by Sofia Daniel
My smile froze. What would the princes say when they discovered I had also mated with Pokeweed?
“Unity.” He drew me into his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“Before coming to you, I mated with the four princes.”
His expression didn’t change, so I guessed this wasn’t news to him. “Your love broke my curse, but that could never have happened if you hadn’t absorbed their powers.”
“You’re not upset?” I placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“Of course not.” He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “But you look terrified.”
“I’m not sure how things will work, now that I’m also mated to you.”
Pokeweed gave me an understanding nod. “In a battle of mating supremacy, the stronger faerie wins.” Before I could utter a word, he said, “If they were happy to share you with three brothers, a fourth won’t make much of a difference.”
I bit down on my lip, wondering if the princes would agree with Pokeweed’s logic. This new, handsome version of Pokeweed seemed infinitely more confident than before, and he didn’t look like he would take any shit.
McVittie’s voice echoed as tiny footsteps bounded up the stairs. “Right, then. I have another plan.” He entered the room, took one look at me sitting on Pokeweed’s lap, and skittered back. “Your Majesty! This humble cat didn’t mean to intrude.”
Pokeweed ran a hand through his golden hair. “Come back, McVittie, it’s me.”
The cat poked his head through the door. “Me, who, Your Majesty?”
“This is Pokeweed,” I said.
McVittie took a tentative step into the room. It was the kind of action some cats made when they entered the realm of a stray dog. His yellow eyes rounded, and his little paws trembled as they hit the wooden floor.
“Is that really you?” he asked.
“It looks like there’s another heir to the throne.” I ran a hand down Pokeweed’s huge pec and stared into a face even more handsome than the king’s.
“Well done, Unity,” McVittie said with a chuckle. “I knew you hadn’t given up on the wishbone.” He sat on his haunches and gave me a wink.
For the next hour, we talked about what to do next about this new revelation and tried to guess the identity of Pokeweed’s poisoner. McVittie thought it would be the Duke of Nevermore, still furious with his wife for mating with an unknown male and birthing Pokeweed. But the more we talked about it, the more we believed that the queen had sent the assassin.
“If the Duke of Nevermore murders the king, the next in line for the throne is you,” said McVittie.
“I won’t let that happen,” he said.
“Why not?” The cat swished his tail on the mattress. “King Oberon got your mother pregnant and left you to live a servant’s life.”
Pokeweed’s lips tightened, but he didn’t reply. Perhaps it was because McVittie had understated the torment of a lifetime of being reviled.
I wrapped my arms around Pokeweed’s neck. “Saving the king might be his only chance to connect with his last living parent.”
McVittie muttered something about sentimental bipeds, jumped down from the bed, and walked out of the room with his tail pointing to the ceiling.
“You’ll have to be careful of Queen Titania,” he said. “If she knows you’re not cursed, she might send someone after you.”
He shook his head. “I doubt that any of her minions have the power to land a curse that will stick.”
“Pokeweed—”
He silenced me with his lips and laid me back on the bed.
“What are you doing?” I stared into his sea-blue eyes.
Pokeweed’s face split into a mischievous grin. “Your heat might be over, but I still want to explore your body.”
A pleasant shudder ran down my spine and settled between my legs, and I let him lay me down on the mattress. Pokeweed straddled my body, balancing his weight on his forearms, and pressed a series of toe-curling kisses down my breasts. My core tingled with want, but the urgent heat had gone.
He ran his large, warm hands down my thigh, and I arched into his touch. Pokeweed took his time, kissing and licking every inch of my flesh until I became slick with desire.
Pokeweed’s thick fingers circled my opening, and one of them slipped inside. He paused. “Where’s your maidenhead?”
“What?” I raised my head, staring at the gorgeous faerie between my spread legs.
“It’s supposed to return immediately after a heat.” His fingers slid further into my pussy, stretching me open.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I arched my back and moaned. “Maybe my magic is keeping it open. With five mates to satisfy, there’s no way I’m only going into heat once every four years.”
