by K. M. Shea
“Regardless. I still find it unfair,” Rigel said.
I popped my head out of the blankets. “Oh as if you have space to talk Mr. I’ll-never-show-you-my-wings…” I trailed off when I opened my eyes.
Rigel stared down at me with his midnight eyes…his wings arched above his back.
As I stared at his wings, I finally realized what Solis meant when he said there were some things fae didn’t want to reveal about themselves.
And I got why Rigel had been adamant he would never show them to me.
Rigel—the most feared assassin among the fae, who’d been forced to kill his own brother in self-defense—had the most gorgeous wings I could have ever imagined.
They were huge, and feathery, and radiated so much magic it practically pressed me down in the bed. Knowing that wings were an expression of power, the size and feel of Rigel’s wings made me pretty sure that he was a lot more powerful than anyone ever gave him credit for.
I mean, everyone knew he was deadly, but this kind of power would have marked him forever on the fae chessboard of politics. No wonder he felt like he had to become an assassin. If anyone had figured out how powerful he was, he would have been crushed between fae who would want to forcibly elevate him, and fae who wanted to eliminate him as competition.
But what I was personally stunned by, and what revealed so much about him, was the coloring of his wings.
The backs were dark—but not black like I’m sure all of the Court assumed. They were a glossy midnight blue that matched his eyes. They were mottled with flecks of silver, hints of gold, and brushes of purple and lighter blue that made it look like he had a galaxy painted across the feathers. The undersides of his wings were a white so pure they glowed, even in the dim light of his bedroom.
There was no possible way for Rigel to have such beautiful and light wings—or such a beautiful soul—and truly be the lifeless assassin he had pretended to be for years.
“Rigel…they’re beautiful,” I whispered.
He shifted a little and curled one of his wings closer to me.
I brushed a finger down one of his long white primary flight feathers, then did the same to one of the smaller blue feathers near the top of his wing.
“You are surprised?” Rigel asked.
“A little—I didn’t think you’d have feathers. I thought all fae had wings made of light or membranes or something.” I stroked a feather again, unable to keep my hands to myself when they were so pretty!
Rigel shrugged. “Many do. It all comes down to an expression of who that fae is at their core.” His eyes were watchful, and though his stance was relaxed, I didn’t miss the way he clenched his fingers.
This is hard for him. But he’s still doing it.
I crawled to my knees and stretched as high as I could to trace the curve of Rigel’s wing. “What you’re saying, then, is that you’re an angel. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” I winked at Rigel and then wriggled my eyebrows in the creepiest way I could muster, trying to lighten the moment up. That was also the moment when I finally realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I mean obviously, having his wings out and wearing a shirt might have been a little tough, but holy cow did I forget how ripped he was!
Rigel smirked. “I’m grateful to see your awe hasn’t knocked your inappropriate sense of humor out of you.”
My gaze strayed from him, back to his wings. “You dig my inappropriate jokes!”
Although all I wanted to do was study his wing some more, maybe see how he could stretch it and move it, I was very aware that Rigel was watching me with great intensity, and that this was a big deal for him.
I forcibly turned away from his wings, and instead wrapped my arms around Rigel’s neck. “I got myself the perfect husband,” I announced. “Loyal, steadfast, uniquely understanding and with a twisted sense of humor to match my own—oh, and as hot as coffee, of course.”
“And powerful?” Rigel wryly suggested.
“I am grateful you can protect yourself—and me—in a fight,” I admitted. “But that’s just the icing on the top.”
“Ahh yes, you first ‘loved’ me for my political connections—or lack of,” Rigel said.
“Rigel! At least give me some credit and say I fell in love with your great personality!” I laughed.
Unable to resist touching his wings again, I brushed the white undersides. “Do you mind if I touch them?”
“No,” Rigel said.
