by Shona Husk
“You know he’s going to be back.” Ash flicked her hair over her shoulder, her gaze somewhere else. Jacqui was sure she was picturing Felan and imagining what it would be like to be with him. He had that effect on women.
“I hope not.” But her words didn’t ring true. Even now there was a place in her heart that belonged to him, though she’d gotten used to living with it being empty and unfulfilled. Today had reminded her of what was missing, but also of the danger of being with Felan. He was too seductive, like a drug that she knew was bad for her but she couldn’t resist. She couldn’t go back. She didn’t know if she’d have the strength to rebuild her life when he left her again. Which he would. He’d even admitted that Annwyn was still the first thing in his mind.
“You wouldn’t give him a second chance? Man, half the women in California wouldn’t kick him out of bed in the first place.”
Oh yes, they would, and if they knew what he was, they wouldn’t even get into his bed. But that was how he worked: he’d let her think he was human for six months before revealing he was the Prince of Death. He’d proven he was fairy by holding an iron nail on his palm while she’d watched his skin burn. Then he’d vanished for two weeks and left her to dwell on what he’d said.
“His job is more important than me. It always was. Besides, he didn’t ask for a second chance.” And he probably wouldn’t. She hoped he wouldn’t. Would she be able to say no? “He doesn’t think of me that way now.” The words tasted wrong as she spoke them. He hadn’t sought her out just to learn the truth. Ash was right. He would be back. What did he really want from her? That she didn’t know scared her more than a little. She knew fairies always had an endgame in sight. What was Felan’s?
“Well, if you’re not interested, you won’t mind if I take a shot at Mr. Tall-Hot-and-Trouble.” There was a glint in Ash’s dark eyes that Jacqui didn’t like.
Her heart gave a nasty clench, and she had to bite her tongue and take a moment to make sure she didn’t turn an unflattering shade of green. Felan would’ve had lovers since her; she’d had lovers since him. But none had stolen her heart the way he had—none had ever destroyed it like he had either. And even though she’d thought he no longer had a claim on her heart, she had been wrong. She still wanted him—maybe even loved him. However, that didn’t mean they were ever going to work. Sometimes love wasn’t enough when there was a whole other world standing in the way.
Jacqui looked at Ash, trying to make her voice light. “How would you feel if I dated one of your exes?”
Ash shrugged. “If I was over him, what does it matter?”
She couldn’t argue with that. She couldn’t say no, unless she admitted she wasn’t over him, and she wasn’t ready to do that, not even to herself. “True. If he comes back, you can serve his coffee and see if he bites.”
And if he bit, she was sure that would end her attraction to the overly handsome Prince.
***
It was night when Felan stepped back into the mortal world. The air smelled different here—drier and ancient.
“Where are we?” Taryn, Lady of the Hunt, glanced around. She had her sword drawn, ready to fight as if she’d been wielding a blade for years.
Felan hadn’t been sure what they’d find when they stepped through the doorway closest to his mother’s grove. His sword was a comforting weight in his hand. He paused and listened before answering, but he heard nothing but the soft rustling of holly trees.
“Middle East.”
“Are you trying to get us killed?”
He’d been concerned that the trees would be damaged by a stray bomb, but they were far enough away from civilization and the fighting that the grove remained untouched. “Be more worried about my mother’s spies than human weapons.” He’d been here only twice before—once when he’d followed out of curiosity, and once when he’d filled a promise and freed Bramwel, who’d been trapped here as a tree. There was a very good possibility that his mother had upped the security since. “Guard the doorway.”
If that were destroyed, they would have a long walk to the next one—which would no doubt suit Sulia perfectly, as he’d lose precious days.
“Don’t take too long,” Taryn whispered.
“I don’t intend to.” He gave her a nod and moved away from the doorway. His soft-soled boots were quiet over the rocky terrain.
As before, the skin on the back of his neck prickled from both the magic in the air and the tension. They weren’t alone. Flitting along, almost hidden by the trees and darkness, were wild fae. The wild fae were what all fairies had once been—bound to nature and existing only in the mortal world—until millennia ago, when some had discovered Annwyn and claimed it as theirs. Now the wild fae and fairies were two different creatures, but they weren’t at odds. On this old hill, the wild fae were drawn to the magic of the grove and the trapped fairies. They’d watched him last time, their skin rough and dark like bark, silently waiting to see what he’d do.
Freeing Bramwel seemed to have made them happy. And if he’d cut down the tree instead and killed Bramwel? He doubted they would have interfered. Wild fae rarely interacted with anyone; they merely watched.
If there were wild fae here, what else was here? Did his mother or Sulia now have the area guarded? He hoped he wouldn’t need to use his sword tonight. He didn’t like killing.
Maybe he was too soft to be King.
He pushed the thought away. He didn’t have to kill to be a good King. His father hadn’t killed to rule the Court—but then, his mother had done enough for the both of them. The trees grew closer together, and he could feel the resonance of the grove now. The wild fae fell back, unwilling to enter the place that had been desecrated, used to bind and torture.