His lips crashed onto my aching clit, and he pumped his fingers in and out of my core. Being a former human had its advantages. Unlike other faerie females, I looked forward to having sex every day.
Pokeweed made love to me the entire afternoon, only breaking for something to eat. It was strange having someone identical to King Oberon fetch me drinks and snacks, but by sunset, the idea of having five mates filled me with excitement. I only hoped the princes wouldn’t feel betrayed.
At nightfall, we walked to the weeping willow and knelt at the edge of the pond. The frogs had left their lily pads, and the water was still enough to form a clear reflection.
“I can’t believe the likeness.” Pokeweed touched his face with trembling hands.
“Are you happy?” I asked.
He tilted his head to the side. “For my entire life, I wanted to be like other faeries. Sometimes, I would imagine how I would look underneath the fur, but I couldn’t picture anything like this.”
“Maybe the curse stopped you from looking at yourself too closely. I always knew you were handsome under the fur.” I wrapped an arm around his broad back.
He chuckled. “It’s strange that the moment I accepted my old appearance, it vanished, replacing it with something new.”
“What do you mean?” I smiled down at our reflections, marveling at how good we looked together. Pokeweed’s golden hair shone brighter than mine and picked up the light of the setting sun.
“Having you choose me last night instead of the princes proved that I could be worthy of your attention even with a cursed appearance.” Curving his lips into a smile, he waved his fingers over his hands and reverted to his old appearance. “I can’t tell you what it meant for me.”
Leaning into his side, I said, “I could stare at you all day, but the princes are waiting, and we’ll be late.”
Pokeweed placed a kiss on my temple and helped me up.
The sun had set entirely by the time we reached the edge of the meadow of oversized garlic flowers. A haze swept through the tall, straight saplings that made up the beginning of the forest. Harsh whispers carried in the air from the direction of a pair of kissing trees that twisted low to the ground.
“That must be where they’re waiting.” I curled my fingers around Pokeweed’s.
He nodded and squeezed my hands.
We passed the kissing trees and walked toward a thicket of beech trees covered in stringy lichen. The whispers became louder and more agitated.
“Rory nearly ruined everything by shooting Gala filthy looks,” hissed Prince Caulden.
Pokeweed and I exchanged glances and hurried through the trees to a clearing. Prince Bradwell stood between Princes Caulden and Rory, placing his palms on their shoulders as though to separate the pair. Prince August stood to one side and glanced from side to side.
We paused, waiting to hear what they would say next.
Prince Rory folded his arms across his chest. “It was bad enough to have her steal Helenium’s magic to become my fated mate. I couldn’t stomach smiling at her when all I wanted to do was tear her apart.”
I bit down on my lip and whispered. “Do you think she suspected anything?”
Pokeweed shook his head. “If she had, Gala wouldn’t have let
them out of her sight.”
My brows drew together, and I was about to ask how he knew so much about Lady Gala, but then I remembered that they shared the same mother.
“Are you alright about this?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re plotting against your sister.”
Pokeweed pursed his lips. “We never had a sibling relationship, and she delighted in humiliating me at every opportunity.”
Like how we had first met. How many times had that spoiled brat tricked other girls into believing that Pokeweed was their fated mate? I looped my arm around his bicep and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “If it wasn’t for her mischief, we might never have met.”
The corner of his lips curled into a smile. “You were the only faerie who didn’t recoil.”
Prince Caulden paused. “Can you feel that power?”
His brothers went silent and stood back-to-back, ready for an attack.
“Let’s go.” I glanced up at Pokeweed, who straightened.
As Pokeweed and I walked into the clearing, they turned in our direction. Each of their faces softened, and my heart skittered. How long would it take for them to notice the change in Pokeweed? He’d glamoured back his cursed appearance, but he still emanated more power than the princes.
