by Bailey Dark
But Verity isn’t mine yet. But I know I can’t pressure her. She must choose to bind herself to me of her own free will. I can only hope that she realizes the key to breaking the curse has nothing to do with potions and spells and everything to do with the covenant of our blood.
I stare out over Desmarais, the beautiful city of glass. The pink light of the rising sun reflects vibrantly off of the rooftops and the sea in the distance. It’s alight with a warm glow, the kind of view that sets your heart on fire. I don’t want to leave Desmarais. I don’t want my legacy to be that I let all of Alnembra suffer because of the rash words of a young Fae.
I was up all night thinking of Verity. I came to this tower to get a glimpse of my land and my kingdom, hoping it would clear my head. But now all I can think is that I want to share this view with Verity. I want to share my city with her. But until she’s safe from Maaz, I can’t. I stretch out my claws as my thoughts tray to Maaz.
As I think of Maaz, the view of my city just becomes another scene in the background. I remember the first time I saw her. She swept past me on her deadwood broom, straight to the doors of the palace and demanded an audience with my father. I don’t know what passed between them, but Maaz left in a fury and my mother kept me inside for almost a week. It drove me mad. But then I put Maaz from my thoughts and I never thought of her again until nine hundred and ninety-nine years ago when she made another appearance.
I clench my jaw irately as I picture the moment she doomed me and my people. A simple request, she had said. Grant it to me, King. Marry me. Marry me and join our bloodlines. We’ll have the most powerful children the world has ever known. And when I refused her, she cursed me. With fury in her eyes she cursed me to this existence.
I can feel the rage swelling in my chest, coursing through my veins as I remember the torture Maaz has inflicted on me. My claws dig into the stone, scratching white marks across the dark floor. I consider leaping off of the parapet and flying to Maaz’s stronghold in the mountains. But if I do that, the curse takes immediate effect and I lose everything I’ve worked to save these last thousand years.
Suddenly, I hear Verity’s musical laughter echo towards me. I blink, surprised. The anger fades away when I hear her laugh again. I peer over the edge of the tower and see her in the gardens. Like a miniature version of herself, she seems so small from up here. I watch as she walks with one of the soldiers I assigned to guard her. He speaks, though I can’t make out the words. Verity places a hand on his elbow as she giggles in response.
Instantly, my blood is on fire in my veins. My vision tunnels to her hand, touching him, and all I hear is her laughter echoing round and round in my head. Without thinking, I launch myself from the tower and swoop towards them. The soldier hears me coming before Verity, and he steps away to a discrete distance. I glide over them, claws out, and hear Verity yelp as she ducks.
When I land, I turn a cold gaze towards the soldier. “Take a walk,” I snarl, eyes flashing.
He dips into a bow before jogging away, his armor clanking. Verity approaches, her lips pursed. “What was that about?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
I stare at her hands, partially hidden in the folds of her arm. The hands that touched another man. “I could ask you the same thing,” I say quietly, pacing around her.
“What are you talking about?” She sighs exasperatedly. “I was talking a walk in the gardens, but a guard came with me. I was fine.”
“You certainly looked more than fine from where I was standing.” I circle her, my hazel eyes raking over her body.
She turns in a slow circle, always facing me as I pace. Her cheeks color, which only sends more thoughts of envy through my mind. “That was nothing. Is that what this is about?”
“It didn’t look like nothing,” I growl, closing in on her. “I saw you touch him. Heard you laughing.”
“He’s nice, I was talking to him,” Verity snaps. She backs up against a tree, her eyes wide as I approach.
“Just talking?” I ask softly. I nudge her hand with my nose. I can smell him on her. “Don’t let anyone touch you except for me.”
I hear her heart racing as my eyes drift over her body. “Why?” She whispers.
I growl quietly. I want to roar that she’s mine, but I know Verity well enough to know that she wouldn’t take kindly to such possession. But the jealousy is still coursing through me, particularly as his scent permeates the air between us. It was only a single touch, but it was enough.
