Finally Faeling: An Eight Wings Academy Novel: Book Three

by Akeroyd, Serena

  “The Claiming rite is an exchange of energy. By triggering the Rut, you made her more Fae than she’s ever been before.”

  “We used blood to reinforce her magic,” Seph recalled.

  “Making her impromptu net more Fae as well,” Gabriella murmured, her tone thoughtful as she processed what we were saying. “The Fae are stronger than witches. Your natures are hardier. Witches are more human, you are not. If she survives the night, then she should live.” Her voice was choked, even if her eyes were dull and free from emotion. “If she does, we’ll deal with what the magic brings.”

  Three

  Seph

  There were moments in a person’s life when they felt fear. Fear was natural. It was even healthy. It kept us alive, kept us cautious, stopped us from being reckless with ourselves and those around us. But it seemed Riel wasn’t one of those people who feared to tread toward the unknown, and for it, she was…

  What?

  We didn’t know.

  It wasn’t like she was metamorphosizing into something else, but in the day since she’d harnessed the meteor, her wings had turned black as night, her hair had shifted to a white blond as pure as Sol’s light, and her nails? The tips that had once been a natural white were now etched with some kind of metallic sheen that certainly hadn’t been there before. When I touched them, it was like they were forged in metal, but not gold, because I knew that was the softest of metals.

  Worse than that, she still hadn’t awoken.

  Whatever the radiation was doing to her, it was taking it out on her, and considering we’d been there to help, the changes in us were disappointing. As far as we were aware, we’d gained no gifts or talents. At least, not yet.

  It wasn’t that I was jealous, but I was concerned. Had we taken none of the radiation? Was she spared nothing?

  As I lay on my side in the bed I was sharing with her, I watched her sleep. Her wings were retracted for the moment, but they had a habit of popping out of nowhere—last night, Daniel had fallen off the bed because of her wings, a thought that still made my lips twitch. He’d been fast asleep one second, and the next, he’d been flat on his ass beside the bed.

  She barely moved aside from the shit she pulled with her wings. Her body was limp and lax against the sheets as she processed whatever was happening with her. Whatever being the operative word.

  We had no idea what she was enduring.

  Had no idea if she’d even survive it.

  A thought that had me gritting my teeth because even if she wasn’t afraid of much, I was terrified of that fate. Gabriella had said that if she survived the night, she should be okay, but we were a few nights down the line, and she kept on living but never waking…

  How was it that we’d instigated the Rut, had started the path of the Claiming, and somehow, days later, we still weren’t hers?

  Knowing we’d saved her by beginning the Claiming was the only thing that was right in our lives at the moment, but until she awoke, that provided little to no comfort.

  A frown puckered her brow, and I watched the minute movements, finding relief in them even if she did weird stuff in her sleep. I wasn’t talking about sleepwalking or hogging all the covers, but the shit she pulled with her wings and the things she whispered in a voice that was so quiet it was almost soundless. We’d all been watching out for them, trying to find hope she was still with us.

  When a glow permeated the bed a few moments later, I didn’t move off the mattress, just carried on studying her. It was still pink, but brighter than before, and small speckles of dust marred what had once been a pure cerise. The dust wasn’t white or even silver, it reminded me of the platinum ring my mother wore—the vil der Luir emerald. A white silver that glinted in the candlelight illuminating the bedroom, giving a soft glow to what was, essentially, a sickroom.

  I reached over and stroked my hand down Riel’s arm, massaging here and there before bridging our fingers together. When the heat from her fingers transmitted itself to me, I winced at first, then was surprised when my body just absorbed it. The glow from her fingers grew hotter, flaring wider, the silvery-white sparkles becoming brighter too, and through it all, I just held her hand, watching as the magic covered us, spreading over our bodies like a gauzy blanket.

  When the door opened and Matt peeked his head through the gap, I saw him rear back at the sight.

  “A good sign?” I asked softly.

  “Let’s hope so.”

