The Lovely Dark

A MONSTER ROMANCE ANTHOLOGY

EMMA HAMM     JULIETTE CROSS     ZOEY DRAVEN

Copyright © 2024 by Emma Hamm, Juliette Cross, Zoey Draven

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons are purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover by Seventh Star

Contents

Wave Song

By Emma Hamm

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Also by Emma Hamm

About Emma

Kings & Bones

By Juliette Cross

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

Also by Juliette Cross

About Juliette

The Midnight Arrow

By Zoey Draven

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Also by Zoey Draven

About Zoey

There are some monsters you want to meet in the dark…

Wave Song

BY EMMA HAMM

Alys Fairweather has always loved the sea. So when her father gets the opportunity to build a city beneath the waves, she is the first in the submarine with him. She never expected to discover an entire species of merfolk living there. And she certainly didn’t expect to find one of them so captivating. But the song of the waves is one she has never been able to deny, even when that temptation comes in the form of a battle scarred merman.

Chapter

One

The sea breeze tangled in her hair, toying with the blonde ends and sweeping them into her face. Waves crashed against the sides of her submarine, one of the first designed by her father, and even though some of the salty water slid inside the vessel, she wasn’t worried. Alys Fairweather had never been afraid of the sea.

Her father had sent her out on this mission on her own. As this was the first time she’d ever piloted a sub without his careful gaze upon her, she knew this was an important mission to do well. If she was lucky, then she’d be the person to scout out the next area for their cities to be built.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she glanced back at the mountain that had already spewed lava from its top. The volcanos were angry today, and soon the sky would be swallowed by dark ash. It was best if she got back underneath the water.

And yet…

She watched the billowing cloud extend toward her through the air. The madness of excitement coursed through her veins and she stood there, staring down death itself for a few more moments before disappearing into the sub. The top clanged shut behind her, and a small giggle of elation escaped her lips.

She shouldn’t toy with nature like that. Her father would be horrified to know she was taking so many risks when he had taught her to be careful in every way possible. Especially under the sea.

Sliding into her seat, she buckled herself in as the world went dark. Volcanic ash blocked the sun completely, which meant soon the water temperatures around her would rise.

The sharp click of her seatbelt echoed in the small sub. It was little more than a bubble. Just a circle that was filled with endless equipment and tools. There were hundreds of buttons on the walls, gauges and meters for every possible element she could control.

The front of the sub was made out of very thick glass. And the entirety of the ocean was laid out before her, like there was nothing standing in her way. She was in a pristine submarine that was made to survive almost any circumstance. Other than a small chip on the top right of the circular dome, but that had been a mistake when she’d been first learning how to drive this.

She was better now. And certainly didn’t run into that many rocks.

Grabbing the two control sticks in front of her, one for speed and one for direction, she plunged into the darkness of the sea. The lights on the front of her submarine helped guide her sometimes, but most of the time, it was just pure darkness down here.

Those were her favorite spots. Her father always scolded her about it, saying that she was a reckless young woman who would find herself sunk at the bottom of the sea if she wasn’t careful. But she lived for moments when all the world fell away and it was just her and the ocean.

Sometimes she got lucky, and there were deep-sea creatures that appeared in her lights. Giant squid. Whales. Strange fish with lights attached to their heads or bioluminescent bodies that glowed the moment they realized there could be a predator in their midst.

But today was not one of those days. She couldn’t go into the depths of the ocean just to see how deep the structural integrity of her ship could take. She had to zip through the waters, farther and farther away from what she knew to be her home.

Leaning forward, she flicked a red switch that opened up the communication channel with her favorite droid friend. “Hello there, Beta Epsilon Iota.”

“Good morning, Alys.”

“Is it morning still?” She twisted one of the controllers, curving the sub around a pillar of stone, perhaps a little too quickly. A few panels in front of her flashed red, then calmed back down once she righted the sub.

“Your father has always said you are reckless in steering,” the droid grumbled. “I am certain anyone else would also agree with him.”

“I’m not reckless,” she said with a laugh, tilting the sub at another dangerous angle that flashed more red throughout the inner pod. “I’m just faster than other people. I know the limits of the machine.”

“And how much whale oil is left?”

Alys wasn’t sure about that. There were solar panels on the top of the sub that she usually relied on if she ran out of fuel. Of course… There was no sun today.

“Damn it,” she muttered. “How much farther do I have?”

“Approximately three miles.”

“And how far are we from Alpha?”

The droid paused for dramatics. “Sixteen.”

She dropped her hands from the controllers and let the sub slow to a halt. “Fuck.”

“That is not a lady-like word.”

“Beta…” She squeezed her eyes shut and reminded herself that the droid was here to help her. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“It’s your mission. I am not to interfere.”

She was going to open the panel the droid was stored in and rip it out. Just so she could maybe toss it into the ocean for a little while, so it would have to get home on its own.

But then she would be alone in the ocean, and she wasn’t certain she wanted to deal with that either. Sighing, she thumped her head against the back of the stiff seat. “So, what do you suggest?”

“Charging the batteries with solar energy, while we use the rest of the whale oil to maintain life support.”

“Right.” That was the logical step. Not to push her luck and see just how far she could go before the air started getting really thin.

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned forward to guide them to a spot that was a little more safe. It wasn’t that she was reckless or too young to be doing this. Alys just lived a very quiet life outside of this submarine and every time she got in it she got a little… well. Reckless.

Soon enough, she found soft sand to put the submarine down in. There was a small kelp forest nearby, and they were close enough to the surface for the sun’s rays to reach her ship, and also for her to swim up if life support went down. At the very least, she could breathe ashy air for a while and tread water.

Maybe Beta realized what she was doing. “You can’t breathe the air up there, Alys. It will burn your lungs.”

“Better a good lung burning than dying without oxygen down here.” Unbuckling herself, she leaned the chair back so she could at least relax while she was down here.

Besides, she had the best view on the planet right now.

Small schools of brightly colored fish swam through the kelp. A seal even turned to look at her, those big black eyes seeing so much. She scooted closer to watch all the plants and animals burst to life.

It took a while. Even she wasn’t surprised by that. The sub landing had stirred up dust and sand, so it was hard to see them, anyway. But at the arrival of some kind of giant creature in their midst, everything always hid.

Soon, creatures bloomed like a flower. First, it was the schools of fish, those who were used to larger animals in their midst. Then the crustaceans dug out of the sand where they had hid, returning to finding their food in the thin dust and sand. Then a few turtles even swam before the lights of her submarine.

Beta clinked in its panel. “You should turn the lights off, Miss Alys. You’re wasting energy.”

“You want me to sit in the dark?” she snorted. “I’m not going to miss a second of this.”

The ash would eventually settle. She had Beta send a message to her father to let him know she had gotten stuck, but that she’d return once the sub charged up again. It must not have been too much of a surprise for her father, because he didn’t reply with anything other than a single word.

“Okay.”

No one could say her father didn’t trust her, at least.

She must have dozed off for a little while, because the lights were off when she snapped back awake. Alys shook her head, blinking the grit out of her eyes as she tried to figure out why she had woken at all.

Rubbing the headache between her eyes, she sat up and let her boots thud onto the floor. Her pants were wet, somehow. And when she looked up, she could see the hatch was dripping in the dim blue interior lights. Damn it. A leak?

“The last thing I need,” she muttered, standing up to press her finger against the leak. Not a bad one, by any means. But it did mean the hull wasn’t as sturdy as she’d originally thought.

This was fine. She could fix this. They had a welder in here somewhere, and if she had to seal herself inside the sub until she could get home, then that was fine.

“Beta?” she asked, turning to rummage through one of the storage containers. “Do you know where I put the welder?”

“Miss Alys, I don’t think we’re alone anymore.”

“Very funny. Did Dad send someone to find me, after all?” She yanked out what felt like a welder, but ended up being the broken end of a screwdriver. “Damn it.”

“Alys!” Beta’s voice was a little harsher this time. “Turn around.”

Sighing, she had a whole rant on the tip of her tongue to scold the droid for trying to scare her, but then all the words disappeared the moment the droid turned on the lights outside of the pod.

A man floated outside of her sub.

No, not a man.

Something else entirely.

His long, dark hair hovered around his head, graceful and delicate in comparison to the hard swath of muscles that tapered down from his broad shoulders to a very narrow waist. But that was all that looked human. She could see the delicate webs between his fingers that ended in deadly black claws. The gills that fluttered on the side of his neck and the bright green scales that created a tiger stripe pattern all down his body. It was…

What was he?

“Beta,” she whispered. “Have we documented any creatures such as this?”

“No.”

So she was the first.

His eyes followed her movement as she approached the glass. Startlingly, they were entirely black. Not a single hint of white or color at all. Just pitch black, demon eyes. But she couldn’t find it in herself to be frightened of this creature on the other side of her submarine. Even though she knew the structural integrity was compromised.

She’d seen nothing like him before, and that made her heart thunder in her chest. She wanted to touch him. To talk to him. To do anything that would make him seem more real.

“My father used to tell me stories about the people who lived in the sea,” she whispered, drawing ever closer to the glass. “He said the women were so beautiful it made your eyes hurt to look at them. I didn’t realize it would extend to the men as well.”

“Creatures?” Beta asked, flicking a few more of the exterior lights on. “What kind of creatures?”

“Undines,” she replied. “At least, that’s what the myths called them. They were men and women who lived under the water, stealing sailors away from their family to lock them away in underwater cities.”

“Please tell me you’re not entertaining that thought,” Beta grumbled.

She was.

Oh, she absolutely was.

Finally, she was right in front of the glass. Leaning over the console so she was just a thick layer of protection away from him. If he came any closer, she’d been able to count the scales that dotted down his sides and lingered around his ribs. She might even be able to see how many layers of gills fluttered down his neck and connected to his ears.

He floated closer, flicking a massive tail that she realized actually went around her ship. A faint tapping from above had her turning her gaze up to see the faint outline of his tail that draped over the top of her submarine.

“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re massive, aren’t you?”

The diamond shaped tail tapped again, and she reached out her hand to touch the glass underneath it. Though it flinched the moment she reached for it, eventually the tail laid flat. She couldn’t touch it, or feel it, but she could see the powerful muscles and the delicate veins that spider-webbed through it.

The undine, as she was calling it, had used this opportunity to come ever closer to her. By the time she turned her attention back to him, she realized he was right there. So close she could have touched him if there wasn’t glass between them.

Her lips parted on a gasp as she stared into those black eyes. He didn’t seem to want to hurt her. In fact, she would hazard a guess that he was just as interested in her as she was him.

Carefully, slowly, the creature lifted his hand and pressed it against the glass of the submarine. His hand was as large as her head, huge and foreboding, with those giant claws at the end of it. If he wanted to rip into her, he easily could. He could tear her into little pieces and then leave her to bleed out in the ocean.

But she didn’t think he would. It was a deep, gut feeling that he didn’t want to harm her. He just wanted to know what she was.

Reaching out, she mirrored his movement and laid her hand against his palm. Though the glass was cool, she could almost imagine the texture of his skin and the smoothness of those webs. He was… Everything. Beautiful. Strange. Unusual.

A creature no one in her world had ever seen before.

“Who are you?” she whispered, freezing when his gaze locked on her lips. “Do you speak?”

He opened his mouth and let out a sound like the song of a whale. Long and low, it vibrated through the very glass and settled deep into her stomach. This strange creature was more attractive than any man she’d ever met.

Maybe it was because he was new. Maybe it was because she’d never thought to see a creature appear out of a fairytale. Or maybe it was simply the deep hollows between his abs and the strong shoulders that flexed underneath her gaze. She didn’t know.

What Alys did know was that she wanted this creature. More than she’d ever wanted any other man.

Licking her lips, she tried to get control over her emotions by saying, “My name is Alys. What’s yours?”

The ship flickered, lights coming back on. Red panels started blinking all over and the ship itself gave a rumble as the power turned back on.

The undine in front of her bared his teeth, a sudden flash of sharp edges and flesh tearing fangs before he darted away from the ship. That massive, powerful tail sent him careening into the kelp forest and disappearing all in the span of one breath.

Her knees wobbled, and suddenly Alys realized she was rather shaky. Every part of her body quivered as she slumped into her seat and blew out a long breath. “Beta?”

“Alys?”

“What’s the report?”

“Most of the systems are offline, but if you activate the emergency protocol, it will bring us back to the base while maintaining life support.”

“Okay.” Her eyes stayed glued to the glass and the spot where the undine had disappeared. “Activate emergency protocol.”

Chapter

Two

Flicking his tail, Imber darted through the waves and crested the surface. Flinging himself into the warm air, he rotated mid leap before splashing back into the waves again. There was much to celebrate today. Namely, his sister was to become a mother. Already, the entire pod was waiting with her. They gathered around the beauty of her extended belly and sang the songs of the ancients.

She would continue their bloodline with her birth. A miraculous thing, considering she was the only sister he had. Imber had come from a smaller family. His mother had difficulty with each pregnancy, and she’d only had the two of them survive. So to see his line continue in his sister’s name? Ah, it made his entire body feel light.

Males were not allowed to attend the ceremony, of course. This was women’s work, and the matriarch would allow them to see the babe when she was ready. And when his sister was ready too, of course.

He just… He couldn’t wait to see the new life. It had been a long time since his pod had a child to dote on, and now they would all have a new baby to spoil rotten.

Perhaps he would bring the child a seashell from the far off hunting grounds. If his lovely sister had a daughter, then they would need abalone to create the perfect comb for her hair.

But, as was often these days, any time his mind went to adventure, it also went to the new creature he had discovered only a week ago.

A woman, he reminded himself. It had spoken.

They’d seen her kind before. The achromos, they called them. Because all the creatures that came into their sea were so… colorless as she had been. Pale skin, pale eyes, pale hair. There was nothing on her body that even suggested she had color at all. Just like the inside of a clam. Disgusting, really, but he had found this one rather… pretty.

In her own way, of course. She wasn’t the beauty like the large females of their pod. He was supposed to be attracted to creatures that were infinitely larger than him. Massive females that would coil with him when they wanted a child. Someday, he would do the same thing that his sister’s mate had done. Although, he hoped he survived the mating, unlike his sister’s chosen.

There was something rather magical about seeing a female that was smaller than him. First, he had thought it was a child. Surely something so small would not be full grown.

But then he’d realized there was no one else in the strange circular shell. It was just her, and another voice that seemed to come out of the walls of the strange contraption. Which meant she couldn’t be a child. No one would send a child on a mission out into the ocean alone, not even her kind.

So he’d gone a little closer, wrapped his tail around it to keep the small shell in place while he watched her movements. She’d even spoken to him a few times, at least attempting to converse, and he didn’t… well. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.

Imber hadn’t told any of his pod what he’d found. How could he? They would want to hunt her down, to see what this strange creature was who had captivated him. And though he was more than happy to help his pod in any way that he needed to, he didn’t want to share this new secret just yet.

Which was why he had gone back to the kelp grove for multiple days in a row. And why he found himself in the same place, just like every other day. What if she came back? What if he got the chance to speak with her again?

He wasn’t even sure what he would say. Should he tell her what he was? That he was one of the People of Water, and that there were many just like him? What if she wanted to discover his world?

Excitement zinged down his spine as he moved some of the kelp out of his way. The green bioluminescence of his body lit up like a beacon, casting a green glow upon the surrounding kelp. Somehow, he knew today was the day that he would see her again. There were too many good omens for her to not be here.

To his utter delight, the first thing he saw when he pushed aside the kelp was that strange shell that she rode in. It was lying against the sand again, although the dust had long since settled and there were more creatures swimming around it. Even the fish wanted to know what it was that had entered their home.

Gliding through the water, he approached the glass front. Peering into the shadows, he realized she wasn’t inside of it. How? He had no idea. Surely it wasn’t possible for her to leave the shell? Was it?

Arcing up over the top, he realized there was a way into the pod. Although it was currently filled with water and then sealed again, it appeared there was a way for her to exit without flooding the entire space. And a small tube came out of the top, trailing out with plenty of slack.

“A tube?” he muttered, picking it up in his hands and giving it a small squeeze. “Flexible, but… for what reason?”

Was this how she ate? Was the shell itself actually the creature she served, and she was just the bait to draw things back into the shell for food?

Horrified at the mere thought, he told himself to get a grip. She was not some mythical creature who served a giant metal god. He had seen her kind many times before, and they were individual creatures that were intelligent enough to create something like this shell. Not the other way around.

Still, he hesitantly trailed the strange tube through the kelp forest. The last thing he needed was to die on the day his sister gave birth. They’d call his spirit to them just so they could yell at him for being such an idiot on a special day.

Frowning, he picked up the tube again in his hand and felt it loosely drawing through his fingers. Surely she was close… ah. There. He brushed the kelp aside to see her floating above a large rocky outcropping, staring down into the sheer drop off that continued on for hundreds and hundreds of meters. That was the very bottom of the ocean down that drop off, although he doubted she had any way of knowing that.

Carefully, so he didn’t surprise her, he tugged on the tube. It was connected to something she wore around her face, and he had no idea how it was helping her. The achromos that he’d seen before couldn’t breathe underwater.

Without looking behind her, she tugged back.

Again, he tugged. Insistent that she look at him so he didn’t have to swim right up to her and scare her into the abyss. “Achromo,” he said quietly, although he knew his voice could be booming in the water. “What are you doing?”

She let out a shriek that would rival the killer whales that ruled this area of the ocean. The sound made his ears hurt so badly that he lifted his hands to cover them, but that also meant he tugged harder on the tube. She shrieked again, this time dragged closer by his movements as she desperately hung onto the thing attached to her head.

Why did that matter?

She was screaming so loud he was going to lose his ability to hear, and all she could do was hang onto that stupid tube going to her…

Suddenly the achromo catapulted toward him. He hadn’t realized she could move quite so fast, or he would have put more distance between the two of them. He braced himself, flaring his fins wide to prepare for her attack. Imber was much larger than her, and he would hurt her if he had to. Didn’t she see his claws? Hadn’t she seen his fangs when he’d bared them in surprise after her shell suddenly came to life?

She hit him hard. Harder than he’d expected for someone so small. And in that moment, he realized two very startling things. First, she had two tails. Two bony, horrible feeling tails that wrapped around him like a crab grabbing onto its prey. The second was that she was so very soft.

He planted his hand against her back, his claws ready to rend her flesh from her bone and leave her bleeding out on the ground. But he hesitated when she did nothing other than cling to him, her form so warm against his usually cool skin. Those tails held him in place as she reached for his wrists.

He thought perhaps she wished to speak with him, but that wasn’t what she was doing. Instead, she drew the tube out of his hand and let it drift in the water beside them.

She was so close. Closer than he’d ever anticipated getting to one of her kind. White surrounded the pale blue of her eyes. All those golden curls billowed around her head, creating a terrible tangle of curls and coils that would be nearly impossible to brush out. But his gaze caught on the soft swells of her cheeks, the paleness of her lips that he remembered being much darker. And the wide eyes that stared directly into his own, as though she were overwhelmed with what she saw.

Garbled sounds came out of her mouth, and though he had no idea what she was saying, he could guess.

“I’m sorry to have startled you.” And because he couldn’t not touch her—what man had such inner strength?—he lifted his hand to brush a strand of her hair aside. “I was trying not to.”

She seemed to freeze in his arms as he touched her. Growing bolder now, he let the back of his nail drag down the plushness of her cheek. She shivered, and he couldn’t tell if that was from fear or something else entirely.

Some small whisper in his mind hoped it was something else. He hoped she didn’t see him as some monstrous creature who had risen out of the depths to tear her away from life itself. He wanted to… He wasn’t sure what he wanted, really. Anything dancing through his mind right now must be an abomination and he should never be thinking it.

He just wanted. Her attention, her gaze, her.

Everything always seemed to boil down to this magical creature who shouldn’t be here and yet, here she was.

“Where did you come from?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. “You seem to have appeared out of thin air, achromo.”

Curious little thing. Though her strange tails still gripped him around the waist with surprising strength, she used her web free hands to touch him. First she hovered just over his forehead, watching his movements with wide eyes, as though she was afraid he would tell her no.

He didn’t. How could he? The first moment those warm fingertips trailed twin lines down his forehead, to his temples, and then just barely over his gills, he knew he was a goner.

No one touched him so gently. Not even his mother. He was a creature made to hunt and kill, that was all. Their kind were brutal to live in the waters that tried to kill them. Gentleness wasn’t in their nature.

Perhaps, if he was lucky, he would find himself a mate who knew how to control herself during a mating. She might not kill him, and then he could be gentle with his own child.

Imber had never hoped to feel a female touch him like this. He hadn’t even known it existed.

Groaning, he tilted his head back and let her bury her fingers in his hair. She seemed particularly interested in the gills at his neck and also the texture of the long strands of his hair.

Surely she didn’t know the intimacy with which she touched him. How would she know that every stroke along his body was telling him that he should prepare himself for mating? That she wanted him. Needed him. Desired him.

Another low groan echoed through his entire chest, and he felt the gills along his ribs begin to flutter. The choked sound that came out of her at the movement was intriguing. Cracking open an eye, he drew in a deep breath of a scent that fascinated him. It was coming from her.

Maybe she really was touching him to prepare him to mate with her.

Suddenly, the pale one untangled herself from his body. She lunged away from him, moving those short, useless tails until there was space between them. Space for both of them to breathe, which he realized he desperately needed to do.

His scales had clasped onto her scent, he realized with horror. His body wanted to keep her on him so that all others would know that he was entertaining a female.

The pod would know.

His family would know that he’d seen a female and covered himself in her scent. What a fool he was! He couldn’t afford this, not when he was already struggling to find a mate of his own. He didn’t…

By all the gods of the sea, she was pretty.

With her hair all spiraled around her head like that, he could easily see how red her cheeks had become. She turned different shades of lovely mottled red, and he had never thought her kind could do that.

“If you’re interested in me,” he started, trying hard to clear his throat and not sound too eager, “We may perhaps speak of this, achromo. I do not know your kind, nor have I ever considered trying to see what is possible between our species. But I am willing to try if you are.”

She had no way of understanding him, but he thought perhaps he had startled her. She said nothing in return, not that he could understand her either. But as she swam by him, making sure he didn’t move as she passed by, she reached out and trailed her fingers along his shoulder. He reached for her, spinning only his torso as she let her fingers glide along the entire length of his arm.

And oh, her scent hadn’t changed. That musky, delicious scent made his mouth water as she gathered up the tube in her arms and swam away from him. It was slow going, and she used her hands to pull herself faster.

A mate like her would be difficult to keep safe. She was so small, and clearly couldn’t fight for herself. She wasn’t cut out to live in the ocean either, although he knew that was a silly thing to even consider.

But as he swam behind her, keeping out of her line of sight so she thought she was fleeing from him, he could still smell her need. Her desire. And he knew without a doubt she would be back.

This time, he would be ready for her.

Chapter

Three

Perhaps she’d lost her mind. That was the only thought that brought Alys back to the same kelp forest every single week. Then it became twice a week. Multiple times a week. Almost every day.

Her father was going to realize soon that she wasn’t researching the area. He was a shrewd man with an eye for her habits, and she knew that sooner or later she’d have to answer to him. But right now, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Stalling the submarine in the same spot where she had been leaving it for days on end, she waited while holding her breath. Her eyes locked on the kelp in front of her, every muscle in her body seized as she waited.

“This is getting ridiculous,” her droid muttered inside the wall. “Eventually you’re going to have to do something other than stare at him.”

“I’m not staring at him,” she replied. “I’m waiting for him.”

“Sure looks like staring to me.”

They couldn’t even speak with each other, but that didn’t matter to Alys. They talked in other ways. Hand gestures, heart felt looks. She knew without a doubt that he found her as interesting as she found him. And together, they were discovering so much about each other’s species.

As far as she knew, no other human had seen a species like his. Sure, there were plenty of creatures in the ocean they knew very little about. Fish and crabs and wild looking octopi, those were all being discovered by countless droids that were assigned to certain scientists. But had anyone made contact with a species that had a language and emotions and… looked so eerily human when they felt strong emotions?

The kelp parted around a darkened hand, the flash of green scales already letting her know that he was here for her. The grin on her face almost hurt as she bolted toward the hatch above her.

Alys had made sure to wear something pretty today. Usually she wore clothing that was practical for swimming. She chose tight-fitting pants and wetsuits that allowed her to at the very least be warm. But the water here was already warmer.

The volcanoes had finally stopped their madness, which meant she could easily swim in this water because everything was still pretty warm. At least she wasn’t boiling or freezing. She’d take it.

So today, she’d worn a dress. A bright blue dress with a tight bodice and many layers of skirts that she knew would billow around her prettily in the water. She wanted to see what he thought about a dress. She wanted to feel… pretty to him.

Because he was so thoroughly intriguing to her.

Placing her goggles and air over her mouth, she made sure the door beneath her was sealed into the more electronic parts of the sub and then opened the final hatch. The water rushed in so quickly she had to brace herself against the wall with all her limbs.

But this time, a strong arm reached in with it and drew her out with ease. When he did things like that, it always made her breathless.

He was so strong. Alys didn’t need to see him draw her out of the submarine, as though the suction in that room wasn’t enough to send her careening back into the sub. She could see it in the rippling muscles of his shoulders and the way his chest flexed. She could see it in the anchoring of his tail around her ship and how easily he tugged her against his heart.

He was…

She didn’t have words for it. She wished she did.

Alys shook her head. Her palms pressed against his cool chest when she realized for all the time that they had been together, they’d only been experiencing his world. He’d taken her swimming and taught her how to swim better and faster. He had brought her seashells and fish from the depths of the sea. They had laughed at each other’s antics, but she’d never asked his name.

Reaching for his face, she trailed a single finger down his forehead, cheek, to his jaw. She was so comfortable touching him, when she’d never been comfortable touching anyone else like this. Not a human, that was for certain.

“What is your name?” she asked, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.

He arched a dark brow, that devastatingly handsome face wrinkling with confusion.

Swallowing, she touched a finger to her forehead. “Alys.” Then she tapped his forehead.

He didn’t seem to understand what she was asking, so she did it a few more times. Never saying anything other than her name. Then suddenly she could see the realization dawn on him. His eyes widened, his lips parted in sudden shock.

“Alys,” he repeated, that low voice singing the word. She’d never heard the sound of her own name be so beautiful.

Reaching up between them, he traced her jaw with a long claw. “Alys,” he said again, then rumbled a word that she would never forget. “Imber.”

“Is that your name?” she breathed. “Imber?”

His entire face brightened with the word as she said it, and she knew she was right. His name was Imber, and it was such a strange name for a man so large and dangerous.

Yet, he was still holding onto her. Sinking away from the sub and allowing the current to gently nudge them toward the kelp. He relaxed, allowing his body to almost lay flat in the water as she sat draped on top of him.

Naturally, her legs fell to either side of his body. Naturally, she wanted him.

Maybe it made her some kind of deviant. She didn’t know anyone else who would see a monster from the depths and find him attractive, but she was lost in him. In the hard angles of his features, the blackness of his eyes, and the green scales that abraded her palms as she slid them down his chest, ribs, and sides.

Everywhere she touched him felt like molten metal. Or maybe it just made her hot to touch him. There was definitely something wrong with her.

And yet, sometimes she looked at his eyes and saw an answering flash of interest. As though he knew what was going through her mind every time she dragged her fingers down his sides. Every time she had the opportunity to drape herself over his chest just like this.

He knew. He had to know.

Somehow, she wasn’t embarrassed by that knowledge, either. She was so happy that he was with her, and that made all the difference.

Sighing, she rested her head as comfortably as she could against his chest. The tube got in the way, and the mouthpiece wasn’t all that comfortable to wear when she was touching something else. But it felt right to lie against him and just… be.

“Did you bring me anything to see today?” she asked, drawing a pattern on his pectorals as they finally reached the kelp forest. “You usually bring me some interesting things from the depths.”

As if he understood what she was asking, he reached underneath them to draw out a small bag he must have left in the kelp forest. He popped it onto his chest, as if he also knew that she didn’t want to move from where she was. At least, not yet.

She straddled him, sitting up on his abs so she could rip into the bag without ever having to stop touching him.

Healthy? No. This entire relationship would likely end in one of them dying. She’d either drown, or he would accidentally kill her. That’s what her father would say, at the very least. But for now, she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she was straddling a very dangerous creature, or that he was rubbing his hands up and down her thighs as she pulled the bag open.

Inside was the most beautiful shell she’d ever seen. Abalone, she thought it was called, but it was every color of the rainbow. It had been meticulously carved into the image of what looked like a wave. A swell that crested into the white exterior of the shell and then dove into swirling patterns of water.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, although her attention was certainly pulled away from it when his hands squeezed the meat of her thighs. He shouldn’t do that. He shouldn’t toy with fate.

They were two different species. And while he was clearly intelligent, a creature who was very much capable of learning and emotion and all the other things that made her human… How would they fit?

Alys knew without a doubt she flirted with going against nature as she looked down into his pleased gaze. But she supposed it didn’t really matter in the end.

She was here. He was underneath her, and she had never been so thankful for anyone before. He looked at her like actually saw her. She wasn’t the daughter of an inventor who had changed the lifespan of humans across the globe. She wasn’t the girl who had to live up to her father’s impressive deeds.

Imber looked at her and he saw Alys. The daredevil who perhaps took a few too many risks, but who wanted the world to see her as someone other than the girl who lived in her father’s shadow.

He touched a finger to the carving and then tapped his claw to her forehead. As if trying to tell her something.

“This is for me?” she curled her hand around it and mimed like she was going to put it in her pocket.

A deep thrum started in his chest. He slid his hand with hers inside her pocket, the backs of his fingers brushing against her hip bone. But then he said something else, his eyes intense. Sliding his hand out of her pocket, he dragged his fingers through her skirts and then flattened his hand above her chest. Above her heart.

As if…

“Is the carving supposed to be me?” she asked. Tapping her hands against her chest, she said, “Alys?”

He touched the carving in her pocket and gently patted his hand over her heart at the same time. “Alys.” Then he said another word. Maybe two, she didn’t know.

All she understood was that he saw her like he saw the sea itself.

A thud made her chest hurt. Then another. Then she realized that something inside of her was screaming to get out, because he saw her like the sea. He saw her as some goddess who had walked into his life, a wave that crashed down upon him and he wasn’t afraid of that.

Imber did not fear the wildness in her or the risks she took. He saw her as the mad woman who so many people disliked in her community because of her adventurous personality, and he enjoyed it.

This undine had carved her a message. Her wildness did not scare him, and he admired her for it.

Something snapped inside her. She ripped the mouthpiece off her face and kissed him. She didn’t care that she couldn’t breathe, or that she might not be able to reattach the mouth piece in time. Right now, the risk was worth kissing him.

He stilled at her movement, seemingly surprised at what she was doing. And maybe his people didn’t kiss, but the moment she moved her mouth against his, her tongue sliding against his lips, he seemed to get it.

A low growl rumbled through his chest. Those gills on his ribs rippled against her inner thighs, and then his arms snapped around her. He dragged her tightly against him, almost crushing her against his chest as his lips parted and he devoured her.

Teeth and tongue, licking and biting as he learned the taste of her. The sensation of her mouth against his. Who needed air when she could simply breathe him in?

Eventually, the need to breathe made her entire body spasm. She wanted air, but she also wanted to keep kissing him, and what a cruel world it was that she couldn’t. She wanted to touch him, hold him, make him more hers with every moment.

His claws dug into her thighs, and she could feel the indentations of his hands against her skin. She knew she would have marks there later. That when she was alone later tonight, she would pull her skirts up to see the tiny pinpricks of blood, and it would make her even more excited than she was now. She would…

Again her body spasmed, this time her heart thudding awkwardly in addition as it warned her there were only so many more seconds before she would breathe in water and start to drown.

But then he reached up between them. His hand glided along her side, his fingers skimming over her breast and up her throat. She arched into him, even if it meant that she was taking precious moments away from when she should be slamming that mouth piece over her mouth.

He… pinched her nose?

And then he exhaled.

Oh.

Her lungs filled with air that he breathed into her mouth, and she greedily sucked it down. Every exhale he gave her was a few more moments when she could keep tasting him. Moments when she could dig her own hands into the muscles of his shoulders, leaving the little half moons against his skin as she begged him to keep breathing. To prolong this moment.

She didn’t know how long they kissed. She had no way of knowing the passage of time, only that eventually she had to stop making out with him like a teenager because another loud booming noise echoed through the ocean.

It sounded fairly similar to how he spoke, although it was not a word she was used to hearing. Or perhaps it was another language, but one he understood.

He stiffened underneath her and pulled their lips away. Without even looking at her, he placed her mouthpiece over her face.

Apparently, everything was done. Considering how tense he was underneath her thighs, she had a feeling that was for good reason. Already he’d flicked his tail, moving, so she was clinging to him rather than lying on top of him. They were moving back toward the sub. She struggled to fit the mouth piece over her face correctly, and there was some water in it around her chin, but she exhaled the last of the air out of her lungs and gave herself a small bubble from which she could breathe.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyes wide as he handed her up to the top of the sub where she usually entered.

His hands flexed around her waist, and she let herself believe he didn’t want to let her go. Even his gaze said that as he looked at her, those dark eyes conveying so much that she hoped she was reading correctly.

But then he moved to put her inside the sub, and she knew her time was up.

“I’m going,” she mumbled, then reached out to trail her fingers over his lips. “This was…”

He said something, and whatever it was, she took it to heart. That he didn’t want her to go. That this was a life-changing experience for both of them and he was thanking her for everything that had happened.

Or something along those lines.

He flicked his tail, disappearing into the kelp, and left her to get back inside the sub. She buckled herself in, soaking wet and likely ruining some of the functions. Of course, Beta had a lot to say about that, but she didn’t listen to the little droid.

Alys was in her own world. Even as she docked the sub above ground at the port where she and her father kept their submarines and ships. She didn’t even notice that she’d walked through the hall to the kitchen, leaving wet footprints in her wake.

She didn’t notice that her father was sitting at the kitchen island, waiting for her, until she heard his guttural tones.

“Where have you been, Alys?”

Chapter

Four

Just because she hadn’t been here for a few days didn’t mean she no longer wished to see him.

At least, that’s what he told himself every day he showed up in their grove and she wasn’t there.

He wasn’t a fool. Imber knew whatever was between them was risky. Alys was one of the achromos, and he was one of the People of Water. He didn’t even know how they would make this relationship work. She couldn’t breathe underwater. He couldn’t live on the land. They were the sun and the sea, trying very hard to make something work between the two of them, but knowing that eventually, they had to part.

The moon always rose on the horizon, and the sun always set. No matter how hard the waves tried to chase the sun.

Was it so terrible that he wished to try? He would chase her throughout all the nights of his life. Waiting for the briefest hint of her sunshine, because she made him feel so much better than he did in the pod.

Even the day when his sister, Virago, found him, he had thought to show Alys to his sister. Perhaps his sister would understand his feelings, because she had gone for a much smaller male than the others who had fought for her attention. She wasn’t like the other people in their pod. Surely she would realize he’d made a connection with someone without knowing how to stop himself.

But he hadn’t been able to put her at risk. His Alys was so tiny, so gentle. Virago would take one look at her and tell him that she wasn’t worth being a partner to anyone. Alys wouldn’t make strong children, nor could she protect them.

And yet, he still wanted to be the one to help her through it. He still wanted to be the one who defied the odds and protected his children for the both of them. He wanted… her.

A future with her. A life that was filled with the sound of her giggles and the soft touch of her hair stroking against his chest.

He wanted to feel her in his life. To know that every time he returned home, she was waiting for him there. It was an impossible future and yet, he would do anything to have it.

He gathered up his newest gift to give her. He’d been working on finding pearls inside of clams that they usually used for feasts. The clams were all too happy to get the granule of sand out of their shells, and he knew the tricks to getting them out without killing the animal. At least, until they needed them for a feast.

As it was, he had a handful of pearls that he’d woven with the strands they gathered from the thin ocean weeds. But he feared that it wouldn’t last long out of the sea. He’d never tried to see what happened to the seagrass when it was dried out. They had no reason to keep anything dry underwater.

But his Alys always seemed to arrive to him dry, and then quickly jumped into the water. He’d noticed that she started coating her hair with something every time she got into the water. It meant her curls that he was so fascinated with were rarely on display anymore.

How frustrating it was that he couldn’t talk to her and ask about all the things that piqued his curiosity.

“Brother.” The voice made him pause on the edge of their pod home. They were a shallow water tribe, unlike many of his people who lived in the deep depths of the sea. As such, most of their homes were very easy to see into. They all gathered stones and made swirling patterns dug into the sand, like fish nests. Yet sometimes they had coverings over the top, for a sense of privacy.

He, unfortunately, did not have such a barrier.

Glancing up toward the surface, he saw his sister hovering above him. She looked so much like him, although nearly twice as large. Strong shoulders, strong arms, her hair cropped close to her skull. But their scales were the same color, the same vibrant green that graced his belly, also speckled along hers. Even their fin shapes were the same, diamond and ragged as they aged and the thin membranes slowly ripped. Her belly was still slightly bloated after having the child weeks ago, and she kept her daughter wrapped up in thick kelp weeds so the child was tied to her hip at all times.

Otherwise, his little niece was apt to get in trouble. She’d already slipped away more times than any of them could count. Even now, the little one was wriggling her tail, trying to get out of the slippery kelp so she could launch herself into Imber’s arms.

He tried very hard not to smile and nodded at the child. “You’re going to lose her again.”

“Oh for…” His sister muttered curses underneath her breath, mostly all aimed at the child’s father before scooping her up in her arms and holding onto the child firmly. “I’m going to start tethering her tail to me. You know she inherited this behavior from her father.”

“Most likely.”

“She needs to calm down. Maybe once we name her, she’ll be able to fit better into the life she’s supposed to live.” Virago lifted her child up to her face, frowning at the giggling baby. “Enough, for once. I need to speak with your uncle.”

The baby gurgled a bit, but eventually quieted down.

Virago sighed, as though soaking in the silence for a few moments before she tied her daughter back to her hip. “Where have you been disappearing to everyday?”

“I’ve been seeking out new hunting grounds.”

“Yes, there are many who might believe that, but not me, brother.” The glare on her face told him that she didn’t even remotely trust that he was telling the truth. “If you’re going to tell anyone, you might as well tell me.”

He sighed, raking his claws through his hair. “I have met… someone.”

“Someone?”

“She is kind and different, Virago. I do not know where it is going at the moment, so I’m just allowing it to play out as it will.” The lie tasted acidic on his tongue.

He knew where he wanted it to go, at the very least. And he knew that the two of them had a connection he’d never seen before with his pod. They were bound, he and Alys, but he didn’t know where that was going to put the two of them.

They had a long way to go before either of them figured that out.

Virago’s eyes trailed along his face, as though she knew what he was struggling with. As though she could read his mind.

“You are being careful?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Then you should be more careful than you are now.” Her eyes narrowed even further. “I know you, brother. I can smell her on your scales when you swim by. You are coating yourself in her scent, and I’m not sure you know what that means.”

“I know what it means.” Imber tried very hard not to bristle at her tone. “I am not a child.”

“No, you are my older brother and yet I am the one always reminding you to not take risks.” She held out her hand for him, drawing him out of his stone nest and up into the ocean with her. Her child grabbed onto one of his hip fins, giving it a rather painful tug.

“Your words come from a place of caring, I know that.” Imber took his time gently unwinding her child’s fingers from his hip fins. “She is different, sister.”

“Then why have we not met her yet?”

Because she was an achromo. Because she had two tails, and he still hadn’t figured out how they worked yet. Because Alys was nothing like his family, and he feared they would take one look at her and see her as nothing more than a liability.

He swallowed all those words down and instead replied with, “I’m not ready to introduce her to you. But when I am, I will make sure you are the first to meet her.”

Virago reached for the back of his neck, drawing his forehead to hers and sighing. He could feel the current created by the deep breath through her gills, and he was reminded that this was his sister. She loved him, even if she was a little rough around the edges.

Gripping her forearms, he gave her a little squeeze before moving back. “Keep watch over that child of yours. I don’t want to find her at the drop off again.”

Virago rolled her eyes. “It was one time, brother! One time. She hasn’t gone back to the drop off in ages.”

“Days,” he scolded. “Days, Virago.”

“A long time in the mind of a child. She’s long forgotten it even exists.”

He rolled his eyes and sped away, listening to the sound of his sister’s laughter. That child was a wild thing, but he supposed she had gotten that from her mother.

Speeding through the waves, he made his way to their meeting spot with his heart in his throat. He hoped she was there this time. He knew that hope was dangerous, though. Especially after all the disappointment that he’d suffered through the past week. She had no reason to visit him often. Neither of them had made any promises, but he had hoped they had developed something that she could see. Especially after that kiss.

Oh, that kiss had haunted his dreams every night.

Maybe she’d gotten tired of him. But his twin beating hearts raced with the truth that she would never get tired of him. Not that easily.

Something must have happened, and today was the day he would see her again. He was certain of it.

Imber was breathing hard by the time he made it to the kelp grove, but all that breath left his lungs when he saw her sub. It wasn’t settled on the sand as sturdily as normal, either. Little electric waves of nerves burst through his body, lighting up his fins bright green as he noticed that it was almost on its side. Like she’d landed in a hurry.

He frowned, his gaze sweeping to see where she was and if she had been followed. Why else would she have landed like something was wrong? Someone must have tracked her here. Perhaps she was in trouble.

The spines along his back rose, and he could feel his body starting to loosen. Already he could make the slick oil that would cover his skin, giving him even more speed in the water should he need it. Though he was not as large as his sister, he was still a fighter. All of his people were fighters. He could kill anyone who had tracked her to this place, and he would keep her safe.

But her tube of air was out of the shell that she traveled in, so surely she was around here somewhere.

It took a few moments of tracking for him to pick up the air tube and follow her as long as it could go. And there she was. Not smelling of blood or anything else dangerous. She sat on the very edge of the ledge that disappeared into blackness, staring down into the darkness like she was thinking about swimming down and exploring it.

Unlike the first time he’d found her here, he wasn’t so concerned about startling her. Instead, he curved wide around the ledge, diving into the darkness before she could see him.

Then he let all the lights on his body flicker to life. Bright green and emerald, he floated out of the darkness and drifted toward her. He could see her so clearly. The way her eyes widened in surprise and the delighted smile that spread across her face.

He’d done that. Just by showing up in front of her.

“Imber,” she said, his name a breathy whisper as he approached her.

He’d do anything to hear her say his name a hundred times over. And maybe that was moving too fast. Maybe he was immature because he was so obsessed with her.

A part of him feared that all of his interest was wrapped up in her merely because he’d never seen anything like her before in his life. Every day, he worried that the newness of her would wear off. That he would wake and be less interested than he was the day before.

Maybe that day would come. Or maybe his twin hearts in his chest knew something that he did not.

He reached for her, his hands brushing aside the billowing layers of her skirt and drawing her against his chest. She wrapped herself around him so easily, twining her twin tails around his waist and tucking her face into the hollow of his neck. He breathed her into his gills, letting her scent ease the nerves that had plagued him since he’d had to say goodbye the last time.

Running his hands up and down her body, he soothed his worries by feeling that she was all in one piece. She wasn’t injured, and that was good. He could hold on to that.

But she drew back all too soon. Babbling in that language that he couldn’t quite make out. She spoke in such short, clipped words. Like the dull echo of stones clicking against each other, buried beneath the weight of the sea.

Then she thrust something into his hands. A small box made out of the same hard shell as her ship. Frowning, he lifted it up, trying to see what it could be.

“I have a gift for you as well.” He hoped she liked the necklace he had woven. He hoped it wasn’t too big, in fear she might lose it on her ride home.

She was backing away, though. Before he could reach into his bag. Before he could take anything out, she was already moving away from him. Shaking her head as though she didn’t want to listen to him speak.

He held out his hand, frowning, hoping she would reach forward and slip her fingers into his. “Alys.”

Something sparkled in her eyes, and it made him sad to see the expression before she spun and used the rocks below to yank herself away from him.

The box in his hand hummed. “Gift. Speak.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever be able to learn each other’s language,” he muttered before realizing the box had talked.

Horrified, he dropped it.

As it careened down toward the darkness, he had two lightning quick thoughts. First, she’d given him some kind of abomination that could speak. And second, that it was the only gift she’d ever given him and he would be an idiot if he lost it.

Darting after the box, he got lucky when it hit a rocky outcropping before it would have plummeted far beyond his reach. Catching it in his hands, he leaned against the stone wall for a few moments, breathing hard and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I have you,” he said, his voice ragged. “I have you.”

“Gift. Special. Gift. Language.”

He had no idea what it was trying to say.

It was a special gift because she had given it to him, yes. Perhaps she thought they could speak through it, but it clearly knew very little of his language. Lifting it up a little higher, he tried to peer into the faint blue light that emanated from a thin line around the top. “You do not know as much of my language as you think, little friend.”

“Language. Learn.”

“You…” It all hit him at once. “Did she give you to me to learn your language?”

“Yes.”

She was… she was trying to learn how to speak with him. Not a gift, but a tool.

His hearts thundered again, beating against his ribs at the mere thought of speaking with her. He could talk to Alys. Actually talk to her. Listen to what she had done and where she had come from. He could tell her about his own adventures and see her eyes shine with happiness when he told her stories that were so detailed, she would never question the truthfulness of where they came from.

“How?” he asked. “How do you learn my language?”

The blue light glowed a little brighter. “Speak.”

“All I have to do is speak to you?”

Another pulse of blue illuminated the water around them. “Speak,” it repeated.

If that’s all it took, then she had given the right person this box. He would speak until his throat went raw and his gills bled, if it meant he could converse with her.

Chapter

Five

The first conversation with her father about where she had been didn’t go so well. Alys had sat for a very long time, waiting for him to calm down. He had yelled, screamed, even threatened to take away her submarine because she refused to tell him where she had been going.

But she knew better. She would not tell him the secret she had with Imber. Her father wouldn’t understand the man who had found her in the sea. Nor would he care that they had a connection.

All he would see was that there was another person in the ocean. Another creature that would threaten his ability to build wherever he wanted. And though she loved his ability to see the future in a different way… she didn’t want to waste what she had, either.

Imber was a secret she would keep. If that meant she had to stay away from him for weeks on end because her father would surely follow her, then so be it.

She hated staying away from him, though. Life above the sea had already lost its luster long before she met the undine. She was the strange girl. The daughter who had so much responsibility and expectation on her shoulders. And even though she loved her father, more than he would ever know, she also was very aware of his flaws.

Especially lately. She didn’t know how to tell him that she was frightened for him. He’d gotten so lost in his work. Like he could see a future that no one else could, but also that he was fighting for something that might never exist.

He didn’t sleep. He barely ate. He just focused on the project of creating Alpha. The city that would sink beneath the sea and keep all of humanity safe for ages to come.

But that wasn’t entirely right, now was it? Alpha was going to be a beautiful city and humans would live in it for years on end. It was still a city under the sea. It wasn’t life up here. Living as humans were meant to do, in the air with the land underneath their feet.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She packed up her things, making sure there was enough air supply in her ship to get her to the places she needed to go, and enough fuel to get her there and back. She packed an extra set of clothing so no one would be able to ask where she had gone.

And then she wrote a letter, leaving it on her desk in case her father got curious about where his wayward daughter had gone off to. She was not going to get in trouble this time.

“Don’t feel too guilty about lying,” she told herself. “Your father wouldn’t let you go, and really, you are stopping by the dig site along the way, aren’t you?”

Sneaking through the halls, she found herself lingering outside her father’s office.

Alys did that sometimes. She just… stood there. Waiting. Maybe she liked hearing her father’s voice. Or maybe it was just knowing that he was there, on the other side of the door.

But this time, there was another voice as well.

“Listen to me, Fairweather.” The deep voice was almost familiar, although she couldn’t place where she had heard it before. “The city will be built whether we destroy the ecosystem or not. You said it yourself. It will be easier to build if it’s on flat land.”

Her father cleared his throat, and she could sense how uncomfortable he was with the conversation. “Yes, but there is the conversation with the architects we need to uphold. Aesthetic is considered to be one of the greatest things we can do for this build. And aesthetic means that we build it around what is currently there. Alpha is meant to be functional and beautiful. It is a showcase of what the human mind can conjure.”

“And it will be the most heavily fortified city underneath the sea. How are we meant to fortify it without having a clear view of everything around us?”

She knew who spoke this time.

The General.

He had come from a long line of men who had essentially taken control over what was left of humanity. No more presidents or kings or rulers. Just a general with the entire army at his beck and call. There was nothing for them to fight against, so why they needed a general she had never understood. Maybe it was because he could kill anyone who disagreed with him.

Alys hadn’t realized her father was working with this man.

“I understand your primary concern is safety,” her father started, clearly trying to choose his words wisely. “But we need to build a place that is both safe and feels like home. Otherwise, no one will move there.”

“I think you’re underestimating the circumstances. We only have a few more years on land. At best. The volcanoes are erupting more frequently. The storms are getting worse. Soon, all life will be wiped out. If we have nowhere else to go, then those who wish to survive will join us.”

“A few years?” her father choked. “I need far more than that to design a functional city under the sea! This will take a lifetime of work, perhaps even a lifetime more of architects to design something that is safe.”

“You don’t have years, Fairweather. And you have a working design currently. Don’t think I don’t see it. You are afraid that your design isn’t what you think it is, and so you are stalling. I understand fear. I know what you fight against, but the beast must die. Give me the design, and I will have it built in a year.”

“It’s simply not possible. You will destroy too much in doing so.”

“I will destroy whatever I must.”

Heart in her throat, Alys slipped out of the house. She didn’t know where she was running off to. Maybe to him. Probably to him, if she was being honest with herself.

And that was silly. She shouldn’t go to the people whose homes her people were likely going to destroy. She shouldn’t feel so guilty about this, either. Her people had to survive, and they didn’t realize that the undines were there. Right?

Surely they didn’t.

But that pit in her stomach did not loosen. No matter how much distance she put between herself and those men, she couldn’t stop thinking about what they were going to do.

Imber deserved to know. But she didn’t have any way to communicate this with him, and what if he didn’t understand what she wanted him to do? What if he realized that this would destroy his people, or could, and then there was a war that she started?

Panic had long set it by the time she got to their meeting spot. She didn’t even know if he would be there waiting for her. So far, he usually was, but what if she was wrong?

The “what-ifs” turned her inside out. They ripped through her lungs, rioted in her stomach until she thought she might throw up.

“Miss Alys, your heart rate is dangerously high,” Beta said, its voice echoing through the room. “You need to calm down before you go outside. I cannot promise there is enough oxygen in that tube to sustain your current body needs.”

Hyperventilating. Her mind knew what was happening, and yet she was already ripping at the hatch over her head. She didn’t care. She had to get out of this little bubble that her father had made because his touch was all over it.

What was he going to do? Was he really going to go along with this and ruin so much of the sea for… what? Glory? Honor? A legacy that would be forgotten about the moment he died?

“Miss Alys—”

She wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. Yanking the mouthpiece over her face, she slammed the button to close the door. Sealing Beta inside the sub even as she risked opening the top hatch, maybe a hair too soon. She was thrown against the wall of the submarine, her back catching on a piece of metal and searing pain slicing through her spine.

Still, she crawled her way out and blasted into the sea. She swam far above the sub and just let the sea buoy her. She could feel it moving all over her body. The currents gently held onto her, like the warm pressure of a hug. And the sun above her head glittered on a rare day when the sky wasn’t full of ash.

She couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t enough air in the damn tube and her father was going to do something stupid. She couldn’t tell the undines about this, not yet. All of this reaction was maybe just dramatics, and she didn’t actually have to do any of this. Maybe her father would stop it. She had to believe in him.

Cool arms slid around her from behind.

Immediately, all the panic disappeared. It bubbled out of her mouth and suddenly she could breathe again. She could inhale, long and slow. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth as he drew her against his chest and held her safely in the circle of his arms.

“You came,” she whispered, allowing her body to sag against his.

She let her eyes drift closed, allowing him and the current to rock her gently from side to side. Together they hung there, suspended where gravity had no rule on her body. Every now and then, she felt his tail shift between her legs, flicking to keep them afloat.

Finally, she was calm enough to open her eyes and practically liquid in his arms. Like he sensed it, he held something out in front of her.

The box. The copy of Beta that she’d given him. If he was giving it to her then… that had to mean… He touched something to the side of her head, and she knew it was a translation chip. Just like she had told Beta to make before, this box was no longer useful. It would then destroy itself once it had made two translation chips. One for him and one for her.

In awe, she took the box from him as his arm tightened slightly around her waist. He leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Hello, Alys.”

Tears pricked in her eyes.

She could understand him! And those were the first words she heard, just like she would have if they were two people meeting on land. Like they didn’t already have a massive amount of history between the two of them.

Slowly turning in his arms, knowing her eyes were wider than they had ever been before, she licked her lips and watched his mouth. “Say something else.”

“You understand me?”

Words eluded her. Instead, she just nodded, her gaze still on his mouth.

“I don’t know what to say now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Your strange creature gave me a small piece of metal to affix on the side of my head. It was not a comfortable experience.”

“I didn’t even notice it hurting.” Probably because she had been shocked to hear his voice.

And oh, what a voice it was.

Everything in her suddenly fired, hot and wild. The depth of his voice was like watching molten caramel pour. It was deep and luxurious, flowing over her senses with specific words chosen slowly and with intent. She could listen to that melodic voice speak for hours on end. He could read her the dictionary and she would still be thinking how wonderful it was that he was speaking to her.