Fae men are territorial when they fall in love. It can’t be avoided and despite our wisdom, we’ve never managed to overcome it. I meet her gaze and stare resolutely at her. “I don’t know if I can trust even my own men,” I say finally.
She raises a brow suspiciously. “Alright.”
“Good,” I sigh, taking a step back. The tension has eased somewhat, but I know I won’t ever be able to get this out of my mind.
“Can I go now?” She asks, pushing away from the tree and stepping around me.
“Go,” I manage to say, even though every cell in my body is straining against the words. Stay. Stay. Stay.
But she leaves. Across the lawn, she glances at me over her shoulder. I imagine I see a flicker of a smile on her lips before she disappears into the castle. I run my tongue over my teeth and dig my claws into the dirt before I throw myself into the sky. It takes only a moment to find the man who touched her as I follow his scent around the castle grounds.
I find him in the courtyard of the barracks, beside Navi. I land heavily beside him, not bothering to slow to avoid colliding with anyone. He doesn’t appear surprised to see me. I stare at him, marking that my paw is the same size as his face. How easily I could crush him, even with all that armor.
Navi glances between the two of us but doesn’t interrupt. The soldier salutes me, snapping his spear to his side. “Your Grace,” he barks.
“Don’t ever touch her again,” I growl. “If you touch her, I will tear the offending limb from your body without a second thought.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the soldier says, his eyes boring holes into the wall.
I snap my teeth at him, enjoying the way his face pales. “Leave.” The soldier obeys without another word and I turn to Navi. “I want him reassigned. Latrine duty or something equally unpleasant.”
She stares at me, amusement twinkling in her green eyes. “I’ll assign him to the boardwalk.”
The boardwalk is a small quarter of Desmarais, the eastern docks. It’s a cesspool of crime and the heart of Desmarais’ underground. Navi has been trying to clear it out for much of her time as the Captain of the Guard, though with little success. Verity will never see that soldier if he’s stationed there.
“Good,” I concede.
Navi grows serious. “I’ve found no evidence of the spy, Altair.”
“None?” I narrow my eyes. “Keep looking. If you must, have your most trusted men and women question everyone in the palace.”
“I will, but I doubt we’ll find anything.” Her fingers wrap around the hilt of her blade tightly.
“Why not?” I ask.
“I haven’t found anything of use yet, and I fear that the spy may have already left or is much more well hidden than I thought. We can’t trust anyone. Not even Verity,” she says slowly, carefully.
I scoff. “Verity? You truly think Verity might be the spy? That she may have organized her own kidnapping?”
“Perhaps.” Navi shrugs. “We know little of her. It’s only a theory, I will keep searching.”
“Do. And Navi?” I flick my tail in irritation. “No unclaimed men or women in Verity’s personal guard.”
Navi cocks a brow and smirks. “Really, Altair? Don’t you find that extreme?”
“No,” I growl. “I truly don’t.”
Before Navi can reply, I leap onto the roof of the barracks and then into the air. I spread my wings and catch myself, soaring along the currents of the wind into the sky. Navi’s words echo on my
head as I fly across the palace grounds. I huff, I’m not being extreme. But it would be best if Verity doesn’t know why I made rearrangements to her personal guard.
I find myself drifting towards the library, where I know she’ll be. As I glide past, I see her, searching through a stack of books by the window. She glances up as my shadow falls over her. My heart lurches as our eyes meet, but soon she’s out of my sight as I follow the curve of the castle walls.
These feelings are new to me. I’ve never felt this sort of possessiveness, I scoffed at the Fae who acted this way. But now, I understand all too well. I don’t want to lose the warmth and light that I feel when I see Verity. I want that light only on me. Though I’m not sure that she feels the same way, and the thought is devastating to me. Sighing, I make another round around the castle—hoping for another glimpse of her.
I hope that soon she will crave me as much as I crave her. I hope that she will bind herself to me before it’s too late.