His mother had gone to great lengths to hide it, away from a natural doorway yet close enough that the distance could be covered with a captive, and in a place of reverence for the wild fae. What she’d done had driven them out of the grove. He paused before entering. There were seventeen trees. Well, they looked like trees to the casual eye, but when he looked closely, he could see the fairies reaching for the sky and silently crying out. Their feet were embedded in the earth. They were alive and yet not.
Bramwel had refused to discuss what the experience had been like after Felan had freed him—except to say that it was nice to have a stretch and a scratch. After the successful recovery of one fairy, he knew all could be saved. The trouble was, he didn’t know what they’d done to be put here. With his mother, it could be anything from daring to be the King’s mistress to beating her at cards.
He drew in a breath and tried to center himself. A little wine from the cup of life around the roots of each tree, and the spell would break. For a moment, he considered each tree. Did he make his case now, while they could listen? Or wait? Or just let his actions say everything that needed to be said?
He sighed. This was bad business. But it would have been worse if he’d arrived and found them all cut down. He sheathed his sword and pulled the cup of life from his belt. He knew he wouldn’t be handing it back to his father this time. His father had been surprised when he handed it back after the last time he’d used it. Felan had been shocked his father would hand it over to him so readily. Only the King should use the cup of life. He looked at the relic from another time and saw it as more than a magical object, more than an ancient animal horn. His father trusted him to do the right thing and become the next King of Annwyn. His father would do anything to ensure that happened.
That was why Felan was here and not his father. It was important that he was seen to be these fairies’ savior. He pulled the cork from the small bottle of fairy wine he’d tucked into his waistcoat pocket and filled the drinking horn. Then he walked widdershins around the grove and spilled a little at the base of each tree. The ground immediately sucked up the offering and the branches began to quiver and then lower. He took a step back and
watched. A slow smile formed as the bark fell away and the fairies began lifting their feet out of the dirt where they had been rooted for too long.
A few stumbled, their legs unused to movement. Felan helped them up. He poured more wine, and let them drink and heal. They thanked him, not caring who he was, just that they were free. Their clothes were fashions he’d forgotten—the flowing white dress on a pregnant lady; gold-embroidered robe on a man; tight, multicolored hose on another. Some had been here for a very long time. It was a cruel punishment that should never have been allowed to happen.
How had Eyra even learned this magic? And who else knew how to trap a fairy forever? That was something he’d yet to find out. He made a mental note that he needed to see his mother—and possibly Sulia—for a private meeting. His to-do list was getting longer and yet his time was getting shorter.
He checked his watch, well aware Taryn was by the doorway alone, then looked at the gathered fairies—one was little more than a child. Felan pressed his teeth together and wished he had better news for them.
“I’m here to take you back to Annwyn.”
“No, I can’t. The Queen.” The woman in white placed her hand over her stomach and Felan knew immediately what her perceived crime was. His mother had refused to allow her ladies to take lovers or get pregnant after she had been denied the chance to have a second child. As a result, the numbers at Court had been slowly dwindling. The Court of Annwyn had been in decline for longer than he’d realized—or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to see it because he wasn’t ready to take over. He still didn’t feel ready.
“Annwyn is in winter.” He let his word settle like icy flakes of snow.
A few blinked, as if not understanding; others shuddered, as if feeling the chill in their blood. He could feel it in his, an ever-present chill that couldn’t be warmed away.
“The Queen is imprisoned for treason, and while there is the possibility of war, if you remain here, you will face certain death when the power shifts.”
The man in the purple-and-gold robe with sleeves that dragged on the ground folded his arms. “And who are you? Which side are you on?”
“Side?” Felan didn’t want to be standing here discussing a war he wanted to avoid.
“For war there has to be two,” the man insisted. A whisper rustled through the grove as the fairies started talking for the first time in many years. The man caught the edge of the conversation and stiffened as he realized his mistake. “Prince Felan?”
Felan inclined his head.
The man bowed. “I’m sorry, my Prince, I didn’t recognize you. You were knee-high last I saw you.”
That was longer than Felan had expected. Had there been others trapped over the years? If so, what had happened to them?
“Come on. There is a fair walk back to the doorway.” He started moving, then stopped. “I would recommend that you go to a village or the outskirts of Annwyn if you wish to avoid the Queen and her supporters.”
“You don’t want us at Court?” one of the freed fairies asked.
“I don’t want retaliation. I have freed you, but if it were known, I suspect there would be trouble, and not just for me.”
A few fairies exchanged nervous glances, and that was the first time Felan considered that he might have also freed a spy, someone who would report back to his mother. But who? They’d all met his gaze and smiled gratefully. Was he overreacting and being overly suspicious? He’d like to think he was, but given his mother’s record and Sulia’s conniving, he suspected his concern was justified.
After noting each of their faces, he led them back to the doorway. When they arrived, Taryn was wiping her sword clean on the clothes of a Grey. The Grey looked like a cloth-wrapped bundle of sticks, his limbs gnarled and twisted, his face caught in a wizened grimace.
