It was inside me.
It was me.
At least that’s how it felt, standing in a palace overlooking a city that had the heat of life pulsing from every conceivable inch.
What was happening to me?
Why did it feel like flames were clawing at my chest and all I wanted was for them to overtake me? Turn me into fire. Then I’d never know what it felt like to freeze again.
“The elixir!” I whirled around on Meek and Hoodlin, but they were gone, and I was alone at the top of the stairs.
I frowned at where they’d just been… or had it been a few minutes? I couldn’t tell how long I’d been overlooking the city. The sun was just as golden, gleaming like bright dense metal.
“It only took a few hours, but you are home.”
My head spun to the right of me. There was a large arch doorway, and standing in it was a man so tall, handsome, and intimidating, I felt my knees jiggle. In wonder, I realized that I wanted to kneel. To fall to my knees. Power radiated off him like summer heat waves in the distance.
I found myself on one knee, head bowed, before I’d made the conscious decision to even consider doing so.
“Rise, Princess. Your respect is appreciated, but not needed. We are equal. Our blood sings the same song. It craves the same ashes.”
I rose to my feet. He looked like me. Without the feminine features and height, that is. Or the pointed ears. I reached up to touch mine, and my heart stilled.
“It only takes a few hours in Faierie for your true self to take over.”
“I’m human,” I argued, surprised by the fire in my response. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—deal with all of this. “Is this real? Am I dreaming? Did I not wake up in Alaska? Where’s Maxell? Do you know where he is?”
“What were you doing in Alaska?” he asked, tone even.
The calmness and smoothness with which he spoke brought me up short. It was nothing like the begging lost quality to my words. I had questions and this man had all the answers, maybe even some to questions I had never even thought to ask before.
“Maxell brought me there. We were running from Phare. He’s a Warrior from The Immortal Society. They were after Maxell because he was of Pure descent, and I was human, and it seems like ancient vampires think they have the right to control the world because they’ve been here longest. But I don’t think that’s true. And I don’t think that’s fair.”
He smiled. “They have only been on earth for a blink, Princess. We were kind enough to leave the human world to them. You’d think they’d be wise enough by now to pick up on the fragility of life, to appreciate it a bit more than they do.” He turned for the open archway. “Come.”
His command tickled the back of my brain. Made it uneasy. Letting out a small sigh, I followed after him, wondering when it would be all right to fall apart. There were cracks and breaks; special things threatened to leak through.
He led me into a large room with another window showcasing the city outside, fit with a fireplace ten times bigger than any I’d ever seen. Fire that glowed scarlet and honey burned within. Sparkles floated out, small spots of gold before they popped and fell to the floor like a sneeze full of glitter. This part of the castle, and from what I could tell of what I’d seen on the way over, wasn’t like the part I’d woken up in. The walls here were the same stone of the bathroom, but they were polished in this room, like all the memories it had seen made it shine.
“Rawum?” he asked, picking up a decanter from the table in the middle of the room. There were glasses of varying sizes beside it, and two places set with food.
“What is it?”
“It is wine made from Rawum fruit,” he replied, smiling again when I frowned. “Have a glass.” He held out a chair for me and set a tarnished goblet down beside the place set closest to the fire.
I took a tentative seat.
He took the seat on my right at the corner of the table, putting his back to the city.
I noticed the city was perfectly open to me.
He drank a long swallow from his goblet. I studied him as he did so. His hair was long, the same color as mine, a shining dark brown. It brushed well past his shoulders. His eyes were the embodiment of fire, far more amber than mine but similar enough. Gold wrapped around tangerines intertwined in spice. He was handsome in all the ways I’d always wanted to be beautiful—true and effortlessly.
His eyes flicked to mine. “Drink, Princess.”
I grabbed for my goblet, bringing the deep red liquid to my lips. The moment it touched my tongue, the taste sliced through any reticence I may’ve had. The taste was so rich, sweet, and spicy. It made grape juice taste like a poor imitation of its own self. It was so tart and so sweet at the same time; my mouth watered even as I finished the last drop.
My mind instantly settled.
My body relaxed.
I took a deep breath and felt the sheer amount of the pressures and pain in me go with it.
I grinned at the king. Okay that he was in fact king. Okay that my body was soft and pliant and that it was okay to cry a little.
He reached over and wiped the tear away, his thumb calloused and yet still somehow soft. “For future reference, never drink Rawum wine, Princess. Not unless you crave willingness and mindlessness. I needed you to be in a calmer, more accepting state to hear what you’re about to hear. Ask me anything and I will answer, but only if you listen to me first?”
I nodded, far too willing to be willing. I felt so soft and plushy, like a teddy bear that was sticky. “Sure. Why not.” I grabbed the eating utensils laid beside the plate of food before me.
It was a green plate, but it wasn’t perfectly circular like every other plate I’d ever seen. As if someone handmade each inch. Stars falling into fire decorated the rim. On the plate was a mixture of dessert and vegetables. I gawked at it, unsure if I were seeing it correctly. Since when had I eaten my cake with my salad? I poked at the mix of diamond shaped leaves that looked like a mixture of dinosaur kale and spinach. I brought a leaf to my mouth and the taste of lemon and pepper burst on my tongue.