Chapter 18
Verity
I waddle away from the castle door and towards an unoccupied part of the lawn with the cauldron in my arms. It’s heavy; iron, I’m guessing. My muscles are screaming as I carry it, wishing one of the Fae in my guard would be willing to help. But the Fae have sworn off magic, and they don’t appear too keen on my practice.
With a grunt, I heave the cauldron onto the ground, careful not to crush my fingers. I catch my breath, hands on my hips, before turning back to the castle. I need to gather the ingredients for the potion I’m making. A potion of unbinding, I thought perhaps it could unbind Altair from the curse. I jog up the castle steps, catching a glimpse of Altair’s wings disappearing over the gable.
I grin to myself as I tread down the halls. Altair has spent the day watching me, I wonder if he thinks he’s being discrete. I saw him every time he passed the library window, his eyes locked onto me. I’ve never met a man as territorial as Altair, but there’s something particularly animalistic about it. And something very appealing.
In the kitchen pantry, I run over the list of ingredients I need. “Powder of the titan arum, white baneberry, and root of ginseng,” I mutter aloud as I study the shelves.
I pluck what I need and head back outside, ignoring the cold looks of the Fae. Magic of any kind, Bloodbane or not, is frowned upon here. I imagine it was different before the Bloodbane grew so powerful and cursed Altair. But I ignore their stares as I kneel beside the cauldron. Discouraged or not, I need to do all I can to save Altair.
I light a fire beneath the cauldron, grimacing as the flames burn the nearby grass. I pour water into the cauldron and wait patiently for it to boil. In an iron pot above a fire, it takes longer than it would at home. I sigh, staring into the cauldron. I can feel Altair’s eyes on me. I glance up and see him perched on the gabled rooftop. I stick my tongue out at him and turn back to my cauldron; it’s boiling.
Quickly I measure out a bit of titan arum powder, a red substance, and pour it into the boiling water. A puff of red smoke erupts from the pot, I wave it away, coughing. As the powder dissolves in the hot water, I grind the baneberry into mush. It can only be done immediately before I put them in the potion, or they lose their potency. Or so the text says.
The mush of the berries plops into the red potion and it turns a royal purple. Satisfied with my progress so far, I grin. Who would have thought that a librarian from New York City would be brewing potions outside a Fae king’s castle? After letting it stew for a few minutes, I add the last ingredient.
The potion bubbles and a sickly-sweet smell floats upwards. My grin falls away as the overly sweet scent chokes my lungs. The sun is setting as I pull the cauldron from the flames and pour its contents into a glass bottle. I cap it and put it carefully in my pocket. The potion is still hot, warm enough that I can feel it against my leg. I pour the rest of the water onto the dwindling fire.
The grass beneath the charred wood is black, and likely dead. I grimace apologetically at the Fae nearby. Hoisting the warm cauldron into my arms, I struggle to carry it back into the castle. Suddenly, Altair appears by my side. He slips the cauldron from my arms without a word and falls into step beside me. I eye him, taking in his strong figure, dressed in simple black clothes. The vest he wears over his tunic is tailored to him well, showing the leanness of his strong frame.
I bite my bottom lip, hiding the tendril of excitement I feel when he’s beside me. Altair’s arm grazes against me heat blossoms through me. “What potion did you brew today?” He asks, his voice calm and strong.
“A potion of unbinding. I’m not sure how it will taste,” I warn him as we enter the kitchens.
The cooks look up from dressing the dinner, but Altair gestures for them to continue. “I’ll wash it down with a large glass of wine,” he says, flashing me a grin.
I watch as he rinses the cauldron in the stone sink and sets it aside. He’s more thoughtful than I realized. “And does the King often do dishes?” I ask, arching a brow.
“That depends, how appealing do you find it?” He counters.
“Very,” I purr. Before he can answer, I take the stairs two at a time, leaving him at the landing. I call over my shoulder, “I’ll meet you for dinner.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he says, chuckling.
I can feel his eyes watching me as I round the corner and disappear from view. Tingles slip down my spine and I suppress a shiver. Whenever I feel his eyes on me it’s as if I’m back in that armchair, breathless and filled with cravings.
