The Fae King's Curse

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The Fae King's Curse Page 10

by Jamie Schlosser


  “How old were you?”

  “Ten. It was my first time using a portal. I wanted to see the mystical land my mother spoke so fondly of.” I smirk. “It was one of the places she forbade me to go.”

  “So, naturally, that’s where you went,” Quinn says, amused. “And? Was it amazing?”

  “Yes. I remember the rainbows. There were so many of them, dividing a sky that was both day and night. Stars twinkled faintly near the Night Realm border, and bright blue with fluffy clouds lined the Day Realm. It was the best of both worlds. There are these fruit trees. The leaves look like orange fur. A round blue ball can be found in the fuzz. Under the peel, there’s a pink citrus fruit with juice that tastes somewhere between a tangerine and a cherry. It’s called a gozzel. I must’ve eaten at least fifteen that day.”

  “Sounds yummy. Do you import them here?”

  “That particular item is owned by the Day Realm. Part of the treaty. But don’t worry, love. We claimed the waterfall mist.”

  “What’s so special about that?”

  “It’s the most refreshing drink I’ve ever had. It’s great for long days of travel, since it has extreme hydrating properties.” My heart feels a rare twinge because of the unending darkness stealing my vision. Quinn is still standing at the window, her fingers making soft sounds on the velvet curtains, and I wish I could see what she sees. “Describe the horizon for me. Please.”

  She likes it when I’m polite. I don’t say please to anyone but her, and I’m not sure she realizes that. She doesn’t know how special she is to me, and that’s no one’s fault but my own.

  I’ve spent so much time fighting this pull between us, but instead of trying to keep my distance, I should’ve been telling her how much I love her. How much she means to me.

  The day she reached adulthood, I should’ve confessed my growing feelings.

  Letting out a wistful sigh, she lifts the curtain a little more. “It’s like the sun is right there, below the mountains in the distance. If it were any higher, I think I’d be able to see a sliver of it. The clouds—they’re so bright, Kirian. They’re wispy and pink. They fade to purple as they get higher in the sky. The stars are still bright as ever, though. It’s like they won’t be outdone by daylight.”

  Her vivid description triggers so many memories from my youth. I recall how beautiful the sky was during early morning sparring sessions with my father and other young soldiers in training.

  “We’ll get about an hour of that twice a day,” I tell her. “You missed dusk last night because you were busy getting ready for the ball.”

  Her mood sinks at the mention of yesterday, and some of her happiness drains away. She’s still peering out the glass when she says, “I need to know what happened.”

  I scrub a hand down my face. “I never should’ve left you alone.”

  She approaches the bed, stopping just a foot away from the mattress. “I want you to keep me in the loop. I know you, Kirian. Don’t you think I can tell when you’re keeping something from me?”

  Sighing, I sit up and turn away, draping my legs over the side of the bed. I plant my feet on the floor as I hang my head.

  I can’t get anything past Quinn. It’s been like that since she was a kid. But I don’t want to tell her the rest of the information Damon gave me—the witch said I would lose her.

  When, where, or how is a mystery.

  Witches like to leave out vital details. It’s what keeps us coming back, making deals, offering valuable possessions in return for snippets of information.

  It’s one of the reasons I stopped dealing with them all those centuries ago. Even the kind-hearted ones love to play tricks. It’s just in their nature.

  But this time, I can’t let my pride or my opinion get in the way. I need help. I can’t gamble with Quinn’s well-being. If Damon’s witch has answers, I’ll give her anything she requests.

  A feather-light touch on my back makes me startle.

  “Sorry,” Quinn quickly rushes out the apology when I jerk.

  Fuck. I didn’t even hear her come up behind me on the bed, didn’t feel the mattress dip. I was so deep in thought I wasn’t paying attention.

  Since Quinn’s been here, I’ve been off. Distracted.

  In the best way, of course. All my senses are overloaded with her scent, the memory of our kiss, the way she makes my cock so hard it hurts.

