by Lexi C. Foss
And as the Council was on my ass about locating my missing mate, I wouldn’t put it past them to have me surrounded by eavesdropping spells.
Zakkai wants to meet, Aflora said suddenly. He says you know where.
Tell him I’ll only agree if you’re there, too, I replied, my blood humming at the possibility of seeing and touching my mate.
I already said that, and he agreed. Was that a hint of amusement I heard in her voice?
It had me smirking in response, a reaction that earned me a raised brow from Ajax. “Something amusing?”
“Always,” I agreed as our shakes arrived via a stone-faced gargoyle. “We’re going to need these to go,” I said with a touch of disappointment in my tone. “Something’s just come up.”
The gargoyle muttered something about ungrateful fae brats in response and disappeared with our drinks.
“He’s going to add pebbles to those now,” Ajax said conversationally. “And what’s come up?”
“I’ll explain on the way,” I replied, sliding from the booth. “And a healthy tip will improve the gargoyle’s mood,” I added, a touch loudly so the rock creature would hear me. I set down double the payment on the table while I waited for him to return.
Sure enough, he was in a much better mood upon arrival. “Thank you, Prince Shadow,” he said, bowing low. Not in a mocking way, but in a respectful one that displayed his appreciation of my generosity.
Seriously, gargoyles were the easiest damn creatures to please.
If only certain fae could be as amenable.
I added a few more coins for fun, causing Ajax to roll his eyes.
Then we took our shakes, bid Anrika goodbye, and ventured out onto the cobblestone streets of the village.
“I hope you don’t expect me to bow, Prince Shadow,” he drawled.
“I don’t think you’d look all that great on your knees, Ajax,” I said, eyeing his tall, muscular body. “Not my type either.” However, Aflora could kneel for me any day, any time. And I’d do the same for her as well.
Ajax grunted. “Like I’d ever offer.”
“I recall you saying that about a certain Elite Blood recently,” I replied as I led the way back to the cloakroom. “Pretty sure you fall at her feet now.” It was a baited phrase, one I hoped he would pick up and give me the update I desperately craved.
“Yeah, well, I did. Then you recommended I tell her to play it cool, and now she’s not speaking to me.”
“Oh?” I tried not to sound too interested, but my heart skipped a beat at his words. “She doesn’t want to lie low?” I knew she wouldn’t. Which was entirely the point.
“No, jackass, she doesn’t. So thanks for that solid recommendation.”
“You know it’s best for right now,” I said, trying to make him feel a little better. If it all played out as expected, I’d thank him later. And then I would allow him to punch me in the face. Because, yeah, if this plan came to fruition, I’d earn his wrath and worse.
“Try telling her that.”
“I would, but I’m reasonably sure she hates me.” And rightly so.
“Well, she hates me, too, now.”
“She’ll forgive you,” I said as I stepped through the threshold to retrieve my cloak. “Trying bowing. I’m sure that’ll work.”
He grunted. “I hate you sometimes.”
No, you don’t, but you will, I thought grimly as I used a spell to adorn my cloak. It was hard to click the clasp one-handed, and I actually did want my shake. “I need to run an errand.”
“An errand that I assume you’re not going to explain,” Ajax replied as he engaged a similar enchantment to put on his cloak.
“You really do know me well,” I drawled.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waved me off. “I have homework to do anyway. As do you, but I have a feeling you’ve forgotten all about our coursework lately.”
“We have coursework?” I asked, feigning surprise. “I thought we graduated.”
He just shook his head. “I’ll see you when I see you, I guess.”
“Soon,” I promised. “Maybe I’ll show up at the Blood Gala.”
He snorted. “Now that’d be an entertaining surprise.”
“You think so?” I pretended to consider it. “Perhaps I really should go just to shock the shit out of everyone.”
“Do you even own a suit?”
“I might,” I replied, smirking. “But why would I wear one?”
