by Ella Fields
“Thank you,” I said, unable to forget how the faeries loathed lack of manners, even after Ryle’s demise. We waded through the foyer to the stairs. “What of the...”
Zad and some warriors fell into the doorway of the keep, laughing as they removed their fighting leathers and weapons, sweat droplets spraying.
Temika eyed them disapprovingly. “Ahem.”
They all stilled then bowed, Zad’s eyes finding mine for breath-catching seconds as he at last lowered. “Excuse us, my queen,” Melron said. “We had an unexpected, uh... altercation with a bord just beyond the falls.”
A brow rose, and I tilted my head. “Unexpected?”
Melron pursed his lips, Nerro thumping his back from behind and jostling him forward. “W-we went hunting.”
Temika rolled her eyes, muttering, “Males.”
“Hunting,” I said, looking at Zad for clarification. He offered nothing but cool indifference, every feature honed into utter stillness. “Zadicus, I trust you’re not killing endangered species for sport.”
“They’re pests,” a warrior spoke up with a hint of outrage. “They ruin crops and fencing, and some have even killed villagers and townsfolk.”
Zadicus continued to stare, and growing uncomfortable, I was about to look away when, finally, he nodded once.
“My queen, please,” Temika said, moving for me with fluttering fingers. “We are running out of time to prepare you.”
Reluctantly, I climbed the steps, Zad’s gaze melting into my spine.
“The fates have truly blessed you.” Temika stood back, eyeing my glimmering charcoal gown. Stepping forward, she fussed with the flowing skirts, the moon bouncing off the silk to reflect in her deep green eyes.
The bodice was made entirely from rose petals, their magic binds humming against my skin as they melded to my breasts and hips with every breath. “How will I get out of it?”
Temika giggled, tilting her head as she rose. “You merely take it off.”
I frowned but followed her to the door, the breeze dancing through the windows to rustle my curled hair, throwing half of it back over my shoulder.
The queens had arrived within the hour it took me to ready myself, the moon now a full heavy light above the castle. Howls intermingled with the whine of birds and laughter floating up the stairs from the ballroom on the second floor.
Temika had been exuberant with glee when I’d requested we hold tonight’s gathering inside the large, dust-laden room rather than the throne room. “Oh, it will be so pleased to be of use again.”
And I’d have raised my brows, thinking it absurd that a room had feelings, if I now didn’t know better. For they did, and the throne room had seen enough of this land and its occupants in the many years gone by. Its sagging weight could be felt like an old gnarled tree, pressing into my skin each time I visited.
“It’s tired,” Kash had explained to me over breakfast, watching me study the warrior lined walls, the dull light bouncing from their armor absorbed by the mosaic floors. “Too much bloodshed will do that to anyone.”
After staring up through the exposed ceiling, I’d felt it almost sigh in response when I asked, “What of the ballroom?”
Said room was aglow with bone-hewn chandeliers dripping candlelight over the occupants of the gigantic space. Chairs, wooden and curved and sprayed in a silvery gray that sparkled, sat between four large rose-choked columns and in the corners of the room.
Queen Mortaine sat perched on one, her plum hair gathered into an intricately braided crown and her vine-wrapped gown slithering over her skin as she laughed at one of her courtiers.
“It is the full moon,” Kash said, handing me a goblet of wine from a passing pixie’s tray.
The male’s blue lips tilted, and he bowed as we walked deeper into the room. It was unlike the welcome I’d receive during a function back in the Moon Kingdom—patrons remaining seated and in conversation, only some bowing and curtseying when they saw me arrive.
I found I liked the lack of fuss more than I’d ever thought I would.
“Some of the warriors are incapable of fighting the shift,” Kash explained. “So they are—”
“Absent,” I finished for him and stopped by the wall to take in one of the recently dusted paintings of the countryside—little huts and cottages sprinkled amongst rolling hills, dotted with wheat and spider-shaped trees. Inside the trees, if you peered closely, little orbs of light could be seen floating in the windows of homes high in the branches.