Looping her arms around his neck, she drew slightly closer to watch him speak. “Again.”

“You have heard me speak before,” he replied with amusement. Then suddenly they were moving. Drifting away from the submarine and through the kelp that brushed against her sides. Then his fingers brushed against her sides as well.

He stroked her body like he’d never touched her before. His fingers questing as he relearned the shape of her, draping her across him as he preferred while they floated and meandered through his world.

But now, they could speak. Suddenly, all of this felt very different. She could feel the heat of a blush burning her cheeks, and lying her head against his chest felt like maybe she was doing something wrong.

Shouldn’t they… talk? Shouldn’t they be learning about each other?

“I can feel you thinking,” he said, his voice a low chuckle filled with humor. “You can speak about these worries now.”

“I don’t really know you,” she whispered. “And you don’t know me. What if this changes everything all of a sudden?”

“You think you don’t know me?” Imber let them float down onto the soft gold sand. He sat up, his tail bracing her spine as he held her trapped against him. “After all the time we have spent together, you truly believe that I do not know your soul as well as my own?”

“Pretty words. But what if we have conjured up an image of the other person, not that we actually know each other?” That anxiety started creeping in again. Maybe she should tell him what she’d overheard.

Maybe she should let him know what her people were building underneath the sea, and how it would affect him directly. He needed to know the truth, because her people could be starting a war between all of them and he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Long claws dug into the back of her hair, drawing her close to him until their foreheads touched. “Breathe, my wave song. And listen to my words. Yes?”

She nodded against him.

“Our souls were called to each other long before you even saw me. You came to this place because the sea drew you here, knowing that the two of us needed each other. You are here after fate guided your hand. You understand that?”

“I don’t believe in gods or fate.”

“I believe in both enough for the two of us.” And then this strange creature kissed her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin that was so much warmer than his. “This place, when we are together, it is a haven from the rest of the world. There are no responsibilities, no expectations. It is just you and I, wave song. The world doesn’t exist here.”

All the anxiety fled from her body yet again. Because he was right. The world didn’t exist here.

It was just the two of them, and that made her happier than anything else. She was tainting this hidden place they had created between the two of them. If she wanted to let go of her stress, then all she had to do was let go of it.

Sighing, she eventually nodded and repeated, “The world doesn’t exist here.”

“No, it does not.”

His hands moved from her hand, and then something heavy fell around her neck. Surprised, she looked down to see a string of lovely pearls woven together with emerald grass. She was almost scared to touch it, only feathering her fingers over it lightly. “What is this?”

“A gift.”

“You always bring me gifts,” she whispered, before looking up at him with wide eyes. “I never bring you anything in return.”

He shrugged and didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. “I think of you often. So I bring you whatever makes me think of you.”

“Pearls make you think of me?” She had never heard something so kind in her life.

Imber traced her fingers with his own, gently touching the delicate pearls and her collarbone in the same stroke. “They look the same as your skin. Pale, but with a hundred colors hidden underneath.”

“I don’t have any colors other than my skin,” Alys snorted.

“Oh, you do.” He moved his fingers, stroking her collarbone with intention this time. “You turn red here when I do something you like. And if I follow the line of your shoulder, there is the faintest hint of blue and purple where your veins are close to the skin. I’ve seen patches of yellow and green, where I think perhaps you have hurt yourself.”

With her breath caught in her lungs, she didn’t move at all when he moved her mouth piece up enough for his thumb to trace over her lower lip, gently pulling it down before he gave her back her air. “And you are so pink here. Especially after you’ve touched me with your mouth.”

“A kiss,” she replied. “That’s what we call it.”

His eyes somehow went from black to obsidian. “A kiss. I would like to kiss you again, Alys.”

She groaned and let the world fall away. Who needed to breathe when he could breathe for her? Pouring desire and oxygen deep into her lungs with every broad stroke of his tongue.

Chapter

Six

Something was wrong with Alys.

Imber could tell that easily enough, even if she refused to tell him what was wrong. He’d asked, and even just in asking felt as though something had changed. She obviously knew he could sense when her emotions were off. Although, he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was because he could taste them in the water.

He’d never met a creature easier to read. She wore her emotions like a second skin. Her desire was warm and musky, a scent that he regularly kept hidden under his scales for later, when he was alone. Her anxiety was bitter and noxious. It made him flatten his gills against his sides because it was hard to breathe in.

But lately, he had started to taste her fear. Bitter, acrid, it wriggled through every ounce of him and made his hearts beat faster with hers. When he’d asked her why she wasn’t feeling well, she’d brushed him off. But he could tell something was wrong.

And he wasn’t certain what it was, but he had a feeling it had something to do with her people.

Every time she went home, he had to fix her. She came to him to forget who she was, and she was getting thinner every time he saw her. Like she wasn’t eating. Hollows had bruised underneath her eyes, which she said was because she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

Just a week ago, she’d fallen asleep on top of him. Imber had cradled her against his chest, but he knew it wasn’t enough to take her pain away. He’d have done anything to help her. She knew it. He knew it. But there was nothing she would tell him to do.

At a loss for what he could do for his beautiful wave song, he’d swallowed down his emotions. But now, watching her submarine leave him behind in the kelp, he couldn’t stop the feeling that maybe he should follow her.

It was a silly thought. Even when he was a child, he had sought out the achromos. They were strange creatures, so different from his own, and many of his kind took the risk to see where they lived.

Even if he followed her home, he couldn’t leave the water. And she would.

She always did.

Sighing, he tried to will his own nerves out of his body and into the waters. Let the ocean take his fears, because the ancients knew all. They would protect the People of Water.

But he feared…

Well, maybe he was just absorbing Alys’s fears. He could let it go, even if it wanted to lodge itself in his throat.

The kelp beside him shifted, moving with a current that was rather unnatural to see. He assumed at first that it was a sea turtle, or perhaps a curious seal that had drifted a little farther than their normal hunting grounds. But then he caught a glimpse of bright green scales and he knew who it was.

For all that his sister was larger, and arguably should have been a better hunter than him, she had never been very good at hiding. Especially with a little one attached to her hip.

Leaning down to the sand, he scooped up a handful of the golden granules and let them trail between his fingers. “What do you think, Imber?” he said to himself, loud enough that his sister and her offspring would hear him. “Should we go hunting for oysters? Perhaps Virago’s child would like to go pearl hunting.”

The little one was born just as all of his people were. She could understand him easily. The long and low language with which they spoke had already been instilled in her long before she was born.

And he knew something his sister could never battle. The little one was a fiend for oysters. She loved slurping them down while finding the prettiest pearls with her uncle. No matter how hard Virago tried to keep her in the net that wrapped up her daughter, the little one would fight free with her sharp teeth and newly pointed spines to get to an oyster.

He heard the sound of struggling long before his sister’s curse filled the air. Then a little arrow darted through the water toward him, her eyes wide and her hands already outstretched for whatever he held in his hand. Like he’d somehow plucked an oyster off the ground and prepared it just for her.

Now was the tricky part. If his niece realized he didn’t have an oyster in his hand, she would dart off in another direction. The little one had a nose like a shark, and she would head to the nearest oysters in the vicinity. Of course, that would be a problem to find her. She was voracious, and would likely rip through the entire oyster strand before he or Virago had time to get to her.

Looping his tail, he gently flicked his fluke at the same moment she barreled toward him. The lightning quick child was immediately caught up in his much larger fluke that shoved her right into his waiting arms.

Catching her, he held onto her by the waist so she couldn’t wiggle free. Her spines jabbed at the delicate webs between his fingers as she struggled.

Wincing, he held her wriggling body while her mother showed herself in the kelp.

“I thought we had said we weren’t going to spy on each other,” he grumbled, eyeing his sister. “That was a rule from when we were children. Need I remind you?”

“Yes, yes, well, we’re all simply so curious about who you’ve been meeting that I had to be the one to see. Otherwise, it would have been one of the other younger ones.” His sister shuddered. “The last thing you needed was someone else discovering you’ve been meeting with an achromo.”

His entire world ground to a halt.

His sister knew.

Virago had seen him with Alys, which meant she knew he’d been meeting with someone who wasn’t of their kind.

He had said for so long that he was meeting with a young woman that he was falling completely and utterly tail over head for. Everyone knew he wasn’t even available anymore. They could smell Alys on him.

His pod was kind. They were more open than the other pods of their people, especially the ones that were deeper in the ocean. But he hadn’t really given much thought to what they would do if he… if he…

Bringing her home to his people had never been an option, he realized. He risked losing everything if he did. And yet, if he lost Alys, then hadn’t he already lost everything?

Breathing hard, he gulped and held his niece out from his body. Even though her tail slapped at his wrists, he couldn’t stop staring at his sister in horror. “So what now?”

“What do you mean, what now?”

“What are you going to do?” Was she going to tell the pod? Would he have to leave everyone because he was the deviant who had covered himself in the scent of an achromo?

Virago looked at him with pity in her eyes. “Imber.”

The single word wasn’t enough of an answer. He needed to know what she was going to do, because right now, she was the only one who could save him.

“Virago,” he croaked. “None of it was a lie.”

“None of it? You’ve been meeting with an achromo for weeks. Months, maybe. You’ve been telling stories about how you’ve found your mate, and how she makes you feel more complete than you ever hoped to feel.” She grabbed her child, gently wrapping her back up in the net attached to her waist. “Was it because you didn’t think you’d get to mate with anyone else? I know you’re smaller than the other males, Imber. But clearly that doesn’t matter. Look who I chose to mate with.”

“And you killed him in the process,” he muttered.

“A mistake.” Virago at least looked a little guilty. “He was smaller than even I anticipated, but there are females smaller than me. A few scars later and you’d be a father. You’re so good with your niece already, just think if she was your own.”

He shook himself free from old thoughts. “I don’t want a mate from our people, Virago. I’ve already found my mate.”

His sister tilted her head back and laughed. Sharp teeth flashing, she looked somehow even more terrifying than usual with the mirth that made her shoulders wobble and the muscles on her belly visibly seizing before she got control of herself. “Hilarious, brother. But you don’t have to lie to me.”

He wasn’t laughing with her. And it took a bit for her to realize that. “I’m not lying to you, Virago.”

An awkward silence fell between them. Even the sea seemed to hold its breath, not moving a single current as the two siblings stared at each other. Imber refused to change what he had said, though. His sister needed to understand this wasn’t some ruse, so the others would leave him alone.

Alys meant something to him. More than anyone else had ever meant, if he was being honest. She made his soul feel like he mattered. Like there was someone out there who saw him as more than just a potential mate. As more than someone who could bring life into this world.

“What?” Virago finally asked. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You think that… that achromo is your mate?”

“I don’t think she is my mate.” He watched his sister deflate with relief, knowing that he was about to bring that tension back. “I know that she is. I choose her above all others, Virago. She is the one that the sea has sent for me.”

“A soul bond?” his sister scoffed. “It is impossible with their kind. You have no idea what they are doing underneath the water. You haven’t been going out on the scouting missions with the others. You haven’t seen the madness they bring to our waters.”

“I don’t need to see anything to know how she makes me feel.” He pressed a clawed hand to his chest, trying to convey how serious he was. “She sees me, sister. She makes me feel brave. When I speak, she laughs at what I say. She takes the gifts I give her and treats them like they are treasures that I stole from the gods themselves. And when she lies against my chest…” He tapped twice over each heart. “I feel that I am whole.”

With every word, his sister’s mouth dropped open wider and wider. If she wasn’t careful, a fish was going to swim into that open maw of hers. And yet, she didn’t close it even when he finished.

His statement hung between them. If he had been with any other person, he would have feared judgment. He would have worried they would slice him along the tail and leave him for the sharks after they decided he had clearly lost his mind.

But his sister wasn’t like that. She understood that there were different people out there. She had chosen a male that no one else had ever thought she would choose because she saw the value in who he was.

Her mate had been a good man. And now his name was lost to the sea, because she had not been gentle enough to preserve him.

Virago snapped her jaws shut, the echoing click making him flinch. “You truly feel this way?”

“With both my hearts.” He sighed. “I cannot explain the feeling much more than that, Virago. I know that I am where I should be when I am with her. And I know that she is not of our kind.”

“You see how difficult it is going to be?”

“Of course I do.” His words came out harsher than he’d intended, spitting them at his sister, who had always treated him like a child. “I see how difficult it is going to be. She cannot stay in the water forever, and I cannot go onto the land. But if I must chase her sunlight across the seas, I will. Just to bask in the light of her smile.”

Something changed in Virago’s expression. She went from confused and perhaps concerned, then calm and serene.

It was unnerving.

He flicked his tail to put distance between them. “What is that expression?”

It took her a while to respond, and when she did, he almost didn’t hear the words. “I believe you, Imber.”

He was… stunned. He hadn’t thought she would believe him, let alone admit it. Imber had never dreamed it would be this easy for him to tell her, either.

This was his little secret. His greatest hope delivered to him in a package that his own people may very well never understand. How he wanted them to. He wanted them to see her and love her just as he did.

“Oh,” he muttered, sinking down onto the sands with a horrified expression on his face. “Oh, no.”

“What?” His sister’s spines rose. She curved a clawed hand around her child, looking around for whatever danger might be upon them.

“I love her,” he breathed. “I think I love her so very much. I might have loved her for a long time. But I just realized…”

Virago breathed out a sigh of relief, all the tension in her easing as she wrapped herself around him. Her tail flopped on top of his, heavy enough to squeeze out some of the anxiety. “Of course you do. You don’t want her just as a mate, even I can see that. You want to keep her, Imber.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t keep her. No one could.

Trailing his hands over his niece’s back, he let the soft skin remind him of what he had always wanted. A family. Someone to love him as much as he loved them. “I chose an impossible path, didn’t I?”

“Maybe,” Virago replied with a chuckle. “But you also could have chosen a path that changes the way we all see the world. Your achromo might be the reason we all need to help us get along. They don’t even know we exist, Imber. If you continue down this path with her, maybe they will see that we are a people they have to contend with.”

“Why would we want them to know we are even here?”

“Because they are doing something.” His sister frowned, her eyes turning in a direction he couldn’t see. “They’re going to an area near where we hunt, very close to where the pod sleeps. We’re not sure why.”

There were more of the shells that she traveled in? He hadn’t seen many in this area, but they were far from their hunting grounds. “What are they doing there?”

“None of us are sure. There’s just strange bubbles always in the same area. The last time I went scouting, there were green rays coming out of the shells.” His sister shuddered. “The light made me frightened, brother. I’m not sure they were there for a good reason.”

That strange pit in his stomach was back. The same pit that happened when he smelled her fear.

Suddenly, he wondered if Alys hadn’t been telling him everything. “I can ask her.”

“You can speak with her?”

“She gifted me her language, and I gave her ours.” The lights along his tail brightened in embarrassment as his sister thumped his tail with hers. “Sorry. I should have asked before I did that.”

“Yes, you should have.” She grabbed onto his cheeks and gave him a little shake before shoving him up into the current. She trailed along behind him as he made his way back toward their home. “I’m proud of you, though.”

“I’m older than you, Virago. You don’t get to be proud of me.”

“Well, I’m bigger than you.” His sister shrugged. “So maybe I get to be proud of my brother when I wish to be.”

Chapter

Seven

Standing in front of her father’s office, Alys froze with her hand frozen and ready to knock on his door. She didn’t want to do this. But she also didn’t have a choice.

She’d heard the conversations. She knew what their people were planning to do, and she couldn’t stand here and let it happen. Or at the very least, she needed confirmation that her father wouldn’t actually let them destroy so much of the ocean.

She didn’t even know if it would affect Imber and his people. But did it matter? Her people needed a safe place to live, but that didn’t mean they got to destroy everything that stood in their way. That wasn’t how the world should work. Not everything had to be a battle. Sometimes, it could just be a quiet ask and an understanding that of all the things that happened, there were people who were willing to help.

Still, she remained frozen. Afraid of what would happen if she asked her father to tell her the truth.

Because what if the truth was what she feared?

“Come inside, Alys,” her father’s warm voice called out. “I know you’re out there.”

Something melted inside her. Her father had always been a good man. He was the first one to show her the ocean and convince her to let it sink into her soul. He loved it just as much as she did, and he’d proven that to her countless times.

Of all people, he knew how important it was to maintain the glory and original beauty of the sea. He loved it. Deeply. They’d been on countless explorations together, just the two of them in his submarine where he named every single creature that they passed, every shell, even the currents that pushed their ship this way and that.

So she went into the room with her shoulders stiff and her jaw tight. Ready to argue for the place they both loved.

Her father sat at his desk, his glasses dangling from his neck while he poured over all the architectural designs that were likely for Alpha. His room was a mess, as always. Filled to the brim with objects they found on their dives, shells and coral and countless skeletons that he’d meticulously wire wrapped and then displayed. There was only one window in his room, but it didn’t let in much light with the volcanoes like they were today. Instead, he lit the room with countless whale oil lanterns that turned everything orange and red.

He looked up at her, those eyes wrinkling at the corners because they always did when he saw her. His entire face lit up whenever his daughter walked into the room.

She remembered someone asking him about that once. And he said that his greatest discovery had nothing to do with the sea, but with the life he had made. Because no matter what he found, or what he made, his daughter would always be the first person who mattered.

Tears pricked her eyes. It was hard to think of her father as a bad man when he was the one who had been there for her. But she knew that he also wanted to make sure this city was everything that anyone had ever expected of him.

She loved him. Even through his faults. Even though maybe he was focused on this a little too much.

Sighing, she rubbed at her eyes and slumped into the chair in front of her father’s desk. “Dad…”

“You seem upset.”

“I’ve been listening through the walls,” she muttered. “I overheard everything you and the General said to each other. And I… Dad. You can’t do this.”

Her father leaned back in his chair. She could see how hard it was for him to pull himself away from his work. Even when he looked at her, his eyes flicked to the small details on the pages in front of him. His mind didn’t want to stop thinking about all the things that he needed to figure out. No matter how hard he tried to focus on her, he would always look first to his work.

It had been this way her entire life. Alys shouldn’t feel so bad about it. When she was little, it was fun to work with him. She enjoyed going out to the sea and listening to him ramble about all the dreams he had. That he would be a great man who no one forgot.

But now, she saw the flaw in it. He was a man obsessed.

“Why?” she asked when he didn’t reply to her. “Why do you want to ruin something so beautiful? Something you and I have dedicated our entire life to exploring?”

“We’re not ruining all of it,” he replied. But she could see the shadows in his eyes. Even he didn’t believe his words. “Just a small section. Carving out an area for our people to live will not be easy.”

“No, it won’t. But I don’t think the General is being honest with you. You don’t need to have cameras and weapons pointed in every direction. What could possibly hurt us in the ocean?”

She knew what could hurt them. The undines were long and strong. They were powerful in a way no human could ever be, and she wasn’t even all that confident her people could fight them off if they tried to attack. She knew, without a doubt, that should be a concern.

But she also respected Imber. She saw the beauty of his kind and understood that her people were trying to take over his home. They had to understand that there were people already there, and so the respect they had to have for the undines needed to come first.

She said none of this to her father. But when she looked at him, she could see a lie forming on his tongue so easily.

He…

Without thought, the words fell from her mouth. “You know.”

Her father looked surprised. “What do I know?”

“About them.” She shouldn’t even be saying this.

What if he didn’t know? What if she was letting her father know about this secret species and suddenly all of this might be her fault?

Could she trust her father with the knowledge that Imber’s people existed? Would he run to the General and let that terrible man know that there were other things they had to worry about, and things that didn’t have to do with structural integrity?

Her father slumped even more in his chair and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alys, I’m only going to ask this once, and I need you to tell me the truth. Where have you been going all these afternoons?”

A little bell of a voice in her head said that she should lie. He didn’t need to know where she was going. What if this was a trick? A trap? What if they locked her up, and they refused to let her see Imber again?

But this was her father. And she loved him. Trusted him. Even though he had done some questionable things as of late, she knew, in his heart, he was a good man.

“I’ve been meeting with the sea,” she replied quietly. She stared into his gaze, hoping he knew what that meant.

“Exploring?”

“Talking,” she corrected. “And exploring, I suppose. But mostly talking.”

She could see that he understood what she was saying. He knew that she meant she had conversed with the people under the sea and the spark of adventure in his eyes was so familiar it made her heart thud in her chest.

“How?” he asked.

“Beta.”

“A translation chip? But we know nothing about their language.”

Alys shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I gave him a copy of Beta. And he brought it home with him.”

“He?”

She nodded.

Her father let out a long breath. “So he brought Beta home and spoke with it?”

“For days on end, I assume. It’s not a complete mapping of their language, and I did only have Beta create one before it turned itself offline because I didn’t want anyone else getting their hands on the language without knowing what they might do with it.” Strangely, she felt rather defensive about her plan. “I thought of everything, Dad.”

“I can tell.” He stood from his desk and then held out his hand for her to take. “I need you to see something.”

That pit in her stomach continued to tighten as she followed him out of his office. Together, they left their home and walked down the boardwalks that brought them closer to the city. Not that it was much of a city anymore. They had a small gathering of the richer folks here, while everyone else had tried to live in the mountain towns.

It hadn’t worked to save them. The air was even thinner up there, filled with ash and dust from the volcanoes. At least the storms didn’t hit them like they hit the people on the coastlines, though. That’s why they all lived in floating houses. Theoretically, their houses rode the waves that came in.

She’d still seen people lose their houses time and time again, though. And their lives.

Her father brought her to one of the homes that she’d always thought was storage and then pulled out a set of keys. Quickly, he unlocked the building while looking around them like someone might be following them.

Or perhaps that they would get in trouble if anyone caught them.

“Come on,” he said, hastening her with his tone. “Let’s go, Alys.”

Together, they snuck into the darkness of the building. She was shocked to see what was beyond.

A room full of artifacts. Spears. Tools that surely were only used by Imber and his people. Strange looking skeletons that she quickly realized were one of the undines. The tail was so long, though. Longer even than Imber. There were so many creatures in here as well. Deep-sea species that she had never thought to see in her life.

There were even art pieces. Woven tapestries and necklaces like the one she hid underneath her thick sweater. So many pieces of his people’s life, all held up in storage.

“What is this?” she asked. “Have you known about his people for a long time?”

“A very long time,” her father replied. He strode into the center of the room, his hands tucked behind his back. “This is why the General wants to clear out everything around Alpha. He wants to make sure that none of them can get close to the city without him knowing.”

“They aren’t violent.”

“Oh, but they are.” With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, he turned his back to her and instead faced a spear that was longer than she was tall. “They have attacked us before. Most of the attacks were on the subs that have been scouting out an area for us to live. There are certain areas that they are much more protective of.”

“Probably because that’s where they live,” she said. “Dad, can’t you see this is wrong? We can’t just move into where they have their homes and families. I don’t care if Alpha’s location is perfect. We can’t build there.”

“You cannot stop progress, Alys.”

“Progress?” She felt nauseous even thinking of the word. “It’s not progress, Dad. It’s displacing a group of people who have never given us any trouble.”

“We need a place to live. We need to go under the sea, and if we don’t, we will all die.” Her father’s expression remained troubled, though. She knew he was bothered by this choice. “If we don’t do this, then we may be the last humans alive on this planet. We will all be wiped out.”

“There has to be another way.”

“It’s too late.” Her father’s shoulders rounded in, and she knew he would not change anything that he was doing. Not for her. Not for the undines. Not for anyone. “The plans have already been designed. I’ve already approved all the safety measures, and there is nothing I can do to stop it now. The General has what he needs to continue forward, with or without my help. But if I continue to help, then at least I can be assured that the city will be safely built. No one will cut corners. It won’t flood or crack as we have always feared it would.”

“You’re going to destroy their homes,” she said one last time. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she tasted salt on her tongue. “These are people, Dad. They have a language, intelligence and kindness. Imber is…”

He interrupted her. “Imber?”

“That’s his name.”

“It is a good name. I hope he has been kind to you.” Her father turned around, and she saw there were tears in his eyes as well. “Tell him to run, Alys. Or whatever it is that they do. Swim far away from here, because if he doesn’t, then his people will die. The General will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You have little time left to convince them of that.”

“Dad,” she whispered, begging him to tell her this would not end the way she thought it would.

“When you see them, tell them I’m sorry.” He shook his head after the words, as if he couldn’t quite believe himself either. “If I could do something, I would stop it. Maybe if I had the foresight to see where this would have ended up. I know… I knew who the General was and what he would expect from my work. But this was the greatest design of my life and I got caught up in it.”

“Dad, you have to stop them.”

“I can’t.” A single tear dripped down her father’s cheek. “Even if I tried, lovely girl, there is nothing I can do. I could rip my designs out of their hands and burn them, but that wouldn’t stop them from building the city. It’s too late. I was blind, and now I will hold this guilt for the rest of my life.”

She took one step back. Then another. Another. Until there felt like an entire ocean between herself and her father.

He watched her movements with sad eyes and a heart that broke just like hers. “You’ll tell them I’m sorry. Won’t you, Alys? Warn them and then tell them that I am so, so sorry.”

She didn’t have it in her to say that she didn’t think apologies meant anything when their homes were going to be destroyed. They would have to share an entire ocean with a species of creature that wanted to kill them, and she didn’t know that Imber’s people were equipped to handle people like hers. People with guns and technology that far outpaced their own.

Swallowing her tears, she bolted away from the building. She left her father in that treasure trove of discoveries that had led to this moment they both knew that there was no coming back from. As she slipped into her submarine, uncertain if anyone had seen her flee from that place, she couldn’t get the General’s face out of her mind.

“Beta?” she asked, waking up her droid to help her pilot the ship. “Take me to him.”

Chapter

Eight

“Imber!” The shout echoed through the water.

He was curled up on his small spiral of stones, worn soft and warm by the sea and his scales. He’d been dreaming about her. Alys. Because he was always dreaming about her.

Shaking the trailing fingers of the dream off, he sat up even as his gills flared around his neck and chest. He could smell it. The blood in the water that would soon draw predators to their home.

Blood? Why was there blood here?

Shooting out of his nest, he darted through the currents toward the smell. It didn’t matter who was hurt or why they were calling for him, he had to go. His people needed him, and it didn’t take even more than a second thought.

The sleep fell away from him and he saw a giant crowd in the center of their home. Men and women, all clustered around one of their own who laid bleeding on the central pattern. Coils of red plumed around the larger male who had been with the hunting party last night. There was a bright red blotch along his tail where something, or someone, had cut into it.

Not teeth. Not a round circular mark, as though he’d been bitten by a shark or any other creature that lived in their homeland. It almost looked raw and ragged around the edges.

He’d never seen a wound like that before.

His sister darted toward him, her tail moving so quickly that her child nearly bounced free from the net. “Brother. You are well?”

“I’m fine.” He clasped her arms, forcing her to look at him when she would have rushed off again. “What is going on?”

“They were attacked. You were supposed to be with that hunting party, and when you didn’t come back with them, I thought…” Her eyes were wild with panic, and he knew that she’d been afraid he wouldn’t return.

“Virago, I wasn’t supposed to be with that hunting party. They sent me in the opposite direction yesterday with the others.” He squeezed her forearms a little too hard, letting his claws sink into her skin in pinpricks of pain to anchor her. “I came back last night. With the others. We were all fine.”

Her gills flattened against her neck and chest. “I… They were attacked, Imber. They were just swimming through the same paths we always do and something came out of nowhere. It… It…”

The male laying on the sands coughed out, “It burned.”

“Poison?” he asked, because that was the only thing he could think of that would burn them. Burning was an unnatural sensation underneath the sea. Perhaps they had some kind of poison that hurt like when he had touched a puffer fish once when he was a child.

One of the females lifted a few of the male’s scales around the wound and shook her head. “No. Burned.” She looked up at the rest of them, her voice haunted. “Like the last homeland we left, where the water boiled from the land trying to take back the sea.”

He remembered that, although he had been but a child. Imber remembered the red hot liquid that moved so slowly, but steadily approached them. He remembered the sound of popping water and the boiling that had sent so many creatures dashing toward them. He remembered how hard it had been to breathe.

The male sat up slightly, his breathing labored as he panted out the words. “They are coming here,” he said. “They are coming to take our home.”

His sister grabbed onto his arm, and Imber thought he felt a little faint.

Who was coming here?

“The achromos,” the male said again, before he laid back on the sands, so still they all leaned forward to be sure his gills still fluttered.

Virago tugged at him, even though Imber wanted to check on the male to make sure he was still alive. Their pod was big. He didn’t know the man personally but he should at least check. He felt responsible for this. He should have known they were coming. Surely Alys would have told him. He would have known that there was an attack about to happen.

Again, Virago yanked him away from the others. This time, he didn’t have any choice but to follow her. He let her tug him away until no one could hear them.

Then she spun around. “You have to ask her to help us.”

“I don’t know what she can do.”

“She’s a female! Surely she has enough power that she can tell them to stop, or at least to move, so our hunting grounds aren’t compromised!” Virago shook her head. “Beg her, if you have to.”

“She’s so small.” He looked at his hands, as though he held her in them. “You’ve seen her, Virago.”

“Only from a distance.”

“She is smaller than any of our kind. I find it hard to believe that she has any power at all.” Otherwise, this was partially her fault.

She could have stopped it if she had any power. And she hadn’t. Which meant that maybe she didn’t see the use in his people, or in him. And that hurt. That thought blistered through his very soul until he couldn’t think or breathe through it.

“Brother,” Virago said, her voice creased with concern. “We have to do something. We’re the only ones who know one of their kind. Surely that means something. The sea would not send her to you without reason.”

He nodded, even if his heart felt torn in two. “I will ask.”

“Go to her now.”

“The others will wonder where I am.”

“I will tell them you went to scout out what is happening. That you will return with some kind of information that can help us.” Virago tugged him close and pressed their foreheads together. He even felt his niece press her little forehead to his side before he was released. “Find out something we can use, Imber.”

And so he fled from his people to the grove where he hoped she would wait for him. He didn’t know how long it would take for her to come to him. They didn’t usually see each other this time of the day, or even this time of the week. It might take days where he sat on the sands, waiting for her to tell him she had nothing to do with this.

Except, by the time he made it to the grove, there was already a metal shell waiting for him. He had only a few moments to be shocked before the top flew open so quickly the sound echoed around him.

Imber heard the muffled sound of his own name, shouted as she struggled to swim closer to him. He’d thought he would be angry at her. That he’d want to yell and scream, or ask what had she done? What had her people done?

But the moment he saw her, with those billowing skirts like the most delicate jellyfish belled around her, he couldn’t be angry. All he wanted to know was that she was safe.

He’d flicked his fluke before he even realized he was moving. Then he was racing toward her, speeding through the water so quickly he swore it didn’t even touch him before he had her gathered up in his arms. Her twin tails wrapped around his waist, holding him just as tightly as he held her.

They coiled around each other, tangling as best they could until he couldn’t tell where he started and where she began. He held her close, breathing in her familiar scent and the hope that came with it.

“Alys,” he breathed into her neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t know what they were going to do, or that they knew about your people. I would have done something, I promise.”

“You know now?”

“I know everything.” Her entire body quaked in his arms, wracked with emotions as she struggled to speak through them. “I confronted my father. He’s the main designers, and I’m sure that means nothing to you at all. I didn’t know where they were going to build the city or that they knew you existed. All I heard at first was that they were going through with the design no matter who it affected, but I didn’t ever think it would come to this.”

He tugged her away from him, confused at what she was saying. And also because he wanted to look at her. He wanted to see the tears in her eyes and know without a doubt that she was as plagued by this as he was. “Alys. You have to tell me everything.”

So she did.

Without hesitation.

He watched her purge the words with growing horror and a realization that nothing he or she did could stop what was going to happen. Women had no power in her world, at least not like in his. She couldn’t tell them to stop building their new home, just like he couldn’t tell his people to move. She would do whatever she could do, but that was so very little.

Her people were going to destroy his. They were going to take over ancient lands that had been in his family for generations. They would start a war with his people that wouldn’t stop for generations to come, if it ever did.

A sudden premonition hit him like he’d been swallowed by a whale. They wouldn’t stop fighting until one side was dead. Undines or humans, as she called herself. One of them had to die for the other to live.

He gathered her up again, tucking her head underneath his chin and holding onto her for all that he could.

This wasn’t right. They were going to be fine. He would figure it out, or they would figure it out together.

“I’m so sorry,” she said at the end of her story, still breathing hard. It was difficult to hear her through the mask she wore over her mouth. He wished he could take it off. He wished she could live under the water with him, just as he always wanted her to do.

“It’s not your fault,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “Although, I’ll admit, I was hopeful you would be able to stop this.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She leaned back, a strange grating noise coming out of her before he realized it was the sound of her sniffing. It had changed with her tears. “I just know that my father is part of it, and so it feels like I’ve been part of it as well.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have done something earlier. Told you earlier.” She shook her head, then pulled the mouthpiece off. He tried to ignore the mucus that she wiped away and then gently took out of the mouth piece before placing it back on. “My father said to apologize for him, and that he can’t stop what’s coming. Then he said to tell you that you should run.”

“I don’t know what this means.”

“Leave. You should leave before they hunt you down.” Big, sad eyes stared up at him, and he wanted to fight the world for her. “I think he might be right, Imber. I don’t think there’s a way for you to fight back against my people. I think you might all die if you tried.”

“Your people would really kill us?”

She nodded miserably. “The General is an evil man. He sees nothing other than a land to conquer, and even if he could recognize that your people have been here long before we wanted to take your home, he wouldn’t care. He sees it as a challenge.”

“Part of me wants to say we will rise to that challenge.” Imber raked his claws through her hair, gently tugging on a snarl that had already formed. “My people are fighters. I am gentle with you, Alys, but I am not always so gentle.”

“I figured.” Though she smiled and still traced his shoulders with her fingertips, he could sense that she hesitated. “I have studied the ocean my entire life. I know evolution and the changes of species through the centuries. I know the science. Nothing is born with so many weapons on their body, without being able to use them or having a good reason to use them. You are built like a predator, Imber. Don’t think I ever forget that.”

He took her hand in his and slid it down his arm. He used his own hand to force her to linger on the sharp points down the backs of his arms, then drew her closer to make her feel the spines down his back. Baring his teeth, he took her hand and touched her thumb to the sharp points of his teeth.

Throughout it all, she held her breath. Barely breathing at all as she allowed him to make her touch every single dangerous part of him.

And when he was done, when he was certain she had been frightened enough, he leaned down to press his lips against the very sensitive side of her neck. “I am a predator, Alys, but I am yours. In this time, in the next, in all the lives to come. I am yours. You never have any reason to fear me.”

Her arms came down around him, her single heart thundering against both of his, and he knew in that moment that she understood what he was saying. She was safe.

He would keep her safe.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “We cannot stop them from building Alpha. I can’t go back and tell my father that he needs to change something because he’s not going to change. Our hands are tied. I cannot live with myself knowing that my people were the ones who cause yours so much pain. You don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve this.”

“We will figure something out.”

“It’s your home, Imber.” Her voice broke around the sadness and mourning that radiated throughout her entire body.

He could taste it in the water. Faint, because he realized her sadness tasted like the sea. Saltwater and a heavy brine that settled on his gills and dried into fractured pieces that dug into the sensitive membranes like sharp little claws.

Perhaps, even though he had always thought her weak, his Alys was stronger than he thought.

He drew back, pulling off her goggles so he could wipe away the tears. Usually she left these on in the water, saying her eyes needed the air. But when he went to put them back on her, she shook her head.

Alys let the goggles drop onto the sea floor. She took a deep breath, staring at him, and something settled between them. Some understanding that both of them had been fighting against, but they finally knew had to happen.

“Imber,” she said, her voice strong and determined. “I want to help you. I want to help your people.”

He nodded. Because, of course, this was the only way. “Don’t go home this time,” he said. “Stay with me.”

Chapter

Nine

“Stay with me,” he said, as if it was that easy.

As if she could just stay underneath the water. As if she could just not go home and then live somewhere with him. It wasn’t that easy, she wanted to tell him. Nothing was easy when she had to have air to breathe, and being under the water so much would eventually harm her. She couldn’t just decide to stay here with him. That was a dream that would never work out in the end.

But then she thought about it. She let her mind wander through the possibilities and she thought…

Well.

Why not?

Sure, she couldn’t live underwater forever. And she would run out of oxygen eventually, but that had to be fixable. She was the daughter of an inventor, and she could come up with something.

Glancing at the tubing attached to her face, and at the anchor of a ship she was connected to, she wondered if maybe she could figure out a way to lengthen the tube. If it was constantly in the air, maybe she could figure out some kind of pump system that would… she didn’t know. Draw the air down to her?

It was a long shot. But still, without hesitation, she found herself saying, “I want to stay with you.”

Like it was that easy. Like it was just a choice they both had to make. Like they could choose to do this together and the world would change with them.

His dark eyes lit up as if she’d given him the moon. His hands closed tighter around her waist, drawing her closer and closer to him until he pulled off her mouth piece and kissed her. And oh, it didn’t matter then. Nothing mattered because he was kissing her, she was in his arms, and the ridiculous decision she had just made was for the both of them. Not just for herself.

A small prick at the side of her neck distracted her for a split second before his tongue swept into her mouth. Then nothing mattered. Because he had coaxed her to follow him, trailing her own tongue along the sharp points of his deadly teeth. He showed her again how deadly he was, how dangerous, and yet how gently he would treat her for the rest of her days if she trusted him.

Gods, she could love this undine. She could dedicate her entire life to making him happy just to feel the plush press of his lips to hers.

“I adore you,” he said, his words eerily close to what she had just been thinking. “I want to keep you, Alys. I’ve wanted to keep you from the first moment I saw you. You are… everything. You know that, don’t you?”

“Sure,” she breathed against his lips. “I don’t know if I’ll ever believe that, but I want you. I want to stay. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, even if that’s an insane thing to say.”

And how…

How was she talking? How was she possibly saying that much when they both knew she needed air to breathe?

Leaning back, she felt panic flare a little too brightly in her chest for a brief moment. The mouthpiece wasn’t on. Was this the few moments before she was going to drown? Had they finally made a mistake?

When that moment never came, heartbeat after heartbeat, she stared down at the mouth piece on the ocean floor. Oxygen still bubbled out of it, trailing up through the water in little iridescent bubbles that were so pretty to look at and yet so confusing at the same time.

“How?” she whispered, realizing that air was still exiting her mouth. Every time she spoke, a few bubbles popped out as well. That meant there was air in her lungs.

But…

The prick at the side of her neck. She watched Imber’s eyes widen with brief horror before his clawed fingers touched the side of her neck. “I don’t… I don’t know how I did that.”

She reached up her hand to touch his and realized there was a small tendril stuck to the side of her neck. Shifting her head from side to side, she realized she could almost feel it in her throat. Just a little hint that there was a foreign body somehow inside her.

She watched his chest rise and fall with a surprised breath, and she felt her own mimic his.

“Are you… breathing for me?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

“I don’t know.”

It was the only explanation, and yet she didn’t know how that was possible. He couldn’t breathe for her underwater. It wasn’t scientifically possible and yet, here it was.

She was underwater. With him. Not drowning even though her mouth piece had long been on the ground at her feet and… and…

“Wow,” she whispered. “I didn’t know we could do this.”

“Neither did I.” The shock had already faded from his eyes, though. He reached for her, his claws tangling in her long skirts as he dragged her closer to him. “But now you can be here without fear for your life. You can live under the water with me.”

She knew that light in his eyes. It was the same expression he made when he wanted to kiss her. And it was always such a dangerous game they played when they kissed each other, knowing that she would have to eventually take a breath, or he would have to pinch her nose and force oxygen through her lips. They always knew they were only moments from her drowning.

But now?

They were safe.

Now he could hold her without fear. So he did. He dragged her into his arms, parting her legs around his hips with confident hands that had her arching into his grip.

It all suddenly hit her with all the weight of the sun. She was here, in his arms, underwater, and for the first time since she’d met him, she was safe. Safe to explore his body, his touch, the feelings that had been brewing for the few months that she’d known him. They had spent so much time together and she had been completely blind in the realization that she’d been carrying so much fear with her.

Every interaction, every touch, every moment that she got to see him, she was terrified.

What if she lost connection to her oxygen? What if she drowned right in front of him? What if someone followed her, or her ship broke down, or she disappointed him because she was weak and needed goggles and a mouth piece?

All of that faded away until there was nothing but her and him. Nothing but the man in front of her with heated eyes who wanted her.

He wanted to touch her. To hold her. To kiss her because he knew, for the first time, it was safe to do so.

She would be an idiot to not take advantage of every second.

She grabbed onto his shoulders and yanked him to her. She could feel the slight huff of surprise that echoed through his body because it also puffed air into her lungs. But the flexing of his claws against her spine, or the way he grabbed handfuls of her skirt before stopping himself, all of it told her just how close he was to losing his control as well.

“I want you,” she moaned against his lips. “I don’t care how or why this has happened. I want you.”

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted her as much as she did him.

Like she’d unleashed a shark, he descended upon her. She only had a few moments to realize they were sinking to the sands before her back hit them. A plume of sand covered her vision for a brief moment before his gills fluttered hard enough to push it all away from her. He loomed over her, a dark shadow with a frame of the sea behind him.

“I have wanted to taste you for such a long time,” he growled, his voice low and guttural.

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know how he would taste her, but… Sure. If that’s what he wanted to do. Nodding frantically, she wrapped an arm around his neck and kissed him again. Arching into him, wanting whatever he would give her. “Then taste me.”

He groaned, his body going rigid under her touch. “We are not a gentle people, Alys.”

“I don’t want gentle.”

“I don’t know how to do this the way your people do, maybe…”

She leaned away from him, a full-blown glare on her face. “Do you want me?”

“Yes.” The word wrenched out of him like she had pulled it out of his heart. “More than anything.”

“Then touch me how you want. Taste me how you want. I don’t even know what that means, but I’m telling you that nothing you do will feel wrong.” She kissed him again, sweeter this time, but with no less desire. “No one has done this before, Imber. I think it’s safe to say that anything we do will be new for the both of us.”

He shook his head, gliding his lips over hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

She didn’t think any of it could hurt. All of his touches had felt like little lightning bolts for weeks now, and surely he knew that? He had to know…

Then all thought fled from her mind.

He’d leaned down and dragged his tongue up her throat. She had that tongue in her mouth more times than she could count now, but she hadn’t realized it was ridged. There were bumps there, like little suction cups that moved up and down the sensitive skin of her neck. Shivering, a little moan escaped her lips before she could catch it.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

But he wouldn’t. Because he was already molding her body with the palms of his hands. Broad and wide, he could fit her entire breast and some of her rib cage in a single grip, but oh, it felt amazing. He watched her as he touched her everywhere. Lingering on the spots that made her gasp.

His thumbs brushed against her nipples, working them into stiff peaks that sent little bolts of energy between her legs. She couldn’t get enough air from him, dragging on the tentacle attached to her neck like it was a drug. Especially when his hands smoothed down her belly, then gradually started lifting handfuls of skirt up her legs.

Inch by inch, he feasted on the sight of her.

“You will tell me more about these tails soon enough,” he grumbled, lifting one of her legs high to nip at the delicate skin behind her knee. “But first, I need to know where this taste is from.”

“Taste?” she asked, almost delirious with need.

The gills around his neck fluttered. “I can taste the water, Alys. I can taste you.”

Oh god, was he suggesting that he could taste her on the water? Like the actual taste of her arousal was… was…

He pushed her skirts up high and then suddenly he was between her legs. The featherlight touches of his gills fluttered against her inner thighs, the sensation nearly sending her into a spiral of pleasure before those ridges of his tongue slid through her folds.

She arched into him, her entire body seizing around the sensation of that touch.

“Pain?” he asked, pausing between her legs even as those gills slid between her thighs.

He was touching her with his gills. They were soft and so gentle. Even though the touch was otherworldly, they fluttered so perfectly around her that she could only choke out words that maybe sounded like, “Don’t stop.”

The low growl that vibrated against her was nearly enough to send her careening into the hardest orgasm of her life. She was so glad it didn’t, though, because she wanted to savor this moment.

He turned all his attention between her legs and feasted. For all that he had no experience with a human, he made up for it in sheer enjoyment. The noises he made, the grunts and groans of pleasure every time he licked over her clit or felt her thighs clamp down harder around his head, it all made the pleasure inside her coil higher and higher.

She glanced down, seeing black claws ripping through her skirts and his tail lashing behind him as he ground himself into the sand and she almost couldn’t take it.

She wanted… needed… more. Him. Everything. She wanted to see him, feel him stretching her, pushing her to a point where there was no return. She wanted to know what it felt like to not just be devoured by an undine, but consumed.

Grabbing onto his hair, she pressed him to the perfect spot as his tongue lashed against her. “Yes, Imber, right there.”

He groaned, a long, low word that sounded like a curse. “You taste so good,” he growled before plunging his tongue deep inside her.

And what a long tongue it was. She arched her body, riding his tongue like she would his cock as he pistoned it in and out of her pussy. She was glad they were underwater or she might have heard the obscene sounds of how wet she was and how hard she rode him, but then stars sparkled beneath her eyes.

He bent his tongue, pressing against something inside her and all those little suction cups gripped onto her and she exploded.

Every muscle in her body locked up tight. She couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything other than hold on to him and hope she made it out of this alive, because she thought maybe she wouldn’t.

Eventually the clenching muscles gave, and she slumped down onto the sand. There really wasn’t enough air for her to breathe, but she felt him breathe a little harder for her so she could at least get her heart to beat a little slower. It wasn’t easy, though. Not when she was so limp in his arms.

He braced himself over her, that long, dark tongue licking his lips as though he couldn’t stand wasting a single taste of her.

“I’d like to do that again,” he said, his voice still thick and ragged. “Soon.”

“Yeah, when I can breathe again,” Alys replied, then giggled. “I don’t… I don’t think I can move.”

“Good, you don’t have to.” Imber smoothed her hair away from her face. “For now, I should get you somewhere safe.”

She shook herself free from the post orgasm haze, reminding herself that technically they weren’t safe yet. They were still in the ocean, likely still near the dig site for Alpha. They had a lot of things to do, and she couldn’t just snuggle into him when all she wanted was to return the favor.

“But what about you?” she asked, drawing her fingers down his lips. She couldn’t stop touching him. Not after that.

He grinned, nipping at her lips. “Soon, little one. Soon. But first, we have to do something about your shell.”

“My shell?” She frowned before realizing he was looking at her ship. “Ah. Right. That is a problem.”

One that was easy to fix, even if it meant that she would have to break her father’s heart a little. It made her own heart break, but she hoped he would see it as a sign.

He was the only one who knew she was close with the undine. He was the only one who knew that she wasn’t alone in the ocean.

She made quick work of it. She couldn’t even let Beta know that she was going to be okay, or the little droid would have to tell them. So she directed Imber. “Rip off the front glass, if you can. There’s a red button on the top panel. It’s an emergency protocol that will make it go home on its own. It should be able to do so even with all the water damage.”

He gave her a look, clearly unimpressed that she thought he couldn’t rip off the panel. She watched with wide eyes as he made it look almost easy. He tore the glass off like it wasn’t held down by industrial strength bolts that were then welded onto the metal.

He could have ripped the whole thing open like a tin can if she asked him to do that. And somehow, that was thrilling more than it was terrifying.

When it was all said and done, there was very little to do other than rub at the faint ache in her chest. They were still connected by that tentacle, far enough to be an arm’s length away, and that was all. So when he gathered her close, it felt only natural to move even closer.

“Come home with me?” he asked.

She found it was hard to do anything other than nod against his chest and mourn the loss of her old life. Even as she felt a spark of excitement to see her new one.

Chapter

Ten

Nerves churned in his belly as he swam her away from the grove. He had never thought this would be possible, let alone that he would bring Alys back to his family.

But no part of him regretted asking her. The only thing he had to be nervous about was whether or not they would let her stay.

He thought they would. Maybe. His people were suspicious of hers, considering the attack that had just happened and the fact that they were going to be faced with more attacks soon. But maybe, just maybe, she could win them over.

Imber tried to prepare himself for the inevitable. Someone would try to hit her or scratch her. They would want to take their pound of flesh for what her people had done to his. Though they were likely owed that, he didn’t want to see her harmed. She wasn’t the one who had burned his pod mate. She wasn’t the one who had designed this new city of theirs.

Perhaps he should hope that his sister found them first. Virago would be a much larger shield for his Alys while Imber tried to calm everyone down.

Come to find out, he didn’t need to worry in the slightest.

The first moment they could see his home, the swirling patterns of stones marking the way to their nests, they were spotted. The undines rose from their nests, all of them swimming toward him in a wall of colorful creatures that likely terrified her with their movements. They rose out of the ocean and came for her, long claws outstretched and their dark eyes wide.

He tried to see them as she did. They were rather monstrous compared to her, although they were his family and friends. They looked like him. Alys tightened her tails around him, holding onto his shoulders and squeezing a little harder as she tried to straighten up.

He wanted to tell her to be brave. He wouldn’t leave her side, even if they tried to tear her from him.

But he didn’t have to worry about any of it. The moment the first of his people reached for her, she went without question. She untangled her tails from her, brushing her hair back away from her face, and reaching out for the giant female as well.

Aluo was one of the largest females in his pod, if not the largest. He still remembered watching her grow as they were children and being ridiculously intimidated by her size. She had ended up nearly double his size, and her broad shoulders with stacks upon stacks of muscles made her a formidable opponent. He’d seen many males die as she mated with them.

But Alys didn’t even flinch. She touched her fingertips to Aluo’s, a smile on her face as she looked at how large in comparison the hand was to hers. And then, with a surprising movement, she pressed Aluo’s fingers against her forehead.

How did she know?

How did she so easily fit into his people without question and make a movement that was clearly meant with respect? He watched Aluo’s expression change from one of suspicion to softness, and then they were swarmed by the People of Water.

So many of them dove all around him, darting through the currents as they tried to touch her. Some of them ran their claws through her hair, others touched gentle fingers to the bottom of her feet. So many people, all trying to catch a glimpse of the strange creature he had brought to them.

She did what she could to endure their curiosity. Imber could see she was getting nervous, though. Most of that had to do with when one of his people got too close to the short cord holding them together. If they ripped out his tentacle, she was too deep underwater to reach the surface before she would drown.

Flicking his tail, he moved closer, gripping her hand in his so she wouldn’t float too far from his side.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, dragging her a little closer as yet another of his people caught hold of her foot. “I won’t let anything happen.”

“I know,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers.

But her eyes were still a little wider than he’d like to see. Even though she put on a brave face, he knew this was overwhelming.

Finally, the crowd parted and his sister swam through it. Virago looked particularly exhausted today. Or maybe that was just the little one attached to her hip that was wriggling and reaching out for him with grabbing hands.

Soon, he would hold his niece again. But right now, he wanted them all to see that she wasn’t a threat.

“Brother,” Virago said, her voice pitched loud so that everyone could hear her. “You have brought one of the achromos to our home.”

“I did.”

“The dangers they have caused in our waters are reason enough to not bring her here. So please, explain to us all why you hold on to her like a mate.”

His sister already knew the answer, but the others didn’t. This was her way of telling him to weave a tale that would make them all relax. A tale that would convince them to let her stay.

So they all sank down toward the sands and the spiraling stones. He kept her in his arms, wrapping his tail around her so she was as tangled with him as he was with her. It was a sign that she was his mate, but also that he wouldn’t let anyone else touch her.

Then he told them their story.

Every word warmed him to the core. He had chosen correctly. Alys had proven herself to be good and wise with every turn. Her adventurous spirit was a captivating part of the story, as was her bravery when she first faced him down. He left out the parts where they had explored each other’s bodies, namely because he didn’t know what to say about it.

She hid a treasure trove between her twin tails, one that tasted as sweet as the oysters that he harvested for his pod to eat. He’d never look at one the same again.

Even though his grip had loosened around her as he spoke—as he was less concerned with someone taking her from his arms—she had taken to stroking his tail. He knew there were many who watched her do so. They were pleased with how easily she showed him affection, and even more pleased that she wasn’t disgusted with the touch.

They didn’t know, of course, that she could understand every word he said. At least until he told them about the device she’d created and affixed to his ear.

“She can understand us?” Virago asked, her voice loud and booming, even though she already knew this detail of the story.

“Just as I can understand her.”

Alys glanced between the two of them, clearly sensing the tension in the water. But then again, she didn’t need to be a shark to be able to smell that. “If I may?”

He saw a few of the others wince at the sound of her clipped voice. “Quietly, little one. Your voice is…”

“Grating?” she replied, trying not to laugh.

Imber nodded. He didn’t want to insult her or her people any more than she would endure living here with him. But he supposed… Well, the truth had to come out at some point. “It is very high pitched.”

“Ah.” She brought her words down to barely a whisper and then slowed them down even further. “I am the only one who can understand you. Please tell them that the devices I created were only so we could speak with each other. They were only a one time creation. The droid that made them, Beta, it’s with my father. I don’t think I could make them again, and my people certainly cannot.”

He repeated the words to his sister, making sure that he said everything that she wanted his sister to know. And when he was finished, Virago gravely nodded.

He saw the expression on her face. It was one of sadness, and he already knew he wouldn’t like what she was about to say.

“I think it would be best if we keep it that way.” She even looked Alys in the eyes as she said it. “I am sorry that we will not be able to converse easily, new sister. But your people cannot have a way to know our language, and I refuse to put anyone else in danger because of it. The risk is too great.”

Alys nodded before looking up at him. “I agree with her.”

“Are you sure?” It broke his heart to think she would never truly be part of his people. She would be able to understand them fully, but, like a pet, they would never be able to understand her.

