To Wear a Fae Crown (The Fair Isle Trilogy Book 2)

by Tessonja Odette

  What’s happened since. Flames and smoke fill my mind, and the image of my mother falling from an iron bullet. Sorrow washes over me, threatening to drag me into a black void of endless grief. The feeling is so terrifying, I reach for my quickest defense—my fire. Anger ignites, but instead of fueling me, it increases the sharpness of my wounds. I cry out in pain, my legs collapsing beneath me.

  Aspen catches me before my head goes beneath the surface of the water. He pulls me close, hand on my cheek as he tilts my head toward his. “Just focus on me right now.”

  I breathe away my pain, my anger, and focus on his face, the color of his eyes, the angle of his jaw. Facts. Shapes. Logic. It settles me.

  “There will be time to grieve and rage after your body is healed,” he says.

  Once the strength returns to my legs, I pull away from him, but only slightly. This time, he reaches for the buttons of my blouse himself. I shudder as the fabric falls away, then I reach down to slip off my tattered trousers. He brings the moon moss toward me, but I shake my head. “You too.”

  With a grumble, he allows me to pull the scorched linen off his chest, separate it from the burns on his back. My stomach roils as I examine the full extent of the damage I’ve caused.

  Freed from our clothing, I finally allow Aspen to tend to the burns on my torso. I keep my eyes locked on his, emptying my mind of the terrors that lurk behind every thought, every breath. When all traces of stinging pain leave my chest, Aspen hands me the moss and turns his back to me.

  I have to extend my arms to reach the top of his shoulders, but I’m relieved to see the immediate effects of the moss and water taking place. His skin seems to repair even faster than mine, which I’m assuming must have to do with his heritage. Being the son of Queen Melusine gives him an advantage over the water element.

  I watch as the charred skin falls away, revealing new pink skin in its place. His golden coloring has yet to emerge, but his healing is promising. Blisters shrink and dissolve, returning the smooth planes of his back, the strong angles of his shoulder blades. A tender feeling stirs inside me, breaking through the chaos that I’m somehow able to keep at bay. Even after Aspen’s skin has fully healed, I linger over him, letting my hands trail up and down his back as I study the curve of his spine, the muscles in his arms and shoulders. The silence of our bated breaths speaks louder than any words we can say.

  Aspen shudders at my final touch before turning to face me, hand moving to the back of my neck. With gentle fingers, he pulls my damp hair over one shoulder, a wordless signal for me to turn around. As I do, he takes the moss and brings it to my back. With my pains nearly gone, every touch feels like a welcome caress.

  My mind begins to wander to the dangerous territory of blood and fire, and I quickly force myself to focus on Aspen’s touch. But a memory remains, one neutral enough for me to consider without much harm. I break the silence around us. “When I was burning, I remember you telling me to take it to the Twelfth Court. What did you mean by that?”

  Aspen runs the moss over the back of my neck, my upper shoulders. “If you’d taken your rage to the Twelfth Court, you would have been able to more evenly distribute your fire, use it for transformative purposes.”

  His words do nothing to clear my confusion. “What does that mean?”

  “That’s how the fae shift into our unseelie forms. It’s one way, at least. Most of us can shift at will, but strong emotion or an overuse of our power can shift us without effort. Sometimes, that can be detrimental, but in your case, I think it would have helped.”

  “You really think I could have...shifted forms?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think so.”

  “How would it have helped? Would I not have felt the same rage?”

  “You would have been more in control of it on an instinctual level,” Aspen says. “You would have used most of your excess fire in the act of physically shifting. It takes magic to shift forms, and you had a dangerous amount to spare.”

  I furrow my brow, pondering Aspen’s words. Nyxia hadn’t told me this when I relayed my doubts about having the ability to shift. From how he describes it, it makes a sort of logical sense.

  If magic and logic can ever coexist, that is.

