King of the Mountains

by Elizabeth Frost

  His green magic called to her, that was all. Not the beautiful grin on his face when he’d sank down onto his knees before her. Not the heat in his palms that spread through her skin like sinking into a warm bath. And it wasn’t the honeyed taste still coating her tongue.

  She scrubbed the back of her hand over her lips. She needed to get him off her. His taste, scent, touch. All of it had to go, or she would lose her mind.

  The trees tried to reassure her. They whispered there were worse things than kissing a faerie king, and it didn’t matter how his touch had branded her. He was an honorable man to the core, and she could do much worse.

  “I don’t want to do worse or better,” she snarled. “I didn’t want anyone in my life. I was perfectly happy on my own before being blackmailed into coming here. Don’t you see? I don’t need him.”

  An oak beside her sighed. Leaves rained down on her as it shook its branches. “No one needs anyone, little witch. Sometimes they fall into our lives to help just because they can. Not because you need them.”

  Well, she didn’t like that answer either. Morgan slapped another branch. “It doesn’t change my feelings, oak. Now get out of my way.”

  They let her pass, although she could hear their mutterings the entire way. They weren’t happy with her choice to run, and frankly, neither was she.

  Her entire body ached with need. She was angry, frustrated, and even worse, she didn’t like herself right now. Morgan wanted to run back to the cottage and throw herself into his bed.

  How bad could it be?

  The well of magic deep in her body throbbed with an old pain. A pain she remembered all too well.

  Draining her magic for another person would only lead to worse heartbreak than now. She’d give him every piece of herself, and he would take and take and take. Wasn’t that what people did?

  They used others until there was nothing left for the person to give. Then, they moved onto the next useful person who might give them something more.

  Faeries were takers, just like humans. People like them knew how to get what they wanted. And once they weren’t getting what they wanted anymore, then it was onto the next best thing.

  He was a faerie king! He could have any woman he wanted. Right now, he wanted her. While that was all well and good for a distraction, she didn’t need a distraction. She had to get out of this realm. Back to her plants, and her lonely little cabin in the middle of the woods.

  Morgan paused and braced herself against the trunk of a tree. Lonely. It was the first time she’d ever thought of herself as lonely.

  What was he doing to her?

  Now her own life wasn’t as satisfactory because of one damn kiss?

  This wasn’t like her. And she didn’t appreciate the massive shifts in who she was as a person. This was just a man. Just a few months and a drop in a very large pond of her life. She could survive through this without losing more of herself.

  The bark of the nearest tree warped, revealing a strange face with glowing green magic deep inside it. Stone eyes rolled from the back of its head to meet her startled gaze.

  The creature from the middle of the night? What was it doing here?

  She had somehow convinced herself their meeting was a conjuration of her mind. She wanted to think something here planned to keep the king alive. That was all.

  But here the creature was. In the flesh.

  Twigs became its mouth, stretching from the tree into warped lips. “I told you to get close to him, not to lose your heart.”

  Morgan snarled. The sound came from deep within her belly where the animalistic witch inside her lived. “I don’t care what you told me to do. I’m not doing anything here because you ordered me to do so.”

  “Well you should listen to me.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  Morgan stumbled back as the creature peeled itself from within the tree. She tripped, tumbling over a fallen log behind her and landing hard on a bed of moss.

  The creature appeared taller this time. The branches of its legs were thicker, more stable as it lumbered forward.

  Thankfully, it didn’t straddle her as it had last time. Instead, the creature sat down upon the log she’d tripped over. Its knees were made of rocks, she realized. In fact, every joint was a rock allowing the sticks of its body to swing.

  The creature leaned its earthen forearms on its legs and watched her with a blank, stony gaze. “You’ve seen what he could become.”

  She gulped. “I’m no oracle,” she said, although the words felt wrong.

  “You keep saying that,” the creature replied, “but maybe you have a little oracle in you after all.”

  “No. The coven of witches tested me. They said the only magic in me was green, and weak at that.”

  “Hm.” The creature reached up and plucked one eye out of the socket. Once released from the socket, the eye glowed with the power that gave the creature life.

  It held its eye out for her to take. She told herself it was just a stone. She’d picked up a hundred stones in her life and none had made her feel nauseous to hold.

  But this was an eyeball. It had been in the creature’s head, looking at her. Morgan swallowed her disgust and reached for the rock. She held it in her palm only for it to roll over and look at her.

  The creature hummed. “There’s more magic in you than the first time we met.”

  “I helped heal some plants the faeries brought back from other realms,” she replied. “I had to take some of his magic to help.”

  “That’s good. The more magic you take from him, the less he can use.” The eye rolled again, this time staring between her breasts and beyond. She could feel the creature’s old magic reaching into her heart and surveying the magic of her soul. “It’s changed your power, you know.”

  “No,” Morgan denied the implication. “My magic is still my own. I’ve kept the two separate because I know the danger.”

  “Not very well,” the creature replied. “I can see him in you. And if I follow the connection, I can see you in him.”