“It’s technology I don’t think my people should ever get their hands on,” she confirmed. “Your sister is right.”

So he repeated the words and then answered any questions his people might have.

How did they meet?

Where did she come from?

What were the small flippers on her tails? Why did they have notches in them?

They reached for her hands again, touching the long funnels between her fingers where there should be a membrane. And she let them. His little Alys answered every question without fail, even when she yawned and yanked the air out of him so quickly with the movement that he had to pound on his chest.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. This was the first time he’d had her in his world, and they were both exhausted. His people would have more time to ask them questions, but for now, “We’re both tired,” he interrupted the newest person asking her questions. “I think I should get her to bed.”

“To bed?” his sister asked. “In your nest?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. His nest was one of the many that didn’t have any cover. It would be a miracle if either of them got any sleep with so many people staring at her. He wouldn’t put it past the more curious younglings to sneak a touch while she was resting.

Rolling her eyes, Virago gestured behind her. “Take mine for the night, brother. Perhaps then you will have some semblance of rest.”

“I couldn’t. Your daughter—”

“Will be fine with me in your nest tonight.” She grinned, sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. “Take your achromos to my nest, brother. Make sure she has good dreams there, yes?”

Alys would understand the words, although he wasn’t sure she knew what his sister meant. Good dreams were only for those who had earned them. His sister had essentially told him to work hard to give her a restful night, which meant… his sister couldn’t possibly be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting.

Embarrassment heated his cheeks, and he gathered Alys up in his arms before she could ask what his sister meant. He would not explain in front of everyone that his sister was highly inappropriate.

Drifting through the water, away from his people, to where they were finally going to be alone again, it eased something in his chest. Though he adored his people, he hadn’t realized just how much he wanted to be alone with her.

They had always had their own time together. That kelp grove had been their haven, far away from anyone else that might look in on them. And he didn’t want to lose that.

He’d liked it being just the two of them. Without that, what did they have? Just a lot of responsibility and weight on their shoulders. Too much stood between them, and being here reminded him of that.

“Imber?” Alys asked, her hands braced on his chest as he swam them toward the covered nest. He stopped in front of it, hesitating.

The inside smelled like his sister and his niece. There were little toys hanging from the covering above them and it was so… his sister. He couldn’t sleep with her here. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t them.

“I think I know a better place,” he said, bumping her forehead with his. “You trust me?”

“As long as a shark doesn’t try to eat me in the middle of the night.”

“There aren’t that many sharks in the ocean.”

“Says you.” She leaned back in his arms as he swam them in the opposite direction. “Have you seen all the sharks in the ocean?”

He snorted. Somehow this woman made him laugh even when he was exhausted. “No.”

“Then you don’t know that there aren’t that many. Maybe they’re all waiting in the shadows for you to drop your guard.” She crossed her arms over her chest, letting him carry her weight with so much trust it humbled him. “I think you have a lot to learn, Imber.”

“About my own home?”

“About everything.” A warm spark in her eye nearly set him on fire. “About me.”

Ah, and there it was. The warm scent of her in the water that turned his entire body into pure muscle and anticipation. He wanted her. He could still taste her, even though he’d tried very hard to ignore that fact.

Now, as he swam them toward a coral grove with a winding labyrinth to get to the center, he had all the time in the world to explore her. “You aren’t too tired?” he asked, making sure that he was taking care of her at the least. “We can still rest.”

“I’ve been trying very hard to be polite to your family, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment you touched me in the kelp forest.” She looped her arms around his neck, drawing him down to press a lingering kiss to his gills. And oh, he fluttered.

He fluttered so hard that he could see the sand moving from how hard he shifted the water around them. He was creating a current all of his own because of how badly he wanted her.

But first, he really should tell her how they were different. Or at least, he assumed there were differences. After all, she looked nothing like the females of his species. She didn’t have a single tail. There wasn’t a small slot in the front like there would be for his females. And he didn’t have to wrap his tail around her to hold her in place.

She’d stayed right where he wanted her. Almost as though the weight of him was welcome as he’d feasted upon her flesh. The experience with her had been entirely about pleasure and without an ounce of pain.

“I am…” He cleared his throat. “Not like your kind.”

“I know,” she replied with a gleam in her eyes. “And I’m looking forward to seeing how different you are, Imber.”

Chapter

Eleven

She knew that he was worried. She’d been worried when he first touched her, because she knew how different they were. Alys had been afraid to disappoint him. She had worried he might see the differences and find her ugly.

But he hadn’t. Imber had looked at her and reacted like she was a goddess and he was the lucky bastard who got to spend a few minutes with her. That reaction, more than anything else, gave her the courage to take control.

If he needed her to prove that she wasn’t afraid, and in fact elated to have this moment with him, then she would happily do so. Nothing would distract her from this. Especially now that he had laid her out, surrounded by a rainbow of coral, and he was right here. Ready for her to do whatever she wanted with him.

Biting her lip, she eyed the nervous expression on his face before deciding she knew what to do.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” she whispered, planting her hands against his chest and giving him a little shove. He didn’t fight her.

Imber rolled onto his back, allowing her to straddle him and to gently move their connection to her right. She wanted that cord within sight, but she also didn’t want to think about it. Distractions had no place here.

Then she forgot about the dangers of being underwater and instead focused on the handsome creature splayed out underneath her. She skated her fingers over his chest, letting her fingers dip into the hollows where muscles created shadows. He was warmer than she expected. Normally, he was a rather chilly creature to touch.

But every time she pressed down on a new muscle, or moved farther down his body, he seemed to radiate even more heat. As she watched, the gills on the side of his neck flared out, shaking just a bit with nerves or perhaps with want.

“Alys,” he murmured, licking his lips as his eyes went even darker. “I don’t know that you’ll like what you find.”

“Hm?” She leaned down and flicked one of his rib gills with her tongue. “I don’t know why or how you’re still thinking.”

Although he didn’t seem to hear the words she said. Because he was arching into her, his spine curving as her lips and tongue descended on one of the most sensitive parts of his body. He shook against her, this massive creature quaking in her arms all because of her soft lips and darting tongue.

She could get used to this. Having him come apart underneath her was surprisingly empowering.

Perhaps this was how he’d felt when she lay beneath him as well. Writhing in the sands because he’d brought her to such an incredible peak that she’d seen stars.

Again she hummed, and his tail thudded hard against the sand as she slid her lips a little lower. Tracing the lines of his abs with her tongue and then biting down on his side with a sharp little nip that had him hissing out a breath. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised as he clearly tried to get control of himself.

“What are you doing?” he rasped.

“Do your people not do this?”

“I don’t know what you’re even trying to do.” His hands clenched in the sands, and she wondered if he was trying to stop himself from yanking her up to his face. “I told you already, Alys. My people’s mating dance is brutal and painful. Especially for the male.”

She let out a little mewl that made her question if she’d even made the noise. The pitying sound was so teasing and so… erotic. “Poor Imber. I should make that up to you.”

His dark eyes flashed with desire, and his voice deepened. “Just how are you going to that, little one?”

She could explain it to him, but she wanted to show him. Alys moved down his body, allowing his tail to slither between her legs. His scales dragged over her folds and the slight abrasion had her shuddering. But right now wasn’t about her. All she had to do was find his… well, hopefully he had….

Her hands smoothed over a part of his scales that didn’t feel like the rest. She wasn’t sure why it felt different. Perhaps it was that it felt a little hollow compared to the rest of his scales. But she knew right away that this must be the area she was looking for.

She could only hope he had a cock like a human. Things would be fine if he didn’t. She’d miss certain aspects of that but… her fingers grazed over the area and then he was there. All at once, sliding out from behind the scales and revealing that he definitely had a cock.

In fact, he had two.

“Two,” she whispered, taken a little aback by the discovery.

He looked down his body at her, still laid out on the sands like a banquet she could feast upon whenever she wanted. And he looked… nervous. “Is that a surprise?”

“Definitely.” She needed to maybe not stare at him with such wide-eyed shock. But two of them.

And they were huge, lying right on top of the other. Long and tapered, at the very least, so she could imagine they would go in rather easy. The tip was significantly thinner than the rest of him, and all smooth. Very little texture, and ridiculously wide at the base. She wasn’t entirely sure it was logical that she could take all of him but the more she stared, the more she wanted to try.

Perhaps she should ease into it. Perhaps she should just try to see where her original plan got them. So, making eye contact with him and a little smile, she licked the top one from the base to the tip.

She didn’t miss the nervous expression before he slammed his head back against the sands. Of course, that would make sense. He’d said his people had a rather violent sexual experience whenever they were together, so it made sense that he’d likely never experienced this before. A blowjob wasn’t conducive to pain.

Licking him again, she gently slid the tip of him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. She took her time learning what made him gasp and writhe against the sands. Mostly because she didn’t know his anatomy, and also because she liked having him at her mercy.

His claws dug into the sand. The fluke of his tail slapped against the ground multiple times before she felt him wrap the very tip around her leg. Almost as though he wanted to coil around her like a snake, but knew that if he did that, she might stop what she was doing. And he couldn’t let her stop what she was doing. Not when he wanted it so badly.

It was different from any of her other sexual experiences. He wasn’t built like a human, but she wasn’t built like him. The more she licked and touched, the more she thought this might actually be possible.

“Alys,” he groaned. “You have to stop. I’m going to—”

She didn’t want to stop.

So she didn’t.

In fact, she sucked even harder. Squeezed with her hands a little tighter, just to see what would happen. What did he taste like?

Then his cock jumped against her tongue and suddenly he was spurting into her mouth. Not eggs, as she had the briefest flicker of fear that he might. But a rather umami flavored seed that coated her mouth with a not so unpleasant flavor at all.

When she opened her eyes, the iridescent liquid had escaped her lips. It floated up between them, shimmering like a rainbow, and she had the strange sensation that it might be the prettiest thing she’d ever seen before.

Then he reached down for her, gently dragging a claw tipped finger over her bottom lip. He looked at her like she was a goddess. And maybe, just maybe, she was a little.

“I didn’t realize your mouth could do that.” He pressed a little harder against her lips, forcing her to open her mouth. “I don’t think I’ll look at it the same way again.”

She licked the tip of his finger. “Well, I had to return the favor.”

Those eyes darkened, and he sat up. Pulling her with him, he wedged her in his lap and she felt how hard he still was. Impossibly. She hadn’t thought…

With a gasp, she froze as he lifted her just enough to put the head of his bottom cock against her entrance.

“Wait,” she whispered. “You can still…”

“Alys, I have two of them for a reason.” Those dark eyes met hers with an intent stare. “As long as you still wish to…”

“Yes!” she blurted a little too quickly. “It’s just, normally, there’s a refractory period.”

“A what?”

“Men don’t stay hard where I come from.” She reached down and touched the top cock that was still half hard. “There’s some benefit to having you around, I see.”

The crooked grin on his face was enough to send a rush of heat between her legs. “Oh, Alys, you have no idea how much you’re going to like having me as your mate.”

She should have argued that he wasn’t her mate. That the term was a little too barbaric for her, but she didn’t. Instead, she reveled in the thrill the words sent shooting through her body as his tail suddenly undulated behind her. He looped it around her waist, locking her in place even as the rest of it created a comfortable brace for her back.

Then he flexed all those muscles in his tail and the head of him slid inside her. She felt her mouth drop open as she made a little sound of surprise. Even the head of him, and she’d had that in her mouth, was so big.

His face contorted with pleasure, those fangs bared as he wedged himself a little deeper, drawing back only to push in a little farther the next time. He eased himself inside her, slowly working over and over again with so much patience that it made her heart race.

Throughout it all, he whispered encouragement.

“Alys, yes. Breathe, you beautiful woman. Breathe for me, love. Look how well you take me.”

She hadn’t realized just how much she enjoyed hearing the deep sound of his voice, and the praise that dripped off his tongue so easily.

He leaned down, his long tongue wrapping nearly entirely around her breast as the tip teased her nipples into hard points that ached for more of his touch. More of him. She needed him, wanted him, and then she felt him bottom out inside her. He groaned, and the sound mixed with the whimper of need that made her throat tighten.

“Move,” she said. “Please, I want to feel you.”

It was all he needed. He drew back and slammed inside her so hard she felt her teeth rattle, but it didn’t matter. It was everything she had asked for and more. What he lacked in texture, he made up for in stretching her so wide it was hard to breathe sometimes.

Every slam inside her, every slow glide, it brought her closer and closer to the orgasm she chased. Needing. Wanting. Aching for what he could give her until… until…

He reached between them and pressed his other cock against her, rubbing it with every stroke against her clit. The sensation of him, of being filled by him and still having more than she could touch and taste if she wished. It was too much. Both cocks were so hard now and he was touching her with both of them.

She clamped down on him, so tight he was forced to freeze inside her. A low growl echoed through his chest, fluttering his rib gills against her as he arched. It was so much, so perfect, everything she needed.

Alys had always closed her eyes when she came. It was a natural response, she’d always thought, sealing the emotions inside her because she couldn’t look at the other person while she felt such pleasure in her body. But this time, she kept her eyes open. She watched the monstrous being inside her come, and he was glorious.

Every muscle bulged with his release. He looked every bit the monster that she knew he could be, and yet, she wanted him even more. The sight of him losing himself completely inside her, the feel of the hot gush between her thighs, it only made her come even longer.

He was perfect. He was everything she hadn’t realized she’d been looking for until this moment, with his cock still twitching inside her and his already spent cock between them.

This wasn’t traditional. She couldn’t even claim it was normal.

But it was what she wanted, and she was so happy.

Imber’s tail shifted underneath her, dragging her limp body even closer to his arms so he could wrap her up in him. He let the ocean hold both of them, buoyant and comfortable as they slowly spiraled down from an orgasm that had shaken her to her very core.

Breathing hard still, she tried to suck as much air as she could from their connection. He was breathing just as ragged as her, so it was rather easy to catch her breath. It also connected them even more, because she knew what his body felt like. How hard it was for him to breathe right now, and how his heart thundered against hers.

Or two of his hearts, she supposed as she pressed her hands against both of the thuds and smiled up at him. “Still with me?”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and coiling her a little tighter in his grip. It meant that he slid out of her, but she was so wrapped in him that it didn’t matter.

Breathing together, safely tucked into the sands and surrounded by so much coral, it was like she was in a dream. As though she’d slipped into her greatest desire and stayed there.

All the worries bled out of her body until she only had him and her. Curled around each other, the softness in her heart spread into him.

She felt the little sigh that rocked through her body as he tucked her underneath his chin and they both slipped into sleep. There were no words for what they had just done.

There was only the knowledge that they were safe with each other. And as she drifted off into sleep, she realized she didn’t just feel safe with him physically.

Because she knew, without question, that he would also be careful with her heart.

Chapter

Twelve

He didn’t want to wake her, so he didn’t.

Imber laid there with her draped across his chest, trying to keep his breathing slow and quiet so she wouldn’t wake herself just because of the way he was breathing. He wanted her to sleep for as long as she needed.

She’d earned her rest. Even now, he could feel his cocks twitching at the memory. He would love nothing more than to wake her with a slow stroke between her legs, to see her eyes widen with desire and passion.

But he wasn’t an animal, as much as his form suggested that he might be. He couldn’t wake her up with expectations. Instead, he would allow her to continue to sleep because she trusted him. And this was enough for now.

Her hair laid across his shoulder, the silken feel of it so different from his own people’s. Her tails on either side of his hips made him worry she might wake a bit uncomfortable. At some point during the night, she had straightened them. When he noticed they drifted a bit in the currents, every time she stirred a bit in her sleep, he’d wrapped his tail around her. Giving her a brace against the sea she wasn’t yet used to.

Then she’d fallen into such a deep sleep, he almost felt as though he was breathing for her. Of course, he was, but he worried that she wouldn’t be breathing at all if he hadn’t been pushing air into her lungs with every deep breath of his own.

He just worried in general. She wasn’t built to live in the ocean like he was, and there were many reasons for him to be afraid for her. It hadn’t even been a full day yet since she’d been in the water, and already her fingertips were… wrong.

He was used to seeing them smooth like his own skin. But he’d lifted her hand to his lips just a few hours ago and noticed that her skin was waterlogged and wrinkly.

Wrong. It was wrong. He needed to ask her what was happening to her while she was in the water, and what they could do to stop it from happening.

A ripple of movement caught his attention above their heads. A shadow passing in front of the sun, a long tail and a sleek body that was designed for hunting. His sister. He would know Virago in any shape or form, at any distance.

Why would she be coming out here? Hadn’t she been the one to tease him that he should take his mate and attend to her? Frowning, he closed his arms a little more tightly around his little achromos.

A low sound echoed through his chest, not quite loud enough to wake Alys but enough for his sister to hear. And she did. Quickly changing directions, his sister dove toward them. When she was closer, he could smell the fear drifting off her body in waves.

“What happened?” he asked, noting that her daughter was not attached to her hip.

“The achromos have come.” Virago’s eyes skated over Alys, curled up in his arms, and she hadn’t even stirred yet. “You’ve made quick work of your mate, I see.”

“Virago,” he growled.

“We knew they were coming for our home, brother. We knew they were going to arrive sooner rather than later.”

“Where is my niece?”

“Safe, with the others. We need to gather all the things that we can, and those who were too weak to do so have already moved. I tried to give you time with her, but there is no more time left.” Virago’s gills spread wide around her face and ribs, and he knew then that the situation was dire.

They weren’t ever getting their home back. It was just like Alys said. Her people didn’t care what they were doing to the ocean. This was the spot they had chosen, and they would destroy it.

Alys stirred against him, her tails squeezing tight as she slowly came awake. She took a deep breath, sucking all the air out of his lungs in what he thought might be a yawn before she blinked her eyes open and looked up at him.

She was so adorable. Tucked up against him, all soft and warm and completely unaware of what was happening. Her nightmares were so far away in the dreaming world, but she had no way of knowing they had chased her into the real world.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice a little raspy with sleep and so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

“We have to wake, my wave song.”

“No sleeping in today, hm?”

Virago’s voice cut through their quiet conversation. “Your people have come to destroy ours, Alys of the achromos. I know this is not what you want to hear after the night you had with my brother, but you are able-bodied. If nothing, you can carry whatever we need.”

He felt his hearts turn over in his chest as her eyes widened. With a sharp slap of her hands against his chest, she sat up. Her hair billowed in front of her face and she had to shove all the golden locks out of her way to glare at his sister. “What do you mean?”

He repeated the words to his sister. And Virago sighed. “I mean there are metal beasts clearing the ocean. They approach our home and we need all the help we can get to move out of their way.”

Alys looked at him, then back at his sister. She spoke to him, but he had a feeling the words were for Virago as well, if his sister could have understood her. “I’m so sorry. I knew they were going to be coming, but I didn’t know it would be this soon. I thought you all had more time.”

He squeezed her thighs before unraveling their bodies. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, and kept an arm around her waist as he swam them up to his sister. “There was nothing you could have done, Alys. Like you said, none of us could stop this.”

His heart broke in the silence that followed. They swam through the currents and the waves, and he knew he was returning to what would be a very sad scene. His people had to flee from their homes. The places they had lived for years on end, even if they had only recently come back to these hunting grounds. He wasn’t even sure where they would go now. But they would find somewhere they were welcome.

Alys, on the other hand, seemed to take all this to heart. He could feel her growing more and more angry. The scent of it filled his gills.

These were her people, and she was deeply unhappy with them. He wouldn’t be surprised if her anger spilled onto others as well. There were a lot of people who were ready to be angry.

Now, all he could do was hope that he could control the situation.

It was no surprise that he couldn’t.

The moment they all crested the rise that brought them to his home, he could see the metal demons in the distance. They weren’t just scouting this time, they were destroying everything in their way. Countless of his people gathered whatever items they could. A few of them darted past, their arms already laden with food, tapestries, even a few of the stones to remember this place as it was before it was destroyed.

Virago stopped one of them, placing her hand on his arm. “Tell those who are already carrying things not to come back. We’ve run out of time.”

The man nodded and then swam as quickly as he could to catch up with the small group that was already heading off.

“How are you going to find them all?” Alys asked, watching as they seemingly darted in countless directions. “No one is going to the same place.”

“We always find each other.” He didn’t know how it was possible, but his people were good at coming back together. They would gather eventually. But for now, they all needed to get away from the metal demons in the distance.

His hearts squeezed as he looked at the billowing mass of dust and darkness behind the machines. They looked to be churning up the ground. Some of them were stuck at higher rises, but he could see they were eating away at the stone. Slowly digging themselves a flat plane. Anything in their way was destroyed. He could smell blood in the water, likely sea creatures who hadn’t swum away from them fast enough.

“Brother,” Virago said, her voice cutting through his horror. “We are needed.”

“Of course.”

He dragged Alys with him, although she hadn’t said much yet. Then he dove into gathering whatever he could. He thrust everything he came in contact with into her arms. Tapestries, rugs, woven jewelry, whatever his hands found, he tossed to her.

“Whose are these?” she asked, looking down into the mass of items in her arms.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, looking around for more things to grab. “It doesn’t matter right now. Once we’re all back together, we’ll figure out who owns what.”

“You act like you’ve done this before.”

“We have,” he absentmindedly replied, gathering things in his own arms now that he realized she couldn’t carry more. “Sometimes it’s natural disasters, other times your people get too close and we move again. We cannot take the risk of them finding out about us.”

“But they already know you exist.”

He froze as he remembered that. “Right. I need to tell the others about that so we don’t get too close on our scouting.” Arms full, he rotated, so she was above him. “Can you hold on to me?”

Her delicate hand wrapped around his shoulder and she held on as he swam them far away from those chomping machines that destroyed so much of his world. Imber felt a bit like he was leaving behind a version of himself that he might not get back. There was so much he didn’t know. So much he wanted answers to. But this place would not be where he gathered those answers. Not when he had so many people to take care of.

They moved a long distance away until he could smell some of his people gathered just on the edge of a drop off that disappeared into the abyss. He joined them there, his hearts aching. They all gathered together, tails twined as they watched their home disappear in the distance.

He dropped his armful of things and then turned to help Alys empty her arms as well. “We’ll wait here until we cannot any longer.”

“Why are they just going to watch?” she asked. Her face was redder than he remembered. “You’re all going to stay here and just watch your home get torn apart?”

“We mourn for what we lost,” he replied. “We will watch it because it should not die on its own. Just as we stay with those we love when it is their time. Nothing should disappear alone. Not even the place that holds so many memories for us.”

Her hands twisted in her skirts and suddenly she turned to him with a determined expression. “I don’t know those droids, but I think I can figure them out. I can dismantle them. If you get me close enough, then I can figure out how to stop them. We can freeze them in their tracks.”

Something in him cracked. He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek, loving her more than he ever had before. “They will just send more, Alys.”

“Then we will keep shutting them down. It will be a graveyard of metal beats, I know, but you will still have your home.”

“We do not wish to live in a graveyard.”

“You have to do something!” she shouted, her voice carrying until all of his people stared at her. She turned to them, as though they would help her instead of him. “You can’t just let them take your home. Not this easily. There are so many of you and those are just machines! I’ve seen Imber rip glass off my submarine. Surely there is something we can do.”

He touched her shoulder, squeezing a little too hard. “Alys. We could fight until there are none of us left, but we have seen what your people are capable of. We know when we are outmatched.”

She turned red rings eyes to him. “I cannot stand by and just let them do this.”

“Breathe, little one. And let it go.”

“It’s my fight too,” she snarled. “It’s my fight because you are now my people. I can help. You have me now. It’s not just your people who cannot fathom what mine have created. Those are just droids. They rely on wires and technology, which means there are parts of them that cannot be exposed to salt water. I can figure this out, Imber.”

He wished it was that easy. He wished his people could return to a nest that had so much hardship but even now, looking at the destroyed landscape and all the black dust that already was at the edge of where they had lived and he knew… none of them would ever return to that haunted place.

“It’s too late, Alys.” He patted her shoulder a few times, trying to draw her back to this moment. “There are people here who need our help. We can help them. They are right in front of us, and we will not stop helping others simply because there is a fight that we may or may not win. Our home is lost. Now we look to the home we can build.”

She let out a choked little sob. “I can’t do that. I can’t live with myself if I don’t try, Imber.”

Sighing, he let her spin away from him and lunge back to where they had come from. He could feel his hearts breaking, and the way his stomach rolled as she disconnected from him. No longer breathing for both of them, he took a deep breath into his lungs for the first time in a full day.

She had to feel it. She must have realized that she’d ripped herself free, and still she swam as though she could cross that distance without him.

Virago swam to his side, an amused expression on her face. “She’s a feral little thing. What just happened?”

“She wants to go back and destroy her people’s creations,” he murmured. “She thinks she can stop them all.”

“Then she is delusional as well as fierce. Sounds like someone I know.” Virago slapped his back hard enough to rock him forward. “Go get your mate, brother. I’ll gather the others while we can.”

He swam after the short distance Alys had gone and then gathered her up in his arms. She slapped at him, even raked his skin with her tiny claws as she struggled to free herself. But by the time he’d connected them, forcing air through the tentacle and into her lungs, she’d lost all her fight.

Limp in his arms, he gathered her close to his hearts, pressed a kiss to her temple, and whispered into her hair, “It’s gone, Alys. It’s already gone.”

Chapter

Thirteen

Alys surveyed the devastation with a sense of detachment. It was almost like she wasn’t here at all. Looking over what had once been a home, and she’d only gotten a small glimpse of it.

Had it ever really been here? Had she made it up in her head?

All the machines had left. The droids that were made to landscape and terraform had completed their job. And now, she came back with Imber and his people to see the decimation of what had once been a beautiful coil of nests.

The little stone patterns were gone. Just dust in their place. They couldn’t even swim too close to the ground because all the dust left over from the machines was so fine that it would puff up and darken the water. So they stayed far above the home of the undines, even though she could see how badly they wanted to visit it. Even just to touch the ground with their hands, so they could feel connected to this place one last time.

Her heart broke for them. With them.

And when another undine appeared out of the foggy water, his face dirty and his hands shaking, she knew there was still more to grieve.

Imber held her tight to him as they sped through the water. They fairly flew to another group of undines who had somehow gotten injured. She wasn’t sure how or what had happened. It didn’t matter in the end. They were injured. She had two good hands. If she could help, she would.

So she spent hours doing whatever it was that the undines needed. Alys patched people up who had scrapes or cuts. She smeared foul feeling liquid onto their wounds and held their hands while others stitched them together. She did whatever was required of her, because it was the only thing she could do.

Her people were the ones who had caused this. She felt like she owed them so much, even if all she had right now was her time.

Imber sat behind her, doing the same thing. Their backs touched often. He would reach behind him and gently trail his fingers over her hip sometimes, just to let her know he was still there. Still with her.

But it didn’t help. Nothing she did helped.

No matter how many people she bandaged, patched, or just sat and held their hands, it didn’t change what had happened. Their homes were gone. Their hopes were drenched underneath years of fear that her people had breathed into them.

Though not all of them knew she could understand them, she could. She listened to their fears and their worries. How they still hadn’t found one of their dear friends who had fled. What if one of those metal creatures had gotten ahold of them? There was blood in the water. They could all smell it. Something had happened and now they couldn’t put themselves back together.

Maybe it would change soon. Maybe these people were hardy and strong. They’d come out of this as better versions of themselves, having survived something difficult together.

But she looked at them and she thought… this was her fault.

“Alys?” Imber asked. His tail came around her like a giant snake, circling her entire body and pushing away those who had been close to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked as the other undine’s hand slid out of hers. She narrowed her gaze at the thick muscle suddenly banding around her waist. “Why are you circling me?”

He reached for her hands, lifting them and holding them in front of her eyes.

Her fingers were bleeding. Red bloomed in the weak light, and then his entire body lit up. Bright, sparkling points of green up and down his form. It only illuminated the blood even more.

All the help she’d given, every moment of her trying to make up for what her people had done, she hadn’t realized she’d been risking herself so much. Staring down at her fingers now, she realized that she was going to die very soon if they didn’t do something. Somehow, in all of this, Alys had forgotten that humans can’t stay in the water for so long.

Her skin was wrinkled and pale, skin cracking on her palms, and then she suddenly realized there were far more effects of staying underwater this long. She hadn’t noticed because she was so upset that it had been easy to ignore how badly her body hurt. Now, seeing herself injured, it hit her like a sledgehammer.

Her body ached, all of her muscles feeling tired in a way that they’d never felt before. She was so thirsty and had a headache blooming behind her eyes that had only happened once before when she’d gone too long without water. But this time it was so much more intense right between her eyes, like her brain was warning her about… something. Her stomach clenched in hunger, but she didn’t know how long it had been since she’d eaten anything.

She didn’t even realize that her body was listing to the side until Imber gently propped her up. He pulled her pale, wrinkled hands out of her eyesight. “What is happening to you?”

“I think the water…” Alys lifted her shaking hands again, just so she could see the damage. So it wasn’t entirely made up in her own head. “I can’t stay in the water this long. How long has it been?”

His concerned gaze focused on her hands before he cleared his throat. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“How many sunrises?”

“Three.”

“How deep are we?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what that means. There is no measurement for me to give you.”

She looked up at the surface, her mind ticking through all the possibilities. She didn’t think she was deep enough to get the bends. It wasn’t likely, anyway. What if all of this made her sick? What if going to the surface made her blood boil and her body just gave up?

“Slowly,” she finally whispered. “I need to go to the surface very slowly. Just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

With a wide-eyed stare, she hoped she conveyed how terrified she was. And to his credit, Imber didn’t question her any more. He just gathered her in his arms and started their ascent.

They weren’t that far down, come to find out. It only took them a few minutes to get to where she could see the surface clearly. But she could also see there wasn’t any land anywhere near them.

“I need to get out of the water,” she said. And everything in her hurt. She needed food. She needed fresh water. She needed…

Not to be here.

Her heart broke. She wanted to be with him and now, it was startlingly real that this might not be possible. They were creatures from two very different places in this world, and neither of them could change that.

He swam with her all the way to the surface, holding her head above the water so she didn’t have to kick or swim. She was limp in his arms, allowing him to do all the work as she stared up at the cloudy sky.

Almost delirious, the only thing she could think to say was, “It looks like a storm is coming.”

“There are always storms, Alys.”

“This one looks worse than normal,” she whispered, before turning her tear filled gaze to him. “I’m so sorry, Imber.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I’ve only been down here a few days with you and I’m already breaking apart. I’m in pieces. I thought we could…”

Imber let out a little grumble before drawing her closer. He pressed their foreheads together, above the sea. The waves caressed her cheeks, and the air made her shiver, even though he lent her some small amount of warmth.

Gently, he pulled the cord out of her neck and held onto the back of her head with a fierce grip. “You and I were meant for each other, my wave song. That doesn’t mean this will be easy, or that we will not have to fight for each other. But we will be fine, Alys. You and I are more than the sea and the sky. Will we fight through this, just as we have fought through everything. Now, tell me what you need.”

She didn’t want to tell him what she needed because it meant they would be parted. She didn’t know if they would ever see each other again if she did what she knew had to be done.

“I need to go back,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the words. “I’m so sorry.”

“Back?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. But then he blew out a long breath and nodded. “Because you can’t survive very long under the ocean, can you?”

“I can’t survive in water for so long.” She didn’t want to disappoint him. She didn’t want to disappoint herself, but everything was so clear. “I have to see my father. Maybe…”

They both stared at each other and she knew he was thinking the same thing as her. Her father wasn’t the safest person for her to go, but there was no one that was safe.

Sighing, Imber nodded. “I trust you. Wherever you need me to take you, I will bring you there. And we will continue on as we always have. You and I were meant to be together. I have no fear that we will not find each other again after this.”

Grabbing onto his face with her worn and torn hands, she squeezed as hard as she could so he would know she was serious. “I will come back to you, Imber. There is nothing on this planet that can stop me. I will be back, and I will come home. Do you hear me?”

“Home?”

“You are my home.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, wondering if even her face wasn’t the same as it had been before. “You will always be my home.”

Words pressed against her lips. Words that would bind her to him far more than anything else she’d ever said before.

Did she say it? Did she tell him how she really felt when he hadn’t said the same? She’d never been the first person to admit feelings in a relationship, but then again, this could very well be the last time she’d ever seen him.

So with no one but him to hear her, with the waves crashing around their shoulders, she said bright and clear, “I love you, Imber. More than I can really say. You have changed my life for the better and I refuse to go back to how it was before. I’d rather die. Without you at my side, the world is colorless and bleak. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I don’t think I really care either way. You are everything I have ever wanted.”

He smiled at her, then pressed a kiss to her palm before swimming them toward what she could only assume was her old home. “Haven’t you been listening, Alys? I’ve called you my mate more times than I can count. I chose you for life, whether you will have me or not. I am yours, my wave song. All yours to do with as you wish, and that will never change.”

With that thought warming her heart, she laid back and let him do all the work. He kept them both above the water so she could get some fresh air, but she also wondered if it was because he wanted to slow them down. If he didn’t rush through the water toward her people, then he could hold her a little longer. What were a few more moments when it came to the end they feared?

Still, they reached her old home far too soon. She could sense it. Even though her eyes were turned up toward the sky, she knew the moment he tensed underneath her back that they were close. Even his clawed hands flexed on her waist, as though he wouldn’t let go of her after all.

Alys knew the turmoil that ran through his mind. There was so much he wanted to say. Or perhaps that he wanted to do. His people were fighters, and his hands tightened around her waist. Perhaps he was thinking of keeping her, and not let her return.

But if he kept her, then he was the one hurting her. It was a struggle he did not know how to win. Unfortunately, she didn’t think there was any winning in this situation.

“Here we are, wave song.” The nickname shifted into one that warmed her cold bones. It made almost everything all right as he turned her in his arms and pressed their foreheads together again. “Come back to me.”

“Always.”

“You promise?”

She took a deep breath. “I more than promise. I vow to you, here and now, that I will not leave you for any longer than I have to. I will come to our home and I will figure out a way to fix this. I love you, Imber, and I will not be parted from you any longer than is necessary.”

He nodded, seeming to understand that she needed him to know that she was telling the truth. Every ounce of her being wanted to be with him, and she suspected it was the same for him.

He took them underneath one of the docks, the one nearest to her home. She didn’t ask how he knew where she lived. It just seemed right that he did.

There was a small ladder underneath the dock near her home. Her father had put it there just in case one of the submarines ran out of fuel and had to be serviced close to them. It took every ounce of her energy to put her hands on the rungs and pull herself up. Hand by hand. Movement by movement. By the time she got onto the dock, she wanted to lie down on it and catch her breath. But she also knew that Imber was watching her.

Anyone could be watching her. The last thing she needed was the General or his men realizing that she had come home with one of the undines. They would take him. Exploit him.

Or perhaps they would just kill him. Without questioning why or how he was at their home, they might just shoot him on sight.

So she rolled onto her hands and knees, breathing so hard she could taste metal in her mouth. But she still poked her head over the edge and attempted a smile down at him. “I’m all right,” she said. “I’ll be back soon. I will find you, Imber.”

He pressed his hand to his heart and then reached the webbed fingers out to her. “My heart is yours, Alys. Take good care of it.”

And then he sank beneath the waves as she forced herself to her feet and staggered toward her home. There was a side door she could slip into if she was careful and quiet.

Then maybe she could find her father.

Chapter

Fourteen

Everything was a whirlwind after that. Imber watched from below the dock as she slipped into the house and there was very little he could see from the water. But her father was a sneaky man, far more than his daughter likely realized. Imber could watch him far easier than he could his mate.

The professor had built himself more than just the one facility to keep all the items from Imber’s people. His sister had come here to investigate after he’d told her what Alys had told him. It didn’t take very long for them to put two and two together.

Obviously, Alys’s father hadn’t told her everything.

Which meant it was up to him and his people to find out the whole truth about what this man didn’t want Alys to see. Easily enough, really, because her father had built himself a tank underneath the ocean to sit in.

Or something like that. Virago had only explained it in simple terms, and he thought it was long pastime for him to see it himself. It wasn’t hidden, not really. Alys had never swum near their home or she would have seen it. Anyone could see it.

Her father had added another level underneath their home, and the majority of it was glass. Imber could see right through the walls and track every step the professor made. Though the man was deep in thought, he really should look up at the glass more often. If he had, then he would see Imber floating right beyond it.

Alys had said her people were dangerous. She told him about the many risks and how nervous she was about all of it. In some sense, he knew there was logic to her fear. He had seen what their machines had done to his home and how those creations had eaten up rock and mountains of land that stood in their way. He knew there were likely other creations they had made as well.

But if he were to meet one alone, without any of their metal warriors, Imber had no question he was the stronger creature.

So he stayed where he was. Unafraid that her father would see him on the other side of the glass, watching him. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted the old man to see him. To feel the fear that surely he should feel.

Eventually, however, he got nervous. Alys had gone into the home a while ago and still her father was down here. The old man surely could hear her upstairs, or at the very least, she had to be shouting for him.

His mate needed help. And this was the only person who could give her that help.

Angry now, he slapped his fluke against the glass. Hard. That made the old man jump high enough that all the papers in his hands were flung into the air. They fell like the ash and dust that remained of his home before the man realized there was someone outside his window. Someone who was much larger and significantly more dangerous.

Imber bared his teeth in a pleased grin as he watched all the blood drain from the old man’s face. Fear flickered in his movements, and he looked over at the door before looking back at Imber. As though he thought the monster at his windows was about to break in and flood the entire place.

But Imber did not want to harm the old man. Not yet. Instead, he pressed a finger to his lips, as Alys had done to him once when he was talking too much, and then pointed up.

The professor clearly had no idea what that meant. Somehow his face turned even paler, like the inside of a clam shell. What a shame, really, because Imber enjoyed seeing the sun-kissed burnish of the achromo’s skin.

Again, he pointed up, then gestured for the old man to leave.

That seemed to get the professor moving, because he bolted from the room like it was about to implode at any minute. Rolling his eyes, Imber made sure he was tucked away and out of sight from anyone above the water.

He should return home. He should go back to his people and make sure they were well. But he couldn’t leave. Not yet, at least. He had to make sure that Alys was getting treated for whatever ailment bothered her, and then he could return to his people.

All he knew was that it felt as though he’d ripped out his heart when she walked away from him. He had seen the way she stumbled, the way pain had been laced in every single step, and he’d known in that moment he couldn’t leave.

Not yet.

Soon, he would convince himself that she was in good hands.

He had no idea how long he waited. Coiled around the base of the building, he could have been there for days on end. Likely was, considering how stiff his tail was. Eventually, though, he peeled himself away from the cold stone and looked through the glass.

There was a sound there, and one that he’d been waiting to hear.

The clipped footsteps coming down the stairs were too many to just be one person. Which meant the professor was returning with another person at his side. Imber knew he should dart away from the glass and hide. Who knew who the professor was bringing? The other person could easily be someone who was meant to fight against Imber, to attack him or burn him as they had his people before.

It was a risk he was willing to take. Just in case the person on the other side of the glass was… was…

Alys came down the stairs and filled the room like a ray of sunshine. Her golden hair had been washed and brushed, and he could see it was just as beautiful as it had been when he’d first seen her. Those locks were shiny and smooth, falling around her head in a cascade of golden curls like a waterfall. Her skin was nearly back to normal, although there were still a few red lines at her joints that clearly hadn’t healed just yet. But the dark circles under her lovely eyes were gone, and the bright expression on her face was full of life.

Just as he would always remember her. Because this was how she looked the first time he’d met her, and it was that first glimpse that had filled his soul with sunlight.

She was so beautiful that it was hard to breathe when he looked at her.

And her? She bolted toward the glass the moment she saw him. Ran for him, moving faster than he’d realized her kind could until she was right there. So close he could have touched her if there wasn’t a barrier between them.

Just like the first time they’d seen each other, she lifted her hand and pressed it against the glass. So he mirrored her, wishing he could actually touch her.

He wanted to hold her and make sure that she was still really alive. He wanted to feel her against his chest, to know without a doubt, she wasn’t broken. She wasn’t still injured.

Though she still looked a little tired, she was now with him. He thought perhaps it had been days on end that he’d been here. His people must be wondering where he was, but he…

It didn’t matter. He was with his mate.

All of his gills flared wide, and he knew his tail was already lighting up. He took a risk that someone might see him, but he wanted her to know without words that he was happy to see her. He wanted her to know that he’d waited for her. And he would continue to wait until the very end of time if that was what it took.

Her father stood awkwardly behind her. Though there was a muffled quality to their voices, Imber could still make out what they were saying.

“So this is him?” her father asked.

“This is Imber, Dad.”

“Imber,” her father repeated, as though trying to press the name into memory. Then he did something that Imber didn’t expect. The professor walked right up to the glass and cleared his throat. “We haven’t been officially introduced, but hello. My name is Jasper Fairweather, and I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

He blinked at the old man, surprised that he was so bold when the last time he’d seen him, the man had run up the stairs, tripping as he went. “Any family of Alys’s is family of mine. If they’re brave enough.”

Alys eyed him before repeating the words to her father, word for word. Even the last bit that he had intended to be nothing more than intimidation.

Jasper swallowed hard, his throat working before he nodded. “It’s not as easy as you make it sound, I’m afraid. There are more people at risk here than just you or I. I’m sure you know about the city we intend to build.”

“My home was destroyed, old man. I think we know your people are out to kill mine.”

Again, Alys repeated it, although she gave him a glare before adding on, “We were there when the droids started clearing and flattening for Alpha. His people were living there, Dad. More than that, there were some of his people who were injured. It’s not right what is happening.”

“I already told you I cannot stop it.” Her father staggered over to a large box covered in paper and sat down behind it. “There is little I can do. I could sabotage the architectural plans, but all that would succeed in doing is murdering countless people. The city would implode, and their home would still be gone. But on top of it, there would be hundreds, if not thousands, of our own people dead.”

“You shouldn’t have designed it in the first place,” Alys hissed.

“I know.” Her father looked first at her, then at Imber on the other side of the glass. His gaze lingered where their hands were still pressed together, his voice shaking as he replied. “I know there was so much I could have done differently. It’s why I’m not suggesting that I go back with you. My darling, there is nothing I can do now. I have to go down with my own ship.”

“You aren’t a captain, Dad.”

“No, but I am the person who created the destruction. I’m not going to ask him or his people to forgive me. I have done something that is unforgivable.” Her father leaned forward, his fingertips pressed together against his lips. “But perhaps there is still something I can do for my daughter. The only person I have ever really loved.”

Silence fell then.

Imber wanted to ask what the old man was talking about. How could he help Alys? The ocean would forever wear at her body, and though he suspected there was some form of magic to what the achromos did, he didn’t think it was possible to change her body into something else.

Alys let her hand slip from the glass as she turned to her father. “What do you mean?”

“You cannot stay here.” The old man looked defeated as he said it. “The General has already heard about your sub returning, ripped apart and without its pilot. There are too many variables at your return, and the man is already ridiculously suspicious about your friends coming and ruining his new city. You cannot be here. No one can know that you are.”

“I know that,” Alys replied, taking a step closer to her father. “I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“You need somewhere safe to live.”

Of that, he agreed. Imber swam to the window closer to her father, a little farther from Alys. “I agree with that. The ocean will kill her, old man. So what are you suggesting?”

Alys made a grumpy noise at him and then did not translate what he had just said. “Dad, I tried to live with him under the water. You, of all people, know what the ocean can do to our bodies. It’s just not possible for me to live there.”

“And you cannot live above the ocean either.”

Imber frowned, his eyes darting from achromos to achromos before growling, “And why is that?”

This time she translated for him, and Jasper turned to give him a look that clearly said her father wasn’t pleased with his daughter’s chosen mate. “We are all going under the sea for a reason, undine. There are many risks to staying above the water now. Our world is slowly dying. Between the storms, the volcanoes, the plagues, all of it. It’s sweeping across this world and there is nothing we can do to stop it. The only thing we can do now is to hide.”

“Then hide above the water,” he growled.

Jasper looked to his daughter for translation, then sighed. “I wish it were possible. There is nowhere left for us to hide. I could build my daughter a small home here in a few months, but within a year, it would be destroyed. For her to safely stay in touch with you, it has to be near the sea. And if it is near the sea, then the storms will rip it apart. She would die. Do you understand that? Above the sea, there is nowhere for her to safely live. And there is nowhere for us to go other than under the waves.”

So that was the problem. Her people were dying out, and they were fleeing in whatever direction they could to stay alive.

It posed a problem. Because he did not want to kill any species without cause, but he also did not want to share his home. Not with so many creatures who had no sense about them.

He grunted in understanding and then said, “Then you must bring the air to her.”

Alys translated, and her father nodded. “My thoughts exactly, undine. We will bring the air to her and that will be my parting gift to my daughter. A love letter made of metal and all the parts that will be needed to keep her alive into old age. Perhaps beyond. I have hope that maybe someday, our kind will see to reason that there is more we can give each other than battle and war.”

Imber did not share the same hope. Namely, because he didn’t believe it was possible.

Their kinds were designed to fight each other. To battle until the bitter end, until there was nothing left in the ocean but blood and salt.

Still, he nodded for the old man’s sake, and for Alys’s.

“Dad,” she whispered, and he saw that Alys’s face had paled as well. “What are you planning on doing?”

“I’m going to build you a home, my dear. An escape pod unlike anything else.” Her father seemed even more tired as he said the words. “But it will take time. Time that you need to stay here, hidden, so no one knows what I’m going to do. And then, at the last moment, I will set you free.”

It made Imber’s stomach roll, but he knew it was the best decision. So he swam closer to the window again, waiting for his mate to put her palm to the glass. “I will find you,” he said to her. This time, he made the promise. “And soon, my love, my mate, you will be home again.”

Chapter

Fifteen

Her father worked as quickly as he could. All the replicators were firing constantly, so much so that she could smell the molten metal most days. It still took months. Months on end while she hid in his home and pretended that she wasn’t listening to all the builders who came and went. That she didn’t care when they spoke about the progress they had made on Alpha.

Eventually, even she had to admit they had built something grand. An entire city encased in glass that would never leak. It was impossible to damage what her father had created. Three different bubbles, all encircling the city. If one was damaged, it was easy to fix without endangering the city. And even if they didn’t know how to fix it, there were still three shields between them and the world.

The oxygen remained stable. Everything grew quite well underneath the natural sunlight and also all the UV bulbs that they had throughout the entire encasement. Even on cloudy days, Alpha saw the sun.

They rushed the next project, already having her father working night and day on yet another iteration. This time, it would be Beta. The city that was made like skyscrapers, all exposed to the ocean. They wanted a city to put the riff raff. The people who would fix everything they needed, the blue-collar workers who didn’t need to be with the people who had already built Alpha.

In less than a few months, they created a new world and segregated everyone within it.

Her father worked so hard. First to make her a home so she didn’t have to live with his mistakes, and then for his people to have somewhere safe to go after Alpha decided they were no longer necessary.

He lived, ate, and breathed work. Sometimes she went into his secret office in the water, trying to get him to eat something. But he didn’t often eat.

Most of the time, he spent his minimal hours enacting his promise to his daughter. She didn’t know if that was because he loved her so much, or if he felt guilty for what he had done.

There were only so many hours in the day, though. And his guilt ate at him.

Eventually, he finished. He came into her room late at night, like a ghost of himself. Pale and staggering, he braced himself on the frame of her bedroom door and nodded. “It is done.”

“I will start packing.”

“Everything you need is already in there,” her father said, his voice crackling with age and exhaustion. “You have to go now.”

Alys stood, clutching her shawl around herself. She was in nothing but her white nightgown with a pale yellow shawl to keep her warm before bed. He really expected her to leave like this?

“Why?” she asked, furrowing her brows in confusion. “What is going on?”

“They’re coming to help pack the house. They want me working in Alpha from now on.” He looked around the room, then grabbed a photograph of her mother, her father, and Alys. “Keep this, at least. The rest you can leave.”

“Dad, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“You have to go, now. They’re going to be here very soon, and they will see what I have built. There’s no time for us to talk, Alys.” He drew her in for a tight hug, his chin on top of her head and then the briefest press of a kiss to her skull. “I will miss you, my girl. But maybe there will be a way for us to send messages to each other. You never know.”

“I’ll try my best.” She squeezed him tight as well, trying to press into him how much she appreciated all his work and how much she would miss him, too. For all that he had done, he was still her dad. And he still had done his best to make sure that he not only got her out of this place, but that she was happy and where she wanted to be.

The future waited for her. Soon she would see Imber again, and all the creatures that had made her fall in love with the sea. She would live and breathe with them, even if her life would be a little different than before.

She’d thought she would be elated at this moment, but there was a bittersweet sadness to it.

“I love you,” she whispered against her father’s shoulder. “I really do, you know?”

“I always know.” He drew back and framed her face with his hands. Holding onto her as he looked. Just looked. Like he didn’t want to forget the sight of her face and it made tears sting in her eyes. “Just like you will always know that I love you, my daughter. The best thing I have ever made was you. And will always be you.”

A single tear dripped down her cheek before they both burst into movement. She held the photo tightly as they sprinted out of the house toward the abandoned dock where her father had been building. No one came over here. No one ever even looked at their house, really, but they needed to make sure she was gone long before anyone else came.

Opening the top hatch, she clambered in before sticking her head out. “Dad!”

He looked back at her, an old man standing on an old dock, his shoulders curved and his body weighed down by time. “What is it?”

“How will I find them?” Neither of them had seen Imber or any undine in months. Not since the last time she’d seen him.

Her father grinned. “I think he’ll find you.”

She wasn’t sure how he was so certain of that, but… Well, she wasn’t going to question it. Alys slipped into the pilot station at the head of the massive ship he had built her. And really, it wasn’t a ship at all. It was a home.

She hadn’t gotten to explore the entire thing, but soon she would. And then she would be free. Really free.

Firing up the engines, she turned her new home away from the old one and set off into the sea. Alys didn’t know where she was going or how far she would need to travel to find him and the others. So she just… explored.

For weeks on end. Piloting her ship through all parts of the ocean she had never seen before. Endless darkness below her, wild creatures like whales and sharks and jellyfish that didn’t care when she moved through their masses. She saw perfect, glistening white sand, and so many forests of kelp and greenery that it seemed like they turned into emeralds in front of her eyes. So many creatures and plants that she’d never seen before. And she cataloged it all.

She spent most of her time cataloging all the things she found while she traveled. Alys had always wanted to have free rein of the sea and to go wherever she wanted. But she’d never thought it would come in the form of a pod that was her home as well.

Her father had done a miraculous job. It was large enough for her to walk from end to end most days around thirty times and feel a bit like she was getting some form of exercise. There was a bathroom with a small shower that filtered the salt out of the sea. The central area was mostly taken up by a large moon pool, but she rarely opened that, anyway. So it felt like there was a big empty space in the middle with three branches off of it.

The first branch had small stairs that went up to the bedroom with a glass dome over her mattress. She’d already started painting a mural around it, so it felt like she was sleeping in a bed of flowers.

The second branch went to her piloting area, which was mostly functional with many panels, buttons, and gadgets.

The last went to a massive garden. Or a greenhouse, she supposed. It also had a large glass dome surrounding it, so the plants got as much natural light as they were allowed. The rest of the UV light the pod provided. Already she had a ridiculous amount of food available, and she’d been spending her evenings canning vegetables and fruits, while also learning the fine art of drying herbs for flavor.

Who would have thought propagating plants was so interesting? But she found her new life to be thoroughly thrilling. She was the only one who could keep herself alive, and strangely, she had risen to that challenge with vigor and hope.

Of course, that hope wavered slightly the longer it took for him to find her, but… She was still holding on.

Tucking herself in at night was the hardest part. She settled in, pulling the down blankets up over her shoulders and staring up at the stars. She’d parked herself on a small rise tonight, a swimmable distance to the surface. For some reason, she really wanted to see the stars.

Tonight felt like she needed it. And it was a clear night, so why wouldn’t she see the beauty of the sky above her?

But this time, a dark shadow passed over the stars as she looked up at it. A shadow that wasn’t quite right for any of the whales and dolphins she’d seen before. It was… different.

Sitting straight up, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, she held her breath as the shadow got closer and closer.

“Imber,” she whispered at the same time the dark night sea lit up with a thousand sparkling emeralds.

Bolting out of bed, she got tangled up in the sheets and fell straight onto her face as she raced for the moon pool. Untangling herself as best she could, she dragged half of her bedding with her before she could slam her hand down on the level that opened the moon pool.

“Come on,” she muttered, jumping up and down as she waited. “Hurry up. Hurry up.”

She didn’t even think it might be another undine. She knew Imber. And her soul knew him, too.

The moment there was enough space for him to slip into the room, he was there. His dark head cresting the water and a wicked grin on his face that made every fiber of her being light on fire.

He stayed there, floating in the water with his hair plastered against his head, looking like a sea god waiting for her. That grin never budged, and his eyes never moved from her. “Alys,” he said, that deep voice sending shivers down her spine. “You finally came home.”

With an ear-piercing shriek, she launched herself into the water. Right into his waiting arms. His laughter echoed through her room, but she didn’t want to hear him laughing. She wanted to kiss him.

So she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and did just that. She kissed him with all the desire and waiting that she’d felt for months. It had been such a long time since she’d seen him, and it didn’t matter if he had found someone else or he’d moved on from her. She didn’t want to know.

Not yet, anyway. Right now, she just wanted to feel his soft lips against hers. To feel the bite of his sharp teeth and the strange sensation of his bumpy tongue against hers. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything and she would have him.