  I can’t let that keep happening. Being alert could save her life.

  “I told you, you can touch me anytime you want.” I grunt, before honestly admitting, “Sometimes it just feels too good. You make me crazy, Quinn.”

  Tentatively, she brushes her fingertips over my shoulder blades again, right over the invisible slit to one of my wings.

  I hold in a shudder.

  Just like a faerie’s ears, it’s a hypersensitive spot on the body. Touching me there is basically foreplay.

  “It’s so impressive that those big wings are all tucked away in here,” Quinn whispers. Her breath tickles the back of my neck as she continues to caress my skin. “Do you just bring them out whenever you want?”

  Nodding, I try to ignore the throbbing erection in my pants. “When I want to fly. Sometimes they’ll come out during a time of aggression, anger, or fear.”

  “Like last night when you thought I was hurt.”

  “Yes.” I dip my head again, and Quinn’s arms snake around me as she hugs me from behind.

  “Talk to me, Kirian. Please.”

  I can’t deny her. Even if what I say will be frightening, I have to give in.

  “Damon told me something bad would happen to you,” I tell her, my voice gruff with emotion.

  “Like what?”

  “The fortune was vague, so I have no idea.”

  She heaves out a sigh. “So, that’s why you’ve been a grumpy butt? Because you’re worried about me?”

  She sounds relieved, which is odd, considering the unsettling information I just passed on.

  I turn my head her way. “Yes. Why else would I be a grumpy butt?”

  She giggles at my use of her words. “No reason.”

  “Don’t lie to me. I can tell when you’re being secretive as well.” Reaching behind me with both hands, I tickle her ribs.

  She laughs and wiggles, but I don’t let up until she says, “Fine, fine. Geez.”

  Huffing, she presses the side of her face to mine as she bashfully explains her suspicions that I’d found something out about my fated mate.

  “No.” Dropping my hand to her thigh, I rub her reassuringly. “And even if I did, it wouldn’t change how I feel about you.” Quinn lets out a skeptical sound, but she nods. Because she trusts me. “Try not to worry about what the witch said. I won’t allow you to be hurt. You’ll stay near me at all times. No exceptions.”

  Twirling a lock of my hair around her finger, she grins. “I guess that means you’ll get to hear me pee a lot more, huh?”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, her humor pulls a chuckle from me. “I have a feeling we’re going to learn a lot more about each other in a very short amount of time.”

  Kirian

  As with any morning after a big party, the great hall has been transformed into a grand breakfast. The thirty-foot dining table is covered in trays full of pastries, cured meats, five different types of eggs, and fruit juice from the palace orchards.

  The chairs are filled with the highest nobles. The ones who get the privilege of staying in the guest wing the night after a big event. Some are old friends. Some are trusted and revered council members.

  Every single one of them are suspects to me.

  Pacing behind the chairs, I sniff the air.

  I can sense the confusion and nerves from the occupants. Most of them don’t understand why I’m acting so strangely. Only the perpetrator knows I’m hunting for a hint of the portal smell. It’s similar to the way earth smells right before it rains, and it coats the skin. Sometimes the scent lingers for a day or so afterward.
r />   But I come up with nothing.

  “Several hours ago, someone tried to harm my mate,” I tell the room. The clink of silverware on plates stops as everyone gives me their full attention. “I guess the threat of banishment and execution wasn’t enough. If I find out who did it, the punishment will be worse. I’m thinking an iron spike to the heart.”

  Everyone, including my parents, gasps.

  The iron spike is one of the cruelest deaths. Agonizing. Slow and painful.

  See, getting run through the heart with iron will kill a faerie, but not right away. It can take as long as five days.

  Once the iron gets into the heart of the impaled fae, it pumps the infected blood to the entire body, causing twitching, seizures, organ failure, and internal bleeding. Eventually, the fingers and other extremities turn black and shrivel before falling off. All of this happens before death relieves the suffering.

  I’ve witnessed men cry and writhe and beg for the end.