  Matthew came into the room and perched at the edge of the bed. He was nowhere near her, nowhere even close, and yet, like the magic knew, it began to ooze toward him, not stopping until he was also covered in its embrace. And yeah, I chose that word for a reason. It was an embrace, not an assault.

  As it enfolded us in its warmth, he shot me a look.

  “New development?”

  “Would appear so,” I muttered dryly, squeezing her fingers so I could silently tell her that all was and would be well.

  Matt toed out of his boots and climbed onto the mattress beside her. “Daniel’s talking to Linford.”

  “About blood magic?”

  “What else?” Matt snorted. “I think he’s disappointed the blood magic alone isn’t enough to open portals.”

  I snickered at that, then closed my eyes as the glow began to pulsate. It reminded me of those lava lamps humans liked. Gently moving, pulsing to a beat of its own, and strangely soporific if you were cocooned within it.

  Pressing my lips to her shoulder, I murmured, “Hope she wakes up in the morning.”

  “Me too,” Matt replied heavily, and I realized he was feeling as sleepy as I was.

  The next thing I knew, it was morning, and when I opened my eyes, Riel wasn’t separating Matt and me. Whipping around, I saw that she was sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Her eyes were on us, but they weren’t chocolate like before. They were the same color of the silvery-white flecks in her magic.

  “You’re awake,” I rasped, as relief flooded me at the sight of her sitting up and aware.

  “I am,” she said with a soft smile.

  “You should have woken us up. We’ve been scared, Riel,” I chided, then felt guilty because Sol, it wasn’t like she’d tried to be malicious.

  “I wanted to watch you sleep,” she admitted. “I like it.”

  “That meteor turn you into a creep?” Matt asked around a yawn, as his eyes opened and he peered at her.

  “Maybe,” she replied, a soft laugh escaping her. “But I don’t think so. It was just… you were restful.”

  “You’ve been asleep for two days straight, Riel. Restful is the last thing you need.”

  “I feel like I haven’t slept at all,” she countered, reaching up to rub her eyes. “Did I dream it? The meteor, my grandmother? It feels crazy enough to have been a nightmare.”

  I shook my head and dragged myself up the bed so I could lean against the headrest. I wanted to go to her, but there was a reason she was holding herself aloof. She’d moved out of our arms and far from our touch. Though giving her space was the last thing I wanted to do, I’d do it if it made her feel better.

  Rubbing my bottom lip, I pondered what to say, but Matt beat me to it. “No. It was all real. We stopped the meteor and your grandmother helped us bring it to Earth.”

  Her jaw tensed. “I feared as much. That’s why I feel different, isn’t it? I remember Linford telling me about the other meteorite. The one that brought stronger magics, Virgo, and human born Fae.” She blew out a breath. “We absorbed the power, didn’t we?”

  “For someone who’s only been awake for a short while, you’re remarkably well informed,” I muttered with a snort, a little peeved—and not understanding why—at how calm she was.

  The last two days had been hell, and she was sitting there like she was waiting on a hair appointment.

  “The last thing I am, Seph, is well-informed,” she disagreed, then raised her hand, and within seconds, the glow formed. It manifested into a small vortex in her p
alm, a silvery-white flecked one. She cocked a brow at me, and within seconds, there was a flower on her palm.

  “Couldn’t do that before I assume?” Matt remarked, tongue-in-cheek.

  Her lips curved, twisted. “No. I couldn’t. The glow in itself was new. The flecks? Newer. And the flower?” She scowled at the small bud. “Do you know how hard it is to make something living?”

  I frowned. “Is it?”

  She gulped. “Yeah. It takes a very strong witch, and until recently, that wasn’t me.”

  “You had to be strong to manifest,” Matthew countered.

  “Sure, but I was useless. I told you, I did everything ass backward.” She bit her lip as the vortex stirred once more, and on her palm, two daisies made an appearance. Shyly, she reached out and pressed one to my lap and tossed the other onto Matt’s.

  I reached for mine, and the second I touched it, the delicate white petals began to change. Before our eyes, the small, silky fronds turned hard, and the silvery-white flecks from her magic began to overtake the daisy. Within moments, the little flower had become immortalized in, what I assumed, was platinum.