His arms tightened around her and he kissed her like he’d been counting every single day until he could kiss her again. Maybe he had. It certainly felt that way as he pressed months of despair and hope and agony against her tongue.

She had no idea how long they kissed. All she knew was that they could take as much time as they needed.

For the first time since knowing him, there was no clock. No time for them to keep track of. No reason to hurry. They could explore each other, love each other, in every way, shape, and form. It didn’t matter.

There was no one waiting for them this time. It was just the two of them.

And so, when she felt the prick at the side of her neck as he drifted with her under the water, she didn’t stop him. Her nightgown floated up around her waist and that was okay, too. She didn’t need it. He would keep her safe, and right now, she wasn’t all that worried about safety in the slightest.

She wanted him. He wanted her. And it had been months since they had last explored each other’s bodies.

There was no rush in any of their touches. Just long sighs and deep breaths as they relearned every inch of the other’s body. Imber had new scars, a few on his shoulders and one rather large one across his abs. She had gained a few pounds, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

And when he sank inside her, she felt her soul heal from all the times they’d been apart. She had missed him. So much. Now they were together, and it was overwhelming how happy she was.

Eventually he swam her back up to the moon pool, his arms still tightly wrapped around her as he set her on the edge.

He stayed between her parted legs, his hands on her face as he traced all the parts of her that he loved. His fingers lingered on her lips, her cheeks, her collarbone, like he couldn’t stop touching her.

“Alys,” he said again, his voice little more than a low murmur. “I have missed you so, my wave song.”

“I missed you, too.” She caught his hand to press a kiss to his palm. “How is everything?”

“We have a new home. There are more people who have come with us, others displaced by the work of the achromos. But soon it will be done, and we will be safe again.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I cannot leave this ship as often as I’d like, but I can visit with you. Visit them, if they’ll have me.”

“I think they’re happy on their own, love.” His eyes seemed a little distant, sadness bleeding into his gaze before he shook it free. “It would be best if it was just you and I.”

Though it made her sad, she understood. The undines had their own way of life and her people hadn’t made that way of life any easier. It was hard, but it was the right choice.

Nodding, she toyed with the ends of his hair. “Will that make you happy? I don’t want to isolate you.”

“Oh, you are my love, my mate, my everything,” he breathed. “I would not survive being parted from you again, Alys. Not even in death.”

When she drew him in for another kiss, Alys knew that maybe he was right. Maybe they were meant to be together forever. It certainly felt that way. But no matter what, their life would always be an adventure.

And there was no one she would rather adventure with than him.

Also by Emma Hamm

WHISPERS OF THE DEEP

(DEEP WATERS BOOK #1)

One of the many engineers that keeps Beta, the city under the sea, running, Mira only wants to make her family proud and to prove herself worthy. She knows the mysterious city better than anyone and it’s her dream to help it flourish.

But then, on a solo job in an abandoned section of the city, she encounters a monster of legend. An undine. A dangerous merman from an ancient civilization, long forgotten.

Arges has fought his entire life for his people. With deadly creatures under his control, he plans to eradicate Beta once and for all to protect his kind and their peaceful way of life. But when a human woman saves him, she unknowingly creates a bond between them, one he can’t ignore. Even though her flaming red hair haunts his dreams, he needs her for information on the undine’s enemies.

So he steals her. Keeps her. Feeds her. Only to realize their bond is far deeper than captor and captive. He cannot let her go—but he cannot keep her under the sea. In a battle to determine if love can survive a war beneath the waves, it will be their decision that changes the tides.

About Emma

Emma Hamm is a small town girl on a blueberry field in Maine. She writes stories that remind her of home, of fairytales, and of myths and legends that make her mind wander.

She can be found by the fireplace with a cup of tea and her three Maine Coon cats dipping their paws into the water without her knowing.

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www.emmahamm.com

Kings & Bones

BY JULIETTE CROSS

When Murgha’s degenerate father bets their last bit of coin and her in a high-stakes game of kings and bones, she fears she will become the property of the lecherous ambassador. But when the most fearsome dark fae she has ever seen steps into the game and wins the pot, she knows her fate is much worse. She is now owned by the enemy.

Prologue

MURGHA

“Don’t cry, Mur.”

My sister rocked me in her arms on the porch of our inn. Our father was in the yard, yelling obscenities at Mama. Her cheeks streaked with tears, she was on her knees, begging him.

“Please, Phestys. Let me stay.” She had her hands clasped together as if in prayer, her pretty, dark hair having come loose from her braid. “The girls need me.”

“The girls don’t need a whore to teach them nothing.”

Towering above her, he threw her satchel at her feet, the one she used to harvest herbs in the forest. But it was bulkier now, filled with the clothes I saw Papa stuff inside minutes ago.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I never meant…” She shook her head, biting her lip, her eyes full of pain and sorrow. Then her gaze flicked to me.

“Meant to what?” Papa leaned down and snarled, “Spread your legs for a moon fae bastard? I think you meant that well enough. Proof is right there.” He pointed to us on the porch steps. No, not to us. Just me.

Mama shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“Nor do I care to. You was gone three days this time, woman. Out whoring again, I suppose.”

She shook her head but didn’t deny it aloud.

“You’re no good to the girls or me. Get you gone.” He waved his hand, shooing her from the yard.

When she continued to shake her head and beg, her sad eyes flicking to me and Tessa, he picked her up by the arms.

“I said”—he tossed her out the gate where she fell in the dirt lane—“get you gone!”

I dug my fingers into Tessa’s waist where I held her close, but she didn’t complain. She kept petting my hair, trying to soothe me.

Papa stood with arms crossed at the foot of the stepping stones that led to our inn, scowling down at Mama. She hauled herself off the ground and heaved the satchel over her shoulder. Then she looked at me and Tessa.

Though her hair was mussed and her face pink and streaked with tears, she looked like she always did when she brought us into the forest to collect sorrel, milk thistle, juniper, or figwort. She’d taught us all of the plants with special properties to heal and to make our food taste good. She did so many things to make life more lovely, to make us feel loved. And now Papa was sending her away.

She offered us a sad smile and watery words of, “Be good, my sweet girls. I love you.”

Then she turned and walked down the path leading out of Myrkovir Forest. Papa grunted and stormed back to the house, stomping up the steps where we sat.

“Quit your weepin’ and get to your chores,” he grumbled as he passed us and slammed the door behind him.

I flinched in Tessa’s arms. She kept stroking my hair as we both continued to cry, watching Mama grow smaller and smaller until she disappeared around a bend.

“Don’t you worry, Mur. She’ll come back,” my sister promised. “Mama will come back.”

But she never did.

Chapter

One

MURGHA

Sixteen Years Later

The sprite was back. She was sitting on an upper shelf near the door where Papa had lined up several metal tankards—the ones he commissioned from the blacksmith to sell to travelers.

She was a wood sprite, no taller than my hand from the heel of my palm to the tip of my middle finger. She was quite pretty.

Her tiny female body was the vibrant blue of a summer sky, covered in downy feathers up to and over her breasts, where her skin, a paler blue, covered her throat and face. Her slender legs ended in sharp black talons, which she currently used to perch on the lip of the shelf above me.

She stretched out her black-tipped wings and yawned, revealing tiny, serrated teeth. Wood sprites had bird-like wings instead of arms like other sprites. Her head was small and smooth and covered in tiny blue feathers that curled up at the back of the neck. And she watched me with large, round black eyes.

I continued to sweep, trying to ignore the game of Kings and Bones Papa had been playing with customers for the past three hours. I wondered why she was watching me.

She’d first appeared not long after we settled here in these woods. Our high lord had been moving us frequently the past several years as the war between Northgall and Lumeria became more volatile. We’d settled here north of the Borderlands last winter in the dense forest not too far from Lake Moreen. And since the ambassador now sitting at the table with my father had carried the news to us that the war was over—had been over for months, actually—it seemed we’d be staying here.

I didn’t like it. We were currently living on Northgall lands. And while our high lord had assured us we were too far away from any of the dark fae to be in danger, I knew for a fact he was wrong.

My sister, Tessa, had been taken by one this past summer. Papa had been gravely ill, burning up with fever. She’d left in the middle of the night to fetch juniper to help with the fever, and she’d never returned.

The next morning, I found a letter attached to something small wrapped in fine leather on our doorstep. The letter bore my name in Tessa’s hand. Though it was certainly her penmanship, I was sure she was forced to write the letter, telling me she’d met a beast fae, who was now her mate.

That was ridiculous! We’d spoken that very night about how awful and terrifying the dark fae were. She’d never simply galivant off and leave me to mate with one.

In the letter, Tessa had asked me to meet her that night at the stream if I wanted to go and live with their clan instead of stay with Papa.

Nonsense. As if I’d fall for that. The beast fae who’d captured her had obviously forced her to write the letter to try to lure me away from home and the protection of our wood fae clan.

I didn’t fall for it, of course.

However, I did find a beautifully made dagger and scabbard wrapped inside the leather. Tessa’s letter had said it was a gift for my protection. It made me wonder about a captor who would allow her to send me a gift before spiriting her away in the middle of the night.

The dagger was small and fit perfectly in my hand. From that day on, I strapped the dagger to my thigh beneath my homespun dress. Without Tessa at my side, I felt even more vulnerable and would have to protect myself.

The wood sprite walked behind several tankards and settled right above my father and the men playing Kings and Bones like she was actually interested in the game. Curious.

I’d noticed her while I was gathering fennel in the woods last summer, not long before Tessa was taken. She’d followed me home that afternoon. When I called up to her in the branches, she said not a word, but simply watched me. All sprites could speak, but I wondered if she couldn’t since she never did.

She reappeared many times over the next several months, simply observing me as I hung the laundry to dry behind our inn or worked in the small garden out back. She even followed me from tree to tree when I went in search of herbs in the woods.

Since Tessa left, I found the wood sprite’s company comforting, even if she never spoke to me. She still felt like a friend.

“More mead, Murgha!” bellowed Papa from the corner table, his words slurring.

The sun was slanting through the western window, casting shadows on the rough wood plank floor.

There was no one else in the tavern of our four-room inn built beneath a giant black oak tree. The only customers were the three men at the table with Papa—the moon fae ambassador from Mevia and his two guardsmen.

“Hurry, girl,” Papa called, rattling the bits of stone and bone in the pewter bowl before scattering them on the board of kingdoms carved into the table.

“Well done, Phestys,” said the ambassador. “Seems you’re on a winning streak.”

My gut clenched as I retrieved a pitcher of mead from behind the bar and made my way to their table. Papa had always been a gambler. Even worse since Tessa left.

Once his fever had broken last summer, he’d stormed to the high lord’s council and demanded they go after the creature who’d stolen his daughter. But our high lord was a useless coward.

Even though it was his idea to leave our home in Myrkovir Forest and flee to a safer place away from the war, he was the one who rarely stayed in residence here. He was always leaving for some important summit in Morodon on the coast or somewhere far away.

Ironically, he’d taken us here for safety, and yet, Tessa had been stolen in the night. Simply vanished into thin air.

“So I am, my lord,” agreed Papa with a belchy chuckle, hauling his coin closer.

I poured him more mead then moved to the ambassador, a noble-born Mevian by the name of Rukard. Though I felt his eyes on me, I refused to look at him as I refilled his cup.

He was about Papa’s age, some gray at his temples, his long brown hair tied back in a tail. His fancy Mevian silk garb threaded with silver embroidery signified his importance. While I stood next to him, he flared his indigo wings as if he was trying to impress me.

The moon fae were the only light fae who had beautiful, iridescent wings, ones that my true father would’ve had.

The ambassador’s wings didn’t impress me, nor did his lecherous stare. His two guardsmen both wore the blue and silver armor of Mevia. They were bulkier than the ambassador, of course, and their wings were a deep shade of blue.

I couldn’t pretend their wings didn’t fascinate me a little. Wood fae were considered a lower caste, not as anointed by the gods to be given the gift of wings.

Yet, I was well aware that the color of my white-blond hair and violet eyes set me apart from other wood fae. Only the noble line of Issosian moon fae had the same coloring of hair and eyes as me. Except they also were all born with wings. I was not. I was a half-breed.

“Why don’t we up the stakes, Phestys?”

I glared at Rukard while I filled the bigger guard’s cup first. Rukard grinned at me, but his eyes kept wandering lower.

“I’ve got the pot now,” said Papa haughtily. “I’ll set the wager, my lord.”

I set the black-haired guard’s cup down, ignoring his sly wink at me then rounded him to place a hand gently on my father’s shoulder. “Papa, you’ve done so well. You should stash that away for good keeping. The winter will be here—”

“Oh, go on with you, Murgha.” He shoved me aside. “Go clean the tables from the customers.”

I didn’t bother telling him they were all clean because we’d had no customers since the ambassador and his men had arrived two days ago.

Wood fae didn’t much like the company of moon fae. It wasn’t that we were enemies, but moon fae would often throw their weight around, especially ones with the authority of a noble lord like Rukard. They made other fae nervous.

As they were making me right that very minute.

On the table, the kingdoms were carved into four squares around a circular center. Each of the squares represented four realms—the heavens marked with stars, the oceans marked with wavy lines, the earth marked with round stones, and the mountains marked with spiky peaks. At the center of them all was the circle of the three hells, divided into pie-shape triangles. And at the very center of the triangles was a throne.

When a player cast the pewter bowl filled with three stones, six leg bones and the skull of a rodent, wherever they landed determined the roller’s points for that round. I never bothered to learn the exact rules because I detested the game so much.

It seduced Papa into gambling away good money we needed to keep food in the larder and mead in our barrels. Not only for us but for our customers.

What I did know was that stones held more points than bones. The four realms on the outside were the safest and gave more points than the three hells. But anything landing on the throne doubled the points earned in that roll. And if the rodent skull landed on the throne, the roller was declared the winner no matter what anyone else rolled in the round.

Papa shoved every last coin he had into the empty square at the left of the table where the bets were made. “Everything in,” he chuckled.

A stone of dread sank to the pit of my stomach. I’d seen this before, my father’s unwavering optimism in conquering a player when it usually was the other way around.

“That’s mighty steep.” Rukard said with a serious expression while he scratched his clean-shaven chin thoughtfully. “But I’ll take the wager.”

He pulled from the inside pocket of his fine, embroidered jacket a leather satchel of coin that he upended onto the pile. It wasn’t just silver and copper pieces but the definitive sparkle of gold in the mix.

I gasped. So did Papa. But not for the same reason. While Papa’s eyes gleamed greedily, I knew that mine shone with fear.

“I’ll add this as well,” quipped Rukard, pulling a gold ring encrusted with a trio of sapphires from his finger and laying it on top of the coin with a heavy clink.

“I’m out,” said the dark-haired guardsmen.

“Me too,” added the other, leaning back and drinking his mead.

“How about you, Phestys?” asked Rukard. “Surely, you can stay in the game, a man of your resources.”

My stomach soured even more. Rukard knew exactly what to say to prick my father’s pride and urge him further on.

“I…uh…” Papa faltered on a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know if I can meet your wager.”

He glanced up at me where I’d frozen a few feet away with the pitcher of mead in hand before he pulled something small that sparkled from his trousers’ pocket and lay it next to the ring on the pile.

My free hand went instantly to my neck, even though I knew it wasn’t there. It was my necklace, the one treasure I had from my mother. She’d left it behind when she left us. When I was ten, I’d taken it from Papa’s box of trinkets and wore it from that day on.

Even though Papa had never given it to me, he saw that I had it and had never ordered me to give it back. When Tessa noticed, she simply said, ‘It looks pretty on you.’ And that was that.

Until about three months ago when it went missing. I’d thought maybe the chain had broken when I was working. I’d looked everywhere and had even asked Papa. He’d grumbled something about getting on with my chores.

But, apparently, he’d stolen it. It happened about the same time when Papa’s drinking and gambling had begun to spin out of control, carrying us closer and closer to the brink of ruin. I wondered if he’d already used it to gamble once and had won it back.

Rukard reached over and lifted the delicate silver chain, holding the moonstone in his palm. I wanted to reach over and jerk it from his nasty grasp.

“Well, well. This is quite the beauty. Delicate and lovely to be sure.” He tsked. “But if you want to meet my wager, you’ll have to come up with something more.”

“That’s all I’ve got, my lord.” Papa swiped a palm through his sweat-slick hair, and for a moment, I felt relief. He was going to give up.

But then Rukard’s gaze cut to me. An icy finger of dread trickled down my spine. “I believe you do have something of great value, Phestys.”

Papa’s gaze followed his. All four men were staring at me. I couldn’t imagine what my expression reflected. I felt frozen in utter fear that Papa would even consider it. And yet, I knew he would.

He’d only ever tolerated my presence, giving what affection he did have to Tessa. I was simply a servant in his house, another mouth to feed, but one who could earn her keep. Since Tessa left, it had become worse—his moods and his sour grumbling about the sad lot fate had dealt him as he sank further into his cups and into gambling.

“Papa…” I begged softly without saying anything more than his name.

He averted his gaze to the pile of sparkling coin and the sapphire on top. “Aye. My daughter Murgha would even the scales.”

“Indeed,” agreed Rukard with a lascivious grin before turning back to the game.

A flicker of blue caught my eye as the wood sprite zipped out the open window. A sense of doom weighed even heavier. It was like she’d sensed the coming shame and loss, for I was certain that Rukard didn’t want me as a servant to sweep his floors and clean his kitchen.

A round in the game of Kings and Bones consisted of each player rolling three times, the one with the highest total points winning the game. So I had the time it would take for six rolls to sneak my way through the kitchen to the residential part of the house where I could flee out the back.

Trembling, I rounded the bar to wash the now empty pitcher. I rinsed it quickly and set it on a towel to dry. Rattle, rattle, swish.

Papa rolled his first one. “Haha!” He laughed. “The finest roll yet,” he declared with glee.

“Quite so,” said Rukard, not seeming ruffled.

I kept my head down, pretending to clean items with trembling hands as I made my way closer to the swinging door that led into the kitchen.

“That was eighteen points on that one, my lord. Your roll.”

Rattle, rattle, swish.

“Not bad, not bad,” said Papa, a twinge of nervousness in his voice.

I kept wiping the towel down the bar then tossed it on a barrel before stepping toward the kitchen door.

A strong hand caught my arm and tugged me back. I gasped and looked over my shoulder at the dark-haired guard.

“Why don’t you come and watch the game, Murgha?” he said too familiarly.

I didn’t even know his name, nor had I ever introduced myself, yet the smug quirk on his mouth told me he wasn’t asking. He was telling me what to do.

“I should clean up after a long day,” I told him.

“No,” he declared, “you should come watch your new master win you to his house.”

My belly rolled with nausea again. I wondered how much longer before I’d empty my stomach onto the floor.

I didn’t resist because there was no use, but he hauled me back to the table roughly and forced me down onto a stool next to him at the bar. He let go of my arm, but his close proximity was a warning that he could snatch me if I tried to get away.

I clasped my hands in my lap, grazing the strap at my thigh that held my dagger beneath my dress. Relieved that I had that for protection at least, I blew out a shaky breath.

By the time they’d ended the second round, Rukard was up by five points. Papa didn’t seem dismayed. Like I’d said, he was an optimist in the throes of gambling. He always thought he’d win…until he didn’t.

My entire body was shaking by the time Papa scooped the bones and stones into the pewter cup and began to shake them for his final roll.

Rattle, rattle—

The tavern door slammed open, knocking the wall behind it with a shudder. Everyone jumped, but the guard at my side was on his feet, his sword unsheathed. Then, no one moved at all.

We were all frozen at the sight standing in the doorway, the setting sun silhouetting a giant shadow fae—one of demonkind—in all of his terrifying glory. His wide dragon-like wings blocked out nearly all of the light, his four horns curled back in an elegant crown over his sleek black hair.

Then he dipped his head and folded his wings tightly against his back so he could walk through the doorway made for light fae, not for the oversized demonkind.

The guard at my side stepped forward with more bravado than I thought he had and demanded, “State your purpose here, shadow fae. This inn does not accommodate the likes of you.”

The shadow fae stepped across the room, his heavy boots sounding hard on the wood floor. The newcomer stopped next to the table where Papa and Rukard were also staring in shock up at him. The dark fae’s red-eyed gaze flickered to each one of them, stopping on me for a lingering moment before returning his attention to the table, not to the guard who’d spoken to him.

“I am a shadow fae priest,” he stated in a deep, silken voice, “and I have come to play the game.”

Chapter

Two

MURGHA

At first, no one said a word. I’d heard of the shadow fae priests but knew only enough that if I encountered one, I should run fast in the other direction. They were the elite warriors of the shadow fae clans who lived in a city called Gadlizel high in the Solgavia Mountains. They were brutal and deadly and should not be trifled with.

Even so, the guard at my side decided that he would. He was either very stupid or very brave. Perhaps a bit of both.

“We don’t want your kind here,” said the guard. “You should leave.”

I’d expected the shadow fae to scowl with indignation, perhaps snap a few words about insolence and disrespect. However, the towering shadow fae did none of that. He merely arched one dark brow, his mouth quirking with what seemed amusement.

Again, he disregarded the guardsman, completely ignored him, and addressed Papa and Rukard, “I’m joining the game.”

This time, the silkiness in his voice was laced with warning.

“There’s only one roll left,” protested Rukard.

Papa was smart enough not to talk back to the lethal-looking stranger.

“Then you have a greater chance to win,” said the shadow fae. He placed two things on the table—first, an unsheathed black-steel blade about as long as my arm from shoulder to elbow, and second, a pouch of coin, twice as large as Rukard’s.

Papa’s smile finally appeared as he stared at the mound of coin that was fortune enough to last a lifetime.

“My roll,” said my father, gathering the stones and bones into the cup.

I hadn’t moved an inch since the stranger had appeared in the doorway. I suddenly realized my pulse throbbed in my throat, my heart rate speeding wildly.

Both guards had taken vigil behind Rukard, arms crossed and expressions grim. But my attention was entirely on the stranger.

I’d met a few wraith fae before, on my visits to the Borderlands, but I’d never seen a shadow fae this close. Only from a distance that one time.

On a late afternoon last winter, Tessa and I had been foraging in the woods for whatever we could find before the first snow.

“Look, Mur! Up there!” she’d shouted excitedly.

I followed where she pointed. “I don’t see anything.”

“By that tall mountain, don’t you see them? Shadow fae.”

And then I did. They were quite far away, thankfully, since Tessa was shouting loud enough to wake the dead. I watched the three dark fae creatures flying in a triangular line until they disappeared over the peak.

“Good thing they stay in their mountains,” I observed.

“Indeed.” Then we went back to foraging.

That had me wondering even more about the stranger. We’d been told by countless fae who lived in the area they didn’t often come down from their mountains. So why was he here, playing a game of Kings and Bones with the likes of my father and the ambassador?

I observed the stranger at my leisure, realizing something I hadn’t noticed at first because my attention was entirely drawn to his horns and wings and giant presence. He was strikingly beautiful.

His eyes were a shocking shade of crimson, and his face was carved into sharp, lovely lines at the cheeks and jaw, his mouth full and wide.

His intense gaze was on the game as Papa rolled, but it flicked to me long enough to make sweat bead down my back. I looked at the game to avoid his gaze.

“How about that?” Papa laughed heartily, tallying his points aloud. “That’s fifty-six you’ll have to beat.”

Though I didn’t play the game, I knew it was a high number.

Rukard took the cup and rattled it for his final roll. When he spilled the contents of the cup, I noted his wicked smile spread wide. I also noticed the fall of my father’s face. Though he’d never loved me as his own daughter and though I’d warned him countless times about his gambling, particularly this afternoon, I couldn’t help feeling pity for him.

“Seems I’m in the lead now,” said Rukard, sliding his smile to me.

I winced, realizing I could very well be leaving with this foul man. I let my hand rest on top of the dagger beneath my dress, taking comfort. I’d slice his face off, or something worse, if he tried to touch me.

I could search for Tessa. Perhaps, the beast fae who’d taken her was actually caring for her in his clan. It was my only option other than finding work in the Borderlands. But a young female alone was a prime target for all manner of crime.

The shadow fae reached his clawed hand across the table and scooped up the bones and stones into the cup. He rattled them once then flung them across the table.

Papa gasped. I couldn’t see properly from where I was sitting so I stood and stepped to the side, directly facing the stranger now. But I was staring at the board where the rodent skull sat perfectly at the center of the throne on the board.

I looked at the shadow fae who was staring at me, his expression hard, unyielding, and a glint of determination in his demon gaze.

“No,” declared Rukard. “You cheated. You used your magick to make that happen.”

For a moment, the shadow fae didn’t even acknowledge him, his gaze entirely on me. Then he blinked slowly and rose from the table, turning his attention to the blustering ambassador.

He replied with nothing more than a cold glare. Then he reached across the table and scooped up his pouch of coin, not bothering with the rest, and gripped his black-steel blade on the table. “Get your things, female.”

How did he know I had been wagered in this game? He’d entered the inn after the wager.

My mind spun at the prospect of leaving the only home I’d ever known—albeit a sad one lately—and going with this fearsome shadow fae.

“Now,” he clipped, his command jerking me into motion.

Instantly, I stalked away from the men, the tension mounting in the room. Perhaps they’d start fighting while I was gone gathering my things, then I could slip away. But as I crossed through the kitchen and into our private part of the house, I heard the distinct sound of heavy boots following me.

Chapter

Three

VALLON

She wasn’t what I imagined she’d be. The problem was I’d been thinking of her as a small child. My search for her using Gwendazelle had been fruitless for so many months. Who knew the half-breed fae would move right into dark fae territory so close to my own home?

It was the gods’ doing. They’d wanted me to find her.

I followed her scent through the small tavern and house since she’d practically run from the room. She’d try to run again, I was certain.

Just as I knew that ambassador and his guards would attack me once we left here. This was a small clan of wood fae. I’d discovered their lord had moved them here to avoid the war, and since the war was over, I’d thought he would have moved them back to their homeland in Lumeria. No matter the wraith king now occupied both Northgall and Lumeria, they’d have likely been more at ease back in their own part of the world.

Murgha was certainly not safe here. She stood out, not just as a light fae who didn’t belong in the dark fae realm, but as a half-breed moon and wood fae who didn’t fit in among her own kind. Not one wood fae had hair and eyes like hers.

That’s because it was a trait only passed down in the noble line of the moon fae, pure bloods believed to be descended from the Moon Goddess Lumera herself. And Murgha most definitely carried that blood in her veins.

Winding through the residence, I stepped into her bedchamber, smaller than the closet for my armor and weapons back in the Solgavia Mountains. Her nervous gaze flicked to mine, but she continued to pack the clothes from the small trunk at the foot of her bed into a cloth satchel. She kept silent but watchful while I remained at the doorway.

After she’d emptied whatever was in the trunk, she cinched the rope of the small pack and turned to me, lifting her chin defiantly. She didn’t question who I was, why I’d come, or where I was taking her. She simply looped a shabby green cloak around her shoulders, buckled the clasp, and waited.

Puzzled, I nodded at the door. “Come.”

Then I turned and exited through the back door rather than going through the tavern. I heard her light footsteps following. Otherwise, I would’ve spun around and lifted her over my shoulder to take her from this place.

As it was, I should’ve come sooner. There was a bluish tinge beneath her eyes and she was far too thin. She wasn’t being cared for properly by that worthless father of hers. Who wasn’t her father at all.

But I’d been too distracted by what was happening in Gadlizel. By serving my prince, I’d been neglecting my oath to my own father. My gut clenched at the sourness of it.

What if I hadn’t been stationed a few, short leagues from here? What if Gwenda hadn’t brought me the message in time that the innkeeper was gambling away his daughter to a lascivious piece of filth from Mevia?

When we stepped outside, I swept the area but found no sign of the ambassador and his guards. Not even the girl’s reprobate of a father. Nor did I see any wood fae coming to protest that a demon fae was stealing away with one of their clanswomen.

I snorted at the indignity of it. They’d let me take her with not even the smallest objection or struggle.

Above us, we were shrouded by a thick canopy of black oak trees. The branches were too thick and would likely scrape the female if I tried to fly straight out of here. It wouldn’t bother me in my armor, but her dress was threadbare, and the cloak she wore was no better. I’d have to find some better clothing for her before we reached Solgavia.

The clearing where I’d landed and had come into the village was only a little ways through the woods. We could lift off from there.

“This way, female,” I called over my shoulder.

She scowled, but followed me, which for some reason made me smile. Anger burned hotly beneath that glower of hers, her thumping heartbeat a sweet, tantalizing thrum in the air. My canines ached at the thought of tasting her.

That was unusual. Startling, even. Especially when I let my mind wander to its deeper meaning. But that couldn’t be so.

Shaking it off, I commanded, “Walk beside me. There may be brigands in the forest ahead.”

I hated traveling by foot. There were all manner of opportunists in these dense woods far from civilization, waiting to rob or do worse to travelers.

“The only brigand I see is walking in front of me.” Her voice was sweet as pure honey, but her words were laced with poison.

Yet again, I fought a smile. She was feisty, the little moon fae.

“I’m no cutthroat, Murgha, but I will cut a throat when necessary.”

She went quiet after that. I should try to put her at ease rather than frighten her, but fear was a good motivator. And until we were far from her village, I needed to keep her moving by whatever means necessary.

The last light of dusk filtered through the trees at an angle. I glanced up at the flash of blue of Gwenda zipping overhead.

“How do you know my name?” came the quiet question behind me.

I stopped and turned to face her. She froze on the path, not moving any closer but not stepping back either when I erased the short space between us.

“That’s what you want to know?” Of all the things she could ask me, I was somehow surprised that was the first.

“I don’t know you,” she declared with her chin tilted up, though she couldn’t keep her voice from trembling, “but you know my name.”

That was a story I couldn’t tell her here. “We’re almost to the clearing. We need to keep moving.”

Suddenly, Gwenda chirped a high trill from the branches above, giving me a second’s notice before they fell on me. I shoved Murgha to the side and whipped around, blade swiping through the air.

My short-sword sliced into the moon fae’s shoulder. He cried out and dropped the serrated knife he’d been about to bury into my back, his dark blue wings flapping and pulling him out of reach.

Instantly, I ducked, sensing another one diving at me on the right. He missed my neck but slashed across my left wing, the pain sharp. Growling, I stabbed straight into his throat, my sharp black steel burying deep. His eyes went round in shock that his life was over so quickly.

“You should’ve let it go,” I advised him before I yanked my short-sword free and gave him a shove.

He fell backward, crimson blood instantly soaking the grassy path. When I turned, the other guard was still groaning on the ground, holding his bleeding arm.

Striding to him, I stepped on his wing to get his attention and pointed the tip of my blade at his throat.

He froze, staring up at me, hatred in his gaze. “You cheated, you fucking bastard.”

He was right. “It doesn’t matter,” I said casually. “The female is mine regardless.”

A sharp twinge twisted in my chest at the truth of the words. I hadn’t meant them in the way her father, and even that ambassador, thought of her as their property. I’d meant she was mine to protect. By a solemn vow I would not break. Not for anyone. Still, the possessiveness of the words rang true, burrowing deeper, etching into my very bones.

“Don’t try to follow us. I won’t be so forgiving the next time,” I promised him, then nicked his chin for good measure. He flinched and whimpered but still didn’t move as the trickle of red trailed down his throat.

Certain that I’d made my point, I looked back toward the village. No one else was coming to fetch the half-breed moon fae who’d been gambled away by her father like a piece of copper. It was sickening. And these two guards had only come to try to win back their honor since they realized I’d tricked them.

Re-sheathing my blade, I turned to find that Murgha wasn’t waiting close by. She wasn’t anywhere. Huffing, I nearly laughed.

Of course, she’d run. I strode down the path toward her scent—a mixture of lemon, lavender, and spice. It lingered in the air, a teasing aroma that yet again made my canines ache.

My desire was unexpected, and yet the burning heat of want curled hotly inside me all the same. A growl rumbled in my chest before I beat my wings and flew after her beneath the high branches, seeking my prey.

Chapter

Four

MURGHA

Ipumped my legs as fast as they would go, my lungs burning from the exhausting run. My skirt didn’t even hinder me as I flew through the darkening woods. I’d left the path and was sure I could find some dense brush deep enough in the forest to hide until night came. Then I could find my way back home.

I remembered there was a particularly thick bramble of berries this way. If I could only make it there, I’d slip inside and remain quiet as a hare until he was gone.

Then I heard it. I’d never actually heard the exact sound before, the beating of very large wings, but I knew what it was all the same.

I whimpered as the sound drew closer. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder, knowing what I’d find.

Suddenly, strong arms were around my waist, lifting me off the ground.

“No!” I screamed, kicking out wildly with my legs and clawing at his forearm, which had me scraping uselessly at his steel vambrace.

He landed with a thud beneath a thick-trunked tree, squeezing me so tight my breath whooshed out of my chest.

“Easy, Murgha,” he whispered close to my ear, the silky caress of his voice raising gooseflesh on my skin. “Calm down.”

My heart thought that was a ridiculous idea. It only beat faster, now that I was trapped in the arms of the shadow fae priest. I feared what he planned to do with me. If it was anything like the ambassador had surely been planning for me, I wasn’t going to allow it without a fight.

I stopped struggling, realizing it was pointless. My breath heaved in and out of my chest, my pulse still racing. I’d have to plan my escape another way.

“There now,” he said in that soothing tone that only made me angrier.

“How do you know my name?” I asked again, slowly inching my skirt up my leg with the tips of my fingers.

“We’re not out of danger yet, and I need to get you safely out of these woods before we have that conversation.”

“Safely?” I scoffed. “You have your arms so tight around me I can’t breathe.”

He eased his hold but still kept me pressed close. It allowed me to pull my skirt up higher so that I could finally reach the scabbard strapped to my thigh.

I tried to ignore the way his hard, warm body felt pressed against my back, the way he smelled so pleasant like clean, fresh air and cedarwood.

“You’re also holding me against my will,” I snapped. “I’d say you’re the danger.”

He chuckled lightly, the rumble vibrating to my back then he dipped his head close to my ear again. “Perhaps you’re right,” he crooned in that velvet voice. “Maybe you should be a good girl and not run off.”

Then he released me from his hold. I spun around at the same time, whipping the dagger from its scabbard. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. Actually, his gaze wasn’t even on the blade I held but on my leg.

When I glanced down, I realized that the hem of my skirt and chemise had caught on the scabbard, revealing far too much of my pale thigh. I jerked the skirts free and dropped them, then pointed the dagger at him more threateningly, narrowing my gaze. “Don’t come near me.”

His red eyes gleamed with pleasure as if I’d said something sweet and alluring. Then he stepped closer, doing exactly what I warned him not to do.

“I’m serious, you demon,” I spat, my dagger digging into his jaw. He seemed not to care at all. “Don’t come a step closer.”

He didn’t, but he did, however, reach out his hand and lift a strand of my long hair.

“So soft and pretty,” he murmured, “like silver silk.”

I grabbed his wrist with my free hand and pressed the blade to the skin of his throat. His arrogant smile spread wide, the strands of my hair sliding through his fingers. I shivered at the sensation, not understanding why it both disturbed and thrilled me.

“Don’t test me,” I warned, injecting as much venom as I could into my voice. “I’ll stab you right through the heart.”

His scarlet gaze devoured me with fiery heat, but the timbre of his voice remained steady and cool. “My sweet, of that I am positively sure.”

Puzzled, I frowned, then suddenly he snatched the blade from my hand, scooped me up, sprinted three steps, and beat his great black wings, lifting us into the air. I squealed as he aimed for a narrow opening between branches. He curled an arm over my head as he pummeled right through, breaking through with a snap of branches. We were airborne.

For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut, not even caring that I clung to him like a frightened kitten. I’d clawed one hand into the back of his leather doublet, the other into his chest. He didn’t seem to mind at all, soaring through the sky without a care.

Soaring. I forced my eyes open and turned my head to look. I gasped. We weren’t far above the tree line, heading northwest. The sun had dipped behind the Solgavia Mountains in the distance, the sky a swath of indigo with the first twinkling of stars.

Up here, everything seemed so ethereal and illusory. The sky, the mountains, the trees and the ground below. They were all real, and yet, when gliding between the earth and stars, the world felt more like a dream, one that appealed to me far more than reality.

For the first time in my life, I felt a pang of grief that I hadn’t been born with wings. From the day my mother left, the same day I had realized my white hair and purple eyes signified not only that I was different but my birth was repellant, I’d wished I had dark hair and warm, brown eyes like my sister, Tessa. Like my mother. I’d only ever wanted to belong to them.

But now, flying high above the world, I wanted to be more like my father. Instead, I was cursed to be neither wood fae nor moon fae, floating somewhere in between.

“What are you thinking?” His deep voice jarred me.

I stared out at the glowing horizon, the sun kissing the sky one last time before he slept.

“I was thinking how apt that I should love this so much. Flying.”

When I didn’t expound, he asked, “Why is it so fitting?”

“Because here, you’re between two realms, the heavens and the earth. That’s always been me. Caught between two worlds, never belonging to either.”

He said nothing, beating his wings once, gliding lower as we passed over the thick woodland.

“I wish I could stay here,” I murmured to myself.

He shifted me in his hold. It seemed he wanted to look at me, meet my gaze.

“I’ll bring you any time you like, Murgha.”

My brow pinched at my name as I was reminded this shadow fae priest somehow knew me. That disconcerting sensation returned. “How do you know who I am?”

Rather than avoid me yet again, he answered in a somber tone, “I’ll tell you everything after we get settled for the night.”

Then he aimed for a grove of giant black oak trees, taking us back to earth.

Chapter

Five

VALLON

Ilowered us vertically through the top branches of the old oak I’d made my home these past few months. I’d trimmed only a few of the thicker ones so that I could come and go easily enough and see the stars when I fell asleep.

From down below, no one would ever suspect there was a fae aerie stretching across one side of the tree. We were too far up and too many leaf-covered branches hid my makeshift camp.

I set Murgha on her feet and her small bag next to her. I’d scooped it up off the forest floor along with her when I was finally done arguing. Truthfully, I needed to cool off, and going airborne was the best way to find inner balance.

Murgha unsettled me, and not for the reasons I’d taken her away from that so-called father.

She instantly backed away from me, gripping a branch for support. The thick, leafy branches cradled my pallet, almost like a nest. The pallet was bare except for the layers of furs that was my bed near the trunk and the satchel I had hanging on the end of a broken branch that acted like a hook.

She stared, wide-eyed, her pulse beginning to beat faster again. Strange, the flight in the sky had calmed her when I knew it had been her first time in the air. It was only when the reality that she was in the hands of a stranger had settled in that her fear had returned.

I lifted one of the deerskin hides and spread it out on the other side of the pallet near her. “Have a seat.”

She remained very still, staring at me warily.

“I won’t hurt you, Murgha.”

She held my gaze for a moment longer, then seemed to believe me. For the moment, at least.

After opening my satchel, I pulled out a portable fire-pit. With a twist at the bottom, the bowl opened up like flower petals, sealing into place. I set it on the flat stones beneath the opening in the branches. The stones kept the pallet from catching fire. Then I found the blue-coal in my satchel that I’d managed to barter from some wraith fae at the Borderlands.

“You have blue coal?” she asked, knowing what it was as I lit them with a match and dropped three coals into the metal pit.

“You’ve seen it before?” I asked.

She shook her head and scooted closer to peer into the bowl, reaching out her palms to feel the heat. A small smile lifted her mouth and brightened her face.

I rubbed at my sternum.

“My sister, Tessa, and I heard about it from one of our clansmen after he’d gone traveling to the Borderlands.” She peered even closer. “It really doesn’t give off any smoke?”

“No.”

“But how?” she asked, seeming both fascinated and disbelieving.

I couldn’t help but smile at her keen curiosity. “Something about the properties of Vixet Krone make it the perfect element to provide warmth while never producing smoke. Just like the black steel that comes from there as well. It is the strongest metal on earth.” I unbuckled my belt and set my blade aside.

“Vix’s magick then.”

“Mm,” I agreed wordlessly.

“Why was Vixet Krone so special?” she asked.

Watching the blue light from the coal-fire gild her soft features, I shifted to wrap my arms at my knees, flaring my wings for balance. Her gaze skimmed over my wings then returned to me.

“Vixet Krone was once a volcano that covered a vast territory of Northgall. Legends say the god Vix lived beneath it with his mate, Mizrah.”

“I’ve heard of her. That’s what they call the wraith king’s concubine, is it not?”

“Past wraith kings, yes.” I remembered that last meeting with the new wraith king and that look in his gaze he set upon his Mizrah Una. “However, King Gollaya has become a different kind of wraith king.”

“Really?” Her brow raised in surprise. “The ambassador had only brought us news that the war was over and how our people were faring back in Lumeria.”

It figured he wouldn’t bother to tell them the more important news, that King Goll was changing the world of both the light and the dark fae with his new regime.

“Tell me more about the volcano,” she urged.

“When Mizrah died, it was said he was filled with such grief and torment that when he wailed and cried for her, it erupted the volcano where he’d once lived.”

She watched as I unlaced the vambraces at my arms and the armor plates at my shoulders, setting the pieces aside. I didn’t wear full armor, only the basics that were necessary when traveling outside of Gadlizel. We were enemies to everyone except other shadow fae, so it was always important to be on guard.

“And so the wraith fae built their home there.”

“They did,” I agreed.

“Why didn’t the shadow fae and the beast fae? Why was it only the wraiths that claimed that place as their home?”

I huffed a laugh. “I don’t know how that happened since it was thousands of years ago and never recorded by scribes. But beast fae are nomadic. They prefer to keep their clan moving throughout the year.”

She seemed to think on that for a moment and then asked, “And what about you? The shadow fae?”

A strange thread of pleasure wound through me when she asked about my kind, even something as small as this.

“Shadow fae prefer to live up high. It’s only natural that our home is in the mountains.”

Her gaze returned to my wings, and then her brow pursed. “You’re bleeding,” she said on a gulp and pointed over my left shoulder.

When I looked, I could just see a trickle of blue from the cut the guard’s sword had made. Rising, I went to my satchel again and removed a vial of antiseptic that our healers in Gadlizel made. I poured some on a clean cloth and stretched out my left wing.

I could barely reach the cut, but I could see that the guard’s blade hadn’t gone to the bone. Still, it was wide enough to cause infection.

“Damn,” I muttered, reaching back to try and wipe the blue blood still streaming lightly from the wound.

“Let me.”

I actually startled, finding Murgha standing right next to me. Without a word, I handed her the cloth.

“You’ll need to sit down. I can’t reach.”

She was quite small, even for a light fae. I sat on the pallet and spread my wing. She stood eye level with the top of my wing. Then she dabbed at the cut, the sting of the medicine sharp, but I didn’t move a muscle.

“This needs to be stitched,” she said softly.

I looked up at her. “I don’t suppose you know how to stitch wounds.”

She swallowed nervously. “I do, actually. I sew all my own clothes, and Papa has needed cuts treated in the past. My sister was always too squeamish to do it.”

“Would you stitch the wound for me?” I asked gently, wondering what she would do.

I could get Gwenda to do it. She’d been hiding in the upper branches watching us since we arrived. But I sincerely doubted she’d help me after I’d essentially abducted Murgha from her home. She was very fond of the fae female.

Murgha dabbed a few more times then asked, “Do you have a suture kit with you?”

My own pulse galloped a little faster. “It’s in the front pocket of my bag.”

She found it quickly and then returned to me. When she unwound the thread, she paused and observed it closely. “What kind of thread is this? It’s much thicker than I’m used to.”

“It’s made in Gadlizel, specifically for wounds. The material we use comes from a plant called dellabore.”

She threaded the needle and stepped close to my wing, her fingers light and gentle as she pinched the skin close to make the first stitch. “I’ve never heard of dellabore.”

“It only grows in the mountains.”

“Not in fields, though,” she stated, as if she knew for a fact. “Where does it grow exactly?”

She’d seemed to forget that I was the enemy, her curiosity about the plant getting the better of her. One thing Gwenda had reported the most about Murgha was her deep love of plants. She spent countless hours foraging in the woods and cultivating her own in a garden. I could probably get her full cooperation from now on by simply listing the properties of all of the exotic plants in Solgavia.

“Dellabore is a delicate shrub that grows in the lower elevation of the Solgavia Mountains. It cannot grow in the higher elevation where the temperatures are too cold. This time of year, it will be sprouting everywhere, especially near the streams that trickle through the foothills.”

She continued stitching, but I could feel her burning to ask another question. I waited.

“What does it look like?”

Smiling to myself as she made another stitch, I replied. “The leaves are as big as your hand. The flowers have six spiky petals.”

She paused to open her hand and looked at her palm.

“But it’s the flower that’s the most fascinating,” I continued. “It blooms with thousands of tiny black thistles with a pink stamen at its center.”

She tied off the stitch and leaned forward to bite the end, her warm breath coasting over my wing. I clamped my jaw tight and closed my eyes, forcing myself not to make a sound at the pleasure of it.

Most fae didn’t realize that our wings were highly sensitive. Though the skin was a tough hide, there was a sensitive web of nerves running just beneath.

“You use the thistles to create the thread?” she asked, walking to my bag and tucking the thread and needle back in the front pocket.

“Yes. It’s a lengthy process of grinding the thistles with a binding mixture then flattening it thin before pulling it apart in tufts and spinning it into thread.”

She returned to her place on the other side of the coal-fire and knelt on her knees, tucking her skirt around her. I frowned. She needed better clothes. Trousers, for one. Her legs would be exposed when we flew into colder climes.

“You know a lot about making thread. Is that one of the jobs of a shadow fae priest?” She blinked innocently but her eyes were mocking. She was teasing me? Another wave of warmth filled my chest.

“My mother was a spinner,” I told her, not knowing why I wanted to share this with her, but I did. “That is what we call those who work on the looms creating dellabore thread and those who create the fabric from it.”

Her eyes widened, her gaze flicking to my horns. “But you’re a noble.”

She understood that demon fae with four horns were noble-born.

“Was your mother common-born?” she asked.

I smiled. “In Gadlizel, there is no shame in work. Even the high-born work.”

She seemed to want to say more but didn’t.

“When I was small,” I continued, “I’d sit at my mother’s feet and play in the black tufts of dellabore, tossing them in the air.”

“She wouldn’t get angry?” she asked.

“No.” I shook my head, smiling. “I was her only child, and she spoiled me.”

Murgha smiled, and pleasure spread warmly through me.

“She made all my clothes, even this shirt.” I tugged at the black sleeve.

She leaned forward but didn’t ask to see it up close. Of course, she was still wary of me. She was an intelligent female and still had no idea why I’d taken her from that hovel of a home.

“Your mother? She is still living?” she asked tentatively.

“Very much. Strong as a Meer-wolf, she is.” My smile softened. “But she doesn’t spin or sew as much as she used to. Quite frankly, my father”—a twist of grief made me falter—“when he was alive, he fussed all the time that she should be relaxing and enjoying a life of leisure. But she would always tell him that sewing was what gave her the most enjoyment.”

Murgha’s violet eyes sparkled brightly by the coal-fire. “Your mother and father, they sound like very kind fae.” She said this with a frown creasing her pretty brow.

She didn’t understand why I’d taken her and what our connection was, but she was beginning to see I wasn’t her enemy. I could never be.

As if she read my thoughts, she asked hesitantly, “Why did you take me from my home? How do you know who I am?”

I gave her a stiff nod then stood and whistled up to the boughs above us. “First, you need food.”

Gwendazelle zipped down and settled on the leather strap of my satchel, blinking wide eyes at Murgha.

“It’s you!” exclaimed Murgha, jumping to her feet.

Gwenda hid shyly behind a leafy twig, peaking her head out to watch Murgha.

“She’s been watching me for months,” said Murgha, her smile suddenly faltering. “She’s your wood sprite? You sent her?”

“I don’t own her.” When I held out my palm, Gwenda instantly flew to me and curled her talons lightly around the edge of my hand. “She’s my friend. And yes, I sent her to watch out for you. That’s how I knew you were in trouble this afternoon.”

Murgha blinked in surprise, not knowing what to say.

“Gwendazelle, this is Murgha.” Gwenda opened a wing in greeting but Murgha simply stared in shock. “She will keep you company while I’m gone. I won’t be long.”

Gwenda flew off my palm and landed on a branch closer to Murgha. Knowing she couldn’t run away from the top of this tree and that Gwenda would find and warn me if danger approached, I buckled my belt back on, sword at my hip, then flew up through the opening, the stars just beginning to shine.

Chapter

Six

MURGHA

Isat back down cross-legged, tucking my skirt over my knees, and then stared at the wood sprite. I finally knew why she’d been following me for so many months. Well, sort of knew.

“Hi.” I waved.

She lifted her wing again.

“Can you speak?” I asked.

“I speak,” she said in a high-pitched voice.

I smiled. “You’re very pretty.”

She made a chirping trill sound, flew down to the wooden plank right in front of me, and said excitedly, “You’re very pretty, too. And kind. I like you very much.”

I laughed. “How do you know I’m kind?”

“You speak to the trees and flowers. They listen,” she told me with deep sincerity in her round, black eyes. “I see you bring meals to the old fae lady who lives alone by the willow tree. I see you bring berries and nuts to the lame male who loves them but cannot walk far and find them himself.”

I hadn’t realized she’d watched me that much. I’d only seen her on occasion, mostly when I went into the woods.

My thoughts turned back to the shadow fae. “Why has he been making you follow me?” I pointed to the opening in the branches above us.

She shook her head. “He will tell you.”

“What’s his name?”

“Vallon.”

His name soaked into my skin, and some tremble of awareness awoke inside me at hearing his name. A prickle of magick hummed quietly, as if waiting.

Waiting for what?

“He is a very important priest to the king.” Then she added, “And the prince.”

That only gave me more questions. “I just don’t understand why a shadow fae I’ve never met, or even heard, of would have any interest in me.”

“He will tell you,” she repeated, blinking those large eyes sweetly.

So she wasn’t going to give me any information about how or why I’d come to be here. Perhaps she’d tell me something else.

“How did you and Vallon become friends?”

Her smile widened to reveal a row of white serrated teeth. “That’s a lovely story.” She flew closer and perched on my knee, her talons pricking gently through my skirt. “Actually”—her pale blue brow scrunched into a frown—“it’s a scary and sad story. Can I tell you a scary story?”

I nodded, instantly mesmerized before she said a word.

“My family and I lived in the woods at the foot of the Solgavia Mountains until we were hunted by evil creatures.”

“What kind of creatures?”

“It was a flock of snow hawks.”

“A flock?” I asked, puzzled. “But snow hawks are solitary birds.”

And how could they be evil?

“Yes, they usually are.” She bent her long legs and wrapped her blue wings around herself until only her tiny head peeked out. “But there was something wrong with them. My father and mother used their magick to try and stun them as they attacked.” She shook her head. “But nothing could stop them. I was a mere nestling, but I saw them rip my father to pieces, and one of them carried my mother away in its sharp talons.”

“I am so sorry.” My heart ached for her, for I could see the pain etched in her face.

“I heard the cries of my siblings as I tried to fly away. We all flew from our nest in our home-tree, trying to hide in the woods. But one of the hawks caught me in his big claws.” She sniffed, blinking her eyes sadly, but then her face brightened. “Suddenly, a giant shadow fae was there. He snatched the hawk by the throat and twisted its neck. It dropped me right into the fae’s palm.” She stood again and opened her wings. “The shadow fae was Vallon.”

I had surmised that, but I didn’t let on. “How fortunate he was there to save you.”

“Yes, yes. He is my best friend.” She made a sad chirping sound. “We couldn’t find my siblings. They’d been taken away by the hawks. Vallon said there was a sickness inside of them since they didn’t behave like regular hawks, and I agreed with him. Hawks don’t prey on magickal creatures like wood sprites. But they weren’t just sick. They were evil. I felt it, and I told him so.”

I wondered at that. How could natural creatures be infected or tainted by some kind of evil? I’d never heard of such a thing.

“So you live with Vallon in Gadlizel?” I asked.

“Yes, yes. He is my family now.”

Wood sprites typically lived in small families with other sprites. How curious, and even sweet, that Gwenda had attached herself to Vallon. But I suppose that would be natural if he saved her from certain death.

“You will like living in his villa. It is very beautiful.”

I sat straighter suddenly, which had her puff out her feathers.

“Live with him?” My voice rose with shock. “Why on earth would I live with him?”

She blinked her dark eyes owlishly. “Because you are his to protect.”

I laughed. “I don’t even know him. By the gods, what in the world is going on?”

Then a flapping of giant wings raised my attention above me, his wingspan blocking out the stars as he lowered through the opening.

My breath caught as I took stock of him yet again. He was an extremely large male, his wings making him appear even more imposing. But it was the stark beauty of his face and his glittering red eyes that held me so captive and had my heart skittering faster as he landed on the far side of the coal-fire.

He carried an already skinned rabbit on a skewer and a bundle in his arms. His gaze swept over me as if he were looking for something, like he was ensuring himself I was still in one piece. Gwendazelle flitted to perch on the branch closest to the fire and cocooned herself into her feathers.

He settled the skewer crossways over the coal-fire. It fit perfectly into grooves on either side of the portable pit, obviously made for it.

“I’ve never seen such an efficient thing as that. Do the shadow fae make them?”

“No. They’re a beast fae invention. Though the beast fae prefer natural fire over the blue coal.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

He stepped around the fire and handed me the bundle of cloth. “The beast fae prefer the natural over magickal elements.”

“What is this?” I stared down in my lap, seeing lacings. They were clothes.

“Those will suit you better and keep you warmer on our travels. I hope they fit. Change into them. I’ll be back shortly.”