He huffed an amused laugh and stepped through the glass to use the portal. “Later, Shade,” he said over his shoulder, disappearing from view.
“Later, Ajax,” I murmured, staring at my reflection for a moment. I’m sorry, I mouthed, not able to say the words out loud, but feeling them nonetheless.
Everyone had their part to play.
This was mine.
I palmed the back of my neck and blew out a breath, exhausted and yet eager to see my mate. I don’t hate you, Shade, she’d said. She had no idea what those words meant to me. I’d replayed them over and over again in my head for the last week, using them to calm myself when fear and resignation threatened to consume me.
We had three more days until the Blood Gala.
Three days before I found out if all this had been for nothing. Again.
I swallowed and closed my eyes, then blew out another breath. Pull it together. You can do this. Two phrases I was so tired of hearing myself say. But there was no alternative.
I’m on my way, little rose, I finally said, my nerves under control once more. See you soon.
“I’M TRUSTING YOU,” Zakkai said, holding out his hand for mine. “Don’t take that for granted.”
It was what he said before every dream. I usually returned the sentiment, but this time, it was truly about him trusting me and not the other way around.
Because he was letting me leave the paradigm with him.
I nodded, demonstrating that I accepted his terms again.
No running.
No portal-jumping.
No cloaking.
No trouble.
I wouldn’t jeopardize my chance to see Shade, so I’d agreed to all Zakkai’s rules. He slid his hand into my cloak to pull out my wand and tucked it into his leather jacket.
I arched a brow. “Really?”
“My trust only goes so far,” he replied. “But I also might need it.”
“What if I need it?”
“Then call for it,” he murmured. “It seems to be more in tune with your desires than mine, so it should listen.”
It wasn’t an argument worth having, so I merely nodded again.
His lips twitched. “I didn’t realize seeing Shade could make you so agreeable, Aflora. I should have offered this days ago.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seeing any of my mates makes me agreeable.”
“Any of your mates who aren’t me,” he corrected.
“Obviously.”
He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Let’s go, little star.” He reached down for my hand, and I gave it to him, just like I had when he’d led me outside earlier. It felt natural to accept, like my palm belonged against his. A fact I refused to evaluate and instead saw as a necessity.
We wandered through the hallways again, but in a different direction from before. This time he led me closer to the main dining hall but veered down a new hallway—one that appeared before him like the stairway and door had earlier—only for us to stop short as Dakota stepped into view. She frowned at our joined hands, then took in my cloak and Zakkai’s jacket.
“Are you heading out for another lesson?” she asked, glancing out the windows to the left. “I can’t tell what time it is, but I think it’s late.”
“I didn’t realize we had a curfew,” Zakkai drawled, stepping around her and yanking me along with him.
“Don’t we have a meeting?” she called after us. “The Blood Gala is only a few days away.”
My heart skipped a beat at the words.
Zakkai had said there wasn’t anything p
lanned for the gala, but Dakota’s statement suggested otherwise. I glanced up at him and noted the tick in his jaw. “We’ll discuss it later.”
“Later when?” she demanded, her heels clicking over the marble as she sauntered toward us. “I understand that you’re a little infatuated with the abomination at the moment, but we need a plan, Kai.”
I flinched at the term abomination.
“Infatuated is a childish term,” he replied, pausing to look over his shoulder at her. “And there’s nothing to plan. I’ve already said no.”
“Yes, but as your father said—”
“My father is no longer the Source Architect. His opinion is his own. Mine, however, is law. I won’t be discussing this further. Feel free to provide that report at the meeting.” He resumed our pace, ignoring her protests at our back.
“You’re losing your mind over this childhood crush!” she shouted as he took another turn. “You’re supposed to break—” A wall formed behind us, blocking her from following.
I glanced at him.
His expression gave nothing away, but I sensed his irritation in the bond.
“What’s supposed to happen at the Blood Gala?” I asked as a portal panel appeared.
