by Lexi C. Foss
“Human food.” My nose scrunched. “Why are you eating human food?”
Kolstov shared a look with Zephyrus. “I told you. She knows nothing about Midnight Fae.”
I ground my teeth together, tired of this rhetoric.
But he wasn’t done.
“When did you start learning about other fae realms, Zeph?”
The headmaster finished swallowing before saying, “As a child.”
“Me, too. I remember Dorthia quizzing me about the Fae Royal names when I was, like, six or seven.” Kolstov pinned me with a gaze. “Midnight Fae frequently enter the Human Realm because we need their blood to survive. As a result, our palates have evolved with theirs, making mortal food very common in this kingdom. Consider that your introductory lesson. Now open your mouth and eat what I’ve given you.”
I considered his words and decided to go for an honest response. “Six or seven years old,” I repeated, tasting the words. “Hmm. When I was around that age, my parents left me with a single mother and her two children, stating they would return. Except they didn’t. Their links with the source disappeared, leaving me as the sole heir. Then, a little while after that, a psychotic fae tried to kill me and absorb my earth magic.”
I paused for effect.
“So yeah,” I drawled. “I’ve been a little busy trying to survive for the last fourteen or so years. Forgive me for not adding fae politics to my pampered agenda.” I shoved away from the table, done with him and his pompous criticisms.
None of this was my fault.
And I was very tired of his condescending attitude.
He caught my wrist as I rounded the small dining table, his golden irises flaring. “You need to eat.”
“I don’t drink blood, but thank you anyway.”
His brow furrowed. “I wasn’t offering my neck.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, just the bloody worm soup. I’m good. I’ll make myself something from the earth.” Assuming I could conjure up an edible plant in this realm. All the plant sources I felt around me were far from friendly.
Case in point, the burning thwomp.
Definitely not going to try to eat that.
“It’s spaghetti,” Kolstov repeated, tugging me back toward my chair with his too-strong arms. “Noodles, not worms. Tomato sauce, not blood. And a meatball.” He finished his explanation with a shove that had me landing square in my seat again. “Take a bite. Aside from the heavy garlic, I think you’ll like it.”
“A meatball?” I repeated, my stomach churning. “Like, from an animal?”
“Probably a mix of pig and cow, yeah.”
I gagged. “You’re eating an animal?!”
He shared another of those looks with Zephyrus, then reached across the table to pluck the giant ball of crap off my plate and tossed it onto his own. “Now you just have noodles and tomato sauce. Bon appétit.”
Zephyrus snorted, sliced a knife through the glob on Kolstov’s plate, and took half the meat pile for himself.
I shuddered. So gross.
Elemental Fae didn’t eat Human Realm animals. Their diets weren’t adequate enough for our tastes. I preferred a nice slab of medium-rare orc, or even a grizzly pink potpie.
My stomach growled at the thought.
Zephyrus’s gaze narrowed, those sharp green eyes seeming to peer right through me.
He patted his shirt, producing a wand from a pocket I couldn’t see, then waved it around with a few muttered words. A plate appeared a moment later with a shroom loaf on top of a bed of purple leaves. He swapped it for my dish without a word and dumped the bloody worms onto his own plate.
Kolstov smirked.
Zephyrus remained silent.
And I eyed the magical creation with strong skepticism. “What did you put in it?”
“Take a bite and find out, princess,” he replied with a wink.
I huffed. Well, it’s better than what they’re eating, I decided, taking my knife and fork to cut a sliver from the magically produced food.
Zephyrus ignored me, his focus on his own plate. Meanwhile, Kolstov’s brow furrowed as I brought the browned fluff to my lips and took a bite.
“What is it?” he asked, sounding appalled.
“Shroom loaf,” Zephyrus informed him. “Popular in their realm.”
“How the hell do you know that?” he demanded.
“You’re not the only one who took cultural courses, Your Highness.” Zephyrus gave him a look that resulted in a scowl from the Midnight Prince.
Such a strange dynamic.