I had an idiotic grin on my face as I stroked the feathers of his wing, but I refused to feel embarrassed about it, his wings were that gorgeous. I delicately held the side of the wing and tugged it so it stretched out a little. It was warm and soft, and even when he had them half folded up and arched like this they were still larger than me.
I wonder if—
“You’re wondering if you can sleep with them draped over you, aren’t you?” Rigel wryly asked.
I guiltily clutched his wing. “How did you know?”
“You had it written all over your face.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“They’re very beautiful, and I know they indicate all kinds of power and stuff…but they’re downy. And soft!” I attempted to defend myself.
“I’m not offended that you’re not admiring them,” Rigel said. “I’m just…surprised. Most fae would be taking note of their size and color and wondering what this reveals about me. You’re making sleeping plans.” His gaze was unreasonable as he stared at me.
“Soft and downy,” I reminded him.
“As you’ve said.” A smile briefly fluttered across his lips. “But I think it just reveals more about you.”
He scooped me closer with his wings. I smashed into him with a nervous laugh.
I planted my hands on his chest, my fingers splayed, and tried to lean back. I was still kneeling on the bed, so this was more than a little unsteady, but Rigel’s arm around my waist grounded me. I wasn’t going to fall over.
Rigel leaned his forehead against mine, our breath mingling.
I tried to keep my eyes open, but the sensation of his arm and wing curled around me and his forehead against mine made me into a swooning regency heroine, apparently. My eyes slid shut about a second before he kissed me.
It was like being wrapped in the night sky; dark, unfathomable, and I wanted it to never end. Through the connection of our lips and the brush of his wing I could feel his great power, and I fell into it, knowing I was safe—knowing that he cared about me.
It was both overwhelming—with a touch of fire—and exhilarating.
But even though it was an amazing kiss—totally swoon worthy—what hit me most about this, was that he had shown me his wings. He brought me closer. He let me in.
I was so happy, my heart felt effervescent in my chest, and I half thought I was floating.
I pressed my fingers into Rigel’s bare chest before sliding them up around his neck. I tried to convey everything I was feeling—my happiness, the knowledge of what he was doing by showing me all of this, everything.
When we finally parted—because breathing is a thing—I kind of collapsed on his shoulder. “You are an amazing kisser,” I said in a conversational tone.
I felt Rigel’s chest rumble with laughter, though nothing came out of his mouth. He kissed the corner of my lips. “I love you,” he said without any kind of warning—although maybe his wings, the kiss, everything about this had been a massive message.
I squeezed his neck, and I could feel my blush spread across my cheeks. “I love you.” I slipped one arm free from the death clutch I had on him so I could brush a few of his feathers. “And your wings.”
When Rigel cradled me close, I knew things had changed.
He really loved me. Fully.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “For letting me in.”
“Thank you, for trusting me.” Rigel tilted my head up so I met his gaze again.
I almost got lost in his midnight eyes, but when I leaned in again my eyes slid sh
ut as Rigel tugged me into another mind-blowing kiss. I stopped thinking about everything else—including his wings and how nice it would be to sleep with one draped over me—and clung to the fae lord, to my husband, who’d once tried to kill me but had settled for stealing my heart instead.
Epilogue
Leila
“When we finish going over the reports from our integrated police force, we have an update on the apartment building designed for supernaturals…Queen Leila, are you listening?” Elite Bellus cleared his throat after he addressed me.
I flicked my eyes up from the papers I was going over—I was investigating Birch’s Court. Since Amaranth had been kidnapped, there hadn’t been any other attempts on Flora’s or Amaranth’s life—I suspected Manith and Angstra had been behind a number of them, actually. But I wasn’t going to play fast and loose when Flora’s and Amaranth’s lives were on the line, so a deep-dive investigation it was. And no, I wasn’t sticking my nose into another Court’s business for fun. Birch actually gave me the information—since I was the fae representative it was my responsibility to help him out.
“Yeah, totally listening.” I highlighted a section in the papers to show Chase later, and popped the cap on my pink highlighter.
