden One children—was sitting in the dining hall with Neala—mother of the phooka pups, Lorna, and a few of the fire fey mothers. Fionnaghal was getting wary looks from some of the visiting faeries, but those who lived in Aithinne seemed completely comfortable. That alone felt like a huge triumph for me.
When I had first come to Fire, the Hidden Ones were true to their name and hid in caves below the mountain-castle. Now, they walked freely among their people. The fact that the Hidden-Ones could still terrify the other fey races had become a source of pride, not only for them, but for all of the fire fey. My people loved being the most fearsome faeries in the room, and the Hidden Ones were created to instill fear. Most fire fey could now break bread with a Hidden One without batting an eye, and that made the Hidden Ones feel wanted while simultaneously making the rest of the fire fey feel a little more bad ass. As if sitting next to a Hidden One proved that you were fearless.
I suppose it did. Personally, I felt kind of kick-ass when I sat down next to Fionnaghal. Especially when her bright, dandelion eyes filled with joy, and her long, slender snout crinkled as her mouth spread in a smile filled with razor-sharp teeth. Her eight, greenish-gray, elephantine legs shivered as she shifted to hug me.
“Congratulations on the anniversary of your sons' births, my Queen!” Fionnaghal exclaimed.
“Thank you, Fionnaghal,” I said as I hugged her back warmly.
The ruff of horns around Fionnaghal's face got tangled in my hair when we tried to pull away from each other, and Lia had to help us get unbound. We all laughed over the extrication, and then glasses full of strong, faerie wine were passed down to me and Liatris. The fey wine had a greater potential for getting me drunk, but it would still take quite a bit of the stuff to keep me there.
“I'm just relieved that we don't have to go through that flying debacle again,” I said. “Watching my children get tossed out of a window is not for me.”
“You don't want anymore children with the King?” Neala asked in surprise; her fiery eyes widening.
“Oh, I do, but...” I trailed off as I realized that I would have to go through the flight ceremony again with Samara. “Farfegnugen! I forgot that I wasn't done having dragon babies.”
The women laughed while I grumbled to myself about stupid dragon traditions. As I muttered, Anna walked up. Anna was Hunter's mother and one of the first fire cat-sidhe transmutated by Faerie.
“May I join you?” She asked.
“Of course.” I waved to an open spot. “Can someone pour Anna a glass of wine?”
“Oh, no; none for me,” she said and blushed.
We all went still.
“Are you...?” Lorna let the question hang as we waited with baited breath.
“I'm pregnant,” Anna confirmed with a smile.
“A second child,” Lorna whispered. “You're so blessed.”
“I am,” Anna agreed and looked away.
“Roarke hasn't asked yet, has he?” I whispered.
Anna swallowed roughly and looked up at me. “Well, in his defense, I have given him mixed signals.”
“King Roarke hasn't proposed yet?” Neala asked in shock. “You're carrying his second child, and the cat hasn't manned up?”
“Have you tried hinting that you'd be open to it?” I asked.
“No.” Anna cleared her throat. “That's not my style.”
“Anna, I know Roarke,” I said evenly. “He loves you more than anything. When your eyes went fiery with the change, and all the cat-sidhe started saying it was a sign of royalty, he couldn't have been happier. He wants to marry you, you just have to let him know that you won't stomp all over his heart and pride when he asks.”
“If Roarke can't find the courage to face the possibility of rejection, then I don't want to marry him,” Anna said firmly.
“Fair enough,” I said with a sigh.
Neala snorted. “Silly cats; allowing pride to stand in the way of love. You want Roarke to risk his while you don't risk yours. Marriage is about compromise; if you can't bend a little now, then you'll never budge and you shouldn't get married.”
The rest of us went still as we looked back and forth between the cat-sidhe and the phooka. I wondered if I was about to witness an epic cat and dog fight.
“Silly phooka,” Anna shot back. “Marriage is not about compromise. It's about worth; how much you value each other. For a relationship to work, both parties must feel as if they have won some kind of cosmic lottery. You must treasure each other, and that kind of esteem starts long before any compromising does. It must be fostered; especially in men. You must remind him—often, and in no uncertain terms—that he is lucky to have you. If you give into the temptation to help him woo you, you run the risk of him seeing you as something too easily won. And treasure is not found, or kept, easily. If Roarke wants to be my husband, he must show me how much he treasures me; I must be valued or I will not be his wife.”