  “Take it you didn’t plan for that to happen?” Matt queried, his voice dipping as he stared at the daisy in his lap.

  “No,” I breathed, raising the once delicate flower that had weighed nothing and now had substantial mass.

  “Sol,” he muttered.

  The door opened, breaking into our tableau, and as we spun around to stare at the entryway, I saw Daniel take in the scene before hauling ass and rushing over to Riel. He did what I’d wanted to, but hadn’t been able to with her… I guess I felt like she’d been standoffish, the distance between us intentional, even if it was unwanted on my part. Daniel, either not caring or not recognizing her frame of mind, dragged her off the bed and whirled her in a tight circle as he hugged her firmly.

  “Thank Gaia, Riel, you’re awake.”

  It didn’t take much to see that she was clinging to him just as hard. I rubbed the daisy stem at the sight. A welter of emotions flooded me, ones I didn’t particularly want to name because they made me feel petty.

  Riel squeezed him back, then murmured, “Daniel, put me down.”

  “Don’t want to.”

  I snickered at his mumble, as did Riel and Matt.

  “Why aren’t you in your Rut?” he grumbled, patting her back. “Why aren’t you ripping our clothes off?”

  “It’s probably been delayed,” I pointed out. “She’s just been through something major, after all.”

  “True. I’m just ready for my Claim,” he murmured.

  Her eyes softened as she reached up and cupped his chin. “I’m ready for it too,” she whispered, “but everything will happen when it’s supposed to.”

  “If I hear more about kismet, I’ll go fucking nuts. I swear, what with those two and your grandparents—”

  Her jaw tensed. “My grandmother, what is she—” Her words broke off. “Never mind. I’ll learn the truth from her myself.”

  “That’s gonna be an awkward conversation,” I muttered quietly, and when Matt winced, I knew he’d heard me.

  “First things first,” she said after she blew out a breath. Lifting her hand, the vortex made another appearance, and a daisy appeared for Daniel.

  “Cool! You didn’t do that before.” His good cheer felt weird in the face of my soberness and Matthew’s cool regard.

  “No,” she agreed. “I have a few more tricks up my sleeve than before.” Her eyes darkened, and upon noticing it, I scrambled onto my knees and reached for her.

  “Riel, whatever it is, you’re not alone. We’re with you.”

  Her eyes closed tightly for a second. “I know. I know you are now, but what if I’m too much of a freak—”

  “Then you’ll be our freak,” Dan stated simply, and Sol, if that didn’t paraphrase it all.

  “He’s right,” I whispered. I knew it was strange that I felt like I needed to compete, but I couldn’t stop myself. The news that my father had cut himself off from Gabriella because of his situation was fresh in my mind. I didn’t want to be separated from her. I didn’t want her to favor one of us more than the others like her grandmother did. The very thought sent chills down my spine. “You’ll be our freak, and we’ll be yours, because as far as I’m concerned, no Fae can turn daisies into metal.”

  Dan’s eyes widened. “That’s definitely a new development. What the Sol have I missed?”

  I raised my daisy, twisted it in my fingers, and murmured, “Yup.”

  “Sol,” he breathed, stepping closer to the small flower and staring at it. “You think we’ll all do something weird to the daisy?”

  I cocked a brow at Riel. “She’s the one leading the show.”

  Riel’s smile was small, but I could see the pain on her face. I knew it wasn’t physical, but emotional. She knew something, knew it and wasn’t telling us because she was scared.

  Scared of herself? Of what she could do now? Had she been experimenting as we slept? Or scared of how we’d respond?

  I didn’t know, but I wanted to. Still, we needed to know what we were up against—we needed to have that conversation first.

  Dan, without further ado, grabbed his flower, and when he did, he almost dropped it. Light shone from the veins within the flower. Where chlorophyll lay, the pigment that allowed a plant to convert light energy into food, a white glow now burned hotly.