Zephyrus struck me as older, not because of his title, but because of the experience underlining his features. Definitely not of Academy age, yet not too much older.
Headmaster.
Something told me that term didn’t mean the same in this world as it meant in others.
He wasn’t in charge of the Academy because he didn’t have the right air of authority for that. Too laid-back in his treatment of Kolstov. Not proper enough in my presence either.
But he could definitely pass for a professor.
“Do you teach?” I asked him while cutting off a large bite. It wasn’t the most amazing shroom loaf of my experience, but I liked the smoky flavor. It provided an exotic touch, as if Zephyrus had singed the ends himself with his Midnight Fae energy.
“That is what a headmaster does, yes.” He tapped his fork on the plate, staring at his food, and sighed. “Do you know anything about how Midnight Fae Academy is run? How our Houses of Magic work? The bloodlines that drive our course studies?”
My cheeks heated. “As I told Prince Kolstov, I haven’t taken a course on your political structure yet. It was on my calendar for this year, in addition to devoting my time to helping my fellow Earth Fae rebuild. Which I apparently won’t be doing now.”
Over half of my kind had perished in the last few decades due to a wicked abomination sucking the energy from our souls in an attempt to gain access to additional elemental sources. It left the Earth Fae in shambles. Something I expected to help nurture and fix over the next fifty or so years.
Then Shade bit me and turned my plans to dust.
“I’m aware of what happened in the Elemental Fae kingdom,” Kolstov murmured. “I supplied textbooks to Exos and Cyrus for—”
“Master Kolstov,” a gravelly voice interrupted as the gargoyle swooped in over our heads.
My eyes widened at the breadth of his stone wings. For such a tiny body, I expected a few inches at most. But no, the width was as long as my arm.
Wow, where does he hide those while in the door?
“Yes, Sir Kristoff?” Kolstov prompted, arching a brow.
“A Sangré Blood is at the door for you, sir,” the gargoyle replied, bowing low before whirling around to return to the foyer.
“Ah, Chern must have sent us a party gift.” He dabbed his lips with a napkin, then excused himself. “Be back in a few minutes.”
“Party gift?” I repeated, glancing at Zephyrus. “And what’s a Sangré Blood?”
“One of the Midnight Fae bloodlines.” He sipped from a glass of red liquid that was either wine or fresh from a human’s veins. I didn’t ask. Considering my glass contained water, I suspected it was the latter. “There are five active houses of our kind: Death, Elite, Sangré, Warrior, and Malefic. I’m a Warrior Blood. Kolstov is an Elite Blood. Shade, your betrothed, is a Death Blood.”
“Betrothed,” I muttered, hating that word. “Soon-to-be-dead betrothed.”
If Zephyrus heard me, he didn’t acknowledge my comment. “Each line has an affinity for different types of dark magic. It’s similar to your elemental assignments, except ours is defined in the blood more than in our souls. As your bond with Shade settles, you’ll likely join his line. But your Royal Fae essence may contradict it.”
“That’s why the Council wants her to take courses under all the houses,” Kolstov said as he returned. Rather than reclaim his seat, he moved to stand behind mine. “Lift your hair for me, gorgeo
us.”
The request sent a chill down my spine, my hands locking around my knife and fork. “Why?”
He combed his fingers through my dark strands and bent to press his lips to my ear. “Because I need access to your throat.”
I jolted, the silverware crashing against my plate as I covered the pulse points beneath my neck. If he thought to bite me, then he had another think coming. “No!”
His hands landed on my shoulders before I could even jump out of my chair. “Chill, Aflora. I just want to put a necklace on you.”
“A necklace?” I repeated, trying to glance back at him. His hold kept me in place.
“It’s necessary.”
“That doesn’t tell me—”
“The Council needs to temper your elemental abilities to ensure the safety of the students,” Zephyrus explained in a bored tone. “The choker will keep you under control.” He glanced up at Kolstov. “Now, was that so difficult an explanation?”
Temper my abilities?