  Morgan felt her heart stutter and then slow. Her in him? How was that possible?

  She couldn’t imagine he’d taken any of her magic. She would have felt the ripping of energy from herself. No one had ever taken something she hadn’t given, not without her knowledge.

  But he was a faerie king. He could do a lot of things others couldn’t.

  Shaking her head, she crab walked away from the creature. “No, no, all my magic is right where it’s supposed to be.”

  “Don’t run from me, Morgan.”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore. I don’t even know who or what you are.”

  “Morgan, stop moving.” The words rang with the power of her name. Faeries chains surrounded her ankles and wrists, forcing her to stop. Pinning her to the ground.

  This was why she didn’t want any faeries knowing her name. This was what she had feared the moment her name was uttered in this realm.

  The tree being stood, its knees creaking. Every step toward her shook the ground, and she would swear the creature got larger as it moved closer. As if the forest itself was feeding it with more sticks, stones, and moss.

  It knelt before her in a mocking bow. “I am the embodiment of this forest. The trees gave birth to me when they were first brought here, as their mouthpiece and their caretaker.”

  She forced her mouth to open. “The king never mentioned you.”

  “The king doesn’t know I exist.” It placed a hand on the ground and lady’s slipper flowers bloomed where it touched. “He only knows something in this forest protects him when he needs it. And now, he needs protection more than ever.”

  “I’m just one woman,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to protect a king, nor do I think I’m the right person to do so. I was hired to kill him and failed! He can protect himself.”

  “I’m telling you to protect him, witch. And if I’m telling you, then that means the trees are. The land that cradles you req
uires your help.” The eye in her hand rolled out of her grasp and back to the creature. It picked up the stone and popped it back into the socket. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.”

  14

  Morgan couldn’t sleep. She stared up at the moon above her nest and wondered why she felt so... strange.

  After her conversation with the forest being, she couldn’t get its words out of her head. The Mountain King was inside her? She’d spent hours in the sequestered pools of her own powers, kept separate from his borrowed magic, but she couldn’t find a hint of green.

  It was all her magic. All the way it should be.

  Sure, there was more magic than she’d thought there would be so soon after depleting it. That wasn’t all so surprising while she was in the faerie realm. She knew time passed slower here than in her world.

  But then again, Liam had claimed this wasn’t the faerie realm. Maybe time passed the same as it did in the human realm.

  She didn’t know what to believe. Was her magic growing faster because some of his had melded with hers and she couldn’t see it?

  She should have been disgusted that a faerie had somehow left his mark inside her. Any self-respecting witch would have funneled all her magic into the ground and made sure there wasn’t the tiniest bit of faerie inside her. Her coven would have destroyed every bit of her magic. They would have tried to exorcise the creature from her skin, soul, and mind.

  The responsible thing would have been to do exactly that. Scrub her mind clean of him, and any lingering faerie influence.

  But she couldn’t let him go.

  Her mind wondered what the world would look like without the green magic. The veins of emerald still hovered at the edge of her vision. She could see where every single plant was tied to this realm and all the glimmering power.

  The world was more beautiful because she could see all this. It was lovely and wonderful and so different from the human realm. Giving that up felt like giving up her ability to see color.

  It wasn’t necessary for her to see the magical ties, but it made the world a better place.

  She sat up in her nest and scrubbed her hands over her face. Sleep wouldn’t be coming tonight, apparently. All she could manage was arguments with herself.

  “Get ahold of yourself, Morgan,” she grumped. Her mind wouldn’t listen.

  If she wasn’t thinking of her magic, then she was thinking of that kiss. The kiss that had branded her for the rest of her life.

  How was any other man going to live up to that?

  Such a stupid thought. Men didn’t have to live up to each other and comparing anyone’s kiss to another was foolish. She was only hurting herself with thoughts like these.

  Groaning, she sat cross legged in the middle of the nest and held her head in her hands. Tunneling her fingers through her tangled locks seemed to help. She could tug a bit and the pain put her back in the place where she needed to be. She had to remember this was only temporary, and she had survived worse than handsome faerie men who consumed her thoughts.

  “You’re fine,” she whispered. “There’s no one else here but you. You can control whatever you have to control.”

  Breathing deeply, she centered herself.

  Except, when she opened her eyes, she realized centering had only made things worse. Tiny stones floated in the air. No, not stones. Crystals had been pulled out of the earth, their holes still open in the ground where her power tugged.

  The moonlight glimmered on their sharp edges. All different crystals, each beautiful and wondrous, but so horrifying.

  She wasn’t in control.

  Each crystal was a distinct type to help with anxiety. She reached for one, plucking it from the air where it floated. The amethyst was nearly perfect. The pillar would have made a fantastic wand back when witches still used them.

  Morgan allowed the smallest bit of her stress to flow into the stone. And to her horror, it glowed green.

  The creature had been right. Liam’s magic lived inside her own. She couldn’t control it any more than he could.

  Morgan dropped the crystal into her lap and blew out a long, low breath. She was so screwed.