  I, myself, have doled out this particular punishment three times. They were all Day Realm males who dared to steal a female from the Night Realm. But it wasn’t just the forced breeding they inflicted on my people that triggered my temper. No, it was the fact that the girls were children—fifteen or younger. Not even old enough to procreate. When I heard the cries of the girls who’d been rescued too late, all I could think about was Quinn. How angry I’d be if someone did something like that to her.

  In the Night Realm, torture is seen as barbaric, but I don’t fuck around with that shit.

  And I’m not fucking around now.

  I stop behind Quinn’s chair and reach out to lovingly caress her face. “Are you well, love?”

  “Yep. Gia gave me another dress, and she let me have the last gooseberry tart.”

  “That’s four gifts or favors,” my sister interjects happily, brushing her hands together as if she’s physically ridding herself of the honeysuckle debt.

  It’s amusing. Gia never did like owing anyone anything.

  “I need a word with King Damon before our departure,” I say toward the chair my cousin occupies next to my father. Then I lower my mouth to Quinn’s ear. “I’ll be where you can see me. Don’t go anywhere.”

  My lips brush against her flesh with every syllable. It’s not a kiss, but it affects her. Heat bursts from her skin and her pulse skyrockets.

  I love what I can do to her with just a simple touch.

  A chair scoots back, and Damon follows me to the other end of the room.

  Once we’re away from nosy ears, I quietly ask, “Will you travel with us to the Dream Realm? I don’t know your witch. She might be more willing to do business with me if you’re present.”

  “I figured you’d say that. That’s why I asked Torius to prepare a caravan. I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

  “Thank you,” I sigh, relieved.

  If there’s one person I trust with my life—with Quinn’s life, for that matter—it’s Torius. We’ve known each other since we were children. We trained together, fought together, won battles side by side. I know he’ll choose a good crew to travel with us.

  “There’s just one problem,” Damon says, rocking back on his heels.

  “What’s that?”

  “Astrid isn’t in the Dream Realm. She lives in the Shadowlands.”

  Quinn

  Good news: Kirian isn’t gung-ho about finding his true mate.

  Bad news: Someone’s trying to murder me.

  Speaking of murder, Kirian really knows how to kill a mood.

  Before he made his morbid announcement, everyone was cheerfully eating, and several fae were actually talking to me. One woman had heard the famous honeysuckle wine was from my field and she told me the gooseberries from the tart I liked so much were harvested from her estate.

  That was as far as the conversation got before Buzz Killington spoke up.

  Now I’m getting the silent treatment. Everyone’s eyes are downcast, as if their plates suddenly became the most interesting thing they’ve ever seen. It’s like they’re too afraid to even look at me.

  As I nibble on a biscuit, everyone eats quickly and makes a polite exit. One by one the table clears out.

  I glance over at Kirian. He’s still talking to Damon, and they both look so serious.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  I follow the voice to Gia, and for a second, I’m so shocked at what she said, I look around to see if she’s talking to someone else. But she’s staring right at me with those lavender eyes.

  “Oh, um, thanks?” It comes out sounding like a question.

  She sips from her golden goblet—the same one she let me drink from last night. “I’m sorry I was rude to you yesterday. I’m afraid I’ve been… jealous—” She makes a face, like the word tasted bad coming out “—of Kirian my whole life. I was just a baby when he went blind. Most of my early memories are of him getting all the attention. My parents were absent a lot of the time, searching for the witches.”

  “It’s true,” Zella interjects sadly. “Kirian wasn’t the only one affected. We all suffered, and Gia was too young to understand what was happening.”

  I know what it’s like to be lonely. I think of how my brother always got to do everything first and how he got my parents to himself for most of his childhood—he’d had one hell of a head start by the time I came along.

  And for the first time since Gia started challenging Kirian for the throne years ago, I actually feel sorry for her.

  “It’s not fun to be left out,” I tell her sympathetically. “I know that more than most. Apology accepted.”