  The realization serves to relieve some of the darkness hanging over me. However, there’s still so much I know I need to face. That rage I felt on the journey here hasn’t diminished. The water is merely keeping it dormant. But now I’m starting to see how I can utilize it in a logical manner. Pieces of a puzzle fall into place before me, and only a blush of anger comes with it.

  I return my attention to the feel of Aspen’s fingers, the silky moss against my now-soothed skin. Turning my head slightly to the side, I catch Aspen’s eyes from my periphery. “You were right,” I say.

  He pauses his ministrations, then runs the moss down my spine. “About what?”

  “The treaty being a broken thing not worth saving. You were right all along.”

  “I don’t revel in being right about this. I never wanted any of that to happen.”

  I turn to fully face him, shutting out violent images in my mind and replacing them with firm, rational facts. “It has to end,” I say. “The treaty, the Reaping, and both councils. I have to take the throne from King Ustrin.”

  His jaw shifts back and forth, and I remember how little he knows about the plan I tried to enact. “How long were you planning to do what you did at the trial?”

  Again, I have to skirt around my pain to seek the facts. “A few days. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Things were strange between us and I...I couldn’t bear the pressure of your hope or mine.”

  He releases the moss, letting it float away on the surface of the water. “I wish you would have told me. I could have supported you better, long before the trial.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t deal with regrets right now. All I can focus on is what to do next.”

  He brings a hand to my cheek, moving closer to me until my breasts are a breath away from brushing his chest. I ache to pull him against me as his thumb caresses my jawline. “What will you do?”

  “Whatever it takes to make things right,” I say. “Not just for one people but for all of them. The fae, both seelie and unseelie. The humans.”

  His expression brightens, and I realize it’s the first time he’s heard me voice such care for the fae. Perhaps it’s the first time I’ve admitted it out loud. “You’re going to stay?”

  I bring one hand to his hip, the other slides up his torso to rest over his beating heart. I tip my head back and lock our eyes. “I’m staying. Faerwyvae is my home. The Fire Court is my throne. And you are my mate.”

  He brings his lips to mine and I eagerly receive them, the heat we had to abandon in the alley returning at full force. But before we fall too deep, there are words I need to say. Words I’m no longer willing to hold onto. With so much that can still go wrong, I can no longer keep it to myself.

  I separate my lips from his, but our foreheads remain touching. He sinks low into the water, and I wrap my arms around his neck until only our heads are above the surface. I pull away to take in the autumn colors swimming in his hungry eyes. “Aspen, I love you.”

  He trembles against me, then brushes his lips lightly against mine. Silence stretches between us, and for one terrifying moment I fear I’ve said the wrong thing. Do the fae even exchange sentiments of love? Then his lips pull into a smile. Not the smirk I adore, or the seductive grin that makes my knees weak. A pure, authentic smile. “I love you too, Evie.”

  When our kisses return, they are gentler, softer. His tongue caresses mine as a burning need hums at my core. I run my hands through his hair, eliciting a deep moan from him as I bring my fingers to dance along the beam of an antler. He tenses against me. One of his hands grips my bottom while the other explores the crest of my breast. Our breathing rises in tandem, a furious melody playing the tune of our growing desire. I feel weightless as he lifts me off my feet, pulling me close
until my hips are pressed against his.

  My core burns to deepen the connection, to move further into my passion. I let it rise to illuminate my entire being. I’m glowing with the need to feel every part of him.

  That’s when I realize I really am glowing. Like the night of the full moon revel, a violet haze has clouded my vision. Even though I can feel this glow radiating from my inner fire, this kind isn’t painful like the one caused by my blazing rage. This one is gentle, glittering, and pleasurable unlike anything has ever been before.

  Aspen whispers my name, and I whisper his in turn. Beneath the light of the rising sun shining from the domed ceiling overhead, we move to the tune of our love.

  33

  Hazy sunlight brushes my eyelids, and the smell of rosemary and cinnamon floods my senses. I open my eyes to find Aspen sleeping next to me. His face is slack, head turned slightly to the side as his antlers hang over the back of his mattress. We’re in his bedroom, where the bed is in the middle of the room to accommodate his extra assets.