In my room, I strip quickly; carefully setting the potion aside. I already picked out a gown for dinner, a sea blue dress with long, sheer sleeves. I slip into it, easily buttoning myself in as the back is bare. I study myself in the mirror and brush my hair back self-consciously. This will have to do.
Grabbing the potion, I go to our private dining hall to join him. My stomach is in knots that I can’t explain as I push open the door. Altair is already there, standing beside the fireplace. He turns as the door creaks, and his lips split into a smile. A real, genuine, and tender smile. My heart pounds faster.
“Shall we start dinner off with a bang?” He asks, pulling my chair out for me.
“What?” I gape, cheeks coloring.
His brows furrow. “The potion. Shall I have it now?”
“Oh.” I close my eyes and silently berate myself for having my mind in the gutter. But Altair does that to me sometimes. “Here, try it.”
He plucks the glass bottle from my hands and moves around the table. This time, he’s moved the flowers from between us. Now I have nothing to hide behind. I pour myself a glass of wine as he uncorks the bottle. He stares into the potion and then quirks a brow. “Wish me luck.”
As Altair downs the potion, his brows furrow with disgust. But he drinks it all, his throat bobbing with each gulp. I bite my lip as he lowers the bottle from his lips and pinches his face. A part of me didn’t think he would actually drink the potion I brewed. I thought he would scoff at me like the other Fae. Altair slams the bottle onto the table, grimacing.
“Wine,” he croaks.
I pass him my glass hastily and he chugs it, eyes clenched tightly closed. “Are you okay?” I ask, worry and fear forcing my voice to a higher pitch.
He coughs, returning my glass. “Fine,” he finally manages to say. He stares at the glass bottle and shudders. “What was that?”
I list off the ingredients. “If it works, your eyes will change color.”
“Care to check?” He asks, pushing the glass bottle aside as if it’s poison.
“You don’t sound too convinced,” I say, moving around the table until I’m directly in front of him.
“Shall I stand? Or sit?” He asks.
“Sit.” I bend down and peer into his eyes, our faces only inches apart.
His breath wafts over my face, smelling faintly of wine and berries. “You’re working hard, Verity. But perhaps the solution is simpler than you think,” he murmurs.
“Simpler?” I ec
ho softly. His eyes are hazel, just as they were before. But still, I don’t want to move away from him. If anything, I want to close the distance between us and kiss him fiercely. But I hold back, hovering over his lips.
“I can’t tell you anything more than that,” he says softly. “But perhaps the witches who kidnapped you had more to say, if you can remember.”
“I’ll try,” I breathe, searching his dilated eyes.
“Verity,” he murmurs, a hoarse edge to his voice. “Do you intend to hover over me all night? I can think of other ways we could spend our time if you enjoy being on top.”
I blush and lurch away from him, heart pounding. “I’m sure you could,” I quip.
His tongue runs over his lips and he takes a deep, shuddering breath as I return to my seat. “You really shouldn’t tempt me, Verity.”
“Tempt you?” I arch a brow as our food is brought to us.
His hazel eyes rake over me. “Fae men can be quite feral.”
My eyes widen, a thrill coursing through me. “Duly noted,” I murmur.
We lapse into silence, only the sound of cutlery against the porcelain plates and the crackling of the fire fill the air. I steal glances of Altair from time to time, when I dare. But he’s always looking back at me. Looking at me with intensity that sends my heart racing wildly and my mind spiraling. I shake my head. I hated Altair, hated him from the moment I met him. Things changed quickly for me.
“So,” I say, breaking the silence. “What did you today besides spy on me?”
His eyes flash, a smile playing across his lips. “Unfortunately, that took up almost all of my time.”
“I would have thought a King had more to do than that,” I say.
“A King of a dying kingdom?” He quirks a brow, but I don’t miss the sorrow in his eyes. “Not quite.”
“Do you miss it?” I ask, lowering my voice. “Ruling and planning for the future like you did before the curse?”
Altair sighs through his nose and downs his glass of wing. “I miss it every day.”