Felan reached for his sword and the freed fairies stepped back. “Just the one?”
“Yes.” She sheathed her sword and looked at the fairies who had followed him to the doorway. Was she also noting who they were in case of later trouble? “Let’s not wait around to see if more follow.”
He nodded and led them back through the doorway to Annwyn while Taryn followed behind. Seeing Annwyn after so long would be a shock, even though he’d told them it was winter. They stumbled through the doorway, and some gasped in horror at the ice and bare trees. He was used to it, but it still cut to see Annwyn in such a condition. He was sure it got worse every time he came back.
A few glanced at him with blame in their pale eyes.
It was his fault. He should have acted years ago. He should be doing something now. The time for stalling and delicate games was over. He needed to go back to Jacqui and ask outright if she would be his Queen.
Chapter 6
A fairy wren fluttered onto the footpath in front of him and hopped around as if looking for crumbs. As Felan walked into the coffee shop, it followed, landing on the windowsill and watching. As before, Jacqui and the other girl were behind the counter taking orders, making coffee and serving cake, and then carrying the offerings to their respective tables.
It took a moment for Jacqui to notice him. When she did, her body stiffened and she glanced at the blond girl. Was she worried he would look at her coworker the way he had once looked at Jacqui? Or had they been discussing him?
He walked over and placed his order. The girl handed him a table number, her fingers deliberately contacting his, her smile a little too wide. The whole time Jacqui watched, and he had the distinct impression he was being set up. At Court, he might’ve had some fun and returned the blond’s smile, maybe even flirted a little to see where the game was leading and if he could turn it to his advantage. But not here and not in front of Jacqui. He didn’t want her viewing him with suspicion. In truth, he didn’t feel like flirting or laughing. He had nothing to laugh about.
The table he’d used last time was empty, so he sat there and watched the waves. So far it was only the rivers affected by the tearing veil. He was sure the oceans hadn’t been affected when his father had taken over. His stomach rolled like the waves on the shore, and he looked away. Even looking at that much water was uncomfortable.
“Latte?” The blond tilted her head and smiled. He was sure it would have worked on a human male, but he’d seen it all before and on a hundred different faces.
“Thank you.” He purposefully added sugar to his drink and stirred, aware she was still standing there. Waiting for him to acknowledge her. “Can I help you?”
“I just wanted to make sure everything was okay?”
“It is.” He held her gaze until she looked away. “Maybe you could get Jacqui to send over a piece of cake. Her pick.”
That wiped the smile of the blond’s face. “You know she’s not interested.”
“I never said I was. We have a past. I still consider her a friend. And friends don’t date another friend’s ex. It gets messy. I don’t like messy.” He had enough of that at Court. Here was supposed to be simple. It had always been simple with Jacqui. He wished he could take the watch off and start rewinding time. He’d do things so differently. “Actually, tell her to wait five minutes until she finishes, then she can join me. My treat.”
She took a moment to process what he’d said, and when she’d worked it out, all sweetness left her face. “Fine.”
He looked at Jacqui as the blond relayed the message. It was clear the blond was unimpressed—she hadn’t expected to be brushed aside so quickly. When Jacqui lifted her gaze and looked at him, it was as though she was steeling herself for battle; that was much better than running.
Five minutes later, Jacqui came over with one piece of cake. “Carrot cake okay?”
“Perfect. Thank you.” He smiled.
She didn’t return his smile, but she sat opposite him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Having cake?”
“Don’t be li
ke that. Why are you here?” Her fingers flexed against the table but that was the only sign she was nervous. She didn’t trust him.
That was nothing new. Even his son hadn’t trusted him completely because he was fairy. But Jacqui knew him better than that. She knew who he was. Maybe the easiness they’d once shared was gone, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t build something new. The old attraction was there; it was just buried under layers of old hurt. He had to start peeling back the bad stuff. And that started with admitting he’d screwed up and apologizing properly.
He would never admit anything close to that at Court, even if he was at fault. He took a breath and held her gaze. “I wanted to apologize for leaving you. For not finding out the truth, and for blaming you. For letting my own fears get in the way.”
She tilted her head slightly, as if trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or if it was a clever lie. “You have fears? You are the Prince of Death.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
He had a list of fears a mile long. However, they weren’t the sort that humans had. He didn’t fear death or spiders or heights. He feared for Annwyn, for the mortal world. He feared that he wasn’t good enough to be King, but then he feared that Sulia would make a worse Queen. He feared he’d end up like his father and that he’d lose Jacqui forever.
She watched him as if waiting for him to reveal some of those fears. He didn’t want to give them voice. The silence stretched a little longer. He was going to have to say something, so he took a sip of coffee and formulated his words. “I don’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage, like my father, for the sake of Annwyn. I worry that I will end up marrying a woman who only wants power, not me. You have always hated what I do, what I will become. But never me…” He needed to believe that she didn’t hate him. That what he wanted was possible.
“I can’t imagine living without love forever.” She picked up the fork and helped herself to his cake. “I never thought I’d lose you, but you hurt me so bad I lost myself.”