I started
to clap, and the other women followed suit. Anna smiled and blushed again.
“I concede the win to you,” Neala said graciously. “But with one caveat; there will come a time for compromise, Anna. Being treasured is a wonderful thing, but it doesn't always come with respect. True love must be fed, and compromise is one of Love's favorite dishes.”
“Well said,” Anna agreed. “I'll consider compromising... after I'm married.”
We all laughed and clicked our glasses together. But secretly, I wondered whether Roarke would ever realize that Anna wanted him to risk humiliation for her. Men could be dense, and one of the biggest mistakes I've seen women make is to assume that their men knew what they wanted. In my opinion, men—like all of us—do well with a little guidance. You can play hard to get and still give a little encouragement along the way.
It seemed like the compromise that needed to be made was between the two perspectives.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It turned out that Anna didn't have long to wait, and Roarke wasn't as dense as I'd thought.
After the presents had been opened and the cake consumed, the children finally wound down. They swayed sleepily in their seats; trying their best to stay awake long enough to watch the adults dance. Most of them passed out before the second song.
We were in the ballroom—socializing while the musicians took a break—when the sound of a guitar cut through the soft chatter. Everyone turned to the stage, where Roarke was standing, holding a guitar. He smiled at Anna—who stood only a few feet away—and started to sing.
The song he had chosen was “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran, and it was indeed perfect for them. The lyrics spoke of a love fostered through youth and brought into full bloom with age and patience; just like Roarke and Anna's romance. Roarke fastened his eyes on Anna and sang all the truths that he had tried to tell her for so long. He wasn't letting her go this time; she was perfect for him, and he was going to sing until she accepted it.
I felt a hand slip into mine as I watched Anna start to cry. When I looked up, I saw Arach smiling down at me.
“You helped him do this, didn't you?” I asked Arach.
I knew that he had; Arach was far too controlling to let Roarke get away with commandeering any part of the evening without permission. Roarke was also one of Arach's closest friends; although you'd be hard-pressed to get the dragon to admit it.
“I'm very romantic, you know,” Arach whispered into my ear.
“I do,” I whispered back.
“My life transformed from a bleak, hopeless existence, full with anger and violence, into something bright and beautiful the day you first said those words to me,” he said tenderly. “Helping another man transform his life feels like paying off a debt.”
“I treasure you too,” I said softly to him.
Arach smiled brightly, and then we set our gazes back on Roarke; just in time to see him leap off the stage and stride to Anna. Roarke continued to sing about how perfect Anna was; how strong and beautiful, and how he hoped to build a home with her and share her dreams. Anna was trembling by the time Roarke reached her; her usual control shattered. When Roarke finished the song, he got down on one knee before Anna and pulled out a sparkling ring. Anna had one hand pressed to her mouth while Roarke firmly claimed the other.
“Anna,” Roarke said with a soft smile, “I have loved you since I was a kitten. We've had our battles, and we've been torn apart, but somehow, we always make it back to each other. You've given me a son and now you carry our second child. I could never love another woman as I love you. You saw me through the roughest times of my life and helped to create the most joyous moments. You are more than any man could ever hope to hold, and I have let your perfection intimidate me into silence. But I refuse to be silent any longer, Anna; I need you to be mine forever. I cannot go another day without knowing that we'll face the future together. Will you marry me?”
The whole room went silent and every eye turned to Anna.
“It's about time!” She huffed angrily through her tears.
Roarke's fiery eyes widened as Anna shoved her finger into the ring he held up to her. And then she dropped to her knees before Roarke and hugged him tightly.
“I have loved you for nearly all of my life, Roarke,” Anna declared. “Of course I'll marry you.”
The room exploded with applause.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
After Anna's surprisingly emotional acceptance of Roarke's romantic proposal, the celebration found its second wind. The musicians took the stage again, with Roarke and Anna dancing amid a sea of well-wishers. I was tempted to wrangle Arach into a dance, but our little princes were curled up on a loveseat fast asleep, and they made it look like a good idea.
“Let's take the birthday boys up to their beds,” I said to Arach, “and then maybe we could have a private celebration; just you and I.”