Prince August’s brows drew together. “I thought you’d been poisoned.”
Despite the nerves trembling at the upcoming confession, my lips curved into a soft smile. “He broke the curse.”
Pokeweed smiled down at me. “You broke it.”
The four princes stilled. Since I wasn’t a healer, an expert in magic or a curse-breaking hag, they’d probably guessed how I had saved Pokeweed from his curse. Each of them turned to me with questioning eyes.
I swallowed, and the membranes of my throat stuck together. “My heat flared last night, and—”
“Pokeweed took advantage,” Prince Bradwell growled.
“No, it wasn’t like that,” I said. “He offered to fetch one of you, but I refused.”
Prince Caulden’s eyes softened. “Because you wanted to give him a moment of happiness before he died?”
“That’s the only reason I can fathom,” said Prince August with a sniff. “An act of kindness to a dying man that backfired, and now you’re saddled with a fifth mate.”
Prince Rory reached into his blazer and pulled out a short sword. “You don’t need a gardener when you have four princes.”
Pokeweed folded his arms across his chest, radiating the same quiet confidence he had shown the time he caught those guards pissing in the knucker bond. “Let Unity finish.”
“Your Highness,” Prince Rory growled.
The other princes placed their hands on sword hilts I hadn’t noticed until now. I huffed out a breath. I loved them, but they still hadn’t released their dickish ways.
Stepping toward the princes, I said, “You’re not going to hurt Pokeweed.”
“Because you pity him?” asked Prince Caulden.
A flare of annoyance rushed through my veins, and the next words burst from my lips. “Because I love him!”
All four princes deflated, their sword arms dropping.
“As a friend?” asked Prince August, hope lilting his voice.
“At first, but Pokeweed always kept me at a distance.” I crossed the clearing and stood before my four mates. “Last night, when I kissed him goodbye, it awoken something within me.”
“Another heat?” asked Prince Bradwell.
“More than that.” I beckoned for Pokeweed to come closer. “When you four hated me, I used to wish I’d been mated to a faerie like Pokeweed. I think he captured my heart the moment we met.”
“I am happy to share you with my brothers,” said Prince August. “But no one in the Royal Court will accept our bond if you’re also mated to the academy’s gardener.”
I turned to Pokeweed. “Show them.”
With a wave of his fingers, the enchantment fell away, revealing Pokeweed’s true face.
All four princes dropped to their knees.
“Your Majesty,” said Prince August between clenched teeth. “What is the meaning of this? Unity is our mate.”
“What about Her Majesty?” spat Prince Caulden.
Prince Bradwell glowered up at the king. “Are you going to kill us?”
Prince Rory’s nostrils flared, but he held his silence.
I glanced at Pokeweed, who stepped back and raised his palms. “I’m not your father.”
The fury on Prince Rory’s face vanished, replaced with wide-eyed shock. He pointed at Pokeweed. “The Duchess of Nevermore never mated with a centaur. It was with His Majesty!”
Pokeweed nodded. “That’s the only explanation we had for my appearance.”
“And your immense power,” said Prince Bradwell, his voice breathy with awe.
Prince Caulden stood. “You’re our brother?”
Pokeweed raised his shoulders. “I think so.”
Prince August was the next to stand. “With His Majesty’s likeness and power that feels like his, you could be nothing else.”
The four princes stood in a row, staring at Pokeweed as though trying to memorize his features. Under that kind of scrutiny, I would have shuffled on my feet or cringed, but Pokeweed stood proud.
A pang of sadness made my chest tighten. Poor Pokeweed had spent a lifetime being despised for his appearance and had gotten used to people’s stares. This time, they were looking at him because of his resemblance to the king.
“If any of you wish to challenge my claim to Unity, we can duel after we have rescued Helenium of Medietas from the Dark Fae Prison and dealt with Gala and the Duke of Nevermore.”
“Of course.” Prince August sounded almost deferent to Pokeweed. He turned to his brothers, who nodded.