Then with another whoosh, he was gone. Gwenda’s eyes blinked sleepily, so I didn’t bother her.

I unfolded the clothes in my lap. There was a pair of dark blue trousers made of a finer cloth than I’d had access to in our village. It was a thicker fabric, as was the beige blouse that laced in the front. There was also a black leather belt and a heavy coat.

Standing, I held out the coat that would hit my calves when I wore it. It was made of a deerskin pelt that had been smoothed into the softest leather, the color a pale brown, like cinnamon bark tea with the heavy cream I cherished whenever we could afford it.

We? There was no more “we,” Papa and I. Tessa had been gone for almost a year, and it had felt less and less like home every season without her.

I’d always pretended that one day Papa would see me as his daughter and treat me as a cherished child, the way he had treated Tessa, his true-born daughter. But that had never happened. If I needed further proof of my worth to him, I only needed to remember that he had gambled me away like a piece of property.

I sniffed at the sting of it, blinking away the tears. I suppose it was only natural that a new life would garner me new clothes. Though I wasn’t sure who this Vallon was, I was certain he had no intention of hurting me. Not only had he given me no reason to believe he would, but I sensed it with that inner whisper that sometimes spoke to me.

It didn’t speak literally, but there had been moments when I simply knew something to be true. My magick, latent though it had been, would ripple along my skin and warm my body when it was trying to tell me something.

Gwenda said that I was under his protection. It was more than Papa had ever given me. So maybe this wasn’t a terrible turn of events, but a new start. The thought of going back to the inn to Papa now made me nauseous.

Gwenda was now asleep, and I was sure Vallon had left me in privacy to change, so I stripped down to my shift, even removing the leather strap for my dagger, which was still missing. I was suddenly eager to put on these new clothes, to remove my old ones—my old life. When I picked up the shirt, an undergarment fell out.

It was made of the gossamer material of a chemise, though finer than my own. Removing my well-worn shift, I pulled the new one over my head. It had lacings at the bodice that tightened the chemise and held my breasts firmly in place. Not that mine were very big, but it felt good to have an undergarment that supported me there.

My old one was little more than a thin barrier so that I wouldn’t chafe against the harsher wool dresses I owned.

My new chemise fell just past my hips. There were no other undergarments to wear beneath the trousers. When I pulled them on, they were of a thick material, but soft. I liked the feel of my new clothes as I added each layer.

When I saw my scabbard laying on the ground, I removed it from the leather strap and fitted it onto my new belt at my waist. When Vallon returned, I’d demand my dagger back.

By the time I pulled on the long coat, I was smiling and wishing I had a looking glass to see myself. The new clothes didn’t only fit my body, they fit me. They made me feel stronger somehow, more confident.

The tell-tale flapping of giant wings warned me of his arrival. This time, I prepared for his overpowering presence.

When he landed, his gaze skated over me again, another inspection, but this time it was a slow perusal. When I glanced down at myself, I realized how well the clothes fit my petite figure and wondered where he’d gotten them.

“Where and how did you find clothes like this so fast? They fit perfectly.”

“I see that,” he drawled, standing very still as he continued to drink me in.

Heat flared in my cheeks. That was an expression I’d seen before on men. Many looked at me in such a way, some even offering gifts to seduce me. One traveler had outright offered coin for a night in my bed. But I’d avoided all of them, even the admirers I liked.

I was aware that as a half-breed, I wasn’t an enticing catch as a wife. The males I’d admired in our clan never saw me that way.

The only time I’d ever let myself believe it was when Dellyn, the smithy’s son, had started courting me. It was right after Tessa’s disappearance, and so I’d gravitated toward his company and attention easily. I was lonely.

Dellyn had come to the inn often for that month, staying much longer after a meal and a pint of mead. We’d talked about our days, about the weather, about the war and hoping it would end.

One night, he’d left me a ring. It was fashioned from iron, not a precious metal, but it was intricately engraved with a vine of leaves. I remember that tender feeling that someone cared about me blooming in my chest.

I’d risen early the next morning before we opened the inn and tavern and gone to the blacksmith shop to thank him. I’d met with his father, who asked why I wanted to see his son. I remember the disapproving scowl he’d given me as I stood in his open doorway.

When I glanced down at the ring on my finger, the smithy seemed to realize what had happened. Perhaps he’d even seen his son forge it at their kiln because then he’d asked, “Did Dellyn give that to you?”

I was frozen, not knowing what to say, because his voice was harsh, angry, and obviously disapproving. Then Dellyn entered the room, and his father commanded darkly, “Whatever game you’re playing, son, you best end it. Now.”

That was when Dellyn took me outside, not angry with me but frustrated that I’d come to see him, to thank him. Because I was a green girl when it came to relationships with males, I’d asked him if he was courting me to be his wife.

Dellyn had flushed red and shook his head. “Not to be my wife. You know I could never take you as a wife. But I would be a good and kind lover to you, Murgha.”

The way he’d offered to be my lover, like it was a gift, and then told me I could never be his wife, like the idea was preposterous, still tore me up inside to this day. That was when I realized I was a loathsome creature as a half-breed, an unwanted child born of a deceiving wife who cuckolded her husband. Perhaps they thought my mother’s blood had tainted me to be the same sort of female. An unfaithful one. A female only good enough to warm their beds but never to let into their hearts.

I’d handed him his ring and walked back to the inn with my head lifted and tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d never needed Tessa more than that moment.

But that day had taught me a fine lesson. That no matter what other males thought of me and the blood coursing through my half-breed veins, I was an honorable fae, and I would be a loyal wife if I ever found a male worthy of my love. So I guarded the one thing I could offer a true husband more preciously. I’d vowed not to give my virtue to any man but my husband.

Tessa had thought me silly since she’d had a few lovers and told me it was fun and pleasurable. But Tessa was a pure-blood wood fae. And men didn’t look at her the way they did me. She couldn’t understand why I was so wary of men.

So the shadow fae standing before me, giving my appearance a thorough and approving perusal, could look all his fill. Even if his heated gaze made warmth bloom beneath my skin with desire, I would not give him what he wanted.

“You know lots of small fae females you can snatch nice clothing from?” I asked.

That seemed to snap him out of his stupor. He settled back on his side of the coal-fire and turned the rabbit on its spit. The heat from the blue coal seemed to be cooking it quicker than a natural flame.

“I know a wraith fae female who lives in the Borderlands close by. She sold me the clothes.”

“And you caught a hare as well in that short time? You’re quite an efficient male.”

His brow puckered uncomfortably, and a swath of pink climbed his neck. Was he actually blushing?

“She had been hunting so I bought the rabbit from her as well.” He found my gaze across the coal-fire when I sat back down, cross-legged. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

I was, but I had more important things to tend to than my stomach.

“Your name is Vallon.” I nodded to the sleeping wood sprite. “Gwenda told me. What’s your full name?”

His pause was brief then, “I am Lord Vallon of House Hennawyn, high priest of Gadlizel.”

There was pride in his voice as he stated his name. As there should be. I knew by the four horns curling out of his head that he was a noble-born dark fae. And by the gold rings decorating them, I was aware he had high status.

Even so, hearing him say it made me understand why this shadow fae carried himself with such confidence and importance. He should be confident. Because he was important.

“And why has a high priest noble kidnapped a common-born wood fae?”

His gaze was sharp and assessing. This was the warrior I’d seen walk through Papa’s tavern door.

Fierce yet cool, he held my gaze as he told me with unwavering certainty, “It was my father’s dying wish. As well as yours.”

Chapter

Seven

VALLON

Her violet eyes rounded in surprise, but she didn’t say a word. What I had to tell her would come as a shock, and it would hurt her deeply. It was a sad story, and it was hers. I had to tell her for her to trust me at all.

“My father,” I began, “loved to hunt. Have you heard of the black-horned mountain deer?”

She remained quiet but shook her head.

“It’s a giant of a beast. Some grow as big as Pallasian stallions.” And those horses could grow twice as tall as a dark fae. “They live high in the snow-capped mountains. And though we can easily fly up to hunt them there, it’s rather difficult to carry them down the mountain. So we hunt them in the spring when they come lower for fresh grass.”

I pulled the rabbit off the spit and tore a roasted leg off, handing it to Murgha. She took it, but her gaze remained fixed on me.

“Eat, Murgha.”

“Tell me the story,” she demanded.

“Eat,” I repeated.

When she obeyed and nibbled on what I’d given her, the tightness in my chest eased. I pulled a piece off and ate while I continued.

“My father was hunting in the foothills when he heard men shouting and crying out, as well as the sound of a growling animal. He found four moon fae males fighting off a barga on a cliff. Well, three were fighting, and the fourth was injured.”

Murgha gulped hard.

“You’ve heard of this bear then.”

She nodded, brow pinched with concern. “When we were children, Papa would tell us to be good or the barga would get us.”

“Not very kind of him.”

“No.”

“They’re a fierce, territorial creature,” I continued, “and when they’re hungry, they will attack anything. They’re four times my size, claws as long as your feet.”

She glanced at her booted foot and tucked it tighter beneath her leg.

I ate the last bite of rabbit in my hand and pulled a rag and canteen from my bag. After wiping my fingers, I handed the canteen to her. She sipped it using one hand then handed it back. I settled back across from her.

“What happened next?” she asked.

“My father helped them fight the beast. He was an expert warrior and hunter. The barga finally realized it was outmatched and eventually ran off. One of the moon fae was an ambassador from Issos heading to the eastern realms with three guards. One of the guards who defended the ambassador against the barga had been mortally wounded.”

My gut clenched, for this was the part I didn’t want to tell her but knew I must.

“My father went to the moon fae, whose wing had been broken and his belly clawed open in the battle with the barga. There was no healer who could save him, my father knew. The injured male had the pale white hair and the purple eyes of a noble-born. He was an Issosian guard.”

Murgha had abandoned her meal, the bit of rabbit hanging loosely in her hand in her lap. I should’ve had her finish her meal before I told her. Too late now.

“The Issosian guard reached out his hand to my father and pulled him close. He was dying. He told my father that he had failed his mate. She was a wood fae and married to another male. He’d found her too late, after she’d married and had a child with her husband, but she was now pregnant with his own child. While he knew he couldn’t tear her from her family, he had promised he’d care for her always. He begged my father to watch over his child when he or she was born, knowing they’d be mistreated as a half-breed.”

By now, Murgha’s tears were streaming freely down her heart-shaped face, my insides twisting at the sight. But I had to tell her all of it.

“My father questioned why he didn’t ask this of one of his own men. Why did he ask this of a shadow fae who lived far from the realm of the wood fae? But the Issosian guard knew that the vow of a shadow fae at someone’s death was binding.”

She didn’t ask but a crease formed between her brow, so I explained.

“The shadow fae have a deep reverence for the dead and the spirits when they go on into the afterworld. For us, a promise made to the dying is an eternal vow. Unbreakable.”

I took a drink from the canteen then set it aside. “So my father promised to watch over the child when it was born, to be sure the babe was cared for. And he did for many years. He’d told me that she was a sweet little female, beloved by her mother and sister. And even when the man of her house threw the mother out, the girl was watched over by the sister and still provided for by the man, who was not truly her father.”

She sobbed and dropped the leg of rabbit. I leaned across the space and handed her a handkerchief. She took it, sniffling softly, and wiped her face.

“My father told me all of this on his own deathbed just under a year ago, and he passed his vow onto me. Made me swear I would protect the female wherever she was in the world. For he’d lost track of her when her clan had left Myrkovir Forest to avoid the war. Then he became too ill to find her.” That familiar well of knowing pulsed through my veins, that she—above all other duties and destinies—was the most important of them all. “To find you.”

She sucked in a deep breath, wiping her face again, my heart aching to console her in some way. But I didn’t move.

“And so,” she began in a trembling voice, “the burden became yours to watch over me.”

The pain in her voice and expression was as cutting as a sharp blade sliding deep. “Murgha”—I pulled her glassy gaze to mine—“it is not a burden for me.”

If she knew what I’d realized in the past few hours, she’d likely want to run from me. But there was no return from the truth that had pounded itself into my flesh and bones the second I saw her standing in that tavern, awaiting her fate to be gambled away.

The thought of what her so-called father had done burned new fury through me, but I’d made it there in time. Thank the gods.

I remained silent, letting her absorb what I was telling her. I was expecting at least another hour of tears, but she suddenly made a growling sound of frustration and threw down the handkerchief. “What is it exactly that you are planning to do with me? Because Gwenda said I was going to live in your villa in the mountains. And I’m not.”

“You’d rather go back to the innkeeper’s care and be sold at his next game of Kings and Bones?”

“Well, I’m not going to go from being his servant to being yours.”

“I don’t expect you to be my servant.” I expected her to be something far more precious.

She stood and paced but couldn’t go far in our limited space. Finally, she stopped and crossed her arms on a thick branch, and stared through the leaves at the night sky.

When she spoke, her voice was less accusatory, though frustration radiated from her. “If I was an outcast among the light fae, I’ll be a complete pariah among the shadow fae.”

The fact the she was even considering living among my people eased the tension tightening my chest. “No one will ever say a word against you, I can promise you that. Also, I live outside the city in a quiet home. My mother lives with me, but she knows about you and is anxious to meet you.”

This had her finally turning to look at me, brows lifted in question. “Your mother knows?”

“Of course. She and my father were true mates. They told each other everything.”

As true mates should.

She turned back toward the night. “My sister told me that our mother would often leave for a few days at a time when I was young. She’d go to sell herbs and medicine to the next village. But she was often gone much longer than she should be. That was when Papa had kicked her out, thinking she was off sleeping with other men or some nonsense. She wasn’t doing that,” she snapped vehemently, as if I might argue against her. “At least, I don’t think she was unfaithful to Papa after I was born.” She shrugged. “I have a knowing about things sometimes.”

“No, Murgha. She wasn’t.”

The finality in my tone must’ve caught her attention. She turned to face me.

“Do you know what happened to my mother?”

“She went in search of your father. Myrkovir Forest isn’t far from Issos. Two days’ walk, or one day if she caught a ride by carriage.”

“How could you possibly know this?”

“After my father died, I traveled to Issos and discovered your mother had tried to find her mate many times after you were born. He’d disappeared, and she feared the worst.”

“For good reason.”

I dipped my chin in agreement. “When the innkeeper made her leave, she went to Issos and discovered the truth. She lived there for many years, working for an apothecary.”

“She is dead?”

“Yes,” I told her honestly. “The apothecary fell ill with the Paviana Plague. Apparently, she nursed him, but contracted it as well. They both died within a year, the locals told me.”

She gulped hard, dipping her chin. “I knew she had died. Somehow.” She sighed. “The plague,” she repeated on a whisper. “None of our clan has been infected, but I hear it is a sad wasting disease, stealing one’s magick first.”

“That is true. That sickness has not infected any of the shadow fae either.” Though there is another that was far worse taking hold.

“So she died alone.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “My poor mother.”

“From what the locals told me, she did not suffer. And she was well-respected by all who knew her. She was given good care by the neighbors until the end.”

“I don’t know how I knew she was dead. But hearing it hurts more.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

She kept quiet for a while, weeping silently. I forced myself to remain rigidly on my side, letting her have a moment to process this news and grieve privately. After a while, she looked at me carefully, her gaze lingering on my wings so long that I cleared my throat to get her attention.

A flush of pink warmed her cheeks, but then she asked boldly, “How did you get into Issos?” She waved a hand at my wings. “There is no way you simply flew into the city and people answered a shadow fae priest’s questions.”

I smiled. “You’re right. They’d never answer a shadow fae. But they would answer a noble Issosian’s questions, especially one who dropped a few coins in their pockets.”

She scoffed in disbelief, and I was grateful her tears had dried, even if her sadness lingered in the pinched lines around her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Do you know anything about the shadow fae?”

“Only what I’ve heard. That you’re the demons of the sky, enemies to all other fae, killers to all.”

I couldn’t help but laugh because she was actually serious. “Just because we prefer to live isolated from other fae doesn’t make us enemies. And we don’t indiscriminately kill others.” I sobered. “But we are territorial. We don’t like anyone on our mountain.”

For their own protection more than anything else.

“None of this explains how you got into Issos without alerting the palace guard and stirring a bee’s nest of trouble.”

I stood and pulled the rest of the roasted hare from the spit. “Are you still hungry?”

“No, and you’re avoiding the question.”

I pulled off one last piece and ate it, wondering if I should save it for breakfast. No.

She needed a proper meal in the morning. I threw the remains of the hare out into the night, hearing it break twigs on the way down.

“Vallon.”

Her use of my name jarred me. I turned to find her standing only a few feet away. Entranced for a moment by the way the blue light caressed her pretty features, I finally said, “I’m a novgala.”

“And what is that?”

“It’s probably easier to show you.”

“Then show me,” she demanded.

For a female who’d been raised to believe she was less than and forced to serve a father who didn’t treat her with an ounce of care or love, she was strong-willed and demanding in what she wanted. I liked it. Very much.

She needed to be both of those things if she were to be mine. And she would be.

Chapter

Eight

MURGHA

“All right,” Vallon agreed.

Then he whispered a command in another language. Demon tongue. I’d heard a few wraith fae speak it at the Borderlands when I’d brought my herbs to sell.

He was summoning magick. I could feel it tighten the air around us, a prickling sensation raising gooseflesh on my skin. A whimper escaped my mouth as I hadn’t expected the presence of magick like his to feel…pleasurable. It wrapped around me in a cocoon of warmth. Powerful energy sizzled through my body. No wood fae I knew possessed magick as strong as this.

I gasped as Vallon’s features disappeared, his form replaced by an Issosian Guard with blond hair, violet eyes, and golden fae wings. I gasped and jumped back.

He grinned, but it wasn’t Vallon’s striking face that smiled. It was a stranger in the sapphire and gold armor of Issos.

“You can transform yourself,” I breathed, taking a tentative step forward to peer closer.

“No. It is illusion only.” Vallon’s voice came from the Issosian’s lips. “I’m not transformed. It is glamour.”

I stared in astonishment, shaking my head. “It looks so real.” I reached out my hand then drew it back.

“You can touch me. If you like.”

Even in the guise of the guard, his gaze was intense and fixed on me. I reached up to the transparent upper wing over his left shoulder where I’d stitched his wound. But before my hand even landed on the fae wing, my fingertips bumped the rough hide of his dragon-like wing. I wrapped my fingers around the edge of bone, which was entirely invisible, like I was clutching onto air.

I laughed as I slid my palm up the invisible line of his wing. “It’s remarkable.”

He remained silent. But when I glanced up at him, I realized I was standing very close. His breathing was accelerated, but he was still as stone.

I was still holding onto his wing when the illusion melted away to reveal Vallon in all of his magnificence. I might’ve been terrified when I first saw him enter the inn, and even after when he chased me down and carried me away, but now I couldn’t see anything but his masculine beauty—the deep cleft in his chin, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the softness of his mouth, the radiance of his crimson eyes that looked at me now as if he wanted to devour me.

“A novgala,” he said in that low, deep timbre, “uses shadow and light to cast illusion.”

“But your illusion looked real, not like simple shadows.”

“I am a powerful novgala,” he stated with cool confidence. “I can manipulate shadow and light to the most infinitesimal degree.”

“Is this why you are high priest of your shadow fae clan?”

“One reason. Someone in my position needs many weapons in his arsenal.”

“Why does a priest need weapons? What sort of priest are you exactly?”

He didn’t answer, and I still had my hand wrapped around the upper bone of his wing. For some reason, I didn’t want to let go. I wanted to hold onto him for forever. It was the strangest sensation, but it was a shockingly strong compulsion. To stay as near to him as I could.

“Is that how you won the game of kings and bones?” I asked, realizing he wasn’t going to talk any more about being a priest. Not now anyway.

“Yes. Once we left, my illusion faded, and they could see the rodent skull was sitting on the outer edge of the board, and I hadn’t won at all.”

“So you won me with a lie.”

“I won you with my magick. And if I hadn’t, I would’ve still stolen you away, regardless.” His red eyes darkened, his features drawing tight. “I would never have let that ambassador lay a filthy hand on you, Murgha. You are mine to protect.”

For a breathless second, our gazes held. We were standing so close now I could feel his body heat. “Because of your vow to your father,” I clarified softly.

He didn’t agree or disagree. He simply stared at me with a feral intensity that had my heart rate tripping faster.

Finally, his gaze trailed up my arm where I was holding onto him. “I believe you should get some rest.” His fangs seemed longer, sharper than before. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

When I finally released him, he closed his eyes and took a step back. “You can sleep there.” He pointed to the pile of hides and furs.

“Where will you sleep?”

“I’ll keep watch.”

While I was aware that my fear of him had vanished into thin air at some point tonight, he was still a large, virile male. Though it wouldn’t do me much good if he wanted to harm me, I still wanted protection of some sort.

“I want my dagger,” I told him with my palm outstretched.

Instantly, he reached back to his belt and pulled it out and handed it over, hilt first. The dagger was small in his palm, and I suddenly became fascinated by his long, clawed fingertips.

By the goddess, what was happening to me?

I took the dagger and slid it into my scabbard at my belt beneath the coat.

“I have something else,” he said softly, opening a pouch on his wide belt. Then he pulled out the thin, gold necklace that was my mother’s.

“My necklace,” I breathed excitedly.

“Hold up your hair,” he commanded. “I’ll put it on for you.”

I paused for a moment, then turned away from him and lifted my hair out of the way. His large hands came around my front, pulling the strands of the chain on both sides. It seemed remarkable how he was able to be so gentle with the delicate chain and clasp and not break it with his large hands.

One of his claws scraped lightly across my nape as he worked the clasp, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I apologize. Almost done.”

The tremble I felt at his nearness, at his claw caressing my skin, had not been one of fear or pain. Quite the opposite.

“There,” he said then stepped away.

I peered down at the moonstone I’d cherished so much. I had no idea he’d snatched it from the pile. I’d thought to never see it again.

“Thank you.” I turned to find him seated with his back to the trunk of the wide tree, his wings spread, his booted feet crossed at the ankles. “This necklace is important to me,” I admitted.

“I know.” His eyes glittered by the blue coal-fire.

Without another word, I lay down on the makeshift bed, pulling one of the hides over me, facing away from him toward the fire and Gwenda, who was still sleeping soundly.

My mind rewound to the story of my mother. And my real father. The pain of their tragic tale sank deep. I blinked back the tears and closed my eyes, trying to imagine what it would’ve been like for my mother to find her true mate after she was already married.

The gods had a fate designed for everyone, if one believed in the gods. And I did.

I devoted myself to Elska, Goddess of the Wood. Though we had no temple in our new village since we’d left Myrkovir Forest, I still paid tribute to her with floral coronets of juniper and night phlox, believed to be her favorite flowers. I set them around the largest oak tree in the woods behind the house, creating my own temple for her. I prayed to her weekly, hoping for her blessings.

I’d once prayed for Mama to return, but then realized Tessa was all the family I needed. Then one night, Tessa went out to find medicine for father and never returned, so perhaps the goddess didn’t care for me much.

Maybe I was to have a tragic end like my mother, destined to never find the correct path until it was too late. Never to have a mate as the half-breed pariah that I was.

“Your father loved your mother,” came the velvet dark voice of the shadow fae. “And he loved you. Of that, you can be certain. The only reason he didn’t take her away to Issos was because she told him she couldn’t abandon your sister.”

I believed him. But it didn’t ease the sad ache blooming in my heart. It only made it spread wider, making me feel more alone than ever before.

Chapter

Nine

MURGHA

Iawoke from a restless sleep to a light tinkling sound and the soft chirp of morning larks. As the fuzz of a dream I couldn’t remember peeled away, memories of yesterday and last night returned to me. I bolted upright. What I saw immediately pulled a smile to my lips.

Vallon sat cross-legged on the far side of the coal-fire still burning, for I could feel its heat and see the dim glow in the gray morning light. He was hunched over, murmuring softly to Gwendazelle, who was crouched on the branch she’d slept upon, both of them holding ornate, silver teacups.

I rubbed my eyes and uncurled from the nest of blankets, my tummy rumbling at the sweet, spicy scent. They both looked up.

“Good morning,” said Vallon casually, taking a sip of tea.

“Morning, Murgha,” chirped Gwenda, sipping from her own tiny cup that seemed to be an exact replica of Vallon’s, only much, much smaller.

I blinked sleepily, wondering if I was dreaming. Between them was a steaming silver pot and a matching creamer decanter upon a small, silver tray.

Yesterday, when this terrifying shadow fae stormed into Papa’s inn and swept me away by force, I never imagined this picture of him sitting daintily with a pretty wood sprite, sipping morning tea from an obviously expensive and ornamental tea set.

“Do you like tea?” he asked.

“I love tea,” I told him honestly. Though I had never drunk from a service such as this.

“Have a seat.” He gestured toward the hide that was still spread out on his side of the fire, where I’d sat and interrogated him last night.

I sat, cross-legged, facing the tea set, admiring it as he poured a steaming cup.

“Do you take cream?”

I nodded. “I smell cinnamon. What is that other sweet smell?”

“Dried maragord peels and rose hips. It’s a simple tea, but one I prefer.”

I wanted to cry from sheer joy. Maragord was a delectable fruit that I rarely got the chance to eat. It grew in Northgall and the northern parts of Lumeria. It was utterly delicious.

I watched him pour the cream, his broad, clawed hands and long fingers looking elegant as he carefully served me tea. When I took the cup and sipped, he watched me carefully. I hummed with pleasure and smiled at the spicy sweetness and the richness of the cream. It tasted better than any tea I’d ever made for myself.

“This is delicious,” I admitted warmly.

He smiled. “Good.”

We sat in companionable silence, the three of us sipping tea as the world came awake with more chirping of birds in the forest. I admired the silver cup in my hand, an ornate, engraved design that looked like dragon wings but were actually those of a shadow fae with swirling flourishes that repeated all the way around.

I pointed at Gwenda. “You had a cup made for her?”

“Gwenda loves tea,” was his simple answer.

He didn’t explain how he apparently cared a great deal for the wood sprite. Gwenda smiled, flashing her serrated teeth before sipping again, the tiny teacup in both of her hands.

“They make these in Gadlizel?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Gadlizel is an extremely civilized city. We enjoy our tea as much as the next fae.”

I laughed. “I enjoy my tea in an earthenware cup with a chip on one side. This is far fancier than I’m used to.”

“You should have all the luxuries your heart desires.” His voice rumbled with silky sincerity.

For a moment, I was caught at the truth of it. He believed I deserved better. Besides Tessa, he was the first person to ever wish something more for me. I had to change the subject.

“What does Gadlizel look like?”

He finished his cup and set it on the tray. “It is a vast city spread across a valley midway up the Solgavia Mountains. The palace is closer to the peak. Our buildings are made of a pale slate that we quarry nearby. We have fine craftsman and artisans that have made the city one of the most beautiful in all the realms.”

“Is it more beautiful than Silvantis or Issos?” Those were the two great cities of Northgall and Lumeria.

“Much more beautiful.” He watched me, his gaze dipping to my mouth when I sipped my tea.

“I’d like to see Gadlizel.”

A crease formed between his brow before he set his cup on the tray. “You will. But we will stay in my villa for a time. It’s above the city proper.”

I didn’t want to wreck the peaceful morning, but I couldn’t refrain from telling him, “I want to search for my sister.”

He didn’t appear surprised.

“If she’s alive and truly living with the beast fae,” I continued, “then I must find her.”

“I know,” he said calmly. “I knew you would want to. But first, I must report to my prince. I’ve been away from Gadlizel for too long.”

“You’ve been here?” I gestured around us. “For how long?”

His gaze remained steady and poised. “A few months.”

He’d been camped up here in this makeshift shelter for months? Watching out for me?

“Why couldn’t you keep an eye on me from afar like your father did?”

He clamped his jaw tight and stood. “We should get moving.”

I finished my tea in one last gulp then handed him the cup. While he set about emptying the portable pit of blue-coal and packing it away, I found my brush at the bottom of my bag.

Gwenda perched on a branch and watched me with a contented smile as I untangled and unwound the small braids at my temples.

“It must look like a mess.”

She shook her head. “So pretty.”

I brushed through my mass of hair several times, very aware of Vallon moving around, stealing glances at me while he packed.

By the time he was done, I’d managed to braid my hair into one long rope. I thought it more practical for travel, to keep it out of my way. Once I’d stored my brush in my bag, I turned to find him waiting with his own rucksack slung over one shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked.

I was, of course, but then I realized I was about to be in his arms, flying high above the ground. When my pulse rocketed, I wasn’t sure if it was at the thought of flying again or being pressed so close to his body.

I nodded, and he closed the space between us, staring down at me with that enigmatic, cool expression. His crimson gaze was so intense I had to bite my lip to keep a whimper of pleasure from escaping. His nearness made me dizzy with an unquestionable desire. Heat crawled up my chest and neck, flushing my cheeks.

His gaze wandered over my face. “Don’t be nervous,” he said in that deep timbre of his.

“I’m not.”

When a sudden wind rustled the leaves, a strand of my hair I’d missed crossed my face and caught on my lip. He lifted his hand, and I didn’t move as he slowly removed the lock with one finger and tucked it behind my ear. His claw gently scraped my scalp, the pad of his finger gliding along the shell of my ear.

He watched me with careful scrutiny. Then he scooped me into his arms. I sucked in a breath and quickly wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Comfortable?” he asked.

As comfortable as I could be in a shadow fae’s arms. I wanted to laugh, but I simply nodded.

He looked up, revealing the line of his thick, masculine throat. I was shocked at my sudden desire to bury my face there and inhale deeply of his scent.

Some madness must have come over me. I didn’t even know this male, and my entire being—heart, soul, and body—was wholly entranced by him.

So what if he’d saved me from being gambled away to that disgusting ambassador? I would’ve run away from Rukard if he’d won me in the game. And sure, Vallon had also had enough care to grab my necklace for me. He had honor in heeding his father’s dying wish. But I’d admired many similar males before and not had this visceral, aroused reaction to them.

He was a foreigner. A dark fae. By all accounts, an enemy to our kind.

Then why did he feel like the opposite to me, like a trusted friend I’ve been waiting for all my life?

He flew north, the sun slowly rising to the east and glazing the world in gold. Yet again, I became fascinated by the way the landscape looked from up here.

“Are you warmer in the new clothes?” His chest rumbled, his voice close and intimate even while the wind rushed over us.

“Yes.” I hadn’t realized how drafty and uncomfortable my dress had been from this height until he asked. “Thank you for the clothes.”

“You’re welcome.”

Down below, I could see a cluster of small buildings spread out in a curving line. “That’s the Borderlands?”

The Borderlands weren’t a village of any particular kind. And it was home to many different kinds of fae—light and dark. It was literally a string of sporadic inns, houses, and shops selling wares to anyone who passed between Lumeria and Northgall.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Is that where we’re going?”

He began to descend, flapping his wings once then soaring on air.

“I need to get a decent meal into you before our longer trek into the mountains.”

He didn’t land next to what looked to be a tavern and inn as I’d expected. Instead, he slowed and dropped behind a copse of trees close to the inn. From here, I could read the sign hanging over the door with bright yellow lettering—The Black Boar.

He set me on my feet, his large hand steadying me before he let go.

“Are we hiding from someone?” I asked as he peered through the thin grove of trees at the inn.

“Merely being cautious. Making sure no other Mevian guards are looking for you.”

I’d been so consumed with my captor at the time, I hadn’t thought about those guards. Strange how a mere few hours could change everything. I had no intention of escaping now or ever going back.

“What happened to the other guards in my village?”

“One is dead. The other had better found a healer by now if he wanted to save his arm.” Then he walked on casually ahead of me.

I hurried to catch up. “Dead?”

A frown creased his brow. “They tried to kill me if you recall. I thought I was being kind to let one live.”

An uncomfortable laugh bubbled up my throat. “Very kind.”

“Would you have preferred they kill me? Then drag you off to be that abhorrent lecher’s property?”

He was offended, and I realized quickly I didn’t want to hurt him, not even in the smallest way. I’m not sure where these protective instincts came from in regard to Vallon, but I couldn’t do anything besides act on them.

“Of course not.” I shrugged. “It’s just that sword fights to the death aren’t something I normally witness. Actually, I’ve never seen a physical altercation like that in my life.” Though I had run away before I had seen much of it at all. But I had seen Vallon deftly dodge and swing his sword, fighting two at once with practiced ease.

“I’ve lived a rather quiet, sheltered life away from violence and war,” I added.

“You’re fortunate in that regard.”

I huffed a small laugh. “I suppose I’m a little shocked that anyone was fighting over me in the first place. That’s never happened, even if it likely had more to do with the guardsmen’s pride than anything else.”

Vallon pulled me to a stop and faced me, his large hand wrapped around my forearm. His expression had hardened into sharp, tight angles. “The fact that no male saw fit that you were and are a female worth fighting for is their loss. But I’m here now.” He shifted closer, those crimson eyes bewitching in their intensity. “And I’ll kill anyone who dares to even touch you.”

For a breathless moment, I simply stared back, soaking in his lethal promise. I tried for levity, smiling as I said, “You’ve taken your father’s vow very seriously.”

His answering reply was a sweeping examination of my face, ending at my mouth. Then he dropped my arm and urged me forward with a hand at my back. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Chapter

Ten

MURGHA

After Tessa disappeared and Papa had recovered from his illness, I’d begged him to gather some fae males and look for her. Other than search near the stream where she’d gone that night, he’d done nothing at all.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Because Tessa was his favorite child, of course, he sank into a depression for a time, drinking and gambling even more than before she’d gone.

Though I’d always believed her letter was coerced, I wondered now if it were true. She’d given me an option to join her with her beast fae mate and his clan, but the idea had seemed so ludicrous at the time. I’d laughed at the very idea of leaving the safety of my home.

But my home wasn’t safe. I could see in the bitterness of Papa’s stares and his lack of any care at all for me that I was in danger.

So I’d gathered some herbs to sell and ventured to the Borderlands a few times, seeking any word or news of my sister. I was terrified at first, seeing wraith fae for the first time. I’d even seen two beast fae females traveling with a child.

No one had heard of my sister or of a beast fae male abducting a wood fae. To my surprise, the dark fae I’d met on my few trips were kind and courteous, if a little wary.

So I wasn’t nervous about entering The Black Boar, even in the company of a shadow fae who were rarely, if ever, seen in these parts. He was the first of his kind I’d ever encountered. I wondered if they were all as magnificent as him.

He ushered me inside and to a booth in the corner, facing the window. In the rest of the tavern, there was only a wraith fae couple—both two-horned and dressed in well-made, homespun clothes. The male watched us with a curious expression but returned to his meal when Vallon pointedly glared at him.

After we settled into opposite seats, the table between us, I gave him an exasperated look.

“What?” he snapped.

“You don’t have to stare at him so angrily. He has done nothing to you.”

“That’s correct. And now he knows to stay out of my way.”

“Why would he bother you at all?”

He exhaled heavily and leaned forward, speaking low. “Because my kind aren’t liked by the other dark fae, much less any Lumerians we come across.”

“Why don’t they like you?”

“Because we keep to ourselves and defend our mountains at all costs. It’s created several altercations in the past. And a war or two.”

“Oh, just a war or two, that’s not so bad.”

His glacial expression didn’t crack at my teasing sarcasm.

“Why are you protecting the mountains?” I asked him.

“We’ve always protected the mountains.” His voice had dropped deeper.

“That’s not an answer,” I snapped back.

Our gazes held. His jaw was clamped tight as he refused to tell me what he was hiding.

Finally, I broke the tension-laced silence. “If you’re so concerned about being attacked, why not change your appearance? Maybe back to that handsome Issosian guard you mimicked last night?”

His expression hardened further, and when he leaned across the table, his clawed fingers clasped in a forced relaxed posture, his voice had darkened to a dangerous level. “You found him handsome, did you?”

“Of course, I did.”

But not nearly as handsome as you.

“Is that what you’re attracted to?” He sneered. “Soft-faced golden boys?”

I blinked at him, speechless, for I was positively sure his anger was jealousy.

I’d always been the biddable, good daughter. Always trying to make up for the deficiencies of my birth, hoping that if I were good enough, Papa might finally love me. That someone might love me beyond Tessa.

But something had changed yesterday. When Papa had gambled me away like I was nothing more than a piece of property he was readily willing to lose, a crack opened up inside of me. Rather than fall into the deep abyss, it opened wide a new door, a new world. One where I didn’t need to be the good daughter anymore.

Then this stranger had appeared and whisked me away from all that I knew, changed me into strange clothes, and in telling me the truth, gave me back not only my mother, but my father. They had loved each other, and they had loved me.

The Murgha sitting across from the fuming shadow fae was not the meek girl I had been before. A tendril of heat and excitement threaded through my belly at the angry dark fae staring at me as if he truly wanted to eat me alive.

I should be shaking with fear, but the shiver that skated down my spine had nothing at all to do with fear. It was thick, sweet desire. And I wanted more of it. So I did the only thing I could do. I teased him.

“The Issosian you transformed into was undeniably attractive. Do you know him? Is he someone you might introduce me to?”

“He is no one. Someone I met in my travels. And you will never meet him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t like—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. I arched a brow, waiting for more, but then a waitress appeared at our table.

“Morning. Aren’t you two an interesting pair?”

Vallon’s hard gaze shot to her, but she merely raised one hand, palm out. Her splayed hand revealed the webbing of skin between her fingers. She was a skald fae.

“I meant no offense, priest. What can I get for you two this morning?”

“What do you have?” he grumbled.

“We’ve got wild hog ham, fresh bread, an assortment of cheese, poached eggs, spiced berry jam, and honey-and-cream oats.”

“Bring us two servings of everything. And a pot of tea.” Then Vallon looked past her toward the bar. “Is Haldek in the back?”

“He is.”

Vallon leaned over the table, catching my gaze with that intensity that was becoming far too familiar. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.” Then he shoved out of the booth and strode toward a door next to the bar that must lead to the kitchen area.

When I turned my attention back to the skald fae, I found her observing me carefully. I couldn’t help but admire her striking features.

Her hair was a vibrant red, like that of a cloak I had seen and coveted once on a Mevian fae who’d passed through our village. Her eyes were jewel green, the color I imagined the Nemian Sea might be. The skald fae lived in Mordon next to the sea named after their sea god.

“You’re far from home,” she said to me finally.

“So are you,” I observed.

When she smiled, her wide mouth and feline-shaped eyes only made her look more striking. I’d always thought myself fair, but she was as pale as parchment.

There was something else about her that tingled my senses, making gooseflesh rise on my arms. That always happened when my seer abilities sprang to the forefront. But I didn’t have a vision or a flash of knowing, just a hint of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

She glanced over her shoulder before she leaned closer. “Do you need help?”

I almost laughed. Yesterday afternoon, I would’ve begged anyone for help to get away from the giant shadow fae who’d abducted me. But today, he was no longer my enemy. He was my ally. And he was going to help me find my sister.

“No,” I said with a smile.

Then she arched her brow with a wicked expression. “Ah, I see now.” She winked. “Let me just get that breakfast for you then.”

She swished off in her plain, brown dress that only accentuated her vibrant coloring all the more and went through the door where Vallon had disappeared. I was surprised she jumped to the conclusion that Vallon and I were—what—lovers? More than that?

The idea flipped my belly with nerves. For so many reasons. Strangely, none of them were because I abhorred the idea.

The wraith fae couple ate their breakfast and murmured softly, not even looking my way. The tavern was built with better craftsmanship than my Papa’s. Not my Papa, I suppose. Not anymore. I had to keep reminding myself.

There were sturdy beams across the ceiling, carved from the pale gray trunks of esher trees. That would’ve cost the owner a pretty penny seeing as eshers only grew far to the north near Silvantis.

The tables and chairs were crafted with flourishing designs that showed the artisan had an artist’s eye, not simply the practical eye of a builder. The tall and wide fireplace was built of large, smooth river stones someone had to have hauled with great care or purchased at a hefty price.

The skald fae entered through the swinging kitchen door and returned to my booth with a pot of tea that smelled of spiced cloves and redberries, a lovely combination, though not as sweet and tempting as Vallon’s.

She set two ceramic cups on the table and a decanter of cream. I bit back a smile, remembering Vallon’s fancy, silver tea service high in the tree this morning.

“Thank you,” I told her.

“You’re welcome.” She propped a hand on her hip. “Where are you two headed?”

“The Solgavia Mountains,” I told her easily, not knowing any reason I shouldn’t, my gaze straying to her webbed hand on her hip. “Why are you living so far from Morodon?”

“Why are you living so far from the forests of Lumeria?” She quirked a dark red brow at me, a deeper shade than her hair.

I laughed. “Many reasons.”

“I see. Same for me.”

“I’m Murgha,” I told her, reaching out a hand.

She shook it. “Jessamine.”

The outer door opened. Jessamine stiffened but then relaxed when she saw the two wraith fae step into the tavern. Actually, when the tiny female removed her cloak, I could see small black wings tucked against her back. Like Vallon’s. She had the dark gray complexion of a wraith fae and two delicate horns curling back over her fine black hair that was cut short.

The wraith fae male she was with was big and brawny, wearing black armor and silver bands on his four horns, designating him of some importance. One of his horns was broken.

“Back so soon,” Jessamine called to them.

The one with the broken horn looked her way, smiling brightly, revealing he was missing an eye. Despite his scarred face, he appeared a gentle soul. That knowledge hummed in my breast, making me feel at ease.

“Just passing through, Jessamine. Heading back to Silvantis.”

Jessamine turned to me. “Be right back with your breakfast.” Then she walked over to the newcomers who had settled in a booth on the wall opposite from me.

“Tea or ale?”

“Ale for me,” said the broken-horned fae. “Tea for Hava.”

Vallon stepped back through the door, his gaze shooting to me first and then the new wraith fae. Rather than dart them murderous looks as I’d expected, his expression relaxed, a small smile quirking his lips.

Jessamine marched away, passing Vallon on her way back into the kitchen. Rather than rejoin me, Vallon walked over to the two newcomers.

“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you in this neck of the woods, priest,” said the broken-horned one.

They knew each other then.

“Keffa.” Vallon nodded at him. “You either. On an errand for the king?”

“Just left him at Windolek Castle.”

Vallon grunted. “I heard the queen is healthy and thriving after giving birth to his heir.”

This was new news to me, but I smiled at the memory of having met Princess Una once, now the Queen of Northgall and Lumeria. It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d passed through our village in Myrkovir Forest during the Autumnal Solstice celebration, when I had scried my first true vision. I’d never told Tessa because I couldn’t quite believe it myself. I’d been given one of the greatest gifts from the gods—the ability to see prophecy.

When I’d tried to tell Tessa that I believed my magick, which hadn’t shown up before then, might be that of a seer, she had told me it was impossible. Wood fae didn’t have that kind of magick. And though she knew as well as I that I wasn’t a full-blooded wood fae, it seemed to dishearten her that I might be so different from her.

So I stopped talking about it. Perhaps my feelings were nothing more than paranoia. Or basic intuition.

It didn’t matter. I never had to tell Tessa again because I had never had any other visions after that single time I’d given one to Princess Una. But I could feel the magick stirring again, that same deep well of energy, an overflow of force. Like it was waiting for something.

“She is doing well,” the female with the broken-horned fae said excitedly. “As is their babe. All are fine and healthy.”

“I don’t believe you met my mate before,” the one named Keffa said. “This is Hava.”

“We weren’t mates then,” the female said teasingly to Keffa.

Vallon dipped his chin. “Greetings, Hava.” He turned back to Keffa. “I’m surprised you didn’t stay with King Gollaya.”

“He needs me in Näkt Mir. Tending to business while he’s away.”

“Must be good to be the king.”

“It is now,” agreed Keffa, his voice more somber. A heaviness seemed to pause their conversation, and then Keffa asked, “What are you doing in the Borderlands, priest?”

“Tending to some business of my own.”

“Your business involve that pretty, fair-haired light fae over there?”

I looked away, sipping my tea, when I felt both their gazes on me. I hadn’t realized the wraith fae named Keffa had even noticed me.

Jessamine returned carrying a heavy tray of dishes. “Here you are, Murgha,” she said, piling them on the table.

My stomach growled at the small feast, especially when I saw the bowl of fresh-whipped butter.

“Thank you.” I dove into the breadbasket first.

“Enjoy.”

As she sauntered off, Vallon took his seat again.

“How do you know those wraith fae?” I asked.

“Some business with the king and his mizrah last year. They needed our help with…something.”

Glancing over, I couldn’t help but stare at the unusual female with wings. Wraith fae didn’t have wings.

“Yes,” said Vallon, seeming to peer into my thoughts, “she’s half wraith and shadow fae.”

“That’s unusual, isn’t it?” I didn’t know that different dark fae mated.

“It is. But not unheard of.”

I grew silent a moment, ruminating on myself as a half-breed light fae. For once, I didn’t feel the shame that always accompanied such thoughts.

“I met her once,” I said, putting some white cheese onto my plate. “Princess Una.”

“When was this?” he asked curiously, forking some ham onto his plate.

“Years ago. Before we left Myrkovir. She was very kind.”

And the gods spoke to me for the first time that day. They’d wanted me to tell my vision to the princess. So I had.

“You and the skald fae seem friendly.” He changed the subject, obviously not wanting to discuss her or the king or how and why they’d met before.

“She’s a friendly person. Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

“Not especially.” He poured himself some tea. “She’s just a curious one.”

“You’ve met her before?”

“Yes. Though she doesn’t know it. I usually come here shadowed as someone else. But the owner, Haldek, knows the real me. We’ve helped each other with information before.”

“What about Jessamine? What’s curious about her?”

“She’s a skald fae far from home and far from water. Skald fae need water to keep their magick strong. I can sense magick in her, though I have no idea what her gift from the gods might be.”

Like all fae, the skald people held gifts that were more aligned to their natural abilities. Some were willodens, water-wielders. Some could speak to and befriend naiads. Naiads were notoriously fierce and cruel, hating most of fae kind, so to be able to connect with one was a god-given gift. Some skald fae could even speak to the fish and mammals of the sea.

“You’re right.” I frowned, watching Jessamine deliver ale and tea to the newcomers with a bright smile. “I can sense her magick as well. It should be dimmed being so far away from the sea.”

“She’s hiding something,” said Vallon.

“Maybe she’s hiding from someone.” I set my piece of bread on my plate, wiping my mouth with my napkin and wondering if Papa or Rukard would send more after me.

My pulse leaped with fear of being dragged back to the village. I wanted to laugh at the turn of events in less than a full day.

Vallon wore that intense expression again, his hard gaze on me. “If the man who raised you or the Mevian sends anyone after you, I’ll kill them, Murgha.”

“You don’t have to murder anyone,” I whispered. “A sound beating will do.”

“It wouldn’t be murder. It would be justice.”

“Nevertheless, we don’t have to leave a trail of bodies behind us. That might make us easier to find.”

“I’d love for them to find us.” He forked a piece of ham into his mouth. “Need to do something with this…aggression.”

“Why are you so aggressive? Since we left our little treehouse, you’ve been so moody, like you’re ready to flay people alive.”

I spooned some honey onto the bread and ate a huge bite, licking the spot of honey off my lip. Vallon’s attention was solely on my mouth. I stopped chewing, suddenly self-conscious. But his focus didn’t waver, the red of his irises slowly being absorbed by the black.

I swallowed the bread, the bite going down thickly. His gaze skimmed down my throat, which only increased my pulse, pounding hard at the base.

Vallon eased his back against the booth, flattening his wings wide, and finally met my gaze again. “I’ll let you know what the aggression is about soon enough, but I’m beginning to think you know.”

“I don’t.” Though perhaps I had some idea.

“I’ll show you when we get to my home in the Solgavia Mountains.” His look was savage, predatory.

“What if I don’t want you to show me?”

That was what finally cracked his expression. But his smile with a hint of fang was not disarming at all. It only catapulted my pulse faster.

“It’s too late for that, Murgha.”

Chapter

Eleven

VALLON

Leaving Haldek’s place and being back in the sky with her safely in my arms should’ve calmed me. It didn’t. If anything, it only amplified the heart-rattling emotions beginning to consume my every thought.

She’d been quiet since we left, her expression serious. We’d been flying for a few hours. Other than me pointing out landmarks I thought she might be interested in like when we crossed over Lake Moreen, I’d also remained silent.

“Aren’t you getting tired?” she asked, the wind having pulled strands of her hair loose.

Every now and then, the wind would blow a silken strand against my neck or chin, the soft caresses torturous.

“It might be good to rest a few minutes.” It would be good for me to take a break from her intoxicating scent and the soft warmth of her body in my arms. “Besides, you look cold.”

Her cheeks were pink from the constant beat of the wind, and it was beginning to concern me. She wasn’t shivering, but the temperatures had dropped dramatically since we’d been flying directly north for several hours. Summer in the mountains felt like winter in Lumeria where she was from.

“A warm fire would be good for a bit,” she agreed.

We were directly over the higher foothills of the Solgavia Mountains. I beat my wings and banked us down toward a winding stream. We could fill our canteens there as well.

When we landed, I set her on her feet, then took a moment to wind my arms backward to rotate my shoulder muscles that had become tight and stiff from holding her so long.

“Sorry about that,” she said, watching me.

“I’m fine,” I assured her.

“Where’s Gwenda?”

“She likes to go off by herself, but she always finds me.”

Murgha nodded while looking around at the gurgling brook flowing with the clear blue water of snow-melt from high in the Solgavias. There was sparse vegetation, but a lone, thick-trunked elm tree sprouted in a nice spot with some flat stones.

I observed the entire area, seeking any signs of danger. I hadn’t seen anyone, but I sensed there may be shadow fae nearby. There should be a patrol on guard a little higher up. The fact that I hadn’t seen anyone should’ve eased my tension, but it didn’t.

Prince Torvyn had grown more distant over the past year. Who could blame him with the king’s maddening rages? But even that wasn’t what set all of us on edge, what had caused our corps of priests to become more and more vigilant. The evil was spreading, and our efforts to suppress it were futile.

Murgha stepped along the brook, smiling serenely. She wanted to know why we guarded the mountain. I’d have to tell her eventually. But for now, I wanted to keep that ugly truth to myself.

My gaze caught on something farther up the stream. Instantly, I walked toward it, passing Murgha, but as I did, I took her hand gently in mine.

She startled but didn’t pull away.

“Come see,” I said, tugging her toward the bush.

She followed, letting me hold her small hand in mine. That simple touch accelerated my heart rate. Yet again, that deep ache in my fangs, the need to put my mark on her, was growing fierce.

A shadow fae didn’t hesitate when he found his mate. He simply took her. It was common among my kind. Our females understood. Often, they’d fight the male off. He’d have to prove himself worthy of claiming her by dominating her in battle, then in bed. If he could subdue her, then he was good enough for her to accept his bite.

But Murgha wasn’t a shadow fae female, born with the gifts of a warrior and of illusion. She couldn’t get away from me if she tried. So small. So delicate. A hard possessiveness clutched me in an iron fist.

So I wouldn’t heed the desperate urge burning a hole inside my chest, pushing me to grip her hard, hold her down, and sink my teeth and cock inside her. Not yet.

“Look.” My voice was deep and rough, but I kept a gentle hold on her hand, showing her what I’d seen.

She gasped. “Dellabore!”

Letting my hand go, she rushed forward and kneeled before the flowering bush. The black-pedaled leaves gleamed with a silky sheen even on this cloudy day.

“They’re so beautiful,” she marveled, beaming up at me.

Her smile made her more lovely, the sight tearing into me a little deeper.

“I’ll go make a fire.”

“Can I take some of the flower petals? Will they harm me?”

“There’s no toxin in the petals or the leaves but use your dagger. They’re tough. And be careful of the spikes on the leaves.”

She was pulling her dagger from the scabbard as I turned and headed back down the small incline. I needed more space. I needed a moment to quell this growing desire I couldn’t seem to control.

Shaking my head at myself, I pulled the portable firepit from my satchel. I’d always been a man of control, the High Priest of Gadlizel with unshakable nerve and poise. Torvyn would laugh if he saw me now, completely undone by a tiny, fair-haired light fae.

I’d told the prince—and my best friend—where I’d been going the past many months. He knew of my vow to my father, but he also knew my duty to him and to Gadlizel came first. At least, it had…before I’d seen her. Before I’d realized she was my divine mate, given to me by the gods.

I’d always imagined my mate would be a fierce warrior, perhaps touched with golden hair by Solzkin himself. I imagined she might be serious and strong with great black wings, so the two of us could soar high over the peaks together.

I could never in my wildest fantasies have imagined that she would be someone like Murgha—small and sweet and so very vulnerable. My heart twisted.

She had no wings to escape danger, no training as a warrior. Though she could wield a tiny dagger fast enough. I smiled at the memory of her holding it to my throat, ready to defend herself. Her courage was greater than any shadow fae female I’d ever known. Murgha had every reason to cower against an opponent twice her size, but she didn’t.

After setting up the blue coal fire, I went about pulling out the bread and cheese that Jessamine had wrapped for us. Murgha might be hungry.

Standing, I peered up the stream, not seeing her at the dellabore bush. “Murgha?”

Instantly, I climbed back up to the rocky slope where I’d left her. Right as I reached the dellabore bush, a gasping scream echoed from around a boulder.

“Murgha!”

In a flash, I was around the corner, my gaze falling to her dagger sitting on the edge of a crevasse in the mountainside. Instantly, I was on my belly, peering inside the narrow opening.

“Murgha!” I sensed and smelled her in the darkness.

“I’m here,” her voice echoed shakily.

“Are you hurt?”