“Sounds perfect,” Arach agreed as he went to scoop up Rian.
I got Brevyn, and we headed out of the ballroom; wishing people goodnight as we went. Several of our guests would be staying overnight, so I didn't feel bad if I missed a few. Most likely; I'd see them at breakfast. Dexter, who had been hounding our heels all evening, strode after us. He followed us up the stairs and into the nursery.
Arach and I got the boys in bed and then headed to our own room. Dex followed, and went right into his miniature bed. He must have been as exhausted as I was because he was asleep in seconds. But as soon as Arach started undressing me, my lethargy faded. His hands roamed over me expertly, and I was reminded of all the reasons why Arach was so perfect for me. He carried me to our bed, and we took our time treasuring each other until our passion was finally appeased and sleep took over.
In the morning, I gently woke Arach to tell him I was heading back to the God Realm. He murmured a sleepy goodbye and watched me through half-lidded eyes as I got dressed. When I reached for my ring to ask it to take me back to Pride Palace, Arach spoke.
“I love you, A Thaisce.”
A Thaisce—my treasure—Arach had known all about what Anna had tried to tell us. And he had treasured me from the very start. Suddenly, his term of endearment for me became less about a dragon's love of wealth and more about how much Arach valued me as his lover, wife, and the mother of his children.
“I love you too.” It seemed too simple a response in that moment, but it was all I had, and—miraculously—it was all that he needed.
Arach smiled in sublime happiness and that was the image I took with me across space and time. When I reformed in Pride Palace, I was still grinning.
“All is vell vith dragon?” Kirill asked.
I looked over at Kirill and grinned wider. “Yeah; we just had Brevyn and Rian's birthday party last night.”
“Vish zem happy birthday for me,” he said.
“And something else happened.” I went to sit on the couch between Kirill and Trevor.
“What's that?” Odin asked as he came into the room.
“Roarke proposed to Anna,” I said.
“Did she accept?” Trevor asked with a skeptical expression.
“Of course she did.” I slapped his knee playfully. “She does love him, you know?”
“Could have fooled me,” Trevor huffed.
“Some women aren't as demonstrative as others,” Odin said.
“They're having another baby,” I added.
“Anna's pregnant again?” Odin asked. “That's wonderful news. Give them my best wishes.”
“I will.”
“On that note; we have a very upset visitor,” Odin announced.
“What? Who?” I sat up.
“Persephone,” Odin said grimly. “She's downstairs in the dining hall. Vervain, she's crying. There are a whole lot of confused men trying to comfort her, but none of us know what to do.”
“Fuck,” I hissed; too upset to worry about minding my tongue.
I ran to the elevator, and the men went with me. As we descended, I tapped my foot impatiently,
and when we finally reached the bottom floor, I shoved the elevator doors open and ran into the dining hall. Sure enough, Sephy was sitting in an armchair before the fire, surrounded by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Toby, Re, and several Intare. All of the men wore matching expressions of dismay.
“Everyone with a penis needs to get out,” I said as I pushed through the wall of masculinity.
Persephone looked up at the sound of my voice and wailed, “Vervain!”
The men ran for the door as if the Abyss had opened.
“Sephy, what happened?”
I went forward, and she stood as I reached her; going straight into my hug.
“Hades,” she sobbed.
My heart sank.
“Is Hades okay?” I whispered.
“He's a fucking bastard, is what he is!” She pulled away to screech suddenly.
I gaped at her.
“He's cheating on me!”
My jaw fell even lower and my eyes widened. “No way.”
“With Mac's mom!”
“What the actual fuck?” I shouted.
“I know!” She shouted back.
“That lowlife, son of a baboon's ass!” I screamed.
“He's the filthiest scum that you find around the cracks of a toilet!” She added.
“And a complete moron to ever cheat on you,” I said and then simmered down. “Are you sure about this, Sephy? Did you actually see him with her?”
An image of Lilith popped into my head, and it suddenly occurred to me how strange it was that two amazing women—both within my sphere of friends—would suspect their husbands of adultery around the same time. What were the odds?
“Yes, V; I saw him.” Persephone fell to the floor and started sobbing brokenly again. “I saw him with her. I walked in on them together.”
“That fucking demon fart!” I shouted. “That piece of harpy shit!”