by Shona Husk
For the first time in a long time, he had no plan, no game in play. He took orders from the King and did what he needed to execute them, but that was all he did. Taryn made him want more. He wanted to feel the edge of risk and the rush of desire—and he didn’t want to hide it.
She considered him for a moment. “That I believe.” Then she held out her hand.
Verden hesitated even though he wanted to feel her hand in his again. “You should know there is a bet.”
“About me?”
He nodded. “Whose bed will you fall into first.”
“If you think I will give in so you can win the bet, you flatter yourself.”
“The good money is on Felan or the King.”
Her eyes widened. “Who did you place your money on?”
He took a step closer, invading her personal space; another step and their bodies would be touching. Taryn didn’t step back; she tilted her chin a fraction to meet his gaze. Her lips were soft and full in the starlight. He wanted to close the distance and kiss her. “No one. I said you’d sleep with no one.”
And there had been much amusement at his expense. Right now he was hoping to lose every coin he’d bet. His body hummed; he was harder than a sword and couldn’t remember ever being this intoxicated with lust. He’d forgotten how powerful true desire could be. Too many times he’d made deals and alliances by giving in to a vague attraction. He wanted to step back, to draw breath, and yet he couldn’t. She held him captive by simply questioning his motives. No one questioned him besides the King.
She looked hurt by his assessment. “Do you think I’m cold or unattractive?”
“No, Lady Taryn. I think you have spent too long in the mortal world and that you do not play as casually as everyone else. Sex is currency here; it is traded like gems and silks, given as favors and forgotten just as fast. I don’t think you can do that. Not yet anyway. For that reason alone, there are some who would like to see you broken and corrupted.”
“But not you, because you have honor or something equally lame?” She raised one eyebrow as she mocked him. She was far braver than she realized she was, but instead of her comment raising anger, it only spiked his interest further. She may not trust him, but she wasn’t afraid of him either. Around him, she wasn’t playing games. He wasn’t used to anyone being this honest.
“Honor is such a human term. I am loyal to the King, but I am just as dangerous as any other fairy. I seek my own interests, my own pleasure.” His finger brushed her lips.
Don’t gamble what you can’t afford to lose. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart or his head over a woman. If he wanted sex, he could get it from a handful of different woman tonight. But he didn’t just want sex; he wanted something more—the thrill of the chase maybe. That’s what he’d call it. It had been a long time since he’d had to chase any woman.
A group of fairies ran past, laughing and shedding clothes as they went. No doubt they were looking for a quiet alcove to indulge. Taryn watched them pass, her lips parted and her eyes wide. The midsummer festival would no doubt shock her further.
Verden waited until they’d moved on; then he took her hand and whispered, “Come. Let’s cross the veil.”
They moved quickly through the forest that had once been lusher. As they moved deeper, it became wilder, the trees less constrained and less arranged for beauty’s sake. Gems still grew like mushrooms on the bark, vines still hung from the branches, and flowers hung closed, waiting for daylight—but he could feel the change as they moved away from the castle. Power still throbbed, but it was raw. Unlike the grinning danger of Court politics, this was real, wild, and special. Those that never left the castle missed out on the true beauty of Annwyn. The glory most fairies had forgotten when they’d crossed the veil and taken up residence between life and death.
Beside him Taryn drew in a breath and stopped. She glanced around as if lost. “How far are we going?”
“Not much further.” The place he’d wanted to take her was still a little farther on, perhaps too far for tonight. Another time, maybe. “There is a doorway close by.”
“You won’t leave me there?”
Verden placed his free hand over his heart. “I swear I will not leave you lost, and no harm will come to you while you are with me.”
She searched his face. “Okay.” Her tongue traced her lip. “Where are we?”
“Still in Annwyn, the wilder parts. There are farms farther on, but I don’t go there.” Not anymore. Not since coming to Court and swearing he’d never herd a fairy cow again. People at Court forgot that at the edges of Annwyn fairies lived peaceful, dull lives. They forgot there was a choice beyond the Court or the mortal world.
He stopped in front of a tree with a split up the center just big enough for a man to pass through sideways. He placed his hand on the bark to be sure the gateway was still open and undamaged. The shimmer and ebb of power was there. A collapsed gate felt like a sinkhole. If he found one, he told Felan, so the Prince could seal the wound. It was the Prince’s job to ensure the boundaries between Annwyn and the mortal world were secure. The magic of Annwyn bleeding into the mortal world created problems that usually resulted in death.
Taryn mimicked him. For the first time since he’d seen her this evening, she seemed relaxed. Her face had lost the tension that had edged her eyes. She really didn’t like Court, which was unfortunate, as it could be a lot of fun.
He covered her hand with his. “Do you feel the doorway, the thinning and flux of power?”
She nodded. “Is that how you found it?”
“If you ever come here, or any doorway, and all you feel is a pull like a—”
“Black hole?”
Verden raised his eyebrows. “A what?”
“When a star collapses and its gravity sucks everything in. A black hole.”
He glanced up at the stars and tried to imagine one of them sucking everything in and failed. “If the doorway doesn’t feel like this, don’t use it, as it’s broken.”