“I fell on something sharp. My arm is scraped a little.” Her voice trembled, and her pulse quickened. “Vallon?”

“Hang on. I think I can loosen these stones here and squeeze down to you.” She’d fallen through a crack where the stone had crumbled and come loose, but there was another scent wafting from down below that I didn’t like.

“Vallon?”

On my knees, I pulled loose a stone as wide as my chest and dropped it aside. “I’m coming.”

Her voice trembled more as she said in a near whisper, “I think there’s something down here with me.”

Falling back onto my belly, I peered through the wider opening, my gut twisting with blood-chilling fear.

“Don’t move,” I warned in a low voice. “Be very still.”

Murgha tilted her pale face up at the opening, squinting in the dark at the light above and holding her bleeding arm. Surrounding her in a mountainous spill into the shadows were piles and piles of bones.

Chapter

Twelve

MURGHA

Ifroze, more from the deadly tone of his voice than his command. He removed another stone, more gray light spilling through the crevice above into the pit where I’d fallen. That’s when I saw what I was sitting upon.

Scattered and broken, some still with flesh clinging to them, I had fallen into a den of bones. A predator’s den. They weren’t the remnants of deer or boar or other large prey. They were the skulls, legs, arms, and wings of dead fae. One of the skulls, completely white with two giant spiraling horns, was that of a beast fae. The jaw was open in a soundless scream.

But not even that was what had my heart pumping hard with fear. There was something foul filling this space, a dark essence that awakened my magick with a burning sensation blazing through my veins. It hurt. I whimpered.

“I can’t breathe,” I whispered to myself, my chest rising and falling so quickly I began to feel dizzy.

“I’m coming!” Vallon shouted from overhead, removing another stone from the opening.

Then a low, sinister rumble filled the cavern. In the deep shadows, four eyes glowed silver in the dark.

“Murgha, listen to me.” Vallon’s voice was deep and urgent. “Do not move. It will not be able to see you if you don’t move. He can smell you, but my shield will confuse his senses.”

I didn’t ask what he meant. In the next second, I was encased in a gray shroud, magick covering me like a blanket. Instinctively, I knew that it was Vallon’s magick. He’d swathed me in shadow, so the bones around me became a smudged blur. And though I could barely see those four eyes growing closer, it was the feel of this beast that had me trembling with terror.

The clamor of stones being shifted and Vallon’s labored breathing above felt distant as I homed in on the creature crawling closer to me. When it slithered near the light, to keep from making a sound, I bit on my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood.

It slid across the cavern floor and over piles of bones with a giant serpentine body, its horned head nearly scraping the top of the cavern. But it wasn’t a serpent entirely. It had eight muscular legs that ended in long black claws as long as my arm. The creature’s forked tongue lanced the air and then it hissed, revealing rows and rows of long, sharp fangs.

Vallon was right. His shadow magick had kept me completely camouflaged. Barely even breathing, I remained perfectly still as it slithered over a mound of bones, sending several skulls rolling to the side.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would leap from my chest as it came even closer, bringing with it a wave of evil so potent I sucked in a breath. This creature wasn’t simply a predator. It was filled with something malevolent and wicked.

It moved farther into the light, heading toward me slowly, it’s black, forked tongue licking the air. Its scales were a pattern of shiny silver and dark gray would make it blend into the mountain when hunting prey. But right now, it didn’t need to hide. It simply needed to find me. If it stepped five steps to the right, its forked tongue would lick right across my face.

I pulled my injured arm closer to my chest, dislodging a femur bone at my elbow that went rolling down the small hill. The creature jerked its giant head in my direction and opened its jaws with a terrifying hiss. It knew where I was. It coiled its body upward ready to strike.

Blessed Mother of the Wood, protect me.

Then the beating of huge, black wings dragged my attention upward. Vallon dove through the opening like a falling star, his sword poised above him. The beast was so intent on me that it looked up too late.

Vallon landed on its head and sank its sword into its eye up to the hilt. The creature screamed so loud I covered my ears. It shook back and forth, trying to dislodge Vallon, but my shadow fae was stabbing over and over, gouging out one eye then moving to the other.

When I thought the monster had kicked him off balance he’d actually leaped to the floor of bones, dragging his sword across the creature’s throat. It hissed and screamed, black blood spewing as it scrambled backward to flee into its den. But Vallon had already given the death blow. Before the serpent completely withdrew into the shadows, it collapsed onto its pile of bones, black tongue hanging from its mouth.

Suddenly, the gray haze was gone and Vallon had me in his arms. Then we were airborne, and he flew us back through the crevice above. His wings scraped the edges as we passed through the opening and shot straight up then down the small incline to where the blue coal-fire was burning. There was unwrapped cheese and bread scattered on the ground.

He set me on a large stone next to the stream, the soft babbling water a sharp contrast to the suffocating silence of that den.

Chest heaving, Vallon bent over the stream and splashed the water on his hands and arms where the blood of the creature had splattered. I watched him stalk back to his satchel, yank out a cloth, and frantically wipe the creature’s remnants off him, swiping the towel across his face as well.

“Your wings,” I murmured as I gulped in the fresh air, no longer stifled by the oppressive stench of death and evil down below.

“My wings?” he huffed with exasperation, his voice trembling as he finally turned to me.

Tossing the cloth onto the rocks near the coal-fire, he strode toward me, his expression tight and stern. He gripped me by the shoulders and hauled me roughly to my feet. Then, very gently, he cupped my face, his hands shaking. I instinctively covered his hands with mine, needing to comfort him. So strange it was what had been running through my mind—that Vallon needed me to soothe him, and it was my place to do so.

“You hurt your wings on the rocks,” I whispered dumbly as he held me so intimately.

“Fuck my wings, Murgha.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I almost lost you.”

“You didn’t,” I whispered, tilting my face closer to his.

Then we were sharing breaths, and that deep, aching longing for the affection of another hit me with ferocity. He didn’t bridge the tiny space between our mouths, so I dared to do it myself.

Lightly, I brushed my lips across his. “I’m here.”

He stiffened for a moment, then ever-so-gently he grazed his mouth against mine. The sensation was divine. Pure loveliness.

He coaxed and teased my lips apart then sank into my mouth on a groan. When his tongue touched mine, I kissed him back with desperate need. I stroked mine against his, slowly sliding my tongue along one of his fangs.

One of his arms came around my waist, lifting me against his hard body. I felt his stiffened cock against my belly, and my reaction wasn’t at all what I would’ve thought. It shocked me that I wanted to open my legs and take him inside me.

I had the uncontrollable urge to touch him, to feel him. I glided my hands up his broad shoulders and clasped them beneath his hair at his nape.

He moaned into my mouth, pressing me closer. With one hand, he encircled the back of my neck, his thumb resting on the pulse at the base of my throat. His other hand slid down my spine to my backside, cupping me firmly. I rocked my hips forward, a gasping moan escaping my mouth, breaking our kiss.

He eased back, his feral gaze intent on mine, full of heat and want and determination. He held me hard in his arms, my feet not even touching the ground. I’d never been so brazen, but I pressed my breasts closer, easing forward to capture his lips again. But he didn’t let me, keeping just out of reach.

“Murgha.”

“I love the way you say my name.”

He set me on my feet but kept his hands firmly on me. “You’re hurt.” His gaze shot to my arm, his scowl deepening. “I’m sorry.” He let me go abruptly and stepped away, taking his warmth with him.

Knees shaking, I sat on the stool, reeling from the erratic sensations still buzzing through my body. I’d never felt desire like that before, not even with Dellyn. Nothing even close.

Was it because I was so desperate for someone’s affection? I’d promised myself I’d only give myself to one male, the one who’d vowed himself to me. Because no male had ever even considered me worthy of more than a bedding, I never thought them worthy of my body either.

But seconds ago, all of that had flown from my mind. I was a creature of pure sensation and desire.

It wasn’t as if a husband couldn’t leave his wife either. That happened all the time. But I thought, at least, if my future husband and I made a vow under the gods’ blessing to honor and cherish one another, then it would be harder for that male to leave me. That’s why I’d made that promise to myself. I was ashamed how readily I was to forget that.

Vallon snatched the cloth off the ground and dipped it in the stream. He returned and kneeled on both knees in front of me, sighing as he pulled back the torn sleeve of my coat. “This didn’t protect you much, did it?”

“The cut would’ve been deeper if I’d been in my own cloak.”

He muttered something in demon tongue I didn’t understand then pressed the ice-cold cloth to the cut. It was a jagged bone that had torn through my coat and blouse to my forearm.

“Hurt?” he asked when I winced.

“No. It feels good.”

“I don’t have any ointment. But we’re only a few more hours from Gadlizel.”

“Are you sorry you kissed me?” I blurted.

He jerked his gaze to mine, his silky black hair coasting over the exposed part of my wrist. “Why would you ask that?”

“You stopped so suddenly. I thought you might have thought it was a mistake.”

“Do you think it was mistake?” he asked, his expression tight with anticipation as if my answer mattered greatly.

I considered my feelings, my emotions of relief and gratefulness that he’d saved me and dragged me out of that nightmare of a pit. But that wasn’t what had made me press my lips to his. It had come from somewhere deeper. Or, perhaps, somewhere divine.

“No,” I finally answered.

The tension in his face eased. “It doesn’t look bad enough to need stitches, thank the gods.”

“What about you?” I pushed. “Did you think it was mistake?”

He huffed out a laugh, his fangs flashing when he met my gaze. A tremble shivered through me at the sight of his teeth. I had the most outrageous desire to lick them again, feel the sharp prick of them on my tongue.

Those crimson eyes filled with the same heat of a few moments ago. “No, Murgha. It was not a mistake. It was as it should be.”

When I thought he might ease forward and kiss me again, the fluttering of tiny wings announced Gwendazelle’s arrival right before she landed on my knee.

“Murgha is hurt? What happened? What happened!” Her round black eyes widened with alarm.

“It’s all right,” I assured her.

“It was a nightwyrm.”

“It attacked during the day?” She shook her little head. “Not good. Not normal.”

“Indeed,” said Vallon, “and they don’t prey upon the fae.”

“The creature was unnatural,” I said, remembering how I’d sensed something odd near the dellabore bush and had followed the pulse of dark magick seeming to come right out of the ground. “I was looking for the source of that unnatural essence, and I slipped…”

I was falling again, slipping back into the abyss, and then I could no longer see Vallon’s concerned expression or Gwenda’s worried one. I could see nothing at all, my mind slipping into that misty world of visions.

Of prophecy.

Chapter

Thirteen

VALLON

Murgha’s violet eyes glazed over as she stared into the distance.

“Murgha?” I gripped her hands in mine, rubbing them to get her attention.

She didn’t move or answer. Her vacant stare didn’t worry me as much as it surprised me. I’d seen this happen before on seers in Gadlizel. When we once had them. King Halvar had excommunicated them all except for the very last, the one he’d slain in his great hall at the Feast of Solzkin. What should have been a time of celebration had turned into an unjust execution.

I pressed a finger to my lips as Gwenda fluttered her wings frantically, not understanding what was happening. But she sensed the magick as surely as I did. She settled and stared up at Murgha expectantly.

Murgha finally straightened her spine and spoke in a hollow voice. “Darkness is here. More will come. The demon of night speaks to many beings. Even a misguided king. He whispers of blood and massacre, of ruin and the fall. When he is set free, it will be the end of all.”

Then Murgha gasped and blinked her eyes rapidly, coming back to us. I coasted my hands up her arms, squeezing lightly.

“How do you feel?” I asked her.

“Fine, I…”

“You didn’t tell me you were a seer.” I couldn’t help the gruffness in my voice, sounding somewhat accusing.

“I’ve only ever had one other vision. That was years ago. I didn’t know.”

“You had to.”

“I wasn’t sure.” She licked her lips nervously. “Sometimes, I get feelings about things. Like down in that den.”

“What did you sense there?”

She gulped, her slender throat working. “Evil. I think that’s why I had a vision now. It feels so close.” She shook her head, tears pricking in her eyes. “What is wrong here in the Solgavia Mountains?”

That she innately knew something was wrong would normally have put me on guard to defend our terrible secret, the one we kept from the world in order to protect them.

I considered my loyalty to the royal family of Gadlizel, knowing that breaking any confidentiality would be breaking those vows. But Murgha was my mate. Though she didn’t know it yet, she was owed my full confidence and trust. My deepest loyalty. Even above my king.

“Something I can’t quite explain. Not entirely. You felt it in the den. The source of it is stirring deep in the belly of Mount Gudrun, the tallest mountain in Solgavia.”

Sudden realization hit me. I stood and searched the skies, still seeing no scouts. It was nearly afternoon. They’d be circling this way soon enough.

Gwenda flew near my shoulder, her wings buzzing. “We cannot take her to Gadlizel. No, no, Vallon. We cannot.”

Her black eyes were glassy with unshed tears. She tended to cry when she was afraid.

“Don’t worry, my friend. I know. I agree, but we need some place safe tonight so I can figure out what to do next.”

“Why can’t we go to Gadlizel?” Murgha stood, stepping closer. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Gwenda, go to Windolek Castle. Speak to King Gollaya and get permission for us to visit him there.”

“You can’t wait here,” she trilled, her voice reaching a birdlike screech.

“We’re leaving now. We’ll not be far behind you. But you fly faster, and we need to give the wraith king warning that a shadow fae is showing up on his doorstep. I don’t want his archers to shoot us out of the sky or his dragon to eat us.”

“He has a dragon?” Her expression brightened, smile widening.

“Don’t flirt with his dragon, Gwenda. Just get there and get back to me.”

She was gone in a streak of blue into the sky heading southwest.

Finally, I turned back to Murgha, her brow creased with a deep frown.

“I thought the dark fae didn’t get along.”

“They don’t.”

“So why are we going to see the wraith king?”

“We’ve met before. He’s”—I couldn’t think how to explain—“he’s different. He may help. We helped him once when he needed it.”

I didn’t want to admit to her the true reason I knew he’d help me. Because the wraith king had a mate he cherished deeply and would empathize with my plight.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she demanded when I wouldn’t answer, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up defiantly. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you explain yourself.”

Closing the distance between us, I investigated her coat, realizing it wasn’t as good a buy as I’d thought. It fit her well, but there were no buttons to keep it closed. It was stained from the filth of that viper’s den and torn at the sleeve.

She didn’t deserve to be wrapped in another woman’s clothes or the homespun dress I found her in, too thin to keep her warm. She deserved better than this. It wasn’t what I’d planned. But I hadn’t planned to discover this fae female would be my mate either.

“The gods play tricks,” I murmured as I tried to close the now soiled and tattered coat.

“That’s not an answer,” she snapped.

Her irritation made me smile somehow. She was fiery, my little light fae. She’d need a backbone to deal with me, that was certain. And for what lay ahead, I was afraid.

I coasted my hands around her waist, pulling her close. She flattened her hands on my chest as if to stop me, but she gave me little resistance when I lowered my head and grazed my mouth along her neck below her ear.

“We aren’t going to Gadlizel because it’s dangerous for you there,” I informed her.

“How so?” she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly so that I could kiss her easier.

I smiled against her throat. “Seers have been banned from Gadlizel. The king considers them witches and will either kick them out of his kingdom or kill them.”

Her breath hitched. “They would kill me?”

I froze. That was true fear quavering in her voice, and I would not have that. I lifted my head and cupped her face with both hands. “Hear me now, Murgha. You are mine to protect. And I will kill anyone who dares to try to hurt you.”

Her furrowed brow rose. “Even your king?”

“Anyone.”

Even the prince.

The truth of it cut deep, reminding me I needed to get her out of here, and fast.

“Come. Let’s pack quickly. We have to go before the night patrol circles lower into the foothills. They patrol wider during the nighttime.”

I strode back to collect the portable pit and frowned at the rest of our breakfast spilled all over the ground. I wasn’t a very good caregiver, it seemed. Hopefully, the wraith king would be hospitable and provide the shelter we needed while I figured out what to do next. Then she could rest and eat properly. She looked worn out from the travel and the near-death experience with the nightwyrm.

“Why do they patrol lower at nighttime?” she asked.

“To protect the world from the creatures that prowl down from the mountains in the dark.”

“So the shadow fae aren’t really keeping other fae out of their mountain but protecting them from what’s in the mountain.”

“Both.”

We managed to gather our things quickly. I hooked our satchels over one arm then hoisted her into my arms. She wrapped hers around my neck easily, her expression soft and trusting.

“You’re looking at me differently,” I said.

“Differently how?”

“Than before.”

“Well,” she murmured, her gaze meeting mine, “things are different now. Aren’t they?”

“That is for certain.”

I bent my legs and beat my wings, leaping up and lifting off into the air, heading toward the setting sun.

Chapter

Fourteen

MURGHA

By the time we reached Windolek Castle, it was dark and late. Or very early.

I’d actually nodded off. The steady rhythm of his beating wings, his thumping heart beneath my cheek, and his warm embrace had lulled me to sleep. I didn’t know how long we’d been flying when I felt the jolt of Vallon landing, but there were no candles or torches burning in any windows that I could see from where we were outside the wrought iron gate.

“You awake?” he asked.

“Yes,” I murmured sleepily.

He set me gently on my feet and took my hand. Stepping up to the gate, he pushed me a little behind him.

“Are you Lord Vallon?” came a gruff voice on the other side of the gate.

“I am. The king is expecting us.”

“Is he?” I whispered.

Vallon smiled over his shoulder, the torchlight sharpening his fine features. “Gwenda met up with us while you were sleeping.”

I looked around but didn’t see her. The wood sprite had a mind of her own, coming and going as she pleased. When her best friend didn’t need her.

A door set in the gate swung open. “Follow me,” came the guard’s rough voice.

Vallon tugged me behind him. “It’s all right,” he assured me.

When we reached the interior of the castle, I gasped. Our entire village could’ve fit in the cobble-stoned bailey yard. I could see the full length of it by the line of torches leading to the castle steps beyond a set of stables for livestock.

The wraith fae in front of us had four horns and a giant build. He was no bigger than Vallon, yet he made me nervous. Most males did. Except for Vallon. How strange that was.

The wraith fae led us up the steps and inside where another guard patrolled the interior hall. He merely nodded at us and continued his vigil as we were led not into a throne room or great hall but a smaller parlor near the foot of the winding staircase.

The room was cozy with a fire burning—natural wood rather than the blue coal—several overstuffed chairs surrounding the hearth and an ornate desk set to the far side of the room, piles of parchment in neat stacks on the desk.

“Have a seat, and the king will be with you shortly,” said the guard.

He left and pulled the door shut behind him, clicking a lock from the other side.

“Oh, no.” I squeezed Vallon’s hand, realizing I was still holding it. “They’ve locked us in.”

“I expected it,” he said casually. “The king wouldn’t allow the possibility of any strangers wandering his castle with his wife and newborn child in residence.”

I let go of Vallon’s hand to step toward the fire and warm them.

“What makes you smile?” he asked, now beside me and watching me with that earnest intensity.

“I was just thinking of Princess Una. When I met her, we were at the beginning of war with the wraith fae. She was doing her best to assure the people that all would be well. No one knew, least of all her, how close to death she would come.” I shrugged, staring into the dancing flames. “And here she is, new mother and cherished mate.”

A lump suddenly formed in my throat, a stone of sadness settling in my chest.

I jumped when I felt Vallon’s hand beneath my chin, tugging it up so that I would look at him.

“That makes you sad.”

“Not for her.” I swallowed hard. “I’m so very happy for her.”

“But you fear you will never know such happiness?”

How could he see right through me, straight into my mind and divine my thoughts?

“I’m the seer, Vallon,” was all I could say.

His hand on my chin coasted gently up my jaw until he was cupping my cheek. “I see you.” He swept a thumb across my cheekbone, stroking gently. “And you have nothing to fear.”

The door clicked and opened. Vallon dropped his hand as we both turned, but I noticed he moved his body slightly in front of me. It seemed he wasn’t entirely trustful of the king. He was preparing to defend me.

I’d only ever heard stories about King Gollaya, stories of the Butcher who had conquered Lumeria and taken the Princess of Issos into captivity, forcing her to become his concubine. Some said she was disgraced for allowing it, and she should’ve killed herself instead.

I never believed that. And how wrong they all were. For now, she ruled beside the greatest king in all the realms.

King Gollaya was formidable in size; all of the dark fae were. His four horns curled back in a regal swoop along his skull, his long black hair hanging loose past his shoulders. He wore a simple black shirt, unlaced at the top and dark deerskin trousers, no armor of any kind.

His casual appearance would’ve made me rest easier if it weren’t for his penetrating gaze assessing us as we walked closer. I’d heard he had the eyes of the dragon, and so he did. Silvery-blue with a core of gold around a serpentine pupil. When he stopped in front of us, facing the firelight, they glowed with magickal luster. It was unnerving.

His magick was potent, filling up the room, making me uncomfortable. He was a zephilim, a fire wielder. And I’d heard the stories of the enemies he’d slaughtered using his god-given gift. Of what he’d done to those who’d dared to harm his queen.

“Thank you for allowing us here,” Vallon said confidently.

“I must admit I was surprised when your sprite arrived with a message that you’d taken a light fae captive.” His dragon-eyed gaze slid to me. “She doesn’t seem too upset about her captivity.”

“I’m not a captive,” I blurted, growing angry at the idea of it. Then I glanced up at Vallon. “Not anymore.”

Vallon’s unwavering gaze melted me from the inside out. I suddenly wished the wraith king hadn’t come down to meet us so quickly.

“I see,” said the king.

“King Gollaya, this is Murgha. She is…with me.”

The king’s mouth quirked on one side. “I can see that.” Then his expression turned serious. “Have a seat.”

Vallon urged me into a chair closest to the fire. He sat in the one beside it, and the king took one across from us. King Gollaya eased back, lacing his clawed fingers over his abdomen, seeming casual, though I was well aware he was a deadly dark fae.

That was why Vallon wanted to come here, I realized. To seek the king’s protection, a king who could kill with a word and a flicker of his magick. And for some reason, he trusted the king.

“Why have you come to Windolek?” he asked coolly.

“I had thought to take Murgha to my home in Gadlizel, but—” Vallon shifted forward in his chair, which wasn’t built to accommodate wings—“circumstances have changed. I want only shelter for a few days, if you’ll allow it. Then, we’ll be on our way.”

King Goll stared at Vallon with that piercing gaze. “Why won’t she be welcome in Gadlizel? It’s not because she’s a light fae, or you’d not have thought to bring her there in the first place.”

Vallon stiffened in his chair, staring evenly at the king. “I can’t tell you.”

King Goll arched a brow. “But you expect me to house you under my roof.”

“I am asking it, yes. A favor.”

“And how would King Halvar feel about this? His high priest hiding away with a moon fae?”

It puzzled me that he considered me a moon fae rather than a wood fae. All my life, I’d been a wood fae, the odd duckling, of course, but no one had even voiced aloud the shame of my birth and that I was not one of them. Not even Tessa.

“This doesn’t concern my king.”

I stared at Vallon. That wasn’t entirely true. What I’d seen in my vision would affect his people. It would affect everyone if what the gods had spoken to me was true.

Vallon’s gaze shifted from the king to me, unblinking and confident. I smiled at him, to tell him I was with him. If he wanted to lie to the wraith king, I wouldn’t deny it. The tight brackets at his mouth softened.

“I see,” said the wraith king, standing from his chair.

Vallon stood immediately as well.

“You don’t have to tell me your secrets, priest. But I won’t be the cause of a new war with the shadow fae.”

“It would never come to that,” Vallon assured him. “What I can tell you is that she would not be welcome in Gadlizel. That is the only reason. I will not put her in any danger. I only need time for a plan. And rest and refreshment for Murgha.”

King Goll’s gaze roamed over my torn and soiled coat before flicking back to Vallon. “I’d say you both need rest. My man will show you to your chambers. We’ll talk more tomorrow, priest.”

Vallon nodded. “Thank you.”

King Goll strode to the door. Vallon took my hand again and guided me behind him. “Pullo,” King Goll called to the wraith fae in the corridor.

The guard appeared young, his hair shaved along the sides of his head up to his four horns, his long hair braided into a tail down his back. “Sire.”

“Show them to the guest chamber in the north wing. The chamber maids are there now.”

So the king had already decided to give us shelter. He stopped and turned to us. “Sleep well, Vallon. And Murgha.” Then he stalked up the staircase and took a right at the landing.

The one named Pullo led us to the left at the landing. We followed in silence down a darkened corridor, lit only by wall sconces. There was activity at the end of the hallway where three wraith fae females bustled out of the room with buckets, one carrying linens.

The three paused beside us, dipping into a curtsy. They all had two horns, small and delicate compared to the males.

One of them said, “A bath is ready for the lady. And the linens are fresh for you.” She bobbed another curtsy, and then they continued on down the hall.

That’s when it hit me that only one chamber had been prepared for us. A wash of heat flushed over my skin. Vallon smiled down at me and then pulled me by the hand toward Pullo who stood at the door.

“If you should need anything in the middle of the night, don’t go wandering,” he warned. “One of the king’s Kel Klyss will be on guard.”

I frowned up at Vallon, having never heard the term. But he simply nodded. “Understood.”

Then he guided me through the door and closed it, bolting it locked behind him. That sound had my heart picking up speed, but I didn’t turn to him. Instead, I wandered into the room, taking in the opulence, deciding to avoid the obvious for a moment.

“What is Kel Klyss?” I asked, still observing the room.

The castle was old, but the furnishings were not. The four-poster bed was a monstrosity, carved with intricate ivy décor, the polish shining from the fire in the hearth. The bedding was thick and plush, a deep crimson reminding me of Vallon’s eyes.

“It is the king’s chosen warriors. Kel Klyss is demon tongue for the Culled.”

I stepped toward the fireplace. It was made of the obsidian known to come from the quarries near Silvantis, the royal city of Northgall. The only reason I knew that was because a peddler had come through our village with smaller stones of this kind, bartering to those who might want to make a fancy bowl or cup. The peddler had not had much luck as we were a poor village, but I’d spent time admiring the stones.

Standing in front of the mantel, I grazed my fingers over the carved filigree, wondering how big the stone must’ve been to carve such a piece. But then my mind went back to our conversation. “So the Culled are guards?”

“More than that. I’d say they are more like the priests of the shadow fae. A brotherhood to the king.”

“But you are disobeying your king.” I turned, finding Vallon directly behind me. “That’s not very priestly or brotherly, is it?”

“You are correct.” He stood close but didn’t touch me. “My loyalty is to you now.”

“Above your king?” I asked, incredulous.

“Above everyone and everything.”

My heart tripped faster, that now familiar buzzing beneath my skin. Still, I asked, “Why?”

His mouth tipped slightly, those red eyes coasting over my face. “I think you should get a bath and eat, then we must talk.” He nodded toward a dressing screen in the back corner.

I hadn’t really noticed, but there was candlelight coming from behind it.

“It will warm you and make you feel better after the long flight.” He urged me with a hand at my back.

I jumped, somewhat edgy now, then hurried toward the screen. I glanced over my shoulder, making sure he wasn’t following me, but he had turned to put a new log on the fire.

Interesting that since I’d met Vallon, I’d not felt this bubbly sensation of nerves in my belly. I’d been terrified by him, then wary, then enamored, and yes, even engulfed by desire. But now…I was nervous.

I was fairly positive I knew what he hadn’t admitted yet, what I felt stirring hotly in my breast. It simply couldn’t be. Could it?

Once behind the screen, my entire body sighed at the sight. The large steel tub was filled with hot water and scented oils that wafted up with the steam. I also noticed laying over a chair was a beautifully made white chemise with lace along the bodice and silk ribbon ties at the shoulders. The material was thin and lovely but completely transparent.

Thankfully, there was also a jewel-green, silk dressing gown with fine embroidery in a pattern of gold-stitched flowers. It was beautiful, but more importantly, it would cover me.

I stripped quickly and eagerly lowered into the bath, unable to keep from moaning at the pleasure of the heat on my skin.

“Here you are,” said Vallon, stepping around the screen with a plate of food. He’d undressed down to his shirt and trousers, his armor all gone.

“What are you doing!” I crossed my arms to cover my breasts and tucked my knees up higher.

He merely grinned and set the plate of berries, bread, and slices of cheese and cold ham on the little table next to the tub where the bath oils had also been set.

“Vallon! Get out of here,” I hissed.

He completely ignored me and squatted behind me at the head of the tub. “Let’s wash your hair, shall we?”

“I can do it myself.”

“But I’d like to do it.” He leaned over the edge and to the side at my shoulder to catch my gaze. I tucked my arms higher over my breasts, knowing full well he could see the lower half of my body. But his eyes were solely on mine. “Unless you don’t want me to. I’ll go away. If that’s what you truly want.”

Gooseflesh rose on my skin at his nearness, and when I opened my mouth to tell him that, yes, I wanted him to go away, I couldn’t say the words. Because I didn’t want him to go away.

“Fine,” I muttered, turning to look at my pale knees sticking out of the water.

He grunted then settled behind me again. “Scoot up a little so you can dip your head back.”

I huffed out a breath of annoyance but instantly did what he said. I could almost feel his arrogant smile, though I refused to look at him. Closing my eyes, I lowered my head, gripping the side of the tub so I wouldn’t slip all the way under while still trying to cover my breasts with one arm.

Then Vallon’s large hand gripped me by the nape and eased me down. “Relax, Murgha. I’ll take care of you.”

“Easier said than done,” I snipped.

He chuckled, but then he started to comb through my wet hair with his other hand. I whimpered at the intense pleasure. His clawed fingers coasted lightly over my scalp.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Heavenly,” I admitted.

Tessa and I had helped wash each other’s hair sometimes. It was so relaxing. Vallon’s attentions weren’t relaxing, however. They were arousing. No one had put their hands on me like this since…ever, really.

Dellyn’s attentions had been needy and clumsy. Sadly, I was glad to have even those until I realized he only considered me worthy to be his lover. Never a partner or a wife.

Vallon poured the scented oil into my hair, smelling of some flower I didn’t recognize. I wriggled my nose.

“It’s from the Windolek wildflower.” His voice was a silken caress as he worked the oil into my hair. “After your bath, I’ll show you. The moon is up and the sky clear.”

I couldn’t even murmur a word as he continued to massage the oil into my hair. Then he dipped my head gently back to wash it clean. After many minutes where I drifted in the ecstasy of his hands in my hair, I felt his mouth on my forehead.

“Get dressed,” he whispered, his voice husky, “and I’ll show you.”

When I opened my eyes, he was already gone from behind the screen, and I realized I’d gone limp and had uncovered my breasts while he’d washed my hair. I should’ve been embarrassed, but I wasn’t. For the first time, I wanted to show another male my body, see if he found it pleasing.

I hurried with the rest of my bath and used the toweling on the chair to dry off. I wrung the water out of my hair then slipped on the chemise, the material a lovely rasp against my sensitized skin. I wrapped quickly in the robe and stepped from behind the screen, carrying the plate of food with me.

Vallon stood facing the fire, his hands clasped at his back. “Did you eat?”

“Not yet.”

He turned, devouring me with his heated gaze. “Eat while I wash up.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “You can fit in that tub? You’re awfully big.”

His haughty smile returned as he walked toward me. A flush of heat crawled up my neck. I suddenly realized what he might’ve thought I meant about his large body and smaller, tight spaces.

“Don’t you worry, darling.” He cupped my face, brushing his thumbs over the slant of my cheekbones, then whispered against my lips. “I’ll fit just fine.” He swept a teasing, slow kiss against my lips then let me go and strode for the dressing screen.

Darling? I gulped hard, standing there stupidly with the plate in one hand. Finally, I sat by the fire and finger-combed my hair while nibbling on some of the fruit and cheese.

When I heard the splash of water, I tried not to imagine Vallon standing behind that screen completely naked. But I could hear the falling of water into the tub, realizing he was likely standing in the damn thing and washing his magnificent body like that.

I wondered what his broad chest looked like, his thick legs, his…everything. Sharp arousal stirred in my belly, moisture pooling between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, trying not to listen to his sigh of pleasure as he washed in the warm water.

Gods above! I was practically hypnotized by the sound of water splashing in a tub. It was absurd.

Then I heard him shuffling from behind the screen. My hand froze with a berry halfway to my mouth. He’d wrapped the bit of toweling around his waist—and that was all he wore.

He was far more beautiful than I imagined. His sculpted chest and abdomen as well as his wings glistened from dampness. His long black hair was wet and hanging loose around his shoulders. His thick, muscular legs ended at unbelievably attractive feet, claw-tipped and all. My gaze wandered back up to the bulge between his legs, pushing against the cloth.

I gulped, but my mouth was dry as he sauntered closer, his grin telling me he knew my sad state. When he reached me, he gripped me around my wrist and lifted my hand, wrapping his warm lips around the berry still idly held between my fingers. His tongue pulled the berry free, but he took his time licking my fingertips clean.

Squeezing my thighs yet again, I couldn’t prevent the moisture from coating my quim.

“Mmm.” His eyes danced as he chewed the berry. “Delicious.”

Then he let me go and sauntered through the open double doors onto the balcony. “Come, Murgha. We have much to discuss.”

Chapter

Fifteen

VALLON

Ibreathed deeply, in and out, trying to cool my boiling blood. Impossible after seeing the stark desire in Murgha’s eyes…for me. But we did have things to discuss first.

Sensing her sweet presence, the scent of wildflower and that quintessential smell that was her, I turned. “Come and see.”

She joined me, the silky robe too long for her, dragging a little on the stone balcony. “Are your feet cold?” I asked.

She shook her head. “It’s rather warm here. So different than in the mountains.”

I smiled. “Even in summer, it is cold in the Solgavians.”

Placing her hands on the stone banister, she looked out. Easing behind her, I cupped her delicate shoulders. She shivered then leaned back into me.

I pointed to the fields. “See them all.”

“They’re lovely,” she said with sincerity. “They’re blue?”

“Purple actually. The moonlight tints their color blue. Wait till you see them under the sunlight.”

“You come over these fields often?” she asked curiously.

“As High Priest, I have many duties and errands for the royal family that take me outside of Gadlizel. I like passing over these fields in summer.”

“You enjoy the beauty of nature?” She sounded disbelieving.

Squeezing her shoulder, I pressed her back against my chest and murmured against the crown of her head, “I enjoy beauty in all things.”

She went quiet after that. An awkward silence stretched between us, and yet, I could smell her arousal. My demon fae instinct was to take her, and to fulfill what was my right given to me by the gods nearly overwhelmed me into action. But I wouldn’t until she understood.

“Aren’t you going to ask?” I finally offered into the quiet.

“Ask you what?” Her voice trembled.

I smiled at her pretense. “Why I would put your welfare above everything else. A high priest of Gadlizel doesn’t switch allegiance on a whim.”

“It was your father’s dying wish. You said that vows on the deathbed are considered sacred.”

“They are. But it wouldn’t make me abandon my vows to the royal family of Gadlizel.”

“Then why are you?”

Gently, I turned her to face me, finding a myriad of emotions flitting across her face—fear, wonder, hope.

“Because you are my mate.”

There was no surprise on her face, but her eyes narrowed as she finally spoke with defiance. “That can’t be true.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re a shadow fae, and I’m a light fae half-breed. The gods would not tie us together.”

I coasted my hands to her throat, tipping her chin up with my thumbs when she tried to look away. “Are you disgusted by being with me?”

“No!” she exclaimed quickly. “It just doesn’t seem right. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does to me.”

She stared, unblinking, her violet eyes bluer under the moonlight, just like the wildflowers. Utterly enchanting. I wanted to sweep her into my arms and show her the pleasure of a mated couple. I’d only heard about it through others, the complete joy of sharing your body with a god-given mate.

I yearned for it, but she needed to accept what we were first. Because after I took her to bed and sank my fangs into her flesh and my cock into her body, she would be mine forever.

“So the gods just tell us who we must be with,” she snapped angrily. “We have no choice.”

“Perhaps the gods already know who we will choose because they’re gods,” I offered calmly. “Rather than choosing for us, they simply help us along by showing us.”

“Show us how?”

“With the marks on our hearts.” I took her wrist and placed her palm over my heart. “I feel it here,” I said, hearing my voice drop darkly. “Every time you’re near me. Even when you’re not.” I searched her face intently. “I could’ve kept my vow to my father by sending a shadow guard to watch over you. I could’ve done my duty without ever laying eyes on you.” I shook my head. “But something pulled me down out of the mountains.”

“What did?”

“You.”

I pressed my hand over the left side of her chest, engulfing half her breast. “Don’t you feel me in here?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation, her eyes wide and wild.

“Don’t you want me in here?”

“More than anything. I want you everywhere.” She closed her eyes for a second then opened them and licked her lips, her voice shaky when she added, “But I made a promise to myself. I would only give my body to one male. My husband.”

“Then marry me here under the moonlight and let me make you mine, sweet Murgha.”

She scoffed. “Marry you here?”

“Why not? Do you need witnesses?”

“No, but—” She shook her head. “Weddings take time and planning.”

“I don’t need a ceremony. The vows are between you and me and the gods. Don’t light fae marry under Lumera’s light?”

She glanced up at the moon. Lumera, the Goddess of the Moon, was the favored goddess of the moon fae.

“We do. With a handfasting and request for the Goddess of the Wood’s blessing as well.”

“Then so be it. Tell me what to say, and I will say it.”

She laughed again. “And just like that, we will be husband and wife?” Her expression was still disbelieving.

“If you will have me, Murgha,” I added softly, picking up her palm from my chest and pressing a kiss to the center of her palm. “Will you put me out of my misery and become my wife?”

Her brow puckered into a frown. “What misery?”

It was my turn to huff a laughter of disbelief. “Being near you without having you is sheer torture. Don’t you understand that?”

When I thought she would deny it, she said simply, “Yes. I understand.”

Clenching my jaw, I wrapped a hand around her waist. “Then marry me. Right now.”

She searched my face, finding only sincere honesty there, for that is all that I felt. “What about shadow fae? How do you marry?”

I dropped my head back, laughing toward the sky.

“What?”

I met her gaze, finding that intensely curious expression I adored. “It’s not as civilized as light fae mating ceremonies.” Though ours wasn’t as barbaric as the wraith fae’s either.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

Staring into those fathomless pools, I said, “The shadow fae prefer private ceremonies between only the couple. We fly high up into the Solgavia peaks and beneath the sun god Solzkin’s light, we pledge ourselves to each other.”

“With certain words?”

“Yes. But it isn’t the words that bind us.” She remained silent, waiting, so I continued. “It is the bite the male leaves on her throat.” I pointed to the base of mine to show her where. “And we consummate our binding in the open air beneath the sun.”

I waited for a look of revulsion but found the opposite. A flicker of desire darkened her eyes.

“Let’s do it your way,” she said with confidence. “Beneath Lumera’s light.” Her gaze drifted to the moon then back to me while my heart tried to pound through my ribcage and out of my chest.

“You want to marry me in the shadow fae way?” I asked to be sure I heard her correctly.

“Yes. With the blessing of Lumera’s light, we will combine our faiths of dark and light. Since we are both, the binding should be both.” She blinked nervously. “Don’t you agree?”

“I agree.”

Unable to wait a moment longer, I reached for the tie of her robe then loosened it slowly. Her hands clenched into fists at her side, but she didn’t protest. Easing the robe open, I slid it off her shoulders and let it pool on the cool stone beneath our feet.

By the gods, she was lovely. Achingly beautiful.

Her body was sweetly made. Her small breasts with tight pink peaks pressed against the sheer lace of the shift’s bodice. Her hips flared wide, which made me grunt in pleasure. It would be easier for her to take me and to bear my children.

I pulled the ribbons at her shoulders, letting the shift fall next, revealing her entirely to me. Swallowing hard, I pulled the toweling from my waist and dropped it aside. Her gaze lowered, taking me in, her mouth falling open before she squeezed her eyes shut then looked back up at me.

“How does it work?” she asked, voice quivering.

“I’ll give you my vows. Then you give me yours. That comes first.”

She nodded, so I took her small hands in mine and stepped closer, ignoring the painful erection between us.

“Murgha,” I began softly, “I pledge you my life and my heart from this day forward. I will protect you and keep you safe always. Beneath Lumera’s light, I give you my love till my dying breath.”

She stared wonderingly, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Love?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Love.”

“How can you speak of love? We only just met. You don’t even know me.”

A laugh rumbled in my chest. “I know that your kind, giving spirit will warm me on many cold nights. I know that your curious nature makes me smile. And I know that your tender, loving heart is worth cherishing. It’s worth fighting for.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “My heart began beating only for you since the moment I saw you in that inn. If that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

Tears streaked down her cheeks then fell away. I stepped back, waiting for her vows.

She licked her lips and lifted her chin, holding my gaze. “Vallon of House Hennawyn, I promise to care for you, to be faithful, and to…”—she paused, her heart in her eyes—“and to love only you from now and into the afterworld. I ask for Elska’s blessing beneath Lumera’s light to shine upon us with the gifts of marriage—enduring companionship, children if the gods wish it, and steadfast loyalty. I will never abandon you or our marriage.”

This was important to her. Her mother had essentially abandoned her husband when she’d fallen for her true father. And though the mating bond was strong enough to lure her mother into infidelity, it obviously placed a mark on my Murgha. For her mother had abandoned her as well, leaving her with a parent who wasn’t truly hers and who didn’t truly love her.

“And I will never abandon you,” I vowed.

Then I pressed my mouth to hers, sealing our vows with a tender kiss.

Chapter

Sixteen

MURGHA

The night was warm, and yet I couldn’t stop shaking, my body buzzing with anticipation and my heart about to burst at what I was doing.

I wasn’t the rash sister. Tessa was. I’d always thought through every action with careful scrutiny. But here I was, giving my entire self to a shadow fae I met two days ago. My logical mind was reeling from what I was doing, while my heart urged me forward and my soul rejoiced.

Vallon stared into my eyes, coasting his warm palms from my bare shoulders and down my arms, then he lowered himself to his knees, his wings flaring wide. I watched as he kissed and nipped across my belly to my hip, too aroused to be embarrassed.

He lowered to his haunches, his hands trailing up my thighs and around to my backside.

“Come closer,” he urged, tugging me forward.

I wasn’t entirely ignorant of the sexual act, but I didn’t quite understand what he wanted until he slid both thumbs through my thatch of curls, spread the lips of my quim and opened his warm mouth on the tight bud between.

“Ah!” I cried out, grabbing hold of his shoulder and one of his horns at the same time.

He lapped and licked, drawing out spikes of pleasure with every sweep of his long tongue.

“Vallon,” I whispered, squirming beneath the heavenly sensation.

Growling against my clitoris, which only made me moan louder, he lifted one of my legs and draped it over his shoulder, opening me wider.

“I can’t…oh, gods.” I gripped his horn tight and rocked my cunny against his mouth, writhing with the hot pleasure pouring through my body.

He held my thigh hard, keeping me balanced as he laved and sucked then tongued inside me, driving my arousal toward a spiraling peak.

I ground harder against his mouth, whimpering with the luxurious heat climbing higher, making me hotter.

“Yes, Vallon,” I hissed, feeling my climax spin higher, closer. “Just like that. Yes!”

My head dropped back, and I cried out with a shout when my orgasm burst wide, ecstasy engulfing me. While my body still hummed with pleasure, Vallon stood and lifted me by the waist.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded gruffly.

I did, feeling the broad length of his cock rub against my slick cunny. He had one arm around my waist, the other hand wrapping my nape.

“This may hurt the first time.” His breaths were coming fast, but his body was solid and strong.

“I don’t mind,” I said dreamily, still high on the sublime climax and of being claimed by my mate. “I think I’d like a little pain,” I added, not even sure where the words came from. “It will help me remember this night.”

With a rough sound, he maneuvered me until his cock was at my entrance. His crimson eyes were nearly full black, swamped by his dilated pupils, by his heady desire.

Then he sank his cock in slowly, a long purring growl vibrating in his chest. I gasped at the tight intrusion, a sharp sting as he thrust deeper, and then he was buried fully inside me.

My mouth open, I panted through the pain. He waited, watching me with those unfathomable feral eyes.

“Do you see?” he asked in that silky voice, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth. “You were made for me.” Another nip, this one sharper, then he leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “This tight cunt is mine, Murgha.”

He began to move, slowly dragging his thick cock out. I whimpered, gripping him around the shoulders.

“Your sweet quim has been waiting for me,” he growled on a deep thrust.

“Ah!”

He dragged his mouth down my throat, fisting my hair loosely and tugging my head back.

“I need to feel you to come. Need to feel you squeeze my cock.” He began to thrust deeper, harder.

I fell back, but his wings wrapped around me, holding me in place.

“I’m going to fill you up, little mate, but not until you come again.”

I might’ve marveled at how he was standing up and holding me while he thrusted so hard and deep, like I weighed nothing, but my mind was lost to the euphoric sensation of being filled by him.

He reached between us and mounded my breast, his claws lightly scraping my skin, and then he squeezed my nipple, careful not to scratch me.

“Yes,” I murmured, gripping one of his horns again. “That feels good.”

He grunted and hiked me up, his cock pulling free.

“No,” I gasped, but then he was sucking my nipple, tonguing and twirling, nipping with a little fang. “Gods, Vallon. Please!”

I rocked my soaked quim against his abdomen, needing him back inside me. In a flash, he opened his wings and spun me in his arms, setting me gently down on my feet facing the balcony.

“Hands on the banister,” he ordered. “Hold on.”

I barely had a grip before he thrust his cock all the way inside me with one pump. Again, I moaned, unsure my legs would hold me up. But Vallon gripped my fleshy hips and drove inside me with deep, grinding thrusts, lifting me onto my toes.

The wet sound of sex with each drive of his cock, my moans, his groans, and all under the open night sky dragged me into a sensory vortex.

“Please, Vallon! So close.”

He pounded faster, sliding a hand between my legs and circling my clitoris with the pad of his finger.

“Come for me, Murgha,” he growled close to my ear, his wings wrapping around us yet again. “Let me feel your pleasure squeezing my cock.”

Then I was, screaming and coming, barely feeling the pain when he sank his fangs at the curve of my neck and shoulder. The prick of his bite only made my cunny pulse harder. He growled, sucking and licking as he drove in one last time, his cock emptying deep inside me.

“Yes,” he groaned, holding me hard and grinding against my buttocks. “Mine.” His voice was no longer velvety and silky, but beastly and dark. “You are fucking mine,” he repeated, dragging his cock out to the tip and pounding in once more, still spilling his seed inside me.

I’d never felt so wonderfully used, my body throbbing with both pain and pleasure. Vallon remained buried inside me as he lapped at the wound in my neck, a low purring sound vibrating from his chest to my back.

But then, the gentle Vallon suddenly returned as he hauled my torso back against him, still deep inside me when he whispered, “I’ll never let you go, Murgha.” He nuzzled my cheek. “I’ll never abandon you.”

A wave of emotion washed through me, drawing tears from my eyes. I hadn’t known how badly I needed those words. Even more, I believed them with my whole heart to be true.

Then Vallon finally pulled from inside me, scooped me into his arms, and carried me to bed. I was already half asleep when I felt him wiping a warm cloth between my legs. When he pulled the covers over us both and curled his body behind mine, I fell immediately into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter

Seventeen

VALLON

Iwoke with a jolt. I heard nothing, saw no intruder. Nevertheless, a shadow fae was near. I felt his magick, a ghostly whisper along my skin.

Silently, I reached for my knife beside the bed, unsheathing it without making a sound. A quick scan of the room. He wasn’t in here. The curtains billowed at the open balcony door, larks chirping in the early light of morning.

I stepped cautiously outside, ready for an attack, looking toward the shadows where he’d likely hid himself with magick. But then I saw the intruder, not hiding at all.

He stood to the far left of our balcony, back straight and rigid, looking out toward the mountains, the first light of dawn shining on his golden hair. Rather than relax, I remained ready to defend should I need to.

“My prince,” I acknowledged.

He turned slowly, taking in my nakedness and my fighting stance. “My prince? So formal, Vallon. It is just us.” There was a twinge of hurt in his voice.

I didn’t answer. I was far from where I was supposed to be, sleeping in the wraith king’s castle, which was unheard of. Last I reported to him, I was on watch in the woods south of Lake Moreen, checking on my ward. Torvyn knew all about my father’s dying wish.

But now, I was miles away from our home, where I should have been. And no doubt, he could smell her on me.

He stared, his golden eyes taking everything in as always. “She’s pretty, your little ward.”

“She’s my mate,” I snapped quickly. “My wife.”

For the first time since I’d known him as a boy, a look of shock widened his eyes. “That is…unexpected.”

“Nevertheless, it is true.” Tension vibrated from my frame, and I still clenched my knife at my side.

“No one will care if the high priest takes a light fae to wife.” He glanced at the blade in my hand. “Is that why you’ve hidden away with her in King Goll’s summer castle?”

“There are other reasons I cannot bring her to Gadlizel.”

“What reasons?” As always, his question wasn’t a question. It was a command.

As high priest, I usually answered without pause. But now, I kept my mouth closed.

The sun peaked above the horizon, gilding his orange-tipped black wings, the markings of his royal line.

“Why are you threatened by me?” he asked, a frown pursing his brow. “We’re friends.”

“Are we?” I couldn’t keep the gruff tone out of my voice.

“What are you talking about? Of course, we are.”

“Torvyn, you’ve been withdrawing more and more these past many months. Even when I see you or talk to you, I feel like you’re not truly there. I fear that—” I cut off my own words, refusing to say what I believed. But Torvyn’s dawning expression said he knew.

“That I’m turning into my father.”

I nodded stiffly.

He heaved a sigh and looked out at the mountains. “I am not mad, Vallon. I’m angry and frustrated, and I’m fucking frightened.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

I’d never heard him admit the last. He was certainly speaking to me as his friend now.

“We all are,” I admitted, for the evil was waking with rapid speed and slowly bleeding out into the world.

“So that’s why you won’t bring your little wife to Gadlizel? Too close to the monster we’re fighting?”

“It isn’t that actually,” I admitted. For though it was true the evil being that lived deep in the mountain was growing in strength, I knew I could protect her. I’d flee the mountain with her at the first sign the dark one had broken through our wards.

“Then tell me, brother.”

I startled. Torvyn hadn’t used that term of affection in years. When we were boys, we would pretend we were brothers since both of us had no siblings. By all accounts, with the exception of a blood bond, we were. We’d lived through many trials together, but this past year he’d withdrawn. And that was what had me cautious about telling him.

“She is a seer,” I said flatly.

His frown deepened. “What kind?”

“A world seer.”

There were three kinds. A soul seer prophesied only for one person and their future. These seers were always attached to people of importance, usually kings or queens. God seers spoke the will of one of the gods. But a world seer saw visions that impacted all of fae kind.

“I see,” said Torvyn.

“Exactly. I won’t bring her to Gadlizel because she’d be in more danger from your father than from what lies in the belly of the mountain.”

He turned back to face the sunrise. I joined him at the banister, setting my blade on the flat of the stone railing.

“I understand your hesitance, but I need you, Vallon.”

“I’d kill anyone who tried to harm her,” I admitted, “including your father.”

He turned his head to me, observing the truth written on my face. “Then she is your god-given mate.”

“She is.”

“So we don’t tell anyone she’s a seer,” he said conspiratorially.

Suddenly, I felt as if I was speaking to my friend like we always had. He and I against the rest of the world.

“You’d hide that truth from your father in defiance of his law?”

“My father.” He snorted. “I barely recognize him from the man he once was, Vallon. You know it as well as I do.”

Yes, I did. The king was not the man I had pledged my fealty to so many years ago.

“What if she has a vision among others?” I asked. “She doesn’t have control of her magick yet.”

“Vallon, you never come to court now, and your villa is so far above Gadlizel, you might as well live in a different realm. No one will think it strange that you rarely come to court since it has always been so with you.”

“I prefer my solitude,” I said flatly.

He chuckled, a sound I hadn’t heard in a long while, but then he sobered, his golden eyes sincere when he said, “I need you, brother. I’ll protect your mate as well. I give you my solemn vow.” He held out his hand, forearm vertical. “Besides,” he added, “perhaps she was put into your life to help us all. A world seer, Vallon? It’s rather coincidental, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s the gods’ doing.”

“Then let us listen to the gods. Just because my father ignores them doesn’t mean that I do.” He opened his palm. “Take my hand. Take my oath.”

I pressed my forearm to his and clasped his hand, relief and rightness washing through me. “I accept your vow to protect my mate with your life.” I held his gaze, finding only the loyalty of my dearest friend.

“With my life,” he agreed.

I exhaled a breath with sharp relief as I clasped his shoulder with my free hand. “I’ve missed you, Torvyn.”

“I am sorry I’ve been so”—he huffed out a breath—“removed.” He glanced down and dropped my arm. “Now, as much as I enjoy standing here while you’re naked, you should probably return to your wife.”

I laughed and stepped away, taking my blade from the banister.

“When can I expect you back home?” he asked, opening his wings, readying for flight.

“Soon. We have an errand first that will take a few days. But don’t come calling for a week. Or two. Perhaps three.”

He laughed again, a warm sound that reminded me of our carefree days of youth. There was little cause for joy or laughter these days in Gadlizel. It was good to hear the lightness in his voice.

“I’ll give you a full cycle of the moon, then be ready for my visit.” He flapped his wings once and landed atop the railing. “What are you going to do about your mother? She may be in the way for all the recreation you have planned with your new bride.”

“My mother will be overjoyed and will stay well out of the way because she’s wanted grandchildren for ages.”

That suddenly struck me. The idea of children with Murgha. My heart clenched with warmth.