Leather wrapped around my neck before I could voice the question out loud, Kolstov already moving my hair out of the way.
I tried to shift out of his grip, to stop him from sealing the brace around my throat, but it snapped into place with a zing that pierced my soul.
My hands flew up to tug at the choker, to find the clasp and unfasten it. Only, it was solid all the way around, sealed by magic.
“Remove it,” I demanded, my spirit whimpering inside at having been cut off from my source yet again. “Remove it now.”
Kolstov settled into the chair at the head of the table, his sigh long and loud. “It’s necessary, Aflora. We can’t risk you disturbing the balance or creating another burning thwomp where you shouldn’t.” He looked pointedly at the ashes still littering his living room floor. “This will also help us observe your dark-magic growth. Zeph is going to take you shopping tomorrow for a wand and other essentials.”
“Yes, because apparently it’s my job to play babysitter,” the headmaster retorted. “If the Council is so concerned for her safety, perhaps forcing her to attend the Academy wasn’t the brightest move.”
Tears stung my eyes.
Protection was the least of my concerns considering they’d just wrapped a shackle around my neck to control my abilities.
It suffocated my ability to think, to continue listening to their maddening conversation. All I wanted—no, needed—was to rip this offending collar from my throat.
But it wouldn’t budge no matter which way I pulled or yanked.
“Why are you even still here?” Zephyrus’s harsh tone drew me from my turmoil, lifting my focus back to the two bickering males.
Kolstov’s cheeks were a dark shade of red, his lips flattened. “To help with the transition.”
“Bullshit. Your father sent me to handle it so you could go enjoy your final week of debauchery before classes begin again. If you’re not planning to do that, then I’ll go back to my life and you can manage her transition.”
Kolstov slammed his fist onto the table. “I didn’t ask for you to be here.”
“Well, you didn’t suggest otherwise either, did you?”
Silence.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Just like the headmaster position. You claim to have balls, Prince Kolstov. And while I know they exist, they sure do seem to shrivel up into nothing where your father’s edicts are concerned.” With that crude statement, Zephyrus shoved himself away from the table so hard his chair toppled onto the ground.
He didn’t bother righting it.
Just turned on his heel to leave.
“Ten hours, Aflora,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Be ready to go.”
Kolstov watched him go with burning gold irises. When the door slammed in the distance—presumably to the guest room—the Midnight Prince snapped his fingers.
An apparition appeared beside him, the ghostly female boasting a maternal glow as she stared down at him.
“Clean it up,” he demanded as he stood.
“Of course, sir,” the apparition breathed, her words ghosting through the air and leaving a chill in their wake.
Rather than follow Zephyrus, he headed toward the front entry, exiting through the threshold without a single word or glance back.
The dishes rose above the table, vanishing before my eyes.
I caught the contents of my dish just before the plate disappeared into the strange vacuum.
Then the translucent female form turned to air with everything else, leaving me alone and cold in the living area with a random shroom loaf clutched to my chest.
Silence.
Stillness.
Nothing.
Not even a breath—because I’d stopped inhaling and exhaling.
How had everything gone so wrong in one day? I stared down at the food in my hands.
Tomorrow would hopefully provide new opportunities.
Or possibly be a whole lot worse.
Yeah, probably that.
Chapter Eight
Aflora
“I have a supply list,” Zephyrus said as we left Kolstov’s suite the following evening. The Midnight Prince was nowhere in sight, and I suspected I wouldn’t be seeing him again until next week.
Assuming I’m still here. I sighed, shaking my head. Who am I kidding? Of course I’ll be here.
The Earth Fae relied on me to uphold the connection to the earth source, which meant blocking any and all dangers. Including myself. And I couldn’t deny that the potential binding of my abilities to Shade jeopardized my ability to lead.
What if he can access my elemental gifts? I wondered, following Zephyrus down the stairs. “Does my collar keep Shade from tapping into my earth source?” I asked out loud. “Or is he wearing one, too?” The thought of that actually had my lips twitching. Oh, I really hope they collared him…
Zephyrus paused to glare at me. “Were you over there daydreaming while I’ve been speaking?”