“…you’re reviewing other work again, aren’t you?” he asked.
I gave him my best smile. “Nah,” I said.
“I knew I should have been suspicious when the fae made you their representative,” Elite Bellus grumbled. “The first time in history the fae produce a representative capable of lying.”
“Isn’t it better this way?” I turned to a new sheet in my packet. “This way I don’t have to hurt your feelings by telling you ‘of course I’m doing other work, because this stuff is busy work that doesn’t matter.’”
“Queen Leila, it matters very much!” Elite Bellus said.
“But does it?” Killian asked. He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “I, personally, don’t care about the progress of the new apartment building—I’m confused why it’s even being brought before us. We approved the apartment building when the builder requested a permit. I shouldn’t have to be subjected to…show-and-tell.”
“The Eminence is right,” I said. When Killian’s smirk grew I brandished my highlighter in his direction. “Don’t get too smug—you’re still on my list after purposely goading Pre-Dominant Harka for an hour and refusing to approve a new werewolf territory.”
“Goad?” Killian—as handsome as sin—chuckled darkly. “I would never—”
“You always do!” Hazel glared at him over Elite Bellus’s shoulder. “The wizards nominate that Killian Drake should get a maximum talk time during meetings.”
I slapped my highlighter down on the table. “The fae second it!”
“Wait! Wait—the wizards do not make such a nomination!” Elite Bellus shouted.
While the older wizard mostly enjoyed having Hazel as his protégée since she was the one supernatural capable of taunting Killian and surviving, I suspected his stress levels had severely increased since taking her on as well.
Pre-Dominant Harka must have been thinking the same thing. She wiggled her chair back and forth as she studied Elite Bellus pityingly. “Better not take any sick days, Bellus,” she advised.
“You think I don’t know that?” Elite Bellus griped. “It used to not be quite this bad.”
“It’s Leila.” Hazel grinned unrepentantly at me. “She’s a bad influence.”
Elite Bellus raised an eyebrow as he peered down at her. “Adept Medeis, I have reminded you before that you need to refer to the Night Queen with the appropriate title.”
“Why?” I asked. “We’re friends.”
“Yeah,” Hazel said. “We’re excellent friends!”
“Even if you are friends, if you act too friendly people will begin to suspect you could be colluding.”
“When I’m married to the Eminence?” Hazel snorted. “Gotta say, Elite Bellus, if they’re only noticing just now, they missed the boat.”
“It’s nothing to worry about,” Pre-Dominant Harka said. “No one from the Midwest is complaining. It’s other regions that are making noises, and our Committee is none of their concern anyway.” Her eyes glittered, belying the seemingly innocent statement.
Elite Bellus frowned. “You’re only saying that since you have that werewolf planted in Queen Leila’s Court, which makes her an active participant in werewolf interests.”
“And your protégée—as she herself stated—is married to the Eminence, who is best friends with the Paragon. I think we’re all equal now in terms of getting so-called edges,” Pre-Dominant Harka said.
Killian yawned, showing his slightly elongated fangs. “Night Queen, are you going to stop subtly working on fae papers and just openly continue to do so if we waste more time during meetings like this?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “I was thinking I might start bringing a laptop,” I announced.
“I’d suggest a tablet with a keyboard,” Killian said. “You’d be able to hide it on your lap.”
“An excellent suggestion,” I said. “Except then I’d have to buy one, because there’s no way my steward is lending me hers.”
“You’re against new tech?”
“I’m against buying things!” I hotly declared.
“Still broke, are you?” Killian asked.
“So broke,” I grumbled. “We’ll be lucky if we’re not broke for the next decade.”
Elite Bellus winced. “As delighted as I am with the new comradery of our Regional Committee, might I advise you, Queen Leila—as a friend—that perhaps it is not wise to publicly discuss the financials of your Court.”
“Why?” I asked. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know.”