  Frowning, she opens her mouth, but no words come out. She looks almost… disappointed. Like she expected me to lash out or argue with her. Maybe the fae aren’t as forgiving as humans. Maybe she wanted a fight.

  I’m not the right person for that. I’ve never been good at confrontation, especially when it comes to people I find intimidating.

  “No hard feelings,” I add. “I’d love it if we could be friends.”

  Pleased with the interaction, Zella smiles and Keryth raises his glass. “To new friends.”

  The few left at the table follow his lead, doing the same and repeating the toast.

  I don’t know why I thought we were going to fly again for our travel. If I had wings, I’d use them every chance I got. But I guess this is a five-day trip. Apparently, while flying is faster, it’s physically draining.

  My one regret from this morning is keeping Gia’s dress on. I should’ve asked for pants instead. Although I’m seated comfortably in the carriage, the bodice is restrictive. The corset makes my breasts bulge in the most ridiculous way, and when I’m sitting, it’s a little hard to breathe.

  I’m not sure how I’ll get the damn thing off tonight. With Kirian’s help, probably, since he refused to let any of his female staff ride along with us. He said he wants to keep our traveling crew small, and after what I learned this morning, I have to agree.

  Seriously, though. Corsets suck.

  When we go over a bump in the road, I bounce up in the seat. I come back down hard, the stiff rods inside the bodice poke my ribs.

  Ugh.

  Muttering a few obscenities about the female fae fashion trends, I rub my side. All the women here dress like they’re at a renaissance fair. It’s beautiful, but not practical at all.

  The guys, however, are decked out in battle gear. I’m talking black leather pants, heavy boots, and special shirts that let their wings out, should the need arise. They all have some kind of weapon strapped to their belt.

  Like a medieval biker gang.

  I’m a little sad I can’t see Kirian from here, because leather is a good look on him.

  The carriage is nice, though. I’m definitely getting the royal treatment in here. The padded cushions are upholstered in dark blue fabric and gold buttons, and there are a few pillows if I want to get comfy. There’s a basket full of snacks—cheese, bread, and fruit.

  But this ri
de, man. My ass can only take so much.

  As the wheel thumps over a rock, I groan.

  Maybe the fae should take a lesson from humans and get some shocks installed on their vehicles.

  I stick my head out the window, still thrown off by the perpetual night sky. “Um, guys? Do you think I could walk for a bit?”

  Slowly, we all come to a stop, and Kirian leaves his place behind Torius, trotting over to me on his horse. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just having trouble getting comfortable. Plus, I’m bored. I feel like I need to move my legs.”

  Frowning, he faces the front of the line where Torius leads. Then he turns to me, before tilting an ear toward the rear where another Night Realm soldier rides.

  I glance back at the warrior.

  Kai is a terrifying motherfucker. Even more so than Torius. There’s something cold and distant in his gray eyes.

  His sandy blond hair is braided in tight cornrows against his scalp and the rest is a tangled mess. He’s been burned so severely by iron, it left scars all over his face, neck, and arms. According to Kirian, Kai could’ve healed himself—since that’s his power—but he chose not to because he wanted the marks.

  See? Crazy motherfucker. Who does that?

  But if Kirian says he’s a good man, then he must be.

  I was told he and Torius saved Kai from slaughter in the Day Realm. He was seconds away from getting an axe to the neck. Rumor has it, he was such a good fighter he made King Zarid jealous. Instead of utilizing his skills, the Day King just wanted him gone.

  And that’s the main reason Kirian trusts the guy. Kai owes him his life.

  “It’s been less than an hour since we left,” Kirian says to me, pursing his lips. “Are you always this impatient when you travel?”

  I think of the road trip my parents and I took to Florida when I was ten. It was the first and last time we went anywhere far away. Apparently, I asked are we there yet way too many times.

  I shrug and admit, “Yeah.”

  “You can ride on my horse with me.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but that’s not going to help my ass. I’m taking a serious pounding back here.”

 

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