“Indeed. Some of the young ones”—Kash sipped his wine, dark eyes skirting the room when I turned to him—“they’ve yet to learn how to fight the impulse.”
“I don’t care.”
He looked at me with his eyes narrowing. “Ryle would have one of their limbs if they failed to show to an important event. Full moon or no, they belong to this court.”
“Why?” I asked, thinking they ought to loathe royalty rather than serve them.
“Why?” Kash repeated, brows now drawn tight.
Glancing across the room, I withheld a groan at the sight of my cousin, Adran, dancing and smirking down at a female wolf I recognized. He’d likely tricked the staff into letting him out of his room once more.
“It is how it has always been since any one of us can remember. Their fealty to the courts spans thousands of generations.” His voice lowered, a note of warning within. “To try to change that would not please them. It would only offend them.”
I pondered why that could be and thought maybe with the dangers of lupine genetics, they had need for structure, order, and something to defend and fight for.
To think of them without that...
A knowing look from Kash, and I half rolled my eyes. “Exactly,” he said.
I brushed a hand down the petals over my stomach, knowing it wouldn’t quell the trembling there as I felt Zadicus enter the ballroom. “You stated yourself that some cannot control it.” Kash sighed, but I went on with a pointed look at him. “So you agree such punishments need to at least be less... gruesome.”
Dace arrived, walking over to greet us with a bow. “Queen, everyone is now here. May we lock the doors?”
“Leave them open,” I said, and Dace blinked but nodded and turned back to let the guards downstairs know.
The crowds parted, but my eyes were already fixed upon where he stood. And though I could sense his awareness of my attention, Zadicus didn’t turn from the werewolves he was conversing with.
“Cousin,” Adran called, smiling so hard I hardly recognized him. Perhaps he was heavily intoxicated. Either way, he was not himself. “This is Moyra, and we are in love!”
The female just laughed and dragged him out the doors, where they stumbled into one another in the hall, and then began to kiss.
We watched them go. “We were supposed to punish him.” I exhaled roughly. “Again.”
Kash snorted. “He’ll find enough of that on his own.”
True, I thought. Over the rim of my goblet, I watched Zad adjust the sleeves of his long black jacket, the magnificent arch of his wings visible yet still above his shoulders. The silver threading on his white ruffled tunic caught the light and threw it into the group of creatures that wandered over to him.
Our eyes met, locked for unblinking seconds that made my hands slacken, my heartbeat slowing so I could try to hear his. I couldn’t, the reverberations and echoes throughout the castle mingling too loudly with the thud of my heart.
Long lashes dipped, and he looked away, stepping into the waiting group with a well-practiced smile.
“Darkness squash me,” Kash muttered into his drink. “You two irritate the fuck out of me.”
I smirked as he meandered over to Mortaine, who greeted him with a sultry, crimson smile. Before I could cross the room to the male who insisted on torturing me, a birdsong trill hit my ears.
“High Queen,” the silken voice sang, and Queen Hydrah rounded me with a tight-lipped smile. Her white wings drew my eye, sheer i
n the middle and thickening into matching white feathers as they climbed up into sharp peaks. She noticed me staring. “Marvelous, aren’t they? Indeed, it does not seem fair that not all of us in power are blessed with them.”
I gave her my own tight smile in response. “Thank you for attending.”
“But of course,” she crooned, a long thread of tightly woven black hair falling forward to cover a dark eye. She seemed content to let it be as she took a step closer, her scent of berry-stained soil splashing over me. “I wonder if the land might grace you with another blessing.” Her thick lashes bobbed as she assessed me. “The sensations during playtime”—her voice lowered suggestively—“unparalleled, if you know what I mean.”
My teeth appeared as my smile broadened. “I’m sure,” I said, locking that information away for later. “Though I’m quite fine without a pair of my own.”
“You have wrangled one of the winged beasts, I suppose,” the queen said, eyes never leaving me as she sipped from her tankard. “Just like Este, that troublesome traitor.” Though her words were filled with venom, her eyes shone with mischief. “Not to mention, a winged prince. So you’ve likely little need of your own.”