  Speaking of extra assets.

  I find my leg is sprawled over his hips, bringing to mind our early morning passions, the moon baths, the way he carried me to his room for us to sleep. Or try to sleep for several hours until we finally fell into a heap of exhaustion. It must be midafternoon by now.

  I extract an arm from beneath his and bring my fingers to his face. Brushing his golden skin, I drink in the sight of him, so youthful and beautiful in slumber. He stirs at my touch, eyes opening to find mine. The smile that greets me makes my heart flip.

  “We managed to sleep in a proper bed for once,” he says.

  “We did.”

  He moves closer to me, bringing a hand to my lower back. “Was it better than it was when you visited me in your dreams?”

  “It was. In those moments, there’s a discrepancy in physical sensation. Is it the same for you?”

  His brow wrinkles as he considers. “Yes, I think you’re right. That didn’t stop me from enjoying it though. I wished so badly that you’d really been there that first night.”

  His words send a flicker of pain inside me. “I did too.”

  “And in the dining room at Bircharbor. That’s when I knew the visions were more than fantasy. You appeared out of nowhere while I was wide awake.” He lets out a light laugh. “You should have seen the terror on that fool girl’s face when I roared at her and ordered her back to her room. She hadn’t the slightest idea she’d just interrupted a much-desired kiss.”

  “That kiss was everything I wanted,” I say. “Although, at that point, I still thought I was dreaming. In fact, I thought I was having a nightmare, certain that any moment the dream would shift into something I wouldn’t want to see. It wasn’t until you came to Lunar that I realized those visions had been real.” My heart sinks, the words I omitted screaming in my mind. It wasn’t until you caught me kissing Franco. Now that we’ve fully reunited, I feel like my apology to him in the alley could have been better.

  He moves his hand to my face. “You were right, Evie. You don’t owe me an explanation and you are not my property. You are my mate. You are free to seek pleasure with whomever—”

  I sit upright, cheeks blazing with indignation. “I only want you, Aspen. You damn well better know that.”

  Amusement shines in his eyes as he props himself up on his elbows. He quirks a brow. “Only me?”

  “Yes. I’m like Lorelei. Monogamous, that is. This is not...this isn’t a Nyxia at Beltane situation.” Blood drains from my face as I consider something I never have before. Not all fae love the same way I’m used to. Does he love the way I need to be loved? “Wait, do you prefer...taking other lovers?”

  A smirk pulls at his lips and I want to slap it off his face. Or kiss it off. No, definitely slap. “I feel the same as you,” he finally says, his smirk shifting back to a genuine smile. “It’s just us, Evie. You’re all I want.”

  I let out a shaking breath, posture relaxing as I let him pull me to his chest. His heart beats against my ear as his breath stirs my hair.

  “You’re all I love.”

  My heart skips a beat, and I lift my eyes to meet his. Love. It’s still so new to me, both the feeling and the word. It feels fragile and precious and terrifying all at once. With a soft brush of our lips, we seal our unspoken vow with a kiss.

  It’s almost painful to separate and force ourselves out of bed, but the outside world doesn’t stop to cater to my stolen moments of peace. There’s still much to attend to. The humans will want retribution for my escape. King Ustrin will want revenge.

  And I have a throne to claim.

  I return to my room, my body aching with every step—a combination of my leftover strain from the journey and the exhaustion of pleasure. Once dressed, I go to find Lorelei.

  She opens her bedroom door and wastes not a moment before throwing her arms around me. “I heard you returned last night, and not in the best state. I was terrified for you.”

  We pull away, and she looks me over. “I’m all right, I promise. Aspen took care of me.”

  She raises a brow. “You actually let someone else take care of you for once?”

  I roll my eyes. “I know, I know.”

  Her expression turns serious. “How did it go?”

  A shard of glass pierces my heart as an iron bullet shoots through my memory, followed by blood and smoke. Sorrow drags at me, and I feel like I’m being buried beneath mounds of stone. It’s so painful, I can hardly breathe, can hardly stand—

  I seek my inner fire, transforming my sorrow into rage. This time, the fire doesn’t sear me. Instead, it clears my head, my heart, returns my composure.