Next, I slid my wooden fork into a piece of what appeared to be vanilla cake, but when I tasted it, I was met with the taste of pears and clementine’s.
The king’s plate was full of the same. Dessert and vegetables. “Is this the first course? Are we going to eat a steak with muffins next?” I snickered at my own joke, licking the orange-laced frosting off my fork.
He smiled as he took a large bite of cake. “Fairies do not consume meat,” he responded easily. As if that were the truth and the truth was not to be messed with or reconsidered. Because it was the truth. “Would you like some meat?” he asked next.
My stomach turned. Now that I thought about it, the idea of eating anything bloody and meaty made nausea settle swiftly in me. I chased it away with another bite of pear cake. “No, now that I think about it. It sounds revolting.”
“I imagine it is. Your human side was little, but it was important. Your human side kept you alive until this point. It kept your fae self—your true self—safe.”
In my state, his words sounded so soft and easy to believe. I let them in, let them envelop me warmly, like wading into ankle deep sun-warned water. I bit into a round red vegetable that tasted like radishes and garlic. I dunked it into the citrusy dressing.
“Are you ready to listen, Princess?”
“Yes,” I mumbled, happily chewing.
He nodded in approval, sitting back in his seat, eyes fixed on my face as he began to speak. He tore through my humanity like an untamed wildfire. I knew before he said the first word that when he was done speaking, not even an ember would remain of who I’d been.
“You are my child. Your mother was Danica.” Saying her name made him smile. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was a sad, nostalgic, and regretful kind of smile. I gave her the same one. “Your mother and I were betrothed. I was fond of her. She was desperate. Not many suitors would marry a halfling, let alone make her queen.
It’s almost unheard of. But I needed an heir and your mother needed her place in this world to stop being questioned. But your mother was half human and half fairy. She went to and fro between both worlds, and she found a human man she loved more than she loved Faierie, more than she loved me. We weren’t married long before she fled to the human world. With you in her belly. I’ve been looking for you for seventeen years, Emmie. You’re named after my mother, Queen Emmielee Tealson.” That time, his smile was just sad. “Danica raised you with the man you thought was your father, but from what I hear, neither were parents, were they?”
I shook my head. There was no room for comforting lies in my head. “They abandoned me too many times to count.” I finished my cake and moved on to a pastry layered with berries and fresh cream that tasted of apricots and vanilla.
“I found where you were the night they were killed.”
Tears ran down my face silently as I took a huge bite of pastry. “I found their bodies.”
He reached out and touched my hand. “Your grandmother did you a great service. Those that murdered your parents were looking for you. She kept you concealed. Probably most of all from me, but I knew you were out there.”
“Wait,” I said, surprised. “You know my Granny Londa?”
“Londa is human. Her husband was fae. Hence your mother’s halfling blood. Londa never raised your mother. Humans aren’t treated well in Faierie. She left Danica here with her father. Your grandfather, Kix, is still my royal aid.”
In my serene brain, everything he said made perfect sense. If my grandfather was the king’s royal aid, then that meant the king had access to my mother. Being a halfling in a world of fae probably wasn’t easy on her. Marrying a king would make her life so. Until she met a man—whom I thought was my father but was not—and fled from Faierie with me, raising me in her own way. “You didn’t know where I was?”
He shook his head.
“Why didn’t you look for me?” I could barely meet his eyes.
His however didn’t waver. “Because I knew one day you would find me. You’re fairy, Emmie. It would be impossible for you not to find your way here.”
That was all good, and that was all fine, but it wasn’t comforting. It didn’t soothe the broken parts in me. It didn’t take away the pain. It didn’t make the past okay. I looked back at my plate. “What if I didn’t find you? Technically I didn’t do anything. My parents lost custody of me before they were murdered. I had no one. I went to live with my grandmother, whom I barely knew in Port Inlet, Washington. I didn’t know there were fairies or vampires, or that I’d fall for one and become another. It was luck that Maxell led me to Alaska, that I was found and brought to you.”
“Was it luck? Sounds to me like you couldn’t stay away from Faierie. You aren’t the first fae to find their way here. It happens to the few children who are stolen from Faierie. They all end up back here. Just in time, too. I need your blood. Your power. I need you to be who you were born to be.”
“Which is who?” Who was I?
“My princess. Our world is in danger. The Fire Court has held the power for so long, I feel it slipping. Our eyes in the sky are being threatened. And there is just me, ruling an entire element on my own. I am strong on my own. But we could be unstoppable together.”
“Is that what you want me here for? To join you? To rule?” I gaped at him. “Either the wine’s wearing off, or you had some before I came out here. Look—” I stopped, recalling he hadn’t told me his name. “King,” I attempted, making him smile again. “I’m no princess. I’m just a seventeen-year-old girl who needs to get back to her pair bond. I don’t know what’s going on anymore, but I do know that there’s no way I can be here while the other half of me is out there. And who knows for how long he’ll be out there.” I gulped, wiping angrily at my tears.
“Perhaps we can make a deal.”
“Isn’t making deals with fairies a bad idea?”