“Quite right,” said my friend, the Prince of Gadlizel. “See you in a month.”

Then he lifted off and sped high into the sky. I noticed a larger shadow streaking through the clouds high above us. The king’s dragon. On patrol, most likely. But with a shimmer of light, Torvyn vanished, camouflaged with the sky. The dragon might smell him on the wind, but he’d never see him.

I returned to the bedchamber to find Murgha still peacefully asleep. Her lovely face upturned toward the morning light, the covers tucked under her slender arm across her breasts, completely unaware of what had transpired. There was so much I had to tell her about Gadlizel. But not now.

I’d tell her later. Instead, I sank back under the covers behind her and pulled her warm body against mine, relishing this bliss before we had to return to the world.

Chapter

Eighteen

MURGHA

Istood beneath the solitary tree on the plain, its branches shielding me from the afternoon sun while we waited outside of Vanglosa, the main encampment of the largest clan of beast fae in Northgall.

“What if it isn’t her?” I asked nervously.

Vallon stood directly behind me, comforting hands on my shoulders. “Do you honestly believe there is more than one wood fae named Tessa mated to a beast fae?”

“You’re right.” I laughed at my own silliness. “It’s her.”

The beast fae scout who stopped us from moving farther into their encampment readily admitted there was someone matching my sister’s description and name living with her mate in Vanglosa. After scowling at Vallon and telling us to stay put, he mounted his Meer-wolf, a terrifying giant gray beast, and galloped back toward their camp.

They didn’t live in permanent stone or wood structures. Their village was made up of deer-hide tents. But the village was much larger than I’d anticipated.

Two Meer-wolves with riders emerged from Vanglosa, moving at a steady, but not hurried, clip. Neither was the scout who told us to stay where we were.

As they drew closer, I stiffened at the sight of the two beast fae males on the backs of two Meer-wolves—one a dark gray, the other was black and bigger.

I’d heard of the giant wolves who lived in Northgall. Everyone had. They were often companions of the beast fae, the only fae who could tame the mammoth wild creatures.

But it was the two beast fae riding the wolves who caught my attention. Vallon rumbled a growl and pulled me tighter against him.

“Who is that?”

“The Lord of the Beast Fae and his chief warrior.”

“Why are you all agitated?” Besides the obvious fact that they were the largest fae I’d ever laid eyes on.

“I don’t like the beast lord. He’s…difficult.”

“You’ve had dealings with him before?”

He scoffed. “Not dealings. More like received multiple warnings. He’s not friendly.”

We waited silently as they drew closer. Both of them dismounted just beyond the tree. They were both wearing only a hide skirt, demon runes tracking across their broad chests and muscular arms. Both had four, thick spiraling horns. One had silver bands at the base of his horns, the other one—the bigger one—wore gold. Their king.

The chief warrior had black hair and a cool expression, though there was a slight pinch between his brows as he studied me. His yellow eyes practically glowed in the afternoon light. His skin was a tawny brown. The beast lord’s complexion was a deeper shade of bronze, his brown hair shining with auburn highlights in the sun.

Their faces were…unusual. Their jaws were wide, sharp, and square, the noses and mouths jutting forward more than seemed natural. Their foreheads were prominent, holding the largest sets of spiraling horns I’d ever seen. And though their facial features indeed matched more beastly features than fae, I couldn’t help but think them strangely handsome. Formidable, powerful fae.

They had no wings like the shadow fae of course, but they both had long tails covered in a fine pelt, tipped with coarse hair. Actually, their bodies were covered in more hair than most fae. I tried not to stare, but it was rather impossible.

The beast lord crossed his arms, his huge biceps bulging, his tail flicking back and forth behind him.

“Lord Redvyr,” said Vallon in greeting. “Chief Bezaliel.”

“What do you want?” asked Lord Redvyr, his deep voice rough and harsh.

No niceties at all then.

“My mate wishes to see her sister who is living with your clan,” Vallon said since I couldn’t seem to get a word out of my mouth.

Lord Redvyr lifted his nose to the air and inhaled, settling his eerie orange eyes on me. He appeared like a very large cat waiting to pounce.

He grunted. “You couldn’t find one of your own, priest? Had to poach on the wood fae?”

Vallon stiffened, his hands curling tighter at my shoulders.

“The gods have bound us to each other,” I said, finally finding my voice. “He did not steal me.”

Well, at first, he did. But I decided not to mention that.

Lord Redvyr’s gaze turned back to me. He arched a superior brow. And while he appeared much less civilized than most fae, I sensed the superiority of his strength and power.

“It’s unnatural,” said the beast lord. “A tiny little wood fae mating with one of those creatures.”

I wanted to laugh, that the beast lord saw Vallon as a creature, not a fae, when most of the world saw the beast fae as the most different of our kind.

“Red,” snapped the chief, his tail now twitching with agitation.

Redvyr rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms. He then propped one hand on the fierce-looking black wolf standing beside him and the other low on his hip as he continued to study us.

“Those things need to stay on their mountain,” he told his chief.

Anger boiled up inside me at his insult. “Are you prejudiced against fae mating another not of their own kind, my lord, or do you simply hate the shadow fae?”

The beast lord’s orange eyes narrowed, his tail flicking more, then he smiled, revealing how long and sharp his canines were. “Feisty little wood fae. Maybe she is her sister.”

“She is,” said the chief. “She matches her description.”

“So my sister is living with you.” I tried to take a step forward, but Vallon’s grip tightened, keeping me close to him. “Please. You have to let me see her.”

“You can come, but he cannot,” said Redvyr.

“She goes nowhere without me.” Vallon had said very little and protested not at all until now.

Redvyr stared at Vallon, raising the hairs on my arms at the inherent threat there. Then he whistled loudly over his shoulder.

At once, another Meer-wolf, a pale gray smaller one, came trotting out of the encampment. As it drew closer, I could make out its rider, my heart racing with sheer joy.

“Tessa,” I whispered, tears pricking my eyes.

I broke free from Vallon’s hold and ran toward her. She stopped the wolf and slid off carefully, a bundle wrapped around her shoulders and waist. Then she was running toward me, laughing and crying like I was.

“Tessa!” I screamed, sprinting across the tall grass of the plain.

We collided and wrapped around each other, but just as quickly I drew back at the gurgling grunt of an infant between us.

“Oh, Murgha, let me look at you.” She cupped my cheeks, smiling through tears.

But I was staring at the child swaddled in a sling crossing one of her shoulders. “Tessa,” I panted breathlessly. “Is this babe yours?”

She was still staring at me with all the love I’d missed, but then she laughed and tugged open the cloth hiding her child.

“Saralyn, meet your Aunt Murgha.”

I peered beneath the swaddle at the most beautiful brown-skinned, dark-haired baby girl. Her eyes were wide and hazel, lashes thick and dark, the nubs of horns showing beneath her hair.

“Oh, Tessa.” I sniffed at the onslaught of emotion. “May I hold her?”

“Let’s sit down.” Tessa sat cross-legged, tugging on my arm to follow.

I did. She untied the sling from around her shoulders, lowering the sweet baby into her lap, then she lifted her gently toward me.

In utter shock and disbelief, I held the precious bundle close to my chest. “My niece,” I whispered, staring at her beautiful, little face.

She cooed back sweetly, then a tiny tail wrapped around my wrist.

“Oh!” I gasped.

Tessa laughed. “I know. Takes some getting used to. She likes to grab hold of everything with her tail.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. “So you were telling the truth in the letter you left on the inn doorstep.”

Tessa was combing a hand through my hair, a sign of her affection. “Yes.” Her voice sobered. “You thought I was forced, didn’t you?”

“I did,” I confessed. “What else was I supposed to think, Tessa? You’d gone into the woods for juniper and never returned.”

“I know, I know.” She took my free hand and squeezed. “I’m sorry.” Her gaze drifted over my shoulder. “Are you truly here with a shadow fae?”

“I am. He’s my husband.”

It was her turn to look shocked. “What!”

Smiling, I arched a brow. “Is it so hard to believe? You mated with a beast fae, after all.”

“It’s just…how in the name of the gods did that happen? How did you meet a shadow fae?”

“It’s a long story.” And a sad one, which I wasn’t ready to tell. I wanted to bask in the bliss of this moment. “I’ll tell you later.” I stared down at the sweet face peering up at me. “Right now, I want to simply hold my darling niece and hear all about your new life here.”

So Tessa told me of her adventures as mate to a beast fae, moving to new camps, enjoying a carefree kind of life. They didn’t worry about working for coin or trading with others to make it through the winter. They all worked together to provide for the clan, living harmoniously. Well, relatively so. She said there was still the same old jealousy as in any clan.

Her mate was the chief warrior I’d just met, Bezaliel. Tessa hadn’t been welcomed at first, having taken and claimed one of their finest warriors to be her own. Of course, he’d ensured everyone knew that she was now part of their clan, no matter that she was born a wood fae. It gave me hope that I’d find some harmony in my new life in Gadlizel.

I’d noted that Vallon, Bezaliel, and Redvyr had drawn closer to us, but kept far enough away to give us privacy. I’d even seen them speaking to Vallon. Since they weren’t at blows, I assumed it was somewhat civil.

I’d been stroking Saralyn along the soft tuft of hair between the nubs of her horns when a familiar buzzing caught my attention.

Gwendazelle landed on my knee, gasping with wide-eyed wonder. “Oh, look, look, my lady. A sweet, sweet baby.”

“What—?” Tessa looked frightened, about to shoo her away.

“It’s all right. She’s my friend,” I assured Tessa.

Saralyn’s eyes snapped open. She laughed and cooed, reaching her tail up to brush Gwenda’s wing.

“I love sweet babies,” Gwenda’s high-pitched voice trilled. “I can’t wait till you have one, my lady.” She blinked shyly at me.

Tessa’s expression turned serious again. “So you’ll live up in the Solgavias with him?”

“Yes.”

“Be careful.” Tessa gripped my hand again, giving it a squeeze. “Bezaliel says there’s something stirring in the mountains. Something very bad.”

If she only knew, but I’d promised Vallon we would keep my prophecy to ourselves for now. We’d see if the gods would give us more guidance.

There was a reason the gods saw fit that Vallon and I should find one another. My place was with him in Gadlizel. My purpose was greater than I could’ve ever imagined when I was with Papa in the inn.

I could help the shadow fae. All faekind. I would. I knew it down to my soul.

“I know, Tessa,” I finally answered, squeezing her hand back. “Do not worry. I am well-protected.”

My gaze slid to my left where Vallon stood, his wings flared, silhouetted against the sinking sun. My heart was full. For no matter what was in store, I knew I was exactly where the gods wanted me to be.

Epilogue

MURGHA

“You’re going to kill me,” Vallon growled, staring down at me as I took his cock deeper down my throat.

As much as I enjoyed the pleasure Vallon had given to me nightly since we’d returned to his villa above Gadlizel, I found a particular kind of joy in making him unravel. Like now.

Though I couldn’t swallow him completely, I always tried, and he appeared both tortured and enraptured by my attempts.

Moaning, I sucked him to the tip and swirled my tongue around his engorged head. His jaw clamped as he held my nape gently.

“One more time. Suck me deep.”

Smiling, I opened my mouth and relaxed my throat, allowing him to sink partially down as I breathed through my nose.

His eyes were full black as he swept his thumb over my top lip where it stretched around his cock.

“The only thing I love more than fucking this pretty mouth is fucking your sweet cunt.”

In a quick move, he pulled out of my mouth, lifted me beneath my arms, and tossed me back onto our bed. I was still wearing one of the new chemises he’d bought me—a pretty, lacy thing. But I heard it tear when he jerked the hem up hastily, curling his arms beneath my knees and spreading me wide.

His heated gaze was focused down below as he lined his cock at my entrance and sank inside me on a shuddering groan. I was slick and ready, as always.

“So wet,” he murmured against my mouth before kissing me.

I fisted my hand in his hair and tugged, knowing he liked it when I let myself go. “Some of that is from my mouth,” I teased.

A growl rumbled in his chest. “This sweet, fucking mouth.” He kissed along my jaw to my throat. “And the honey from your cunt.” He nipped at my shoulder. “I could eat you alive.”

I laughed, but then he angled and hit me deeper. “Gods, I’m coming already.”

“Yes, my love.” He hammered harder. “Let me feel you come on my cock.”

As always, his dirty mouth and perfect thrusting sent me right over the edge. I screamed, arching my neck as I came. He bent his head and sucked my nipple into his mouth. My cunny squeezed him as my climax seized my entire body.

He grunted, holding himself deep while grinding inside me. “Feels so fucking good.”

I whimpered as he sat back on his heels, his cock still inside me then he circled his thumb around my sensitive nub.

“No,” I reached down, trying to bat him away.

“Shh.” He grabbed my wrist and continued to circle my clitoris, massaging slowly. “I want another one before I fill you up.”

That feral, fiery red gaze stared hotly down at me, while I squirmed on his cock, completely in his thrall.

“I don’t think I can,” I protested, feeling completely boneless.

“Hands above your head,” he commanded. “Hold onto the headboard.”

There were small slats carved into the headboard that happened to be the perfect width for me to grasp.

“Hands up,” he ordered again more gruffly when I didn’t move. “And keep them there.”

I gripped the headboard slats, jutting my breasts upward. They caught his gaze. He groaned, reaching up one hand to pinch my nipple, rolling it between thumb and middle finger, his claws lightly scraping.

“Ah,” I cried out, my quim squeezing again, the warmth of arousal building instantly.

There was something about the gentle caress of those deadly claws on my skin that always stirred my arousal. While he pinched and twisted my tight nipples till they stung, he then dragged his claws lightly over my breasts, scraping the sensitive peaks.

“Vallon,” I whispered, rocking my hips.

“There it is.” His gaze dropped then he rolled my clitoris with the pad of his thumb, spreading the new slick over it. “More honey for me, eh, darling?”

“Stop teasing me.” I bent my knees higher and planted my feet on his chest. “Fuck me, Vallon.”

His eyes blazed wildly. He loved it when I told him what to do in bed.

He hissed as he stared down where our bodies were joined, his cock swelling bigger inside me. He grabbed my hips and did as I asked, thrusting with long, deep pumps.

“Like that?” He squeezed my hips tighter, his claws pricking my flesh. “You want a hard fucking, darling?”

“Harder,” I panted, holding on tight to the headboard. “Faster.”

“Gods, Murgha.”

Then he fucked me with the animalistic fervor I relished. I loved when he was tender, but gods save me, I loved it more when he fucked me good and hard.

“Yes!” I felt my breasts bouncing with each hard pound of his hips. “Just like that.”

He growled, his red eyes holding me captive as he drove inside me over and over. “Yes,” he groaned as my quim began to pulse with my second climax. “That’s what I wanted.” He continued pounding me even as I came, my mouth falling open on another cry. “Your sweet cunt squeezing me hard.”

Suddenly, he arched his neck, dropping his head back as he roared, pounding with one last deep thrust, holding my hips off the bed as he spilled inside me. I smiled at the glorious picture he made, releasing his seed, completely undone.

As he slowly came down from his own climax, I coasted one foot up his shoulder and flicked his pointed ear with my toe.

He finally looked down at me, grinning like the demon he was. He pressed a kiss to my ankle then took hold of both and wrapped my legs at his waist as he lowered down to me, still buried to the hilt.

While he held his weight on his forearms, I smoothed my hands over his chest, noticing the scratches I’d left last night and the—

“Oh, no.” I touched the bite mark on his bicep. “I bit you last night.”

He grinned, flashing his sharp, white fangs. “I know. I love it when you mark me up.”

“Your mother is going to think I’m a wild barbarian.”

He chuckled and swept a lock of hair away from my face, running his pad along my cheek. “My mother is overjoyed that she might live to be a grandmother. She’d all but given up.”

I smiled. I loved Vallon’s mother. Meera was a lovely older shadow fae with long silvery hair and the kindest eyes. I was shocked how quickly we’d bonded when I first came last month. She didn’t seem to care that I was a light fae or a half-breed moon and wood fae. She only cared that I was her son’s wife.

“You put a smile on his heart,” she’d told me one night while we sat by the fire. “That’s all a mother could ask for.”

I stared up at Vallon and coasted my fingers through his silky hair falling like a black curtain around my face.

“So you didn’t have lots of potential shadow fae women lining up to be the lady of House Hennawyn?”

He lowered further, his smile turning teasing. “Plenty wanted the role, but I never let them get even close.”

“Why not?”

“Because none were my mate. I knew that I was destined for a true binding, for mated bliss, for deep love.” His expression shifted more seriously as he swept a gentle kiss against my mouth.

“And you found it,” I said with confidence.

“Indeed. I have.” Another soft kiss as he ground inside me. “And how about you, Lady Murgha of House Hennawyn? Have you found that deep love and happiness?”

My pulse leaped at the tender question, for he truly needed to hear it. “I have, Vallon. With all my heart.”

We kissed tenderly for quite a long time. When his cock began to harden again, he pulled from inside me.

“Oh.” I squeezed my thighs shut as he hopped out of bed. “Where are you going?”

“Time to get dressed. We have company coming today.”

“Who?” I sat up, holding the covers to my breasts.

“The Prince of Gadlizel. He sent a messenger yesterday, giving us warning that he’d be visiting today.”

I hurried out of bed and pulled my dressing gown on. “Is it a special occasion?”

Vallon tied the lacings of his trousers then stalked toward me. “Yes.” He cupped my face. “He wants to meet his best friend’s new wife. And the seer.”

I placed my palms over the backs of his hands. “You’re sure he won’t kick me out or anything? Because of the king’s laws.”

“No one will touch you.” His voice deepened. “I promise you that.”

“There’s something else. Isn’t there?” My magick tingled, raising gooseflesh along my skin. I’d begun to recognize the signs of my magick working to tell me things.

“Yes.” He held my gaze, a crease forming between his brows. “There’s more I need to tell you. About Gadlizel.”

“I get the feeling this is something a lot more.”

He smiled. “It is.”

“Why haven’t you told me before?”

“Because I wanted you all to myself for a while. I realize now that the gods put you in my life for more than my personal happiness. Your gift…could help us.”

A wash of soothing awareness flushed over me, as if Elska herself was smoothing a hand down my hair and back. I’d known this for a while.

“Yes,” I agreed. “I believe you’re right.”

Since we’d arrived here, I’d felt the stirring of something dark deep in the mountains, the same essence I’d sensed in that nightwyrm. But there was more buried in the mountain than evil. A power emanated deep below us. Whatever it was, that was what Vallon had not yet told me about.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead then wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight against his body. “No matter what happens, Murgha, know that I love you.” He pressed his mouth to the crown of my head.

Another sweet wash of magick, the calming rush that confirmed the truths of others. Not only did I hear the words, but I knew they were true. It was the sweetest song to my heart.

“As I love you.” I closed my eyes and breathed him in, savoring the moment before we were forced to face the world and whatever danger lay ahead.

Thank you for reading KINGS AND BONES. If you’d like to read more in this fae world, pre-order THE WRAITH KING releasing September 24, 2024.

Also by Juliette Cross

THE WRAITH KING

(THE RISE OF NORTHGALL BOOK #1)

RELEASES SEPTEMBER 24, 2024

A brutal, bloody war against the ruthless Wraith King has cost the light fae more than innocent lives. Una Hartstone, Princess of Issos, learns the price the Wraith King demands to end the war once and for all. Her. In exchange for the safety of her people, she agrees to give her life—and her body—to her greatest enemy.

Gollaya Verbane is determined to fulfill his destiny and his god’s prophecy. When his seer points to the Princess of Issos as the key to the rise of the dark fae, he demands her submission. But when she finally yields, he realizes Una is much more to him than a priceless weapon.

A mystery that has haunted Una for years awakens when she is abducted and dragged back to Näkt Mir. The palace hides many dark secrets…and at least one traitor. A traitor determined to take King Goll’s throne—and all he possesses. What he doesn’t know is that Una’s magick is more powerful than he can imagine, and that Goll will burn the whole world to save her.

About Juliette

Juliette Cross is a multi-published author of fantasy, paranormal, and contemporary romance. She’s a mood reader as well as a mood writer if that wasn’t obvious by her eclectic book list. She loves lazy nights with her husband, old-fashioneds, and family gatherings. Co-hosting the podcast Smart Women Read Romance with her niece Jessen is her favorite way to connect with the romance community and find her latest book obsession.

If you’d like to follow Juliette for more book news:

Website: https://www.juliettecross.com/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/XeKIn

The Midnight Arrow

BY ZOEY DRAVEN

Marion enjoys her quiet life in the shadowed woods, selling her healing potions in the village by day and tending to her otherworldly garden by night. But then she saves a devilishly handsome Kylorr, with his powerful wings and sharp fangs, shot through with an arrow and bleeding to death one moonlit night.  Her mysterious Kylorr awakens new desires—but she fears he might be hiding dark secrets of his own…

Chapter

One

There was a dead glowfly poking out of the wrathweed hive.

The entrance hole, no bigger than a marble, was clogged up with its plump body. Outside, in the brisk night air, glowflies circled. Agitated and concerned. And if I wasn’t careful, I might get stung. And if I got stung, I’d be bedridden for two days, even with the help of wrathweed to dilute the poison of their venom.

The light in the glowfly’s body had burned out. I’d been noticing him for three nights, studying the way the cerulean blue in his translucent abdomen kept flickering.

“Let me help,” I whispered, waving my hand in front of the hive in practiced, slow motions. The glowflies darted away, though they hovered close by, their wings silent as if they waited with bated breath.

I pinched the glowfly’s large wings between my fingertips and gently pulled. His body popped from the entrance, and a stream of wrathweed glowflies wiggled themselves out in his absence.

I set him in the circle of my palm, thinking that I could grind his body into a powder once it dried out and use it in a sleeping potion for the market day. Then I sighed, the thought of a greedy tongue and loud swallow drinking his body down not sitting well with me.

I was the keeper of these glowflies—five different varieties. The only keeper of all five glowfly hives on Allavar, and there was a trust that pervaded all else, except perhaps in matters of life or death.

The wrathweed glowflies followed me to their section of the night garden, casting me in bright blue light with every hushed step on the soft green earth. I laid his body at the root of a smaller wrathweed plant and covered him in fragrant, black soil. I stared at the small lump he made as his hive mates fluttered past me, landing on the long, sturdy leaves of the plant. They shook their bodies, their blue dust covering the wrathweed, trickling to the soil beneath.

Then they flew off and went about their business…and I went about mine. Death was a natural part of this garden—an important part.

Dusting the soil off my hands, I picked up my gathering basket and walked to the fire-cup bed. The fire cup glowflies bled orange light through their bodies. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine it was the sun casting shadows over my lids—that was how brightly they burned.

“Harvest night,” I announced. “So don’t get cranky with me, you little heathens.”

A fire cup glowfly whizzed past when I pulled out my shears, an inch away from my nose, its wings brushing my eyelashes.

I huffed but strode forward. Mercifully, though the fire cup glowflies were the most aggressive of my collection, their stings did only that—sting like fire. It was the wrathweeds’ sting I needed to be wary of, though luckily, next to the shadevine glowflies, they were among the calmest of their species and didn’t spook easily.

“Let’s see how well you did this moon cycle, shall we?” I asked, crouching down by my raised beds, my knees digging into the softened ground.

Inspecting a fire cup, I touched the velvety softness of its petals. The flower was the brightest of reds, and its golden-yellow stamens gleamed from the glowflies’ magic. Streams of orange light pulsed from within the petal, like waves in a calm ocean.

“Beautiful,” I declared, grinning, just as a glowfly landed on the back of my hand. I placed my shears an inch below the flower, snipping the stem cleanly. “Well done.”

As if he understood my praise, my glowfly companion preened, letting out a small buzzing noise before darting away.

I harvested three additional fire-cup blooms, though this section of my garden was nearly full of them. I only needed three for the healing cream I would bottle and take to the market. The sale of them alone would be enough to pay for the materials to repair the eastern window of my cottage before winter. There might even be enough money left over for fabric to make a new dress, a warmer one.

It was nearing midnight when I finished tending to the garden. With the first bite of winter, the fire cups would begin to hibernate, as would their glowfly counterparts. Only the shadevine and the wrathweed would continue to produce during the snowy season. But I would need to start preserving the brightbell and the death needle before their last leaves dropped in the coming months.

Exiting my garden, I closed the squeaky waist-high gate behind me. With a lingering glance over my shoulder, I admired the myriad of colors the glowflies made as they weaved and buzzed, a vibrant and brilliant kaleidoscope of magic, like multicolored shooting stars in an inky night sky.

When I reached the gray cobblestone path that led up to the door of my cottage, I stilled, my eyes snapping to the darkened forest beyond the edge of my property.

The glowflies’ gentle humming ceased, and a chill went down my spine.

Being watched was not a new sensation. There was a reason no one dared to live in the Black Veil, the forest in which I’d made my permanent home like the crazy human fool I was, as the villagers often tsked at me on market day—Allavari, Kylorr, and Ernitians alike.

Fear was not a new feeling. I’d been afraid nearly my entire life.

But the Black Veil was the entrance to the Below. No one knew where it lay within the forest, just that the Severs roamed these woods and, occasionally, snatched a villager or two to take Below with them.

Severs had watched me before, their presence curious but ominous. I’d seen them between the trees—tall, dark, hulking shadows with their wingless bodies and bright, consuming eyes. Every single time stabbed a shard of ice deep in my belly, but I knew the barrier spell around my property would be enough to keep them away—or so the Allavari witch assured me every moon cycle when I paid her hefty price to keep it fresh and charged.

There was a Sever out in the woods right then. Watching me. I could feel it, like the touch of death trailing along my flesh. I’d never seen one up close, only in illustrations and drawings, likely meant to scare village children. But truthfully, they scared me too. They scared many.

“Peek?” I called out, my voice wavering uncertainly. “Peek, where are you?”

A dark flash appeared in the corner of my eye, and I crouched down, keeping my gaze on the forest’s edge, drawing the protection barrier’s path in my mind’s eye in reassurance.

Peek’s slinking walk was agitated, his back slightly arched, black-and-indigo fur standing on end.

“I know,” I said quietly, running my hand over his small furry head. He nuzzled into my hand even though his slitted eyes were fastened beyond the trees. He could see the Sever—I was certain of it. “Let’s go inside for the night, all right? I don’t want you out here.”

I picked him up, his warm, small body a comfort against me, despite the stiffness of his limbs. Cradling the basket of fire cups, I turned my back on the forest, keeping my walk measured, and disappeared into my cottage, shutting the door with a heavy thud and sliding the bolt into place.

I closed the shutters on the windows, sealing us inside the brightly lit space. Then I waited with bated breath…

And I only let out a sigh of relief when I heard my glowflies begin to hum again.

“He’s gone,” I said, keeping my tone bright. “Are you hungry?”

Peek let out a warbling mew.

I smiled, though I was still a little shaken. “Midnight snack it is.”

The bellow woke me.

So loud and startling that it felt like it’d been yelled directly into my ear.

My eyes flew open, and I flung back the heavy quilt, my heart racing, my mouth bone dry. After I scrambled to stand from my bed, I stood stock still, listening. I held my breath. I couldn’t hear my glowflies in the back garden, but I could hear my cauldron bubbling in a light simmer, the fragrance of the spicy fire cups permeating my small cottage, stinging my nostrils.

When I crept out to the front room, I saw Peek, fur ruffled, staring directly at the closed door.

Another bellow came, freezing the breath in my lungs. It sounded far off, echoing through the trees—certainly not as close as I thought it’d been.

“Peek, stay here,” I murmured, grabbing the shawl draped across the seat of my cauldron’s stool and wrapping it around my shoulders. My green nightdress swayed against my ankles as I shoved my feet into my worn leather boots.

The moon was full tonight, casting the forest in silver, so I didn’t take my Halo orb to light my path. I did, however, grab my dagger and a pouch of finely ground fire-cup powder.

No one knew where the entrance to the Below was after all…or what happened to you once the Severs took you there. Just that you were never seen again.

Stepping out of my cottage, I took in a deep breath and exhaled, the crisp air fogging in front of me.

The bellow came again. Male. In pain.

Hurt, I thought, biting my lip.

By what? I wondered next.

I took to the path. It was difficult to track sound in the density of the forest, but I was fairly certain he was close.

My footsteps crunched over half-frozen fallen leaves, and twigs entwined in my hair from low branches, as if warning me to stay back. I cursed myself—fool, fool, fool, I thought—even as my legs propelled me forward, deeper and deeper into the forest.

But as a healer on Allavar, though I was human, I was honor bound to help those who needed it. Bound in blood and magic. Even strangers in the Black Veil on a moonlit night. It was in the oath I’d taken, the task granted to me when I’d passed my studies all those years ago.

His agonized moans and heavy breathing led me straight to him, farther north than I’d imagined but not so far from my cottage.

Peering through the trees, I finally spied him through the foliage and brush.

A Kylorr male, I realized, my heartbeat ticking up. One I recognized. From the village on market days. Him.

My cheeks flushed hot, the memory of those mischievous pale blue eyes spearing straight through my mind.

A breeze picked up through the trees, rustling my hair forward, and I watched his nostrils flare, his wings twitching. His gaze fastened straight on me, though he couldn’t possible see me hidden in the darkness.

“I know you’re there,” came his deep voice, tinged in something darker. Pain, I realized. “I would know your scent anywhere, little witch.”

He was sitting with his back against the trunk of an ancient tree, towering high overhead, its canopy disappearing into the night.

His skin was a lighter gray—almost silver—than other Kylorr I’d seen, and his features resembled the Allavari’s sculpted elegance. High cheekbones, sharp enough to slice; a sloped nose I’d envision pressing my lips to more than once; and pointed ears that were decorated in silver piercings. His jaw held the unforgiving sharpness of a blade, and his lips were set in a small pout, his fangs just poking into his bottom lip since he sensed danger near.

The black horns that jutted from his temples curved around the crown of his head, sloping upward at the ends. His hair, silky black and long, hung below his shoulders, nearly to the middle of his back. The ends that covered his right shoulder looked wet.

Blood.

That was when I saw it.

A silver-tipped metal arrow was lodged deep in his chest. The shaft was glittering blue. A blue I recognized as trepidation made my belly lurch.

The Kylorr male had been shot with a poisoned arrow…and left to die in the Black Veil alone.

Chapter

Two

“Show yourself,” came the Kylorr’s voice, cutting through the foggy haze in my mind.

Night nettle poison. The most beautiful of blues, shimmering like a sunlit ocean, and the last color many saw before it took their life quickly.

Ignoring his words, though unknowingly obeying them, I scurried from behind the tree. The Kylorr’s eyes fastened on me, his jaw tightening. As I approached, his head tipped back against the tree he was propped up against so he could keep my gaze.

His long, finely muscled legs were sprawled out before him, and I sank down beside his right side, peering at the wound.

“There you are, little witch,” he said, his voice warm and husky, even in his pain. “I hope I didn’t wake you this night.”

“Hush and let me think,” I admonished, already running through the antidotes I had prepared. I always liked to have the antidote for night nettle in my storage chests—I just couldn’t remember if I’d sold the last of it at the prior market day. I’d been waiting for the next crop of brightbell in my garden, but they grew twice as slowly as all the rest, even with the glowflies’ magic and perseverance.

I saw the flash of his sharpening ivory fangs out of the corner of my eye. When I looked from the wound to his face, I wondered if I should be more frightened of him. He was a Kylorr, or at the very least, he had a lot of Kylorr blood in him. Their berserker natures were fearsome enough…but it was their bloodlust that had always given me greater pause.

He could drink me dry right here and right now, I thought, and no one would know. No one would hear my screams in the Black Veil.

A shudder raced down my spine, but I didn’t move away. His pale blue eyes flickered over my face, settling on my lips…then the column of my neck.

The Kylorr and the Allavari were a strange blend, but they’d nearly always lived in this place together. For centuries, their blood had mixed.

But three hundred years ago, a strong hybrid male named Veranis Sarin had begun to practice a darker form of blood magic. His followers rose to power, practicing ancient sacrificial magic and spells that the Allavari had already banned for thousands of years. And so…unease spread throughout Allavar. Kylorr and Allavari hybrids were driven out from their villages, their homes. Hatred flowed through the valleys and fear tinged the air, so acrid one could choke on it.

Or so the stories went…

By all accounts, Veranis Sarin had been a power hungry and ambitious monster. He severed his soul—and those of his followers—from the living realm to open the portal to the Below. And the Allavari had banished them there.

Severs. The name of Veranis’ followers, though innocent hybrids had been driven out with them, discriminated against for their mixed blood and nothing more.

Even now, though hybrids were commonplace in the villagers once more, there were Allavari who gave them a wide berth, who whispered under their breath when they passed.

“I may have the antidote for night nettle,” I said in a quiet rush. His gaze snapped up to mine and held. I saw his stomach dip, sucking in a sharp breath. I’d heard the pain from this particular poison was unfathomable. No wonder his pain had led me here, like a beacon in his dark forest. “But you’ll need to come with me. Can you manage it?”

“Yes,” he said. “Help me up.”

I pushed to my feet quickly, rounding to his left side so I wouldn’t jostle his wound. As I helped him to stand, he leaned into me heavily. I’d forgotten how large he was. I was tall for a human, and even then, he towered over me. His body was leanly muscled like an Allavari hunter, but I knew the Kylorr could morph into hulking beasts, given the proper stimulation. His wings hung limp, the ends dragging on the forest floor as I led him forward.

Heal him first…then ask questions, I thought. Night nettle wasn’t a common poison. It was used only by certain individuals on Allavar, individuals who most knew to steer clear from. Even if one could afford the raw ingredients, it still needed to be extracted and prepared by a practiced hand, the process taking weeks.

If someone poisoned you with night nettle…they wanted—or needed—you dead.

There was a building dread in my belly which told me what I thought I already knew. That I didn’t have the antidote, that I’d sold my last vial to a dark-eyed Ernitian who’d offered me a price I couldn’t refuse at the last market day.

The Kylorr was huffing, his breathing labored, as we trudged closer and closer to my cottage. But it was slow going. His legs seemed like they were heavy and the Black Veil didn’t make our path easy.

Every sound made my head whip to the side. Every branch blowing in the breeze or skittering of an animal’s retreat held me on edge. Whoever had done this…they couldn’t be that far away. Were they watching us, even now?

A chill went down the back of my neck, just as I felt the Kylorr’s muscles bunch tight against my arm, where I had it wrapped underneath his wings.

Glowing white eyes were watching us. A tall, winged figure, shadowed underneath the canopy of a nearby tree. A Sever? It would be the closest I’d ever been to one.

They had sharp horns like Kylorr, but they were tall like the Allavari. A black cloak billowed out from its large body. I couldn’t make out its features, but those eyes were eerie and they watched us steadily, spurring me to pick up my pace.

“Ignore him,” the Kylorr grated to me, making me shoot him a sharp, incredulous look even as my heart raced. “Don’t even look at him, little witch.”

The Sever followed us to my cottage, always staying in the darkness, never stepping foot into the moonlight. When we finally jolted over the protection spell, the safe boundary of my property, I felt like I could finally breathe.

My glowflies were quiet, the hush ominous. When we finally made it inside my cottage, I shouldered the door closed, scrambling with the lock, before the male stumbled over to a chair at my dining table. His body was laughably large for the chair, but I was concerned when I saw the sheen of sweat covering his forehead and the dulled, ashen pallor of his usually luminous skin.

Taking a deep, steadying breath to calm my shaking hands, I hurried to my storage shelves lining the left wall next to my cauldron. Pulling open drawer after drawer, my eyes sought out the familiar cerulean vial of the brightbell-infused antidote. Every drawer ratcheted up my anxiety and the abysmal sense of failure.

“You don’t have it,” he commented, almost nonchalantly, behind my turned back. “Fuck.”

Fuck, indeed, I thought. Think, Marion. There’s always a way…

Brightbell. What properties made it an antidote for night nettle?

It thickened the blood, slowing down the night nettle in the veins. And in Kylorr…

A jolt of a realization spurred me into motion, and I snagged carrowroot extract, a bottle of keeper’s bone, and dried wrathweed from last season’s harvest. It wouldn’t be perfect…but it would be something. I couldn’t sit and watch him die. No healer who had taken the oath, bound in blood and magic, would be able to do that.

I didn’t have time to extract the marrow from the keeper’s bone, so I snagged a sizeable piece out of the jar and handed it over.

“Bite through this,” I ordered him. “Get to the marrow. Quickly.”

Luckily he didn’t question me, and I turned my back on him, hearing his fangs crunch through bone. I dumped wrathweed into my mortar, grinding it down with practiced motions of my pestle before mixing it with the carrowroot extract, the liquid sizzling on contact with the fine dust. My eyes watered at the pungent smell, nausea rising in my belly.

I thickened it into a paste, thick enough that it clung to the stone pestle. Then I scurried out to the garden, not looking once into the forest to see if the Sever was still lingering nearby. I went to the wrathweed bed, to the tiny little grave I’d pressed the glowfly into earlier in the night. Rich soil stuck to its body when I unearthed it. I didn’t have time to dry it out.

“I’m sorry, little one,” I whispered, “but you just might save a life tonight.”

A life for a life. Maybe there was a reason why this glowfly had died tonight of all nights.

Keeping the cold glowfly cupped in my palm, I returned to the cottage, catching movement out of the corner of my eye. The Sever was still there. Strangely enough, his white eyes weren’t on me. They were on my garden.

Bolting the door once more, I returned to my mortar, dropping the glowfly’s lifeless body into the mix, soil and all. When I ground him into the paste, his blood shimmered blue, a dark dye against the sickening gray mixture.

Turning toward the male—whose name I didn’t even know but had imagined a thousand different ways—I set my mortar on the table, eyeing the arrow.

“You’re going to hate me for this,” I informed him, keeping my voice low and steady.

His jaw tightened. There was understanding in his gaze. He knew the arrow needed to come out.

“Do it,” he said. “I’ve had worse, I assure you.”

His lips even quirked up in a half smile, and I nearly believed him.

I didn’t know if he was lying or not—but I couldn’t imagine anything worse than an arrow covered in night nettle poison. His face was leeched of any color it had previously possessed. He looked on the verge of passing out, his wings limp around him, slumped as he was in the chair. He’d spit out the husk of the bone onto the floor, but at least the marrow would help clot his blood.

I grabbed my strongest shears. He groaned, low in his throat, when I secured them against the shaft of the arrow, jostling the wound when it clamped down. I snapped the wood, splintering it as the male flinched and the fletching dropped to the floor. It made a bright clink when it hit, and I frowned when I realized it was metal.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Trying to distract me, little witch?” he pondered, his words a little slurred.

“My name is Marion, not little witch,” I told him, sweat beginning to bead on my brow, and I shoved a wavy clump of my auburn hair away when it escaped from my braid. “Lean forward.”

The Kylorr’s leather vest creaked quietly when he did as I ordered. By some small miracle, the arrow had gone cleanly through, the arrowhead—also metal, I noted—poking out the back of his shoulder. I took my forceps, hooking them beneath the points.

“Your name,” I prompted…before I gave one mighty, swift tug—not hesitating because hesitation would only make it hurt more. The shaft was smooth, a great mercy. I’d seen barbed ones before.

The Kylorr bellowed, loud and hoarse, and I dropped the arrow, rinsing the wound with clean water before taking up my mortar.

“Face of an angel…soul of a demon wanting vengeance,” he told me, his gaze fastening with mine, though his eyes were half-lidded. “That’s what the villagers say about you, Marion.”

I froze, the words spearing straight through me like I had taken a poisoned arrow of my own. I didn’t think he’d meant to say them. He was half-delirious from night nettle.

“I’m trying to save your life, Kylorr,” I replied calmly, as if my throat wasn’t tightening. I blinked back the sting of tears. Even after all this time, the villagers still whispered behind my back. I didn’t know if they would ever accept me, the strange human who lived in the Black Veil.

“Lorik,” he rasped. “Lorik Ravael.”

I began to pack the wound with the thick paste.

Lorik Ravael. After all these months, I finally knew his name.

That name proved what I’d already suspected. He was a Kylorr…but he was also Allavari.

I’d watched this male at the market before. Everyone watched him. He had an undeniable magnetism, an unparalleled draw that few ever possessed, that few might ever experience. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was magic.

“I don’t have the soul of a demon, Lorik Ravael,” I informed him.

His mouth widened, showing teeth—razor-sharp teeth that made me breath hitch. “Never said you did, Marion.”

I continued packing the seeping wound, but the keeper’s bone marrow was doing well to stop the bleeding.

Lorik hissed, his eyes closing briefly when I put pressure on his shoulder. I was hesitant about what would come next…but I didn’t see a way around it.

Shoving my wrist in front of his face, I ordered softly, “Feed.”

Lorik’s eyes flashed open. “No,” he grated, the word surprisingly harsh and quick.

“Yes,” I said, my tone edging toward impatience. “After all this work, I’ll be very annoyed if you die on me. The keeper’s bone will thicken your blood. And luckily for you, Kylorr, you metabolize blood faster than most. But you still need more to help cleanse the poison from you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” Lorik said, making me frown.

“Even this might not save you,” I snapped. The words were harsh but honest. It hadn’t worked for Aysia, after all. “You’re wasting time. Feed.”

As if to entice him, I pressed my inner wrist to his lips, surprisingly soft and warm.

Lorik met my eyes. Pale blue and luminous, like the wrathweed glowflies.

“Very well, little witch,” came his strained, whispered words across my delicate flesh.

It happened quickly. His fangs flashed, elongating swiftly, twice in size what they had been. He bit down, greed and hunger evident in his eyes.

The pain was fleeting, giving way to something entirely unexpected as his venom flooded into my bloodstream.

My eyes widened, my knees nearly giving way with surprise. Pleasure warmed me, flowing up my wrist into my throat, my chest, my belly. Down and down, it burst in me, pooling between my thighs, making me gasp.

Lorik groaned as my blood hit him, but I didn’t think it was from pain.

No, no, no, I thought wildly. What have I done?

I might’ve just stepped unknowingly into the crosshairs of fate.

Chapter

Three

There was a half-naked and slumbering Kylorr-Allavari in my bed, the first male to ever lie within its comfortable confines.

And he was held teetering on the edge of death.

He was sweating out the poison—as he had been since midnight—and if he survived that, the infection would take hold next.

But Lorik Ravael was strong. His heart had beat steadily and proudly beneath my cool palm when I’d checked it last. The night nettle was gifting him strange nightmares, and I watched from the doorway as he moaned and thrashed, his wings twitching underneath him. His shoulder was bandaged, but I’d left the wound open for now. It needed regular cleanings, and I needed to keep it packed with fresh poultice every few hours before I stitched it.

My forearm was beginning to burn from grinding the dried wrathweed in the early morning hours, but it needed to be done. Beneath the clean, white bandage, the bite on my wrist throbbed.

Heal him first…ask questions later, I reminded myself.

But I knew from my studies, from stories, from history…that a Kylorr’s bite only triggered that kind of response in their mates. Their blood mates. Kyranas—that was what they called them in their language. Their venom reacting with their mate’s blood, creating an overwhelming cacophony of sensation, meant to bond and tether the pairing together. Often for life.

That was what history said. History. Kyrana pairings…I’d never heard of one on Allavar. Not for centuries, at least. They happened commonly on Krynn, the Kylorr’s home planet, because of their deities, because of the magic that infused that world.

But Allavar was different. The rules were different. The magic here was not the same.

I exhaled a slow breath and turned from the doorway. Looking at his face made my chest ache, as it always had. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasized about Lorik in my bed before, though I hadn’t known his name then. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t touched myself to the memory of his teasing grin and mischievous eyes, if I hadn’t fantasized about those wings wrapping around me as he—

“Enough, Marion,” I whispered, my cheeks flushing. This was improper. Having these thoughts about a half-dead, half-naked, half-Kylorr, half-Allavari male, who’d always sent a shiver down my spine. Was I intrigued? Yes. But that shiver also told me he was dangerous. There was something I couldn’t see with Lorik. Something beneath the surface that had always sent a sharp warning spearing through my belly.

And others sense it too, I thought, remembering how most villagers gave him a wide berth at the market.

I thought that, perhaps, it was because of his mixed race. Allavari magic manifesting in a Kylorr? That was an extremely dangerous and powerful thing. Veranis Sarin—or his followers—wouldn’t have been so powerful without his mixed blood, after all. And while the centuries had softened the fear of that in the villagers, it wasn’t gone. There was a reason why people still looked at Kylorr-and-Allavari couples with a lingering, disapproving stare.

Lorik was a mystery I knew better than to investigate too deeply. Even as I acknowledged that, my eyes strayed to the floor in the front room, to the bloodied remnants of the arrow that had been protruding from his chest.

Reaching down, I gathered up the broken pieces as sunlight peeked through the shutters of my windows. I turned the fletching and the arrowhead in my fingers. Silver metal. But Allavari—though renowned and talented metallurgists in all the Four Quadrants—didn’t use metal in arrows. They thought it a waste of their precious resources. Not even Allavari hunters used arrows anymore.

Sighing, I dropped the tips into an empty bowl to wash and snagged a fresh rag to clean up the memory of midnight. I heard a soft warbling, husky sound behind me and turned to see Peek emerging from beneath the kitchen counters.

“There you are,” I murmured. “That’s where you’ve been this whole time, you little coward?”

He mewed in answer, and I shook my head, reaching out to scratch behind his ears that were nearly as long as his body.

“We have a guest,” I told Peek. “So, be nice.”

My braydus’s eyes narrowed. Then he turned his head to regard the open doorway of my bedroom, his back hunching in response. In a flash, he leaped to the cottage door, pawing at it, and I let him out into the front garden.

Turning my face up to the sun, I soaked in the warm rays, even as the chilly air made me tighten my shawl around my shoulders. I was certain I looked like a mess. My nightdress was covered in black blood. Wrist bandaged. Braid askew. Deep circles under my eyes.

I smiled. The sun felt like life.

That was what Aysia always used to say. She’d woken early in the mornings to catch every last ray. At the orphanage, Correl had been hard pressed to get her back inside most days…likely why my sister’s back and legs had been covered in welts. Likely why I’d done everything I could to learn how to heal her quickly, to make her feel better so she wouldn’t cry at night.

Grief and guilt and memory made my smile fade. The sun’s warmth turned oppressive, and I retreated back into my cottage but left the door open to help air out the stink of the poultice and the fire cups still simmering in the hearth.

“Aysia, you silly lovesick darling,” I murmured to myself, missing her. Some days, it felt like an open wound, one that would never heal.

“Do you often talk to yourself, little witch?” came his voice, tired and rumbled. “Or is that the madness of the Black Veil manifesting in you?”

A little embarrassed he’d caught me, I turned slowly and said, “You should be in bed still.”

The left corner of his full mouth twitched up. “You’re not the first female to say that to me.”

He looked to be in a sorry state. Hunched over, skin shimmering with sweat, damp hair sticking to his, admittedly, impressively well-defined chest. He was a Kylorr, after all.

Leaning heavily against the doorframe of my bedroom, Lorik ran his gaze over me. His eyes settled on the bandage over my wrist, and I felt his eyes burn there like a brand. The bite throbbed, the mortifying memory of temporary insanity rising.

My face felt hot. My legs felt like they were suddenly made of stone.

He’d fed from me greedily. Roughly, even. As if he couldn’t get enough of my blood. And in return, I’d nearly come apart at my seams, moaning out my disbelief, before I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d ripped myself away, tearing the skin, making myself bleed even more.

“You didn’t let me heal you last night,” Lorik said. I felt the richness of his voice thread and weave into my body. “I don’t remember what came afterward. But I do remember that.”

He made the room feel entirely too small, even though he kept a respectable distance and he looked like a wind gust could blow him over.

There was a strain in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. I wondered what the nightmares had been.

“I’m serious, Lorik,” I said quietly. “You need to be resting.”

The mysterious male stared at me across the room, neither of us making a move.

“Why did you save me?”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You woke in the middle of the night, ventured out into the Black Veil, and risked your safety to help me. Why?” Lorik asked. “For all you know, I could be a danger to you too.”

Heart picking up speed, I asked, “Are you? A danger to me?”

Lorik didn’t reply, only lowered his sharp chin slightly. Was that an affirmative? Or because his head was growing heavy from weariness?

Much to my dismay, Lorik didn’t return to bed. He shuffled over to the chair at the table he’d been sitting in the night before, freshly cleaned of his blood though I could still smell it in the air.

“Why?” I repeated. “Because I’m a healer. It’s my duty. The oath I took under Allavari law.”

“And bound in their magic?” he wondered.

I inclined my head. “Yes.”

“Ah, so you see,” he said softly, whistling. “If you didn’t help me, knowing I needed it, you would be punished. You would feel pain if you yourself did not try to assuage it for another. Would you consider yourself a selfish person, little witch?”

I blinked, my spine straightening. Irritation rose in my chest, but I kept my face smooth. “No.”

“Liar,” he said, smiling though it looked more like a grimace on his face with the amount of discomfort he must’ve been in. “I think we’re all selfish. It’s in every being’s nature, in all the Four Quadrants, to look out for themselves and only themselves.”

“And what about family? The ones you love?” I pondered, thinking of Aysia, knowing Lorik was wrong. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t do anything in your power, even in the face of death, to help them?”

Lorik’s lips lifted and he dropped his gaze to the floor. In agreement?

“Perhaps,” I said, “I don’t share your pessimism.”

Lorik’s sudden laugh jolted me, a booming, surprising sound. He laughed too loudly, too fully. My brows furrowed listening to it, watching him, even as my shoulders relaxed, liking the sound entirely too much.

“Oh, fuck, that hurts,” he wheezed, his voice husky and strained but no less pleasing to my ears.

Peek’s warbling mew sounded from the doorway, drawn in from the commotion. Lorik’s head whipped over his shoulder, likely tugging on the wound, and I frowned, my lips parting to order him back to bed. He needed to keep his heartbeat steady, and he certainly didn’t need to be stretching his wound.

“A braydus?” Lorik said, voice wistful. “Wherever did you find it?”

My soft spot was Peek, however, as I enjoyed talking about him and hardly ever got the chance to. I found myself straying to the front doorway of my cottage, Lorik turning in his chair to regard me. I scooped up Peek, his long, soft fur tickling my arms and brushing over the bandaged bite on my wrist, the press of his body making it throb.

“In the forest,” I told Lorik. “Years ago now. He was only just born and I looked for days for the mother but couldn’t find her.”

He was staring at Peek, a strange expression on his face.

“What is it?” I asked, trying to relax the stiff braydus in my arms as the two regarded one another.

“The braydus come from the Below,” Lorik murmured. “Aren’t you worried its magic will draw Severs?”

“What are you talking about?” I questioned. “There are braydus all over these woods. They didn’t come from the Below.”

Lorik’s gaze flashed up to mine. “That’s a pure braydus you have in your arms. You can tell by the eyes.”

I looked down at Peek, his vibrant blue orbs shimmering in the sunlight.

“It came from the Below. I’m only surprised you don’t have Severs at your door nightly wanting it back,” Lorik said.

“His name is Peek,” I informed him, my tone testy, glancing back up at the mysterious male across from me, whose lips quirked. “And I don’t. I have a protection barrier placed around my property every moon cycle.”

“And you think that keeps Severs away?” Lorik questioned, his tone agonizingly smug for someone the color of dampened ash. “An Allavari witch’s spell is no match for a Sever. Surely you know that.”

“Well, it’s worked. For years,” I snapped, my shoulders going back as I let Peek back down to the floor when he began to struggle. “The Severs stay beyond the property line. Not once have they ever been able to step foot toward the cottage.”

Lorik’s eyes narrowed and his gaze dropped back to Peek, who regarded him with a hunched back from the floor, hiding behind my legs.

“Then that is your braydus’s magic, not that of an Allavari witch. You have yourself a protector,” Lorik said, his tone decided. “Lucky for you, it is Peek who keeps the Severs away.”

I laughed. “I think the infection has taken root. Do you feel feverish?”

“Don’t believe me?” he questioned, leaning heavily in the chair. His bared chest was shimmering with sweat.

“The braydus live in the Black Veil, and they have for centuries. They certainly have no magic. Peek’s only ability is to eat far more than he should, and he is particularly gifted at catching poor rodents and leaving them on the doorstep. But he certainly didn’t come from the Below”—even thinking it was laughable—“and he doesn’t keep Severs away. A very pricey monthly spell does.”

Lorik’s eyes began to glitter, but I thought it was a trick of the light. When I blinked, they returned to their blue state.

“Are you often driven by logic and intellect, Marion?” Lorik asked. “Or do you think there may be a chance that there are things in this universe even you cannot understand or expect? Things that might challenge the way you think and upheave every last thing you think you know?”

“Logically, I know there are many things in this universe I cannot begin to understand.”

Lorik laughed again, this time softer, and Peek crept closer to him, sniffing the air.

“You are a peculiar woman,” he said, watching my braydus approach him. “And if we were on Krynn, perhaps, why might you think fate chose you for me?”

I stiffened, my face going hot. The first mention to what I suspected. He knew it too.

Damn.

“What does your logic decide about that?” Lorik wanted to know, that smug smirk appearing on his face, making the room appear entirely too small again.

“That…that was a fluke,” I told him, straightening my spine, my eyes dropping to Peek as he sniffed Lorik’s boots, which I hadn’t taken off him after I’d lugged him to bed. Peek hissed and backed away slowly. “It’s possible the keeper’s bone had some sort of adverse reaction. Your fangs were coated in it, so when you bit down—”

“Shall we put it to the test again? The scientist in you would appreciate that, surely.”