“I hear Queen Este heals,” I offered.
“She should be dead.” She laughed coldly. “I adore her, truly, I do.” Sighing, she drained her tankard and dropped it behind her on the floor, where a passing warrior almost tripped over it. “But I was most aggrieved to hear about the stunt she pulled.” Hydrah tutted. “Storming the heart of this land as though she had the right.”
The wolf shot a dark look our way before realizing who we were, then wisely picked up the tankard and kept moving.
I knew false concern when I heard it, yet I forced my expression into cool neutrality. “It would seem she was blinded by love.”
Hydrah rolled her eyes. “There’s a reason our kind does not love like those in the mortal realms, why we sometimes kill our mates rather than suffer the indignity and horror of losing our hearts and minds.” Licking her lips, she said, “Survival, my dear queen.”
I could not argue with that and felt eyes burning upon me from the center of the room. “It is most understandable indeed.” I finished my wine and turned to place the goblet on a chair at my back, hoping the queen would have floated away while doing so.
She had not. “I hope you’ll visit us in the Bronze Court, my queen. There is so much I’d love to show you.”
Her invite translated clearly into the threat it was; you’d better visit us in the Bronze Court, and soon.
“I find I am still trying to adjust to the Onyx Court, but as soon as I feel I am able, I would love nothing more,” I purred, meaning it, for the glimpse I’d had of their land in the sky, as well as the rest of Beldine, had me itching to see what else laid waiting for me to explore.
With a pleased smile, Hydrah curtsied and turned away, swallowed by dancers as the violins and flutes gathered into a fast-paced tempo most could not ignore—especially Ryle’s human ex-lovers who’d chosen to stay.
They were free to remain in their quarters and assist the castle staff or head into the city and find new lodgings, but they’d been warned that to misbehave or get themselves in danger would find them facing the same consequences every other creature was dealt—death. Either from their own mistakes or lack of knowledge, or from the warriors tasked with protecting the city streets, castle, and countryside.
I ignored the ancient crawling sensation that insisted on lulling me into movement, unable to shake the phantom sickness, that insidious terror from the time I was compelled to dance until my heart almost gave out. Looking at where I could still feel that burning gaze, my eyes connected with Zad’s, Dace and members from other courts surrounding him.
As if he could tell, and he likely could, why I would not dance, he walked over.
Panic and relief and longing flooded me, my hands unsure what to do, curling and uncurling at my sides as I smiled.
Queen Mortaine took his arm, her laughing eyes directed at him as she said something that made him turn to her.
With a hollowing chest, I made my way to the doors before anyone else could stop me for more awkward conversation.
I’d almost reached the portrait of a long-ago High King at the end of the hall when I felt him at my back and spun around. He didn’t stop. Zad took my hand in his, and we continued around the corner until we came upon two open doors.
We entered the second. The drapes were half-drawn, and a single feathered mattress sat upon a slim frame against the circular window.
“It’s been days,” I needlessly said. “I refuse to do this anymore. So if you’ve—”
“I know.”
“You know?” I almost snapped, glancing up at his sharp profile. His hair was tied in its usual fashion at his nape, allowing shadows to float over the crooked ridge of his nose and those exposed curved ears. “Then why have you been avoiding me? We cannot keep dancing in circles...”
“I’ve been busy,” he said, toneless as he closed the door behind him.
“Busy?” I climbed atop a rickety desk, the only other item of furniture in the small room, and watched the moonlight trace his every step as he slowly crossed the moss green rug.
“You could’ve died.”
Stunned by the sharp words, I blinked. “I didn’t.”
“What if you had, Audra?” he growled, and I flinched. Voice softening, he repeated, “But what if you fucking had? You would’ve just left me, and without so much as warning me...”
I swallowed, more understanding dawning, then whispered, “I shouldn’t have... I’m sorry.”