He winked. “Mostly. But we are blood. From the same throne. I have no reason to undercut you, Princess.”
I held his gaze. Maxell said fairies were sneaky. Maybe not in so many words, but he had hinted at as much. But Maxell wasn’t here, and I had no way of saving him without help. “If you help me save Maxell, then I’ll help you do whatever you wish.”
“I should warn you, Princess, that when faes make a deal, both ends must be upheld. If not, the consequences can be dire.”
“Dire how?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never broken a promise.” He took a pointed bite of cake.
“Can you help me save him, or not?” I slammed my fist down on the tabletop; it shook beside my plate. I was barely holding it together. But I must, hold it together.
He delicately touched his hand to mine. His touch was inordinately warm. Not hot or even sweaty, but like the thick layer of heat in the room was a part of him. His hand was much larger than mine. He wore rings of gold that twisted around each finger on his hand other than his thumb. Stars and fire decorated the rings, and they were all connected at the top to a gold chain that disappeared under his maroon colored long-sleeved shirt.
“I must be open with you. I sense your mood. I wish it not but wishing away your sadness won’t make it disappear. There are similar bonds in Faierie that exist in the undead.”
My eyes widened. “Fairies have pair bonds, too?”
“I suppose anything that lives forever, or even for a short time, requires a bond of some sort. I’ve never bonded myself. I’m curious though, who the stars and the flames think will suit me for an eternity.” He smiled at me. A wistful, hopeful kind of smile. It made me smile, too. “You are special, Princess. To bond so early on in life. Your etern must be very special as well. I will do everything in my power to bring him to safety but know that he will not be accepted in Faierie. This world is forged in the essence of magic and the elements. It isn’t anything like the mortal world. Very few are tolerated here that are not fae. Even halflings are considered less. The fae are a righteous breed. There is no other kind like us. There never will be. By the next moon, your human side will have been eaten up by the fairy in your blood. Perhaps that’s why your bond was so soon. Or perhaps you earned a forever partner in life when you needed them most.” He cleared his throat and released my hand. “If you agree to our arrangement, what I wish will be fulfilled. No matter what, no matter where, no matter when. Is that agreed upon?”
He had said a lot of things. A lot of things in his smooth, singsong voice that was a touch deep and a touch otherworldly. He had an accent, but it wasn’t one I could place because I’d never heard it before other than in Meek and Hoodlin. The King’s accent was thicker and melodic, like orange blossom honey dripping down a violin bow and onto a ruby garnet—I wasn’t sure I heard a word he said as I listened to every single one of them out of his mouth. I wondered if that’s why he was king. He said everything so well, you forgot to listen while you hung on every word. Behind his eyes, however, laid an abhorrent amount of power and danger.
“Yes,” I answered, before I realized what I’d done. “Wait, that’s a yes if you save Maxell.”
“Then it’s a yes.” He closed his eyes and I felt a ton of pressure, fear, and determination trickle around him and into the air. When his eyes opened, they shimmered with an emotion I recognized. Relief. “I have been on my own for a long time, Princess. I have lost many of our blood to war.” He held out his hand, waiting for me to place my palm to his before he spoke again. “But I will no longer lose. Not with you. To the flames,” he said, like a prayer, and flames shimmered in his irises.
“To the flames,” I whispered back, wondering if my eyes did the same. Trickles of sweet tingles danced across my flesh, down my back and onto my tongue. I pulled my hand back and folded them in my lap. “I feel weird.”
“You feel powerful,” he corrected. “You feel your birthright. You feel all that was kept from you rushing through your blood like flames racing the igniter.”
I
shivered. “How do I know any of this is real?”
He shrugged one shoulder, finishing off his cake. “The same way we know anything is real. You can’t control it.”
“I was human a few hours ago.”
“You thought you were human a few hours ago. You’re fae. Your powers were suppressed somehow. I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother paid a witch to suppress your true self. Does your childhood look fuzzy?” he asked.
I nodded, trying to look into the past. Typically, I avoided it out of the sheer need to survive. To never ever think about what I came home to that day. The day I snuck back into a house dripping blood. “I thought my dad killed her and then himself. He became so depressed after he lost his job. That’s what the cops said. There was a suicide note.”
“I am your father, Emmie,” he reminded me patiently. “That man was a human. They were both murdered. It was pure luck you weren’t there when it happened. Think of your life before today as a test run. Your true self will take hold of you. By the next complete moon, you’ll come into your own.” He gazed upon me like I was the one who was lost, because I was. His eyes didn’t look so found, but they didn’t look nearly as lost as I felt. “I can have a whairy roam your brain. See what was blocked and what can be retained.”
I pushed the rest of my plate away. “What is a whairy?”
“Whairy’s are also haflings. Half witch, half fae—some of one, too much of the other. We welcome them in Faierie. Witches, too. Witches are as powerful as us and though they’re not bred from magic the way faes are, they can harness it quite effectively. I’d prefer them on our side than against us.”
“My head hurts,” I mumbled, rubbing my temples.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he replied with a chuckle. “I’ve never had a headache. I can’t imagine you having one either.”
Court of Frost and Embers (The Pair Bond Chronicles Book 1) Page 25