“Right, don’t use a broken wormhole.”
Verden looked at her again. “Wormhole?” A doorway to Annwyn was not a hole used by worms.
“I studied physics at school. The doorways are like wormholes, allowing people to cross vast distances in a blink?”
“There is no distance. Annwyn exists in another realm; it overlaps the mortal one and bleeds into it in places.”
“Like the river?”
“Like the river, like the doorways.” He took her hand and led her into the tree, sliding through the gap. “It’s going to be cold on the other side.” Then he stepped through, bracing for the bitter chill. He should have taken her to the other gate.
The wind cut through him as if it were made of frozen razors.
Taryn stepped through and swore. Her body drawing close to him for warmth—for a heartbeat he relished the closeness. But even as he enjoyed holding her, he used the magic he possessed in the mortal world to pull together a cloak of leaves for her and then one for him. The cloak would also absorb some of the blustery wind—not an easy trick but he doubted she’d appreciate just how much magic it took.
“Where the hell are we?” She pulled the cloak around her but still shivered.
“I’m not sure. I know the icecaps are that way, over the ocean.” He pointed to his left. He’d been here a few times. It was wild and remote and no one came here, human or fairy.
Taryn was silent for a moment, strands of her hair whipping around her face. He was half expecting her to ask to be taken back, but she didn’t. She turned and looked around.
It was sunrise, the pink sky against the harsh mountains. She inhaled as if taking in the remoteness. “I don’t think it’s the northern hemisphere.” She plucked a leaf from her cloak and gave it a sniff. “And I don’t think it’s Patagonia or South Africa.”
“Does it matter?”
She nodded. “I like to know where I am. If it doesn’t matter to you, why bring me here and not somewhere els
e?”
“I like it.” He shrugged. She was right. He could have taken her to a dozen different places but he’d brought her to one of the most remote ones, and one of his favorites. “Why not? Aside from home, where else would you rather go?”
“I don’t know. A city?” She faced him looking hopeful.
“Old doorways. Old places that haven’t been destroyed.” So many doorways had been lost while he’d been Hunter. Humans had spread and multiplied and taken over. Would there be any old doorways left in another couple hundred years?
“Is there somewhere to sit without getting blown away?”
He laughed. “This way.” He led her around the giant gum tree that had been struck by lightning many years ago. Half dead, half alive, Annwyn had claimed it and now it would live for as long as Annwyn stood.
She lifted up the skirt of her dress and followed.
It wasn’t far until they reached a sheltered rock face, but it was far enough that should someone come through after them, it would be unlikely that they found the space he’d made. There was a boulder to sit on and a bottle of wine hidden behind rubble. He tried to keep everything looking as natural as possible. There was no point in coming to enjoy the wildness and then taming it to make it comfortable. When they left, the cloaks would fall apart and compost on the floor of the wilds.
“So, do you come here often?” she said with a smile.
It was hard to judge time when he didn’t spend much of it in the mortal world. Fairies judged by festivals, of which there were eight in a year. “Maybe twice a year.” More frequently of late, simply to avoid talking to people. Lately, Court had lost its luster.
Taryn sat on the rock and he joined her, perching on the edge. Their hips barely touched, yet he was aware of her every move.
“You aren’t too disappointed?”
“Yes and no.” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Here I can think and breathe, and I don’t have to watch what I say and who I look at, who I smile at.” She glanced at him. “Or do I?”
He returned her smile in response. She was here for the same reason as him—to escape and be free for a short while. When had he come to feel as though Court was trapping him? Once it had been all he longed for, all he lived for. He glanced at her and hoped she never became like him.
Taryn let her gaze skim over him. Even draped in his leafy cloak, he managed to look good, as if he belonged anywhere he sat. However, she knew there had to be a reason he was being nice to her that went beyond attraction. It was never this simple at Court. She knew that much. Maybe it was an order and he was just too polite to say—more likely he’d lied about the bet.
Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. Yet staying at dinner had held no appeal, and Verden was right that she needed to learn how to play cards so at least the King wouldn’t tire of her. She needed to get in and get out just as fast, before the King’s interested gaze turned to something else. The bet already suggested she’d sleep with the King or the Prince.
Ugh. While pretty like all fairies, the King unnerved her and Felan was just as scary—maybe more so, as when she spoke to him, she couldn’t work him out. All she was seeing was the tip of the iceberg; the rest was so well hidden.
Like Verden. He only showed her the bits he wanted her to see.
She needed to work on that and get to know him better. “Okay, show me the cards again, and let’s see if I can get a handle on this game.” Here she could play without worrying how many were watching.
He pulled the cards out and shuffled them like a pro before dealing. “Do you need me to go through the rules again?”
She shook her head. “I have them. It’s the cards that throw me. I’m used to four suits, no majors unless you count the royals.”
He was frowning. “But you play card games in the mortal world.”
“We have all kinds of games.”
“If I were to get a set of mortal cards while hunting, would you be able to show me some of the games?”
She placed a card and hoped she was doing the right thing. “Sure…why?”