“Nothing is going to happen,” he said, punching in a code that I ignored. There was no point in trying. I knew his paradigm would never allow me access to this area without him. “I’ve already said it’ll be hard enough to attend in disguises. I won’t be adding more magic to the mix. There will be far too much power present to risk it.”
“Do they know we’re planning to attend?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s not for them to decide.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed as the walls melted around us to reveal miles of snow.
My lips chattered at the sudden drop in temperature. What…?
Zakkai yanked me into his arms, covering me in the warmth of his body as the portal engaged to whisk us away. But not before my hair turned brittle from the subzero climate.
I was still shivering when the magical swirls ceased around us.
I buried my face against Zakkai’s chest, seeking his heat, my body chilled to the literal bone.
“What did you do to her hair?” a familiar voice asked from behind me as fingers combed through my icy strands. “Did you accidentally drop her in the snow?”
“I miscalculated the shift from paradigm to reality before the portal engaged,” Zakkai murmured, his arms tight around me. “My spell didn’t cover her in time.”
“Hmm.” Shade stepped closer, his body providing another layer of warmth that I desperately craved.
More, I begged, still frozen and trembling from the shock of the cold.
He aligned his chest to my back as Zakkai dropped his hands to my hips, the two men doing their best to provide me with the heat I needed to function.
It was a shock to my system, my legs locked in some bizarre combination of terror and ice.
“Antarctica is cold, even during their summer,” Zakkai said, pressing his lips to my temple. “Sorry, Aflora. I’m not used to taking others with me.”
I couldn’t reply, my lips numb despite my chattering jaw.
Shade ran his palms up and down my arms, his mouth brushing the pulse of my neck. “It’ll pass in a few minutes, little rose,” he whispered.
“Maybe now you understand how I know that you won’t tell Zeph our location.” Zakkai lowered his forehead to mine. “He wouldn’t last more than a few minutes outside my walls.”
I wanted to nod but didn’t try.
Shade kissed my throat again before saying, “Aflora said you want to talk about the rock. Did you figure out who enchanted it?”
“No, because I haven’t seen it yet.”
Shade stilled behind me. “What? I put it on the table.”
“It wasn’t there when I dropped by.”
“Then someone else picked it up,” Shade said slowly.
“Just like someone sent Aflora a stonepecker via her falcon,” Zakkai added, his gaze leaving mine to focus on Shade. “She said it was destroyed after you warned them the Warrior Bloods were coming?”
“What are you implying?” Shade countered. “That I’m fucking with you?”
“Oh, we both know you’re fucking with me, Shadow. It’s what you do best. But in this case, I think someone is fucking with us. Who have you been talking to?”
“I talk to a lot of people.”
“I know. Who?”
“Hello, Zakkai,” a female voice interjected, her tone holding a magical lilt to it that I recognized from the LethaForest.
Zakkai sighed long and hard. “Of course you took the rock.”
“It was the only way to ensure you ended up where I wanted you,” the woman replied as she moved toward us. I still couldn’t move, but I caught her image in the corner of my eye—her long, dark hair unmistakable. Zenaida. Shade’s grandmother. “It’s not who you think, Zakkai. And the intentions were well meaning, not unkind.”
My Quandary Blood mate heaved another sigh, his eyes finding mine before dropping to my mouth. “We may need to use a spell to warm her up faster.” He cupped my cheek, his thumb drawing a hot line along my lower lip. “You’re still tinged blue, little star.”
“He exposed her to the Antarctic climate,” Shade explained.
“Accidentally exposed,” Zakkai corrected in a clipped tone as his magic poured over me, thawing my icy limbs and removing the binds freezing me in place.
I inhaled a deep breath, his oceanic scent a calming cologne that I welcomed into my lungs. Then Shade’s essence added to the mix, his refreshing aroma adding a layer of tranquility that had me relaxing between them both.
Thank you, I whispered into their minds.