Silence closed in, and slowly, his eyes roamed me as if checking I was actually here. I recognized the gleam in his burnished eyes before they darted to his boots, and he cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed.”
Shocked again, my lips parted. I tried to hide it with a snide remark. “Well, this might just be a first.”
He glared, and I smiled, but he went on, his eyes upon mine beneath lowered brows. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to do this, being that I’ve gone and done exactly what you did to me.”
I waited, frowning as I watched his high cheeks shift in torment, a hand tunneling into his hair with enough force to remove strands from the leather tie.
“I struck back,” he finally said, low and swift. “I’ve failed you. I nearly failed this entire realm, but even though I shouldn’t, I care more about all the ways I’ve let you down.”
“Zadicus,” I started, ready to reprimand him.
His raised hand stopped me, eyes dipping all over me, pinched at the corners. “I couldn’t figure out how to apologize, how to make amends for not only that but also for my behavior. I... being here, Audra.” He released a rough exhale. “It brings out that side of me, and I know that’s not an excuse, but it’s true, and you...”
At the sight of the sorrow in those gold eyes, I was certain my heart had paused.
“You are my heart, Audra. You carry mine. You carry it, and you wield the power to destroy it, and I’ve never feared anything as much as our time here has made me fear losing you. You could’ve died multiple fucking times, and I didn’t know,” he said, voice dropping to a low growl. “I just don’t know what to do with something that formidable. It’s—”
“Paralyzing,” I ended for him, and his lips curled slightly.
A rough laugh hit the cooling air, his head shaking. “Melron, the other wolves, they dragged me on a hunt for they were sick of seeing me pace the halls and the gardens, muttering and attempting to conjure avenues that might hopefully lead me past all that has happened and back to you.”
“I hate that you could not just come to me and say whatever you feel.”
Zad’s lips slid between his teeth. He released them, his eyes gentling on mine. “You deserve more than a fleeting handful of strung-together words. You deserve more than me—”
“Don’t you dare even—”
“But.” He cut m
e off with a feral grin that restarted my heart with a jolt. “You will have no one but me for as long as I shall live.”
“And beyond that,” I heard myself whisper.
Finally, within one breath and the next, he came to me, his hands parting my legs to fit himself between. “Forgive me,” he rasped, forehead falling to mine, hands gliding up my bare arms to cup my face. “Forgive me, for I knew better, and I vow to do and be better.”
“If you’ll forgive me,” I countered, absorbing his scent with my next inhale, sighing as it cooled some of the desperate heat inside me.
“Always,” he said, our noses brushing. “I will always forgive you because there is nothing else, not for me, but also because you are a queen, and you acted as such. You didn’t need to apologize, but I love you, and I thank you for doing what I so selfishly needed.”
“Darkness,” I breathed, gripping his rough cheek, tugging at my skirts with my free hand for my legs to bind around his waist. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’m not done,” he said, tone hard, but his eyes soft.
I waited for him to continue, biting back a smile.
“I was not only mad at you,” he admitted. “I was furious with myself—for I knew—deep down, I knew what you would do. I knew you would outsmart anyone you had to and return home alive at any cost, and I was furious that I hadn’t been able to give that to you. That instead, you did it yourself because I...” He blew out a warm breath, and my eyelashes fluttered as it met my mouth. “I couldn’t keep up, couldn’t keep my head and heart afloat, let alone on the same page with each new assault and fear. I failed you, and just know that has been almost unbearable, almost as unbearable as being without you.”
My chest squeezed with empathy, with an understanding I hadn’t fully grasped until now. The look in his eyes... I tipped up his chin, and declared, “You did nothing of the sort. And not once have I so much as thought that.”
His shoulders and wings rose and fell with his next breath, and he nodded. His hand smoothed over mine on his face. “You might be of half-blood, but you are a true queen, Audra, the truest of them all. Beldine needs you, both continents need you, and I’ve been selfish in my quest to make you nothing but mine. I was wrong. I was a fool. I was drowning in love. And if you will have me, it would be an honor to stand by your side as you rule both realms as you are destined to.”