Prince Caulden walked to the stump of a tree and produced a sack. “Here are the items from the seeing hag.”
He upended the sack onto the ground, arranged the bones and herbs and stones in a square, and asked his brothers to kneel at each corner. Magic streamed from their fingertips, causing the items to glow.
With the click of his fingers, Prince August set the items alight, and streams of curved flames joined each corner, creating a circle. The flames spread to the center, and the forest floor burned away to reveal a void.
Screams filled the air, so shrill that every fine hair on my body stood on end.
I cupped my hands and shouted into the void. “Helen?”
“Help me!” shouted a female voice above the screams.
Pokeweed placed a hand on my arm. “You’re supposed to summon Helenium with her full name. Otherwise, anyone may crawl out, and we’ll miss our chance to rescue your friend.”
Prince Rory cleared his throat. “Helenium Moerheim of Medietas, I command you to rise!”
Nothing happened.
A howl echoed from deep within the void. My teeth chattered, and I told myself it was the wind and not a monster of unspeakable evil.
The four princes turned to Pokeweed, who nodded.
He knelt at the edge of the flaming circle and said in a booming voice, “Rise, Helenium Moerheim of Medietas!”
Still, nothing happened.
“Please help me,” screeched the female voice. “I’m hurt.”
Swallowing hard, I knelt beside Pokeweed, ignoring the scratch of broken twigs under my knees. “Who is that?”
“Don’t speak to her,” said Prince Caulden.
“What if it’s an innocent girl like Helen?” I asked.
“Not all dark faeries are male,” said Prince Bradwell. “That could be Queen Maeve trying to trick you into dragging her out.”
A boulder of uncertainty rolled around in my gut, and my shoulders drooped. I stared into that pit, the woman’s pleas for help rattling between my ears.
Pokeweed placed an arm around my shoulder. “It’s rare for an innocent person to be thrown into the Dark Fae Prison. It takes an immense amount of magic, and
Helenium was unfortunate to have made powerful enemies.”
“Have mercy,” the woman wailed. “Have pity for a poor, fatherless girl.”
I bit down on my lip. Sicily had vanished into thin air, and I had been the only person who truly believed she had once existed. What if the owner of this voice was the same?
Pokeweed pulled me into his side. “We can make inquiries as soon as we have saved King Oberon from the Duke of Nevermore.”
A weary breath heaved from my lungs. We couldn’t stop Gala and her father if I made the princes rescue a dangerous faerie. “Alright.”
As the princes recited the closing enchantment, screams and howls from the depths of the pit grew louder, as though they didn’t want the portal to close. My skin tightened into goosebumps, and I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that I hadn’t condemned that woman to some kind of hell.
The flames vanished, and the ground reformed, muffling the screams, but a strange light streamed through the leaf litter. I gulped. Mistress Catha had told us how to reach the Dark Fae Prison, but she hadn’t guaranteed that the portal we would open would close.
Pokeweed placed his hands on the earth, and the leaf litter rose, combined into a large mass the size of the ritual circle, and slammed onto the ground, shutting off the light.
“Thank you.” Prince August’s shoulders slumped, and he wiped the sweat off his brow.
Prince Rory sat back on his heels and blew out a long breath. “If you hadn’t been there—”
“I hear someone,” said Prince Bradwell.
We all scrambled to our feet. I turned to Pokeweed, who waved a hand in front of his face, reverting to his cursed appearance.
Soldiers emerged from behind the trees, their white uniforms glowing silver in the moonlight. One of them shouted, “Stop what you’re doing!”
We shared awkward glances. Hopefully, the princes would command them to bugger off.
The Duke of Medietas stepped out from behind the tree, a sneer curling his lips. “You are all under arrest.”
Chapter 18
The moon disappeared behind a thick cloud, and the shadows of the trees lengthened as though they had a life of their own. A band of apprehension wrapped around my chest and squeezed.