I’m sorry, Zakkai replied, pressing his lips to my temple again before looking at Zenaida. I followed his gaze to take in the petite female Shade called Grandmother.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Zakkai said flatly.
“That’s fine. You can listen instead.” Her tone was very matronly for a female who appeared to be no older than thirty. She wore a navy top of thick band-like straps around her torso that left her midriff exposed. And below her waist was a matching skirt that flowed all the way to the ground.
She was stunning.
I hoped I could pull that off in a thousand years. Assuming I was still alive.
“Hmm, well, I also have no interest in listening to you,” Zakkai added.
“Just hear her out, Zakkai,” a gruff voice said as a silver-haired male appeared at the tree line. A second man stepped into the clearing beside him—the one who resembled a slightly older version of Shade.
Zakkai looked sharply at my Death Blood mate.
Shade lifted his hands as he stepped back from me. “I had nothing to do with this. I wasn’t even here when Aflora called into my mind.”
“He didn’t know I took the rock,” Zenaida murmured. “I did that all on my own. Just give me thirty minutes.”
“You think a half hour will change my views?” Zakkai sounded amused. “All right, Zen. I’ll take that bet.”
“It’s not wise to bet against a Fortune Fae,” the silver-haired man said, his blue eyes flashing as he smiled to reveal his fangs.
“We’re not betting,” Zenaida said, her skirts rustling as she turned toward the two men. “Follow me. I have cookies.”
“Cookies?” Zakkai repeated, glancing at Shade.
“That means she has troubling news,” he muttered. “She always bakes cookies when she’s upset about something.”
“She makes them for Shadow to help him feel better,” the dark-haired man corrected. His icy eyes met mine. “Hello, Aflora. Lovely to meet you under better circumstances.”
I cleared my throat, the last of Zakkai’s and Shade’s enchantments leaving my body and returning me somewhat back to normal. “Hi.”
“This is my grandfather,” Shade
added, stating the obvious. “Grandpa Vadim.” He gestured to the silver-haired man, who had turned to walk with Zenaida. “That’s Grandpa Kodiak. They’re my grandma’s mates.”
“I thought Fortune Fae required a circle of Betas,” I said, recalling my brief knowledge of Fortune Fae and their societal structure.
“Not everything is black-and-white, my dear,” Zenaida called back to me, her tone again not matching her attire or physical age. “Now come along. I only have twenty-eight minutes left.”
Zakkai smirked and shook his head. Then he pressed his palm to my lower back. “Twenty-seven, Zen.”
She waved a hand in the hair over her head, dismissing his comment.
“Next time I need something, you’ll be coming to me,” Zakkai said to Shade as we started walking. “I want that rock when you’re done, Zen,” he added, his voice too soft to carry the distance she’d put between us. I couldn’t even see her through the trees now.
“Yes, yes,” her voice came back to us on the breeze, surprising me.
Fortune Fae, Shade whispered into my mind. Never underestimate them.
I never underestimate anyone, I countered. I’d been burned too many times to easily trust a soul. But I did feel a strange sort of kinship to Zenaida, one I’d picked up on when I met her in the LethaForest. It had me moving a little faster, curious to know what she had to say.
Then we stepped into a clearing surrounded by homes.
Several of the fae poked their heads out to gape at us.
I swallowed. Um, Shade?
It’s okay, Aflora. He linked his fingers through mine, stepping into my side while Zakkai walked on my other side, his palm still against my lower back. Everything’s going to be okay.
You don’t sound very sure about that, I remarked, hearing the hesitation in his tone.
He didn’t reply, just squeezed my hand.
Then he led us to Zenaida’s door.
Let’s get this over with, Zakkai said into my mind, pushing through the threshold. “Twenty-five minutes, Zen.”
“I only need ten,” she replied. “Sit.”
I YAWNED, already bored by Zenaida’s usual spiel about reformation being the more appropriate path forward. It would save more lives. Create a more inclusive council. Realign the source with all the Midnight Fae factions.