  Tears swim in Lorelei’s eyes. Her words are a gentle whisper. “You don’t have to say anything. Not until you’re ready.”

  I steel myself and let out a heavy sigh.

  “What happens next?” she asks.

  “I must meet with the fire fae again to secure their support in claiming Unseelie Queen of Fire.”

  She bites a corner of her lip. “I won’t pressure you to say more than you are ready for, but can I ask...did the humans agree to change the treaty?”

  I force the darkness away, keeping my mind trained on facts alone. “No.”

  “Then you know claiming rule in Faerwyvae will officially break the treaty, right?”

  I square my shoulders. “I’m ready to break it.”

  Her eyes widen, lips pulling into a sad smile.

  “However, the bargain I made with King Ustrin keeps war at bay for now,” I say. “A fight between the fae council and the rebels will come to pass, but in the meantime, they can do nothing. I think we should use this time to come up with a solid plan.”

  “Let’s do this,” she says with a nod. “Have you told Queen Nyxia?”

  “No, but I need to speak with her. I want to meet with the fire fae tonight.”

  She’s already moving to the door. “Then let’s find her.”

  We head toward the throne room, plans and ideas buzzing through my head. One question plagues me again and again. I turn to Lorelei. “When I do face King Ustrin, must I make a formal challenge for the throne like Aspen did with Cobalt?”

  She shakes her head. “No, those formalities were created by the Council of Eleven Courts. Once the treaty is broken, the rules of the council need no longer apply. With the rebels already claiming a return to the Old Ways, it will be in accordance with the Twelfth Court that you will face him.”

  “How does it work, exactly?”

  She shrugs. “You need to prove you are the alpha blessed by the All of All.”

  “You say it like it’s simple, but I don’t understand how that comes to be. Do I engage him in physical combat? Will it be a fight to the death?” My stomach turns at the thought. There’s no way I can beat King Ustrin in physical combat. If only I had an iron blade...

  “It’s impossible to know ahead of time,” Lorelei says. “Sometimes it’s simply a matter of facing each oth
er in the Twelfth Court, like you did as Aspen’s champion. The win may still be shown with a token, like the crown you were given. Other times it’s won by submission to the alpha, like with Nyxia and her mother. But yes, there are times when only death can decide the victor. In those cases, the All of All gives their champion strength.”

  My heart races. It sounds impossible no matter how she puts it. Luckily, my bargain with King Ustrin will give me enough time to prepare.

  We are almost at the doors to the throne room when the sound of commotion draws my attention.

  Lorelei and I exchange a glance before we take off down the corridor toward the noise. Once we reach the entry hall to the palace, we find dozens of bedraggled fae streaming inside, two of which are Foxglove and Franco. Lorelei runs to Foxglove while Franco offers me a tired wink. Both seem flustered but none the worse for wear. The fae surrounding them, however, look as if they just returned from battle. Their clothing is stained and torn. Those who have hair wear it disheveled, and those with fur appear matted. My heart leaps in my throat when I recognize a figure.

  “Gildmar!”

  The old fae’s bark-like face stretches into a relieved grin as I approach her. “You’re here,” she says.

  “Yes, but what are you doing here?”

  She extends her arms toward her fellows. “We are who remain of King Aspen’s most loyal household. Not everyone chose to come.” Her lips twitch into a frown. “And not all made the escape.”

  My heart sinks at that. I return my attention to the fae continuing to file inside, finding another familiar face—one of Aspen’s handsome servants, Vane. The next figure is even more surprising.

  Marie Coleman meets my eyes, face crumpling as she rushes to me. The girl wraps her arms around my waist and sobs into my shoulder.

  I almost forget how to move. What in the name of iron is Maddie Coleman’s little sister doing here?

  “Oh, Evelyn, I can’t believe I made it. I thought I was going to die.”