The flush seemed to spread from my cheeks to just about everywhere else.

“That won’t be necessary,” I huffed. “You need to go back to bed now. You’re…you’re upsetting Peek.”

Lorik’s slow gaze dropped to my braydus and then slowly came back to meet mine. “Right. Peek. Wouldn’t want that, would we, little witch?”

He stood and returned to the bedroom. When he was out of sight, I sagged against the wall, blowing out a long, silent breath.

Lorik Ravael needed to heal…and then he needed to leave. The sooner, the better.

Before this thread between us strengthened until neither of us could untangle ourselves from it.

Chapter

Four

Lorik didn’t wake again until nightfall. He found me out in the garden, tending to my glowflies.

I didn’t sense his presence until Peek came sauntering out from the Black Veil and then immediately hissed, his eyes pinned on something behind me. Thinking it was a Sever, I stiffened…until I looked over my shoulder and found Lorik regarding me from the stone bench wedged against the back wall of my cottage.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, surprised, straightening from the garden bed, my arms covered in rich, black soil as a shadevine glowfly nearly got tangled in my wavy hair. I shook him out, getting his dust in my strands, making them gleam. Had he heard me singing to myself?

“Long enough,” Lorik grunted. He was hunched slightly, his wings looking uncomfortably squished against the wall of my home. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, though he’d slept the day away. “You’re horribly unobservant. I’ve decided you must have had Severs come onto your land—you just haven’t noticed them.”

“So you admit that Peek isn’t from the Below and doesn’t have magic that keeps Severs away?”

Lorik grumbled something under his breath, in a language that sounded familiar but new, and I grinned.

Being out in my garden always lightened my mood. The dust from the glowflies possessed calming qualities and their buzzing lulled me into a gentle trance, but it was the gardening I enjoyed the most. Tending to the plants my glowflies were growing, weeding, snipping away weak leaves that would only take more energy to heal, watering where needed.

“You’re different out here,” Lorik remarked. “This is you, little witch. In your garden where you sing, where you are free.”

The grin died from my face, even though his words filled me with a strange, fluttering warmth.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he complimented. “You were singing an Allavari poem, weren’t you?”

The Allavari poem Aysia had always liked. I’d often sing it at night at Correl’s home for the other children as they’d drifted off to sleep. I’d been the oldest there. I would tuck them all into their beds at night, and they would always want a song or a story.

The poem was about love…on its surface. That had been Aysia’s favorite part. But the last verse was a dark warning, for the Allavari girl’s lover consumed her heart like a feasting Sever, though Aysia had always thought it was interpreted as the girl giving her heart away. Romantic, she’d sighed, and I’d always bitten my tongue, not wanting to disappoint her.

Perhaps I should have, I couldn’t help but think, a prick of guilt making me stand from my kneeling position. I journeyed to the garden bed closest to Lorik, kneeling down at its side as I began to pluck away fallen leaves from the trees overhead that littered the soil.

“Severs don’t feast on hearts though,” Lorik said quietly, watching me work. “Not anymore, at least.”

“How are you feeling?” I asked, ignoring what he’d said.

“Like death itself,” he replied, though he grinned, his fangs flashing in the moonlight, making my breath hitch.

Deep down, I knew he would need to feed again and soon. I was dragging my feet, however, not wanting the confirmation of what I already feared.

Another day, I thought. Surely he could go another day. I would feed him a hearty bone broth tonight to nourish him, and then he could feed on blood tomorrow.

“You were on the brink of it,” I told him, feeling a tightening in my chest at the thought. I didn’t know if he understood how dangerous night nettle poison was.

“I’m stronger than I look, Marion.”

There was something in his voice, a muted confidence that had nothing to do with bravado and everything to do with fact, that reassured me he was telling the truth.

And the way he said my name made a warm shiver stroke down my spine.

“Who shot you with the arrow?” I asked, the question I’d been pondering since I’d found him last night finally out in the open between us.

“Perhaps I did it to myself so that a beautiful human witch would take pity on me and allow me to warm her bed,” he said, “when I have been dreaming of it for so long.”

His words brought a dizzying rush of heat to my belly.

“The arrow tip pierced all the way through your shoulder. Even with your strength as a Kylorr, even if you somehow were in your berserker state—which you weren’t—you would’ve needed a bow for that. Quite impossible to shoot yourself,” I pointed out, if only to distract from the rapid beating of my heart.

“Is that what your beloved logic tells you?” he asked. I’d looked down to the brightbell plant I was tending to—ironically, the plant that would have been the antidote to the night nettle poison had it been fully grown—but I heard the smile in his voice.

I shrugged a shoulder.

He chuffed out a small sigh. When I looked back at him, he had his face tipped back to the night sky, his eyes closed. I paused in plucking out leaves to watch him. My gaze drifted down the long, thick column of his throat, over his shoulders, one of them tightly wound in clean gauze, down the slabs of muscles lining his chest.

“Who do you think shot me with an arrow?” he asked.

“There is an Allavari who lives in the village,” I said quietly. Swallowing down my hatred and bitterness, I said, “His name is Veras.”

Lorik laughed, but there was an edge to it. “You think that useless piece of flesh managed to shoot me with a poisoned arrow?”

I frowned. “If he heard you speaking about him like that, he surely would. He’s a dangerous male. You should be more careful with your tongue.”

“I welcome him to try,” Lorik rumbled. “It would give me a reason to tear him limb from limb.”

I nearly shuddered at the bloodlust in his voice…and yet…

“You like it when I’m bloodthirsty, little witch?” he teased, his voice morphing into velvety softness. “You hate Veras. Would you like me to give you his still-beating heart? Perhaps that can be my repayment to you. For saving my life, I will give you his. I will give you one favor, Marion, and it can be whatever you want. I vow I will grant it.”

I couldn’t tell him just how much I was tempted to say yes—because there was an instinct in me that told me Lorik meant it. That this male was much, much more dangerous than Veras could ever hope to be, even with his henchmen carrying out his bidding and his manipulative pull within the village.

“Don’t,” I said quietly. “I am a healer, not an accomplice.”

“Even after what he did to your sister?”

I couldn’t contain my sharp breath. It was no secret. Lorik had obviously asked about me throughout the village—and I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“I would do anything for my sister—you were right earlier,” Lorik said, his tone turning savage and I leveled him a sharp look. “I imagine you would’ve too.”

“Then you’re not so selfish as you insisted,” I pointed out, filing away the fact that he had a sister, one I’d never seen. Did she live in the village? Where did Lorik even live?

“Did I say that?” he asked, his mood unreadable.

“You implied it.” And he knew it too.

Lorik stared at me, and then his mouth slowly drew into a grin, his teeth appearing even sharper in the moonlight. For the first time, I had the instinct to run from him. Warning bells in my mind battled with the warmth in my chest.

“A Sever shot me with the arrow.”

I jolted, gasping. “What?”

I always felt out of control with him. Even when I’d met him at the market all those months ago. He’d always made me feel like I was walking on trembling ground.

It was unsettling. Exciting. Unpredictable.

Unless he’s lying, I thought.

“But…but why?”

“How should I know?” Lorik asked, holding my gaze, his blue eyes glittering again in the silver light.

“So a Sever just…came up from the Below, tracked you down in the Black Veil in the middle of the night where you happened to be, and shot you with a poisoned, metal-tipped arrow they just happened to have prepared?”

“It would appear so,” he said.

He’s lying, I thought. Of course he was. That story was ridiculous. Severs hunted with their claws and fangs like wild beasts. Not with a bow. It still didn’t explain what Lorik had been doing in the Black Veil at midnight.

“Whatever it is that you’re involved in,” I started quietly, “don’t pull me into it. I helped you. I saved your life. I don’t need your problems spilling into mine. Veras already took the one person I loved most in this world. And if you’re involved with him, in any way, I need to know. Right now.”

Lorik held my gaze, his features sobering for a brief moment.

“I’m not involved with Veras, Marion,” Lorik told me, his voice gruff and soft. “Not now, not ever.”

My shoulders relaxed. Maybe I was a fool, but I heard truth in his voice.

“Does that mean you’ll let me stay in your bed?” he asked, the question helping to ease some of the tension that had risen between us.

I tried to hide the way my lips quirked.

“Just until you heal,” I told him. “And I’m convinced you’re free of infection.”

“Perhaps you’ll even join me there tonight,” he rasped. “I’ll keep you warm with my infected, feverish body.”

The laugh that bubbled up my throat…that one I couldn’t help.

All the amusement left Lorik’s face, and he stared at me until my laugh slowly died, until I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, grazing my cheek with soil.

“What is it?”

“You have a beautiful laugh too,” Lorik said. But gone was the teasing lilt in his voice. The words were guttural and raw and honest. An honest compliment, devoid of any expectation. I didn’t know if anyone had ever spoken to me like that before.

“Oh,” I whispered, pleased, embarrassed. “Thank you.”

“Will you sing again for me?” he asked, settling more fully against the wall, though I was concerned about the growing chill in the air and the sweat slicking his chest. He paused. “Though maybe not that poem. I’m not fond of tragic endings.”

I studied this half-Kylorr, half-Allavari male, wondering where in the world he had come from. I suddenly wanted to know everything.

“All right,” I said, thinking that with those glittering blue eyes, he could ask me to go to the Below itself and I would.

And so I sang for him. I sang as I tended to my garden, as the moon slowly rose, as my glowflies buzzed all around me, and as Peek even settled close by without hissing at our guest once.

All the while, Lorik never took his eyes off me.

Chapter

Five

Lorik hid his infection well. Better than most…until it reared its head the following night.

And it was ugly. The ugliest I’d ever seen.

“You stupid fool,” I whispered without malice, stroking a cloth I intermittently dipped in cold water across his face and down his chest.

Earlier this afternoon, he’d been burning up, his flesh nearly scorching to the touch. The only ray of hope had been the night nettle weeping out from his skin, a blue cast staining the washcloth, and requiring me to use gloves to touch him.

But there was no evidence of the poison now as he lay in my bed, thrashing restlessly in his deep sleep, his chest heaving. His long, dark hair was tangled around his sharp horns, and I’d nearly gouged my wrist trying to untangle it, so I left it be.

My back was beginning to ache from the chair I’d been situated in for nearly the entire day. I thought of how lucid and present he’d been last night, sitting in the back garden with me for seemingly hours until the chill had turned bitter.

I sang as I wiped his brow. Old Allavari songs, coupled with some human ones, ancient tales of our home planet, of Earth.

I had a few wax candles lit, infused with lovery leaves, the gentle smoke filling the air to help him breathe more easily. Shadows flickered over his sharp features, and I studied every dip and line and angle, trying to separate the Allavari from the Kylorr and failing.

There was something incredibly…other about him. I couldn’t place why.

“What is that song?” he murmured quietly without opening his eyes.

I kept my hand steady, pressing the cold cloth to his neck, though relief flowed heavy in my veins.

“A human song,” I murmured, watching his eyes flicker open.

Not a trick of the light, I thought, studying his eyes. They were glittering blue, the colors shifting in his irises, and my heart began to pick up pace in my chest.

“You know their old language? Your old language?” he corrected, his voice paper thin but no less pleasing.

“No,” I admitted, swallowing, averting my eyes from his to focus on the cloth. “I’m sure I’m jumbling the words, but I memorized how they sounded. When I was…when I was at the orphanage, Correl had an old Halo orb. I found it in the cellar and repaired it so we could access the Quadrants’ databases. And we would play music at night, from all over the universe. The children always wanted to hear Allavari lullabies or Ernitian ballads. I was one of the only humans there, so I listened to my ancestors’ songs after they fell asleep.”

Lorik listened to me speak, his chest heaving with his labored breaths.

“It sounds beautiful,” he told me. “It sounds like you know the words, that you truly feel them when you sing.”

“Sometimes I wonder if we instinctively know our ancient languages. Like the words still speak to some part of me,” I told him, my lips curling in a small smile.

“It’s a nice sentiment.”

I nodded, chancing a peek back up at his glittering eyes, wondering if I should be afraid of them.

“Very few races now live on their home planets. Language is forever changed because of it,” I said. “Especially the universal language…that’s the only one I know. It’s evolved and changed over centuries. And though it’s universal, it’s different everywhere but similar enough to communicate at the travel ports. Our language on Allavar? It’s the universal tongue, yes, but it’s also littered with old Allavari and even Kylorr languages. Ernitians have a difficult time with it, I know, when they first come here.”

“Were you born in the village?” he wondered. “In Rolara?”

“Yes,” I told him. “It’s the only place I’ve known. Were you?”

He closed his eyes briefly. “No. Not in the village.”

“But on Allavar?” I prompted.

“Yes.”

“So secretive,” I teased gently, watching his eyelids lift and a familiar expression take over his features, though it was tired. I studied the ever-changing blue of his eyes. “Keep your secrets, Lorik. I’m not sure I want to know them.”

“And what secrets do you have, I wonder?” Lorik asked, his voice a soft rasp, drifting over my skin.

That I’m afraid, I thought immediately. So very afraid. Of dying alone in the Black Veil, of never knowing true love, of never having a family of my own, of having crushing regrets as I take my last breath.

“I have nothing to hide,” I told him. “I live a quiet life, and there’s no reason to keep secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets,” he told me. “One of yours for one of mine.”

I let out a gentle laugh.

“It can be anything,” he added, sounding tired.

“Don’t you think I deserve all your secrets after tending to you all day?” I asked. “I’ve seen you at your worst. What else can you be hiding?”

Something flashed over his face, a surprisingly intense expression, especially when he still looked like he was on the threshold of death’s door.

“But I’ll play along,” I told him, if only to keep talking to him. I didn’t want to admit how worried I’d been today. He hadn’t woken once. This was the first time since last night.

“I’m waiting,” he prompted after a lengthy silence.

“I’m thinking.”

“It takes you that long to think up a secret?”

One that I can tell you, yes, I thought silently. It was actually strangely difficult.

“Have you ever stolen anything?” he asked, trying to help.

“Yes!” I said, more excitedly than I probably should’ve, and his unexpected laugh made his chest heave. “Sorry. Yes, I have.”

“And? What did you steal, little witch?”

I dipped the cloth back into the water in the basin before wringing it out.

“A bracelet,” I told him. “My sister, Aysia, always looked at this one bracelet at a shop in the village. It’s not there anymore, but back then, they had beautiful jewelry. Expensive. The owner, Merec, was a talented jeweler who imported gems from the northern islands, and he’d always smile at us when he saw us looking in the window.”

Guilt rose, as it always did. Though, I often thought of Merec fondly, I didn’t like to think of why we’d met.

“I knew him,” Lorik said. “He was a friend of my father’s. Long ago.”

I filed that information away and continued, “The Lunaer Celebration was coming up, and I had no gift for her. It was her tenth year, and I wanted the gift to be special. And all I could think of was the bracelet. So one day, I went into the shop and when Merec had his back turned, I took it.”

Lorik looked at me steadily, and I couldn’t help but give him a half smile.

“I think my sister wanted the bracelet enough to not ask too many questions. She liked pretty things. But I couldn’t sleep at night. I felt so guilty, taking something from someone who had only ever shown us kindness. So two days later, I went back to Merec and confessed what I’d done.”

“And?”

I smoothed the cloth down Lorik’s chest and felt it rumble with the spoken word. I could feel his heart beating beneath my palm, heat radiating off him, though he’d cooled significantly from earlier that afternoon.

“He told me to keep the bracelet, to let my sister have it, but that I needed to work in his shop to repay him,” I said. “For three months I worked there, sneaking away from the home when I could. But it was the favorite part of my day. I enjoyed the tidying, the stocking, hearing the little bell ring when the door opened. It was so bright in there, the sunlight came streaming in through the windows, so I made sure they were clean every day. I grew to love the sound of drills and the rotation of the polishing basket. I always imagined hundreds of jewels tumbling in there.”

I met Lorik’s eyes. His legs were too long for my bed, but at least I’d taken off his boots this time. I’d needed to strip him down to nothing to fight the fever and only kept a sheet across his groin for privacy. But the outline of him was…distracting, and I felt guilty thinking that when he was ill and in my care.

“Then one day…I came to the shop and Merec was just gone. His jewelry was packed up. His tools cleared out. He left a note for me, short but nice, saying he was leaving Rolara but nothing more. He said he was glad we were friends. He left me some money—more money than I’d ever seen—which I used when I left Correl’s. Without his generosity, I don’t know what would have happened. And that was it. I never saw or heard from him again. But I think about him every time I walk past that shop. It’s still empty. At one point, I thought I might take it over someday.”

“Why don’t you?” Lorik asked, shifting slightly in the bed, wings repositioning. He winced—the muscles, no doubt, stiff.

“You need money for that,” I told him. “Besides, I do well enough on my potions, but…I could never leave my glowflies. The Black Veil is my home.”

“Aren’t you frightened of it?”

“You’re asking for a lot of my secrets when you’ve given me none of yours,” I pointed out.

Lorik trapped my wrist under his palm, and my breathing went tight. His coloring was lighter than the average Kylorr’s, his skin a silvery tone of gray, making him appear like he was glowing…like he was otherworldly. Allavari had elf-like features and lithe, graceful silhouettes. With Lorik, it made for an interesting and overwhelming mix with the brute, winged strength of a powerful Kylorr male.

He was…magnetic. Beautiful but dangerous. I’d felt his pull long before now.

His finger stroked down my wrist, over the bandage there, and my heart sped.

“A secret?” he asked. A small smile played over his lips, despite the strain around his glittering blue eyes as they fixated on where he touched me. “I’ve thought about you far more than I should’ve these last few months, little witch.”

I jerked, my tongue twisting, uncertain how to respond to that.

“But I need to give you a better secret than that after what you shared,” he told me, his gaze flashing back up to mine. “What do you want to know?”

Too many questions to count, I couldn’t help but think, my mind racing with possibility.

“Or perhaps I will tell you another’s secret—would you like that?”

“Another’s?” I asked, frowning. “Whose?”

“Merec’s.”

I stiffened, but Lorik never stopped stroking my wrist, the rough, flat pads of his fingertips journeying beyond the edge of the bandage.

“Merec left Rolara because he, like you, was indebted to someone. He left because it was time to repay it,” Lorik told me.

“To who?” I asked, thinking what debt could possibly be so important that he’d packed up his entire life in a single night and left without a trace. People only did that when they were in trouble. Or scared. “Where did he go?”

Lorik inhaled a deep breath, smoothing his fingers down the inside of my arm, making tingles race up my spine.

“To the Below,” he answered. “His debt was to a Sever.”

Chapter

Six

“What?” I whispered, wide-eyed. And I wasn’t shocked or surprised by very much in this life. “A Sever?”

“There’s your secret,” Lorik told me. “No more this night.”

“You can’t just tell me that and say nothing else,” I argued. “How do you know this?”

“Like I said, my father was good friends with Merec. Is.”

“So, he’s…he’s alive?”

“As far as I know,” he murmured, closing his eyes again briefly.

“But it’s the Below,” I said, standing from the chair, my legs suddenly restless. Lorik’s grip fell away from my wrist. He watched me as I paced, and I noticed that Peek was curled up near the door of my bedroom. Keeping an eye on our guest? “No one survives in the Below except Severs. It’s impossible.”

A flash of something crossed his expression. Annoyance? Disappointment?

“You know nothing about what is possible and what is not, Marion. Village folk shouldn’t speak of something they know nothing about.”

The sudden change in his mood had me quieting. His tone was stern. I felt like I was being scolded.

An uncomfortable silence dropped like a heavy stone between us.

Then he said, “I want to ask you something.”

I studied him. Even lying back in the bed, half-poisoned, it felt like he still took up the majority of the room.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Are you the kind of person who believes what something seems that something is?”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted quietly.

He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Or are you the kind of person who understands there are things that cannot be understood in this world, things that are not what they seem, and that if you understood them in their entirety, you would see that you understood nothing at all?”

“Do you often speak in riddles?” I wondered.

“There are two types of beings on Allavar,” he murmured, his blue eyes glittering. Were they glowing? “Those who welcome change and those who don’t, who resist it. Which one are you, little witch?”

“You tell me,” I replied, stepping forward toward the bed. His eyes never left mine. “I left the safety of my home in the middle of the night to help a stranger, who is now sleeping in my bed. That’s certainly a change.”

“One might call that bravery,” he said. “Or foolishness.”

I jolted, annoyance beginning to build in my breast. I shot back, “Or duty.”

Lorik’s lips quirked tiredly, and he huffed out a sharp breath through his nostrils.

“From what I can see and from what I know, you’ve lived here a long time, since your sister’s death, yes? All alone in the Black Veil, where most wouldn’t even step foot. You tend to your glowflies and you keep your braydus, who you are certain never came from the Below. You go to the market every moon cycle to sell your potions and healing salves. You collect your money, and then you come back. To your cottage in the Black Veil. Alone. Where you tend to your glowflies and keep your braydus, who does in fact protect you more than you know.”

I stood, frozen, looking down at him. My heart was pounding in my chest. Out of anger? Defensiveness? Or sadness? Loneliness?

“You don’t know me at all” was all I could utter. And in the quiet of my room, it felt as pathetic as it sounded.

“Most would say you don’t like change. You live a comfortable life. A peaceful one. But is it content? Are you happy?”

I didn’t like to be criticized. And this? It felt like one big criticism of my life.

“Why do you even care?” I whispered harshly, glaring down at him. He wasn’t fazed by my ire, however.

“Because I want to know everything about you, Marion.”

My breath whooshed out of my lungs. Shock momentarily dispelled any displeasure I felt.

“I see a beautiful, empathetic, kind woman, who did leave the safety of her own home to help a stranger in the middle of the night. I see a woman who smiles at villagers in the market who don’t even deserve it. I see a woman who has overcome struggle and tragedy but has still managed to build all of this. All by herself. Who sings like an Allavari angel and who has barely slept because she’s been tending to a massive, nosy, irritating bastard who’s disrupted her life. She would say it’s her duty as a healer…but truthfully, I think it might be because she likes him too.”

My cheeks felt warm.

“I want to understand that woman,” Lorik said. “I want to know you. I have for some time.”

My mind flashed to the first time we’d met. All those moon cycles ago in the market, on a drizzly, gray day. I remembered the way my heart had stopped at that mischievous, almost secretive grin when he’d stopped at my stall.

“You never…you never…”

“Asked your name? Asked you to the tavern for an Allavari ale after you packed up your wares? Flirted with you in one of the back booths there so I could steal your kiss and then another when I walked you home?”

“Well…” I trailed off, surprised, flustered. “Yes.”

“You didn’t strike me as a woman who would welcome someone like me.”

My brows furrowed. His tone was soft. Almost…somber. Quiet in its truth.

“You assume a lot, Lorik Ravael,” I said, just as quietly. “Maybe instead of assuming, you could simply ask.”

“Yes,” Lorik said, his eyes closing for a brief moment. I thought I saw something shimmer over his skin, but when the candle’s light flickered, I knew my eyes were just playing tricks on me. “You’re right, little witch. So when I’m recovered and not sweating out poison in your bed, would you join me for an Allavari ale at Grimstone’s Tavern?”

Despite the ache in my back from tending to him the better part of the day and the annoyance in my chest from his earlier words, a small laugh escaped me.

“You don’t have to call it an Allavari ale, you know,” I pointed out. “We are in Allavar. You just call it ale.”

“Was that an answer?”

I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, suddenly shy.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I’ll join you at Grimstone’s.”

Lorik’s eyes shone. He went quiet, simply watching me, and I fidgeted under his gaze. Embarrassed but pleased with his slow perusal and observation.

“For the sake of honesty, Marion,” he warned, his tone deep and husky, “I won’t lie—I’ll likely try to steal a kiss long before Grimstone’s ever happens.”

Excitement displaced my previous annoyance. This was new. It felt…dizzying. To be wanted. To be pursued. Especially by him.

“I might even let you,” I rushed out.

The sound he made was a cross between a groan and a laugh.

Feeling flushed and uncertain, I said quickly, “You should rest now.”

“You expect me to rest after that admission?” he wanted to know.

“Yes,” I said, trying to regain some authority in my voice. He was still a patient of mine, after all. And though his fever had come down, he wasn’t out of the woods yet.

I didn’t understand it. Allavari were powerful. Kylorr too, in their own way, though they possessed no natural-born magic. He should have been able to overcome this. But he’d taken a turn for the worse today.

Something occurred to me, and I let out a small, shuddering sigh.

It had been over a day since he’d fed on my blood. Perhaps his body needed more to cleanse the remainder of the poison and fight the infection that had taken root.

Glancing down at my wrist, I eyed the bandage, before studying him.

“Are you…hungry?” I asked softly.

His blue eyes seemed to glow brighter. His jaw tightened.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“It’s not that…” he said. “It’s not that I am. I don’t need blood. Like the Kylorr, it’s only a…a perk.”

“You’re sick. I’m sorry—I should have realized,” I told him, unwrapping the bandage on my wrist. I heard him swallow hard. The edge of one of his wings twitched as I approached. “Let me help you sit up.”

With my help, Lorik maneuvered upright so he leaned against the wooden headboard of my bed. He took up nearly the entire thing.

There would be no room for me unless I was draped over him, came the stray thought.

“This…this is just a feeding,” I said slowly, meeting his eyes. I remembered the warm pleasure that had taken hold before. I didn’t know if I’d be able to look at another Kylorr’s fangs the same again.

His lips quirked, no doubt trying to bring some lightness and levity to the tension strumming tightly between us. “Like my medicine?”

My grin felt too wide on my face, too flustered by the sudden pounding in my breast and the way the healing wound on my wrist began to throb.

“Yes, exactly,” I told him, raising my wrist and sitting down. The pads of Lorik’s fingers, the heat and caress of them, made me shiver when he took it. He brushed his thumb over the vein, and my breath hitched in anticipation.

Perched on the edge of my bed, I was close enough to him to see the sudden swirling in his eyes. Was that a common trait in Kylorr-Allavari?

Our gaze connected and held. This close, I could smell the sharpness of the night nettle, but underneath that, I smelled crushed silver leaves and willowroot moss—earthy but crisp.

He smelled like the Black Veil at dawn.

His fangs elongated. They ran over the vein he’d traced with his thumb.

Then he bit down.

Chapter

Seven

His choked groan made my eyes close as his venom flooded the bite.

At first it felt like I was floating. A pleasant buzz, a gentle lightness spreading through my limbs, down and up my spine, prickling my scalp, and making my legs twitch. My breathing got heavy, but I tried to keep still. I felt a tugging pull on my wrist, felt the suction on my flesh.

I bit my lip as warmth began to spread. Like an ink bottle spilling, the arousal pooled slowly, inching outward, little by little until I felt it cover me completely. It absorbed itself into my skin and then spilled between my thighs. Every pull at my wrist made it grow. Every tug made me swallow, and I bit my lip.

Perhaps it’s for the best he’s not a full-blooded Kylorr, I thought to myself, dazed, that he has Allavari blood running in his veins.

Kyranas, they’d called them. Long ago. A Kylorr’s fated mate, tied to them by blood and pleasure. Every feeding brought ecstasy. But the days of kyranas for hybrids were long past, at least on Allavar. Once the Kylorr and Allavari blood had mixed, once the Severs had gone to the Below, there had been no reports of kyranas. They were growing rarer and rarer beyond Krynn’s—the Kylorr’s home planet—borders.

But in its place, there was this. A gentler version of what a kyrana feeding had been…only these were much more common, or so I’d heard. I’d been fed from once before, but that had been with Aysia…there had been nothing remotely sexual about it.

But this…

With Lorik, it was completely and utterly different.

He huffed out a sharp breath through his nostrils. The heat spread over my wrist, and I shifted in place on the bed. His back hunched even more, dragging me closer until he was gripping my shoulder with one hand, the other pressed into my forearm, holding me in place. As if afraid I’d back away.

Magic flowed over my sensitive skin. It prickled at my scalp, making me gasp. He was powerful, I realized. More so than I’d first thought. His Allavari magic was tangible—I’d never quite felt anything like it before.

I breathed in deeply, scenting the lovery leaves from the wax candle, heady and earthy. I let that scent ground me, keep me focused as Lorik fed.

I didn’t know how long it went on. It felt both endless and quick. When Lorik dislodged his fangs from my wrist, he did so with a gruff groan, as if loath to leave me. Those blue eyes flashed up to mine, glowing more brightly than I’d seen.

“What are you?” I whispered, brow furrowing, voice sounding far away.

Lorik pressed his lips to my wound, making my own part in wanting. When he pulled away, the fang marks were gone. As if the feeding had never happened in the first place. Erased. Except I would never be able to forget it.

“You don’t want to know, little witch,” he replied.

When he let go of my wrist, I pulled away, standing from the bed. I tried to get hold of myself, going to the candle burning on the side table, scraping a piece of wax with the edge of my fingernail that had pooled onto the wood.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said, his voice soft. “We don’t believe in kyranas.”

I closed my eyes.

“Surely you know that,” he finished.

“I know,” I said, though my voice sounded harsh, a little defensive.

“The days of blood mates are long past. The gods and goddesses of Krynn do not look after Allavar, nor its people. That’s not to say…”

I turned back to him. Despite his sorry state, despite the infection that was heating his body from the inside out, I would’ve had to be blind to ignore the curved outline of his erection against my sheets. He brought a knee up when he noticed my straying gaze, and I bit my lip, my hands fluttering at my sides, unsure what to do with them.

“That’s not to say what?” I asked, scrambling for words.

He blew out a rough breath. “That’s not to say that there are not remnants of it that linger like stardust in the air. Allavar is a strange place. This land is infused with magic that beings from all over the universe have tried to study, to capture, to quantify. And that is only in the Above.”

I swallowed hard. “What…what does that have to do with kyranas?”

“Nothing and everything,” he replied, the corner of his lip quirking. His riddles again. “Maybe it’s magic why you call to me. Why I would know your scent anywhere. Why your blood tastes like ambrosia. Why I’m craving it even now after I’ve gotten my fill.”

I stared at him in surprise, his gentle words like a song that threaded musically through my ears, down my throat, and fluttered in my belly.

“I don’t know if my ancestors knew what they were doing, mating with the Allavari. What that bloodline would create. Even still, the Allavari blood tames those berserker rages and the strength a Kylorr would get from a kyranas’ blood. Those baser, primal parts of ourselves are tempered with magic, not fed. Kylorr of old could have razed down an entire city on the blood of their kyrana. Me?” His smile returned, easy but tired. “I only wish to listen to your voice and let it lull me back to sleep, though I am sated on your blood. Does that make you feel better, little witch?”

No.

“A little,” I said. Mindlessly, I scraped at more wax on the table. “There are some Kylorr in Rolara who still believe in kyranas.”

“And who am I to dissuade them?” Lorik asked. “But a kyrana pairing has not been reported in Allavar in nearly three hundred years, when the portal to the Below was reopened. They can believe what they want. Me? I think it’s more romantic to choose your mate, not have one be chosen for you. What do you think?”

I chuckled, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. The tingling sensation was beginning to ebb, and I felt more grounded, my heart beginning to steady.

“So when you feed on blood normally…” I trailed off. “It feels like that?”

Lorik’s gaze burned. “I didn’t say that.”

Oh.

“It’s like attraction,” he said. “A Kylorr will like the taste of someone and not another. You?” He blew out a rough breath, his leg shifting underneath the sheet. “I like your blood very, very much, Marion. We fit one another in that way. It’s natural. It’s not uncommon, but no, it doesn’t happen every time. I’ve only experienced it once before.”

“A lover?” I asked before I thought better of it.

He smiled, watching me. His teeth seemed sharper in the low light, but I couldn’t find it in me to be afraid.

“Yes.”

I nodded.

“Have you ever been fed from before?” he wanted to know.

“Once,” I told him. “My sister, Aysia.”

His brow furrowed. “Was she sick?”

I knew why he was asking. It wasn’t common practice to feed on a family member unless the circumstances were dire.

“She was dying. It…it didn’t save her,” I said quietly.

His wings twitched. “I’m sorry, Marion.”

“It was a long time ago,” I told him. Ten years. “And it’s not a secret. She wasn’t my sister by blood. Only in…” My soul, my heart. “Only in every way it actually mattered.”

“What happened to her?” Lorik asked. I continued to scrape my nail across the wood, though no more wax remained. “I’ve heard rumors, but…you never truly know.”

“She fell in love,” I told him, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

“With…Veras?”

I nodded, hating that name. Hating that Allavari male and his slick smile with every fiber of my being. The hate had never dulled. Not a single bit.

“Yes. And it got her killed,” I told him. “I’m a healer, and I couldn’t save her.”

Chapter

Eight

Iwoke with a crick in my neck, but the heavy blanket from my bed draped over my shoulders. It took me a moment to gain my bearings—I was sitting in the chair I’d been perched in the majority of yesterday with a stiff back. Morning light streamed across an empty bed from the window behind me.

Lorik.

I stood, noticing the coverlet had been replaced and was smoothed. Not a single sound came from within my cottage, and I walked to the door, peering into the kitchen, finding it empty.

The fire in the hearth was burning, though, keeping the chill of wintry air away. Soon, all of Allavar would be covered in snow.

“Lorik?” I called out, thinking he might be in the washroom, only to receive no response. I frowned.

When I opened the door to my cottage, tugging on my soft boots and grabbing a shawl to wrap around my shoulders from where it hung off the back of the chair, I stepped onto the cobbled path and peered around.

Surely he didn’t simply leave without saying goodbye, I thought, a dull disappointment throbbing in my chest, though I should’ve been happy to have my bed back.

Sighing, I went around the side of the cottage…

Only to find Lorik standing in the middle of my garden, peering at the glowfly hives.

He was glorious in sunlight. I couldn’t help but admire him. His wings were completely stretched out as if he was warming them in the morning sun. I could see the veins in the dark gray membranes. They resembled roots of a plant, of a tree, decorating his wings.

He was bare-chested, I realized, likely because I had yet to wash his shirt and vest, still covered in blood. I felt a pang of guilt at the thought, hurried back inside to snag the coverlet from the bed, and returned.

I was certain he’d heard me before, but this time he turned to greet me. I was pleased to note that he looked significantly better this morning—more akin to the confident, mischievous male I’d admired in the market.

His eyes looked bright though they were no longer swirling with color. His skin was luminous—an Allavari trait I’d always envied—and his straight, dark hair was gleaming. The fresh bandage on his wound was clean, no signs of bleeding after I’d stitched it the morning before when he’d slept.

Maybe all he needed was another feeding, I couldn’t help but think. Could I have prevented his suffering yesterday?

“Good morning,” I greeted, a little shy. I held up the blanket, and Lorik frowned at it before understanding crossed his face.

“Worried about me, little witch?”

Had his cheeks darkened slightly? Despite his teasing words, he turned and folded his wings against his back. I stared at the suede-like flesh covering the thick bones of them. Though Aysia had been part Kylorr, she’d taken more of the Allavari blood of her mother. She hadn’t had wings, nor had any of the children at Correl’s orphanage.

With the exception of a Kylorr female I’d stitched up six years ago, this was the closest I’d ever been to wings.

“You can touch them if you’d like,” came Lorik’s voice. His tone gruff and husky, dipped down like a lover’s in bed. I hadn’t been with a male in years—hadn’t touched or stroked or kissed or laughed with one in bed in years—and I’d never felt the stretch of time more than right then.

Without agonizing over whether this was appropriate or not, I reached out my fingertips before I could second guess myself. He’d given me permission…and I was endlessly curious.

Lorik shivered when the heat of my fingers stroked down the membrane of one wing. The skin was surprisingly soft until it met the hard bone of the skeletal structure. I could feel the tiny veins running beneath it, just as I could see them in the sun.

“Are you sensitive here?” I asked. Lorik huffed out a deep breath. I realized belatedly that my voice was as low as his had been. This moment felt entirely too intimate, and I swallowed as I let my hand lower.

“Yes,” he replied. That was all he would say, and I hurriedly draped the coverlet over his shoulders, standing on my tiptoes to reach them. Wrapped around his wings, the coverlet made a ridiculous shape, but when he faced me again, I wrapped the front together, tucking it tight.

I could feel him watching me as I fussed over him. Did he like it when I fussed over him?

“I’ll have your clothes washed today,” I told him, grasping for something to say, chancing a peek up at him. His blue eyes were swirling again.

“If you wanted me naked, Marion, you only had to ask,” he said. “We can burn my clothes instead if you wish. I won’t complain.”

“Be serious,” I chided though I felt my lips quirking at the edges. When the coverlet was secure and I was satisfied he wouldn’t freeze in the chilly morning air, I stepped back. Only he snatched my wrist, quicker than I could blink—frighteningly fast—and kept me against him. Pulled me even closer. “Lorik.”

“You’ve given me your blanket—what’s going to keep you warm besides me?” he wondered, tucking me into his side like I belonged there. His skin was so hot against me I was worried he was feverish again. “I’m fine. I run hotter than most,” he told me, as if reading my mind.

“What…what are you doing out here this early?” I asked, letting him warm me. He’d tucked the coverlet around me so I didn’t have anywhere to turn…but it felt wonderful. The heat of him contrasted with the icy air across my cheeks. I wondered if he’d bathed already because he smelled clean and fresh, no lingerings of poison or infection.

He would leave soon, I knew. There would be no reason for him to stay.

“Tell me about the glowflies,” he murmured, nudging his chin toward the five nearly hidden hives on the outskirts of the garden. Each hive was situated close to their favored plant. “A peculiar hobby. An incredibly dangerous one.”

“You saw them,” I pointed out. “You were out here a couple nights ago with me.”

“Yes,” he said, “but I knew better than to get too close.”

“Afraid of glowflies?” I asked, my tone teasing. I felt relaxed against him. This newness, this unpredictability when it came to him was exciting. Exhilarating. I wondered if he’d steal a kiss while he had me close.

I was so used to being alone…and I was used to Allavari men. Most were too proper that it bordered on being cold. Most didn’t show their feelings and very rarely acted on them. Allavari, like the Kylorr, were raised to show little emotion. To never let anyone see you struggle because that was not the Allavari way.

“Terrified,” Lorik responded, and I heard the smile in his voice without looking up at him.

Most Allavari men would certainly never admit to being scared of anything after plastering a woman against them. That was what I’d always liked about Lorik. He was unpredictable. Even in the market, when others looked at him with half-hidden wariness. Confident in himself, he didn’t seem to care what others thought of him or how a certain action would be perceived.

“You have a braydus as a companion and glowflies as your garden keepers,” Lorik said, his tone wistful. He shook his head, his good arm sliding down my spine, before he hooked a hand around my waist.

My cheeks warmed, and I grinned, trying to hide it beneath the curtain of my hair when I ducked my head.

“Are you sure you aren’t from the Below after all?” he wondered.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Glowflies, like your braydus, were once native to the Below,” he told me. “How do you think they have all their magic? They are literally bound in it.”

I looked up at him. “You sure know a lot about the Below and all its creatures.”

“Oh, I’m an expert.”

“I’ve never heard that before,” I told him. “Glowflies are rare, yes. But I managed to collect all of them from across the Black Veil, re-homing them here. I chose this place to build my cottage because there was already a wrathweed hive lodged in the trunk of that tree there and a patch of the stuff growing wild.”

I gestured to the tall river tree on the west of the property. I’d dug out the hive and moved it years ago, but the hollow in the trunk remained.

“Peek likes to lie in there sometimes. His little hideaway,” I told Lorik.

Lorik waved his bad arm—making him wince—toward the cottage, toward the bench he’d been sitting on a couple nights ago.

“Your braydus has been watching my every move,” he informed me.

Sure enough, Peek was sitting on the bench, staring right at Lorik, his long tail curled around his legs. His ears were straight up in the air. Though Peek had slept in the bedroom last night, he’d always been on alert—a stranger in his domain, no doubt, making him uneasy.

“He’s keeping the Severs away, remember?” I teased.

Lorik’s jaw tightened. He looked back to the hives, evenly spaced around the night garden. “Wrathweed. Fire cup. Brightbell?”

He looked to me in confirmation as he gestured. I nodded.

“Death needle. Which makes that one the shadevine hive,” Lorik continued, looking at the pitch black teardrop-shaped mass on the edge of the garden. At night, it glowed silver from within.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Wherever did you find that one?” he asked.

Shadevines were the rarest of the glowflies.

“It was easy,” I told him. “Utterly by chance, I suppose. I was out in the forest collecting lovery leaves for my candles. Before I knew it, night had fallen. But there was a cave nearby, and it was glowing silver in the dark. I saw the shadevines creeping along the rock. I knew there must be a hive inside. I went back the next day when they were asleep and started the transfer.”

“Is the cave still there?” he wondered.

“Yes, but there was only one hive in the cave. I haven’t come across another in the five years I’ve had this one.”

“Shadevine queens are immortal,” he said softly. “You’d think there would be more since that’s the case.”

There was something in the tone of his voice that had me quieting.

“Yes, but many queens were captured to try to replicate that immortality,” I said carefully.

The Rolara villagers knew I kept glowflies or at least suspected I did. The antidotes and some of my potions couldn’t be possible without them. There were others who kept glowflies. The Healers’ Guild, for instance, kept a patch of land on the northern edge of the Black Veil and tended to it in shifts based off the season. I was the only one who had shadevines, as far as I knew. But I had never been selfish. Any request from the guild for shadevine blooms, I’d honored.

“Why are you asking about the shadevine hive?”

I’d had three trespassers on my land in the ten years I’d lived in the Black Veil. All of them had come for the glowflies. Foolishly, they’d all come at night, when the glowflies were active, and they’d been stung dozens of times each, every hive swarming as if they knew they needed to protect themselves as a single unit. The village witch’s barrier spell only worked on Severs, apparently. Not thieves.

One thief had died. I’d heard about it in the village the next day. Wrathweed stings were poisonous. To be stung thrice without an antidote was certain death. Since then, not a single soul had tried to take the hives.

I didn’t know if the thieves had wanted the shadevines or if they’d wanted the hearts of the hives—where most of the magic was concentrated and was thus most valuable. Likely, they’d wanted both.

“Curiosity,” Lorik answered me.

“Many have tried to take them,” I informed him, keeping my tone level. “None have succeeded.”

“That’s apparent,” he replied. “They trust their keepers alone. You must have a pure soul, Marion.”

I cocked my head to the side. He was still radiating heat. I felt the rumble of his voice against me, the vibration of it sinking into my skin.

He was…something. Something I couldn’t see. I knew that as certainly as I knew I should stay away from him.

So why was I pressing closer, pleased with his compliment? Maybe I’d been much too starved for affection and intimacy. Maybe I missed the heat and weight of a male against me. Maybe just one little taste of Lorik would be enough.

But I was a healer first and foremost. I couldn’t forget that. I needed to see him well…and then afterward?

Maybe afterward I could explore whatever this was. Maybe afterward, I could go to Grimstone’s with him and drink ale and kiss him in a back booth.

I wanted to uncover all his secrets…even if I feared what I would find.

Chapter

Nine

Lorik was watching me, lounging against one of the largest river trees on my property. His broad back was to the trunk, and he had one knee brought up, his bad arm resting against it. Similar in position to how I’d found him in the Black Veil three nights ago.

“Stop,” I said, though I was trying to hide my smile as I dumped the bedding into the basin.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently. He’d chosen that tree to relax against because it was closest to the washing tub I had outside—a wide, hollowed-out tree trunk that I believed had been struck by lightning once. It was a perfect depth to let bedding soak in.

After Lorik’s infection had passed, the sheets and the coverlet needed a desperate wash. But the afternoon was fading, the sun already beginning to lower in the sky, so I wanted to take advantage before the night chill set in.

“Stop looking at me,” I replied. “Stop smiling.”

He grinned in response.

“I like looking at you,” he told me. “Why does it bother you?”

“Because…because…” I trailed off, uncertain how to respond. It sounded ridiculous, even to my own ears. But how could I tell him that every time he looked at me, I felt consumed? How could I tell him that he made me nervous, shy, and elated all at once?

“Because you’re not used to it,” he murmured. “You live out here, alone. My beautiful little witch in the woods. You need to be appreciated. You need to be touched. I think you need to be loved.”

I stopped mixing the soapy water in the trunk to look at him in surprise.

He smirked. “You need a lover, Marion.”

“Are you volunteering for the job?” I asked, flustered but quirking a brow with more confidence than I felt.

I’d meant it as a tease, but Lorik said, “Yes.”

The word was soft in its seriousness.

“Humans can be so strange about sex,” he added. “Even if they grew up on Allavar.”

“And I would argue that Allavari are even more strange about it. Private,” I told him, looking back down at the basin. “Don’t you think? You’re part Allavari, aren’t you?”

“Once,” he replied, his tone breezy.

“You always say things like that,” I pointed out. “Things that never make sense and are only meant to confuse.”

“Maybe I want to keep you guessing,” he said. “Keep the mystery alive.”

“Oh, it’s well and alive, Lorik Ravael.”

“Maybe I’m boring. Maybe I’m quite dull to be around when I’m not suffering from a botched poisoning.”

A poisoning you won’t tell me much about, I thought silently.

“I want to know what you look like unleashed.”

Unable to keep the small gasp from escaping, I darted my gaze up at him again.

“Maybe that’s the once Kylorr in me though,” he added. “So yes, I think you don’t like when I look at you like this…because I’m looking at you in a very particular way, Marion. I always have, haven’t I?”

A memory from the market rose. Of Lorik leaning against the wall of the local apothecary shop, arms crossed over his chest. I’d caught him looking at me, but instead of being embarrassed, he’d tilted his chin up, that familiar sinful, flirtatious smile spreading across his lips. I’d been too shocked, too flustered, too excited that I’d looked away quickly.

Had that been an invitation?

Of course it’d been, you daft fool, I thought. But what had I done? I’d avoided his gaze, sold the last of my potions, packed up my supplies, and fled back to the Black Veil. Because it was familiar. It was safe.

Ever since Aysia, I’d never wanted to be in love. Love made a fool out of anyone it touched. It addled your brain; it was addicting like a drug.

More often than not, it left you brokenhearted. Or…dead.

“Tell me a secret, little witch,” he murmured in the sudden quiet. I couldn’t hear the birds or the wind or the scampering of Peek as he tried to catch a ground critter.

“You frighten me,” I told him.

He grinned again, but this time his teeth seemed sharper and his eyes gleamed in the lowering sunlight. With his sharp, proud features, he looked every bit the arrogant Allavari noble. Allavari were snobbish about bloodlines. I wondered about his…because he wasn’t a commoner—that was for certain.

“It’s probably best that I do,” he answered.

A lengthy silence passed after those words. I didn’t understand him. One moment he was telling me he wanted to see me unleashed…the next it felt like he was trying to warn me away.

The soapy water was icy in the basin, and I squeezed my fists together to get the blood flowing before I needed to start scrubbing the sheets.

“Here,” he murmured. “Allow me.”

I frowned, watching as he maneuvered himself toward me, all languid grace for someone so tall and large. When he reached the basin, he spread his palm across the surface of the water.

“What are you…?” I trailed off, my lips parting when I saw steam rise from the surface and an unseen current underwater jostle the fabric. “Lorik! Save your energy. This doesn’t matter.”

“It’s a small thing,” he replied, taking back his hand though the sheets continued to move in the basin. “Now your hands won’t be cold.”

And I realized it was a small thing for him. I’d…I’d never seen…

It had hardly phased him.

“You wouldn’t let me wash the sheets. You nearly took my head off when I asked,” he rasped, meeting my eyes. “At least allow me to warm the water for you and lessen the work.”

“I’ve never seen anyone channel their magic so quickly,” I commented, my hands hovering above the water as I knelt beside the hollow trunk. “That kind of magic is…”

Lorik leveled me a careful look. “The Allavari have lost their way. They’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Forgotten that magic is as natural as the air we breathe,” he told me. “This land is special, every layer of it. It’s alive. Even you have magic, Marion. It’s grown in you since you were born on Allavar. You pull it up from the ground you stand on, you fill your lungs with it in the sunlight, and you feel it drift over your skin like a silk sheet when you sleep.”

My lips parted. “I’m human. I don’t have magic. Not like the Allavari. I certainly can’t do”—I gestured to the basin—“that.”

“But you can keep all five species of glowflies successfully and befriend a braydus. Those are magical creatures, and they recognize that magic in you. Have you ever thought it strange that they allow you so close?”

“There are people in the Healers’ Guild who keep glowflies,” I pointed out. “And I’m certainly not the first to have a braydus as a companion.”

Right?

Lorik went quiet as he studied me. Finally, he said, “Think what you wish, Marion. You say I can channel magic better than anyone you’ve seen? That’s because I understand that magic is an extension of myself, that it is rooted as deeply in me as I am in it. I understand there is balance in it. I don’t fight that. That’s something the Above world has also forgotten.”

The Above world?

“Taking without reciprocation only depletes magic. It needs to be refueled. Did you know that your cottage, your land has more magic than I’ve felt in the Black Veil? Than I’ve ever felt in Rolara?”

“Is that really true?”

He inclined his head. “Because you’ve allowed magic to bloom here—the glowflies being a large part of that. You tend to them, they produce for you. A symbiotic relationship. And you don’t expect more than they can give. A beautiful balance. You’ve done well here, Marion.”

That compliment was perhaps more flattering than any I’d heard from him. Even beyond the warmth I’d felt when he’d called me beautiful.

“Thank you,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”

His lips curled in a gentle smile. “There’s nothing to thank me for. It’s merely the truth.”

The sheets were still swirling in the basin, the water so hot it was practically simmering. I wondered how much effort that had taken him, when he should’ve been channeling every last scrap of energy into resting and healing. He was much better than he’d been yesterday, obviously. But I didn’t want him to take another sudden turn.

I was just about to ask him when he wanted to feed next, the question perched on the edge of my tongue, when his head snapped toward the Black Veil, his pointed ears twitching, the muscles in his chest bunching.

“What is it?” I asked, slight trepidation in my tone. “A Sever?”

“Too early for the veil to lift,” he murmured, his tone distracted. “But someone is nearing. I can feel them.”

Lorik stood in a graceful rise, silent despite his bulk. His wings unfurled, stretching in the late sun. I stayed kneeling at the basin, eyeing the property line, where the protection spell had been placed. But now…doubt had begun to creep in my mind. Was Lorik right? Was the spell even real? Or was it Peek? The protection spell certainly hadn’t helped against the thieves…only the Severs.

We heard a pair of men approach my cottage, and with dread and bitterness building in my gut, I realized who it was.

Veras.

The Allavari crime lord parading himself around as a noble.

Veras, who my sister had fallen in love with. The head-over-heels, insane kind of love, where nothing else had mattered to her except him.

Veras, who’d ultimately gotten Aysia killed.

Chapter

Ten

“How dare you show your face here,” I said quietly, not moving from my position at the basin, staring at Veras from across the clearing. “Again. I warned you once before.”

Veras was a handsome full-blooded Allavari male. His skin gleamed, not a blemish or scar marring his face. His silky, pin-straight hair tumbled down his back in a silver waterfall, the tips of his sharp ears poking out on both sides of his head. His lavender-colored irises might’ve been mesmerizing if I didn’t want to tear them from his skull.

He was dressed in impeccable Allavari silk, stitched with delicate metal beads which made a vine pattern. His pants were creased cleanly, his boots shining, though I delighted that a scuff of mud covered the toe. Veras would hate that if he noticed—appearance was everything for someone like him.

When I saw the beautiful wreath of goldwood blooms and lakelight leaves, bound and entwined in a silver ring decorated with blue jewels, my mood only darkened. My sister’s favorites. I knew why he was here.

“If you had let me bury her at my estate, Marion, I wouldn’t need to trek all the way out to the Black Veil,” he returned, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. But Veras wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking at Lorik, who’d stepped in front of me.

Veras had one of his guards with him. A burly Ernitian-Kylorr male from the looks of him, all muscle and mass, with a pair of giant wings tucked against his back.

“Lorik Ravael,” Veras purred. “You were the last person I expected to see here. Actually, I take that back. We are in the Black Veil, after all.”

I cut a look to Lorik, but his eyes were only narrowed on the intruder. His arms came across his chest. His bare chest, I realized, and I saw Veras note that too.

Veras looked back to me and said, “Ignore me, Marion. I’m just passing through.”

“You can’t just come here whenever you wish,” I told him, finally standing so he wouldn’t see me kneeling any longer. I rounded Lorik, my pace quick toward Veras. “Enough of this charade already. It’s been ten years.”

Veras smiled at me. “I don’t do this to torment you, Marion, despite what you think. I commissioned the wreath. The lakelight leaves are beautiful this time of year, and I know Aysia always thought so.”

“Don’t you dare,” I said quietly.

Veras went still. I saw his jaw tick. Up close, I noticed lines beginning to form around his mouth and eyes—lines I’d never noticed before.

“Ten years is a long time, yes,” he said. “But it would take more than a lifetime for me to forget your sister.”

“What would your newest lover think about that?” I wondered. His guard stepped closer to me, but then Lorik was there, pushing him back. The guard had nearly fifty pounds of bulk on Lorik, but there was something about his expression that told me Lorik would win any fight he started. Something unseen, especially given how quickly he could channel magic—a skill I hadn’t seen even in the highest of Allavari.

Veras held up his free hand, and his guard stepped away.

“We’re just passing through,” Veras said again, but this time, his lavender eyes were pinned on Lorik. “We don’t want trouble.”

“Neither did she,” I couldn’t help but bite back.

Veras’s gaze shuttered. His chin tilted back, and I saw the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed.

“I only want to make the offering, Marion,” he finally said, his voice steeling. His tone was clipped. Final. “Nothing more.