Elite Bellus rubbed his forehead and looked very tired.
“You started the change in this committee,” Pre-Dominant Harka reminded him.
“Yes,” Elite Bellus agreed. “And I am grateful for it.” He squinted at me and added, “Most days.”
I winked. “Love you too, Elite Bellus!”
A chair shifted in the audience section—some of the Regional Committee of Magic meetings were closed door, but a fair number of them were public as well, like today’s.
Elite Bellus glanced at the audience section and looked pained. “Very well, let’s try and wrap this up, shall we?”
The older wizard flew us through the remaining items on the agenda. Within a few short minutes, I was free.
I slid my papers into the fancy carrying bag Indigo had made for me, then fled the giant table we all sat around and hurried to the seating area, where I threw my arms around Rigel—the lone audience member.
“I’m done!” I cheerfully announced.
Rigel slid his arms around my waist and took most of my weight when I leaned into him. “Do you want to leave right away?”
“Yeah—I promised Chase I’d be home about fifteen minutes ago. We’re going to have to skip our Queen’s Court Café run and head straight home.”
Rigel tugged my case from my hand. “You can call him on the way.”
“I can, but he’s not the one I’m anxious for,” I said.
“Ah. Indigo offered to bring by more samples from her mother’s bakery menu?” Rigel guessed.
“You got it!” I slipped my hand into Rigel’s and turned to wave to the committee. “Bye, everyone!”
“Goodbye, Leila!” Hazel shouted.
Killian nodded, and Pre-Dominant Harka grinned at us before Rigel swept me through the doors and into the sweet air of freedom.
“The glooms let Bagel and Fax into the Night Palace again,” Rigel said. “I got the text during the meeting.”
“Oh gosh, I hope they didn’t make a mess?” I asked.
“No. Fax made it as far as the kitchen, where the staff were feeding him carrots and apples. Bagel got to the breakfast room and was inspecting the curtains when Lady Theodora found him and lured him back outside.”
�
��The breakfast room?” I tried to stretch my memory of the unnecessarily large Night Palace—I’d thought the mansion was stupidly huge, but the palace was so much worse.
I’d have tried selling a part of it if I could, but noooo—Court ownership blah, blah, blah.
Rigel guided me through the hallways of the Curia Cloisters. “Yes. Skye is worried the night mares are scheming to get inside the palace as well, because Eclipse and Solstice were outside the window Bagel was viewing.”
“No worries there. Bagel is a very smart donkey, but he can’t open a window. And if the night mares really wanted in they’d just make a gate.” I tried to say this nonchalantly, but Rigel caught my eye as we approached a side door that would lead us out into the parking lot.
“You had them make a portal into your bedroom, did you?”
“Why—and when—would I do a thing like that?” I innocently asked.
“Two nights ago when your floor was covered in small silver hairs that were far too short to belong to Muffin or Whiskers,” Rigel said.
I winced as he held the door open for me. “Promise you won’t tell Skye?”
“As long as it ends with the night mares,” Rigel said.
“Totally! What other animal would I bring inside? Our lake hydra couldn’t even fit one of his heads inside the palace.”
“I was thinking more of the trash griffins you are weirdly fond of,” Rigel said. “Given that they are half insane on a good day, I’d prefer to not let them in where they can poop everywhere and eat things that will make them choke and puke.”
When the Night Realm recovered and all my animals changed, I’d half expected the trash griffins would transform into elegant little griffins.
To my delight…they hadn’t.
Don’t ask me why, but I just love my fat, bedraggled trash griffins and their propensity to fly into stuff. They’re weirdly cute, and I wouldn’t want them any other way. Even if we do have to have a daily hunt around the gardens for all the contraband fast-food bags they drag there.
I shivered as we started across the parking lot, heading for Rigel’s car. “As much as I love my piggins—or piffins, I still haven’t decided—yes. I will agree with you, we’re not letting them inside.”