  “What the fuck?” he spluttered, raising it by the stem and twirling it so he could see the individual strands of light that had appeared upon his touch. When he placed it down on the bed, the light disappeared, then, when he picked it up again, the glow flashed once more.

  “You’re the Energizer bunny,” Matthew rasped, but his attempt to make a joke fell flat.

  “If that’s me, then what the Sol are you?” Dan challenged, his attention still on the gently glowing daisy.

  “I guess I’m about to find out,” Matt mumbled, and, sucking down a sharp breath, he reached for the flower.

  Which instantly disappeared.

  As we all gaped at his hand, he shook it, and the flower dropped to the sheets, once again fully visible.

  Gulping at the sight, I whispered, “Does this mean we have to wear gloves for the rest of our lives?”

  The uneasy silence that followed my question said it all—none of us knew the answer.

  ❖

  Riel

  The sight of my grandmother sitting at the kitchen table had my heart stuttering in my chest.

  After her death, there had been so many moments of regret. I figured it was normal for any sixteen-year-old though. I’d wished I’d spent more time with her. Wished I’d been more patient and had listened to the stuff she had to say.

  But all those regrets and recriminations had been for nothing, because those nine wasted years meant exactly that—nada.

  They’d been a lie.

  A big, fat, mean whopper.

  I just had one question, and she flinched the second I uttered it, “Why?”

  As she moved the mug in her hand, the earthenware scraped against the scored Formica table in a kitchen that made my battered family one back in Miami look posh. I knew from the guys that we were in Cuba, in the original homestead where my grandmother had been raised, but seeing was believing.

  How had our family been so powerful yet so poor too?

  The house was ramshackle to be sure, but the furniture was just as rustic. I figured the place hadn’t been lived in for a while, but it was like walking on to a Hispanic version of a Little House on the Prairie.

  And that wasn’t a compliment.

  The table was scratched. Deep gouges from only Sol knew what decorated the surface, and she made another scuff mark by rubbing the base of her mug against it. The chair was metal, rusty down the back, and the tiles on the floor, though bright and colorful, were cracked and dirty.

  The cupboards made the term ‘rustic’ sound romantic, and the stove looked like it was
lit by frickin’ firewood, not gas.

  She fit though. Weirdly enough, she fit.

  When she raised her head, it was strange to see myself in her face. I’d looked into the mirror a thousand times and had never imagined how alike she and I were.

  Her lips curved like she could read my mind. “The de Santos del Sol skipped a generation in many ways.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your mother is beautiful, but she takes after Linford. Your mother is a strong witch, but she didn’t inherit my power—you take after me in both regards.”

  I gnawed on my bottom lip, unable to deny what she was saying. “Why?” I stubbornly repeated, not wanting to talk about power or my mother, just wanting to understand why she’d lied about dying. Why she’d put us all through that horrendous trauma.

  “I had no choice. To keep you safe?” She shrugged. “I’d do it again. A thousand times over in fact.”

  “From the AFata?”

  “Yes. They wanted your connections, and I wasn’t about to let them have you. Not until you gained entrance into the Academy, at any rate. At least there you were supposed to learn something, pick up some means of protecting yourself.”

  My nose wrinkled. “That didn’t happen.”

  “No. Linford told me.” Her brow furrowed with irritation.

  “How did you visit me in the bath? What was that about?” My mouth tightened as I thought about just how powerful I’d believed her to be by maintaining a spell throughout her passage across the realms, and instead, she’d been alive all along. I was annoyed about her lies, but more than anything, I was hurting. I felt like she’d made a fool out of us all, and that notion ran in complete contrast to what I’d always believed about her. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure exactly whose side my grandmother was on.

  She spoke the right words, and yet, by her actions?

  Though I was still uneasy, I shrugged off the thought. She was my abuela—I had to have faith in that.

  “Linford has friends at the Academy,” she admitted easily. “One of the healers. She’d kept me abreast of your situation, had told me you were agitated, and then, one day, she saw your magic manifest. I read between the lines and waded into the fray. I knew you needed me, needed guidance.”