I grimaced. He had been talking. And, uh, yeah, I’d not heard a word of it after his supply list comment.
The look he gave me confirmed that the answer was written across my face and he didn’t approve. His hand wrapped around my throat, his opposite palm going to my hip, as he pushed me up against the wall. My feet awkwardly found purchase on one stair, holding me upright while he captured my gaze with a lethal stare.
“When I speak, you listen. Understand?”
I swallowed. He stood over a foot taller than me, just like Kolstov. And Zephyrus also possessed the muscles of a man who had spent most of his life hardening his exterior.
Warrior Blood, I recalled from our earlier conversation. While I didn’t know the complete definition, I could garner the importance of that distinction. Along with his comments about being a Guardian.
My Guardian.
This was not a male to piss off, and yet… “Do you manhandle all your students in this manner?” I asked him, tilting my head to the side.
His chest crowded mine, and his thighs—holy crap, those thighs!—pressed me harder into the wall. “I don’t know. I haven’t started my new job yet. Ask me again next week.”
“You’re a new professor?”
“Headmaster,” he corrected. “And yes, it’s a recently assigned post.” His tone held a note of bitterness to it.
“What was your previous post?”
“Why are you so chatty today?” His grip tightened around my neck. “I think I preferred your moping from last night.”
“I was not moping,” I gritted out, my eyes narrowing. “Let me go.”
“Make me.”
“This is not proper behavior for a professor.”
“Headmaster,” he corrected again. “And I haven’t technically started yet. Right now, I’m just your Guardian. Which means you’ll do whatever I tell you to do, whenever I tell you to do it.”
“And you make that point by strangling me?”
His lips curled into a cruel smile. “Trust me, this is nothing compared
to what I can do.”
I believed him. Yet, for whatever reason, I didn’t fear him. His callous exterior presented an ominous front, his cold green eyes just as harsh as the rest of him, but my instincts told me to push back.
“I might be weaker with this cuff around my neck, but I’m still a Royal Fae. That said, I apologize for daydreaming. I was thinking about how my bloodline is tied to Shade and wondered if that means he can access my gifts, too. If he can tap into the earth source, I have much larger problems than buying books or school uniforms.” Which I guessed was part of his list.
A glimmer of respect brightened his emerald orbs. He released me and stepped back, his cloak billowing around his ankles. The lapels were laced with green ink that sparkled beneath the firelight. I studied them, wondering what they meant, when Zephyrus turned on his heel and continued down the stairs.
“The collar around your neck should prevent him from accessing your elemental gifts. It acts as a door, and when it’s clasped, that door is shut and blocks your soul from accessing the elements. Which means Shade is also locked out.” He reached the bottom level and glanced up at me. “Satisfied?”
“Now you’re starting to sound more like a professor,” I quipped, giving him a smile. “Thank you, Headmaster.”
His pupils flared, heat momentarily sparking in the emerald depths. “Hmm” was all he said before turning again and leading the way outside.
Rather than lead the way toward the main gates, he took a left that directed us into the heart of the campus. Fire flickered on lampposts, gently lighting the charcoal-stoned paths. Obsidian bricks and other types of rock provided the foundation for the buildings, and gothic arches and stained glass lent the scene a palatial appeal that I had to admit was quite pretty.
Burning thwomps and other foreign plants graced the grounds, including black flowers that reminded me of roses and a series of purple-laced ivy that glowed with fiery bugs.
I bent to get a better look, only to be yanked back by Zephyrus. “Don’t.”
“Why?” I asked, studying the buzzing insects. “They remind me of pixies.”
“Fire gnats are disgusting little jackasses who bite. Don’t provoke them.” Zephyrus released me. “Our wildlife isn’t like yours. We coexist because we have to, not because we want to. So trust me, you do not want to touch anything in this realm. Especially not those.”