  Suddenly, the nest felt like a prison. She was trapped in these walls he’d made, and everything was changing. Even her own magic no longer felt familiar or welcoming. Morgan wasn’t herself. And a witch who wasn’t herself was more dangerous than an atomic bomb.

  Scrambling from her mossy bed, she tossed herself out of the nest and into the forest. Moonlight followed her. Tendrils of light grabbed at her shoulders, trying to hold her in the safety of her borrowed room. But it was all too much.

  Anxiety pressed at the back of her throat. She would vomit if she stayed trapped any longer.

  Tumbling out onto the forest floor, she realized even that didn’t release the tension. The forest wasn’t a haven for her. It was just as much a prison as the rest of this realm.

  He was in every bit of the construction. She saw his broad shoulders in the strength of the trees. His smile in the delicate veins of the leaves. His laughter in the moss trailing up the tree trunks.

  Liam was the mastermind of this place. If she loved the land, then she must feel the same way for the constructor.

  But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Even feeling fondness for a faerie was a death sentence. He’d take her heart and stomp on it. He’d twist it up into a poisonous ball and force feed it to her the moment she tried to leave this place.

  Faeries weren’t kind.

  They didn’t bring back plants from the human realm just to put them into pots and heal them. They didn’t whisper sweet nothings in her ear and stop themselves from taking what they desired. And they didn’t hold themselves bound to a code of honor that allowed a woman to leave their room without paying a debt.

  Breath catching in her lungs, she struck the tears from her eyes and stumbled through the wood. Away from the nest. Away from the trees.

  She couldn’t stand to be here anymore with so many eyes on her. The trees judged her actions. They whispered questions, asking why she couldn’t just let go.

  “I’ve been trying my entire life,” she whispered through tears. “I can’t do it.”

  All her life she’d been searching for something. Someone. Maybe it was just the idea of someone who could ease her out of this horrible place in her life where she was stuck. Alone.

  But she didn’t want anyone to change the way she did things. Morgan liked her life the way it was. Adding people to her plan made maintaining her routine difficult. She remembered the first man she’d fallen in love with. How wonderful his kisses had been and how his arms had turned into a safety net from the world.

  Until he found out she was a witch. He’d been convinced she would sacrifice him to the devil and ran from her so fast he’d tripped and fallen onto a rake.

  Morgan had made him promise to tell no one what she was. If he’d ever loved her at all, he had to keep her secret or he would bear the burden of her death.

  He’d agreed. But he’d worn the scar from the rake for the rest of his life. Others had asked what happened between them, and he always said the same thing. “She wasn’t who I thought she was.”

  The next man had thought she was too wild.

  The next that she was too tame.

  The most recent that she hadn’t applied herself in witchcraft enough, and her quaint life was a waste.

  Every single person wanted something different from her until Morgan didn’t know who she was.

  She burst out of the trees and down into the gully where the portals were. Her lungs heaved in air as though that could dispel her panic. Her muscles ached with tension she couldn’t release no matter how hard she tried. All the ghosts of lovers past whispered in her ears.

  Not good enough.

  Not pretty enough.

  Not a talented enough witch.

  She had spent her life being less than what someone had expected and now people wondered why she was so closed off? They clai
med she was too cold for anyone to love. So many people wondered why she was callous, rude, why she pushed people away. She was the creation of their disregard and disdain.

  She fell onto her knees where the portals had opened. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. A panic attack swelled through her body. Burying her deep in regrets until she couldn’t breathe through the grave dirt filling her lungs.

  Morgan let her head fall back and her mouth fall open, sawing in a breath. She stared up at the moon that looked so similar to the one she knew and loved. The moon that had given her the gift of femininity and forgave her for so many failings.

  “Mother moon,” she whispered through thick tears. “I just want to go home. Please, won’t you help me go home?”

  Wings fluttered in her ear. Dragonfly wings that scraped against each other like glass. “Witch? You want to go home?”

  All Morgan wanted was a few moments to have a breakdown in private. She didn’t want to talk to another faerie who would try to convince her to stay. Or worse, report back to their lord and king what had happened.

  Her shoulders slumped forward, and she pressed her hand against the soil. “Yes, I want to go home.”

  The faerie fluttered into view. She was no larger than Morgan’s pointer finger. A flower petal dress covered her very human body, and dragonfly wings moved so quickly behind her they were little more than a silver blur. Her hair was bright green. Everything here was unique, at least she could appreciate those details.

  The faerie hovered just before Morgan’s gaze. “Why would you want to go anywhere?”

  How could she explain anything to a creature who loved this realm? She didn’t want to confuse the faerie. Or worse, taint its experience.

  But she couldn’t lie to it either. They deserved to know why she felt stuck. “I can’t be alone here. Ever.”

  “No one is ever alone,” the faerie replied. A soft grin crossed her face. “The earth is always with us. The air is always giving us life, and the water is always lulling us to sleep. Fire always keeps us warm. The four kings keep the entire world alive.”