“The only thing better than a new face at Court is a new game.” He put down a card, forcing her to pick up several. It was a good thing they weren’t playing for coins.
A new game. Maybe she could show the King one of her games. She took her turn, wondering if she should risk asking Verden. He knew the Court better than her…but could use that against her if he chose. Verden was playing his own game, and as much as she wanted answers, she had to be careful. He already knew too much about her and why she was here. “Would the King like to learn a new game?”
“I think he would like anything you showed him.” The edge was back in his voice.
So she hadn’t imagined the King’s interest. “Would it be enough to trade for the pardon?”
“It depends on his mood, but probably not.” He lifted his gaze from his cards. “How far are you willing to go, Taryn? Did your mother warn you of the cost? Did Felan?”
“It’s my parents. I have to do everything I can.” She looked away and pretended to study her cards; the game was meant to be fast and she was thinking too hard about every move. “But I don’t want that kind of attention.”
She didn’t want to be the King’s newest plaything. Verden had said sex was traded for favors, but she couldn’t. She was fairy but not that fairy. Never that fairy.
“He can give you what you want, return your parents before his reign is over.”
Verden was right, yet when she looked at him, he didn’t seem happy about it. Maybe this was a chance for her to press harder and learn something more about him. “Since you know what I want and the workings of the Court, what would you do in my place?”
“I would play the game without getting caught by it.” He touched her cheek, traced her jaw. His fingers were cool, but her skin still heated beneath his touch. Were fairy men really that different from human men?
Many human men just wanted sex and nothing else. Verden’s touch betrayed what he wanted even though his words denied it. He might have bet that she wasn’t going to sleep with anyone, but that wasn’t stopping him from wanting her. At least at Court he kept the desire hidden. Here it burned in his eyes.
“And how do I do that?”
“I don’t know. Not yet anyway. It will take time to unravel, and if you misstep, the Queen will make sure you vanish.”
“And you?” She shifted to face him. “The real reason you brought me here wasn’t just to be nice and help me learn to play cards.”
“It was in part, but I also wanted to get to know you better.”
“How much better?” Her voice was softer, revealing what she felt. The card game was forgotten as they watched each other.
“More than would be safe at Court with everyone watching.” His hand brushed her knee.
“With the King watching,” Taryn corrected.
Verden didn’t reply; he just placed his cards down. “We can’t be friends at Court.”
“What happens in the mortal world stays in the mortal world?” She understood that after just one day there. Having something private meant protecting it fiercely, so others couldn’t use it again her. Secret meetings with Verden would give her something to hold on to as she made it through each day. Already she was constructing a game where she would win. She’d get the pardon for her father and keep Verden for herself…well, until he got bored, but until then, she had someone who’d take her away from Court and teach her the games in private so she stayed ahead of the demands of Court.
He frowned for a moment, then smiled. It was a real smile, not the one he wore at Court. “Exactly. We can do whatever we want away from those who watch and plot.”
In the pale morning light, his gray eyes were almost luminous. She leaned forward. Their lips met, but it wasn’t tentative, the way first kisses should be. His hand wrapped around the base of her skull and his fingers threaded into her hair. Claiming. But instead of resisting, she opened her mouth and let him take w
hat he wanted. He tasted of fairy wine, sweet and sharp all at once. All around her she could smell the earth and eucalyptus trees. Her hand brushed his leg as she tried to steady herself. Beneath her hand there was muscle. The Lord of the Hunt, one of the most powerful men in Annwyn, was here with her. She knew he’d be more perfect than any human she’d ever been with. Her body leaned closer, already hungry for his touch.
Behind her, bushes rustled. She drew back and looked over her shoulder. Someone was there. She could feel the presence.
“There is nothing to fear.” His fingers trailed down her arm, heating her blood and making her heart beat too fast.
“Who’s there?” Had someone followed to spy on them? Was this a setup? She jumped up and took a couple of steps away from him in case she accidentally fell into his arms again. Cards scattered on the ground around her.
“Probably a spriggand or a dryad.”
She spun back to face him. “A what?”
“Wild fae.” He stood. “Not all fae left this world. Some remained. They linger on in the wilds. The rest of us claimed Annwyn and the power that fills the gap between worlds.”
She stared at him. “You’re that old?”
“Lords, no. I was born sometime during the mortal renaissance. But I know my history. When humans learned about iron, we retreated, eventually withdrawing to Annwyn. Those that remained are tied to the earth the way we all were once. As the wilds die out, though, so do they.”
No one had ever told her about the wild fae. “Have you met any?”
“I’ve seen a few, but while we have mixed with humans, they have remained pure. We are like a different species now, bound to Annwyn instead of the earth.” He sounded almost sad. He picked up the cards. “I will teach you Omission before we return. Maybe we should play for stakes to give you incentive.”
She’d been caught before making deals with him, and considering she was most likely going to lose, she didn’t want to owe him anything. “Like what?”
He shuffled the cards as he thought. Strands of his hair pulled free from the tie, catching in the breeze. “If you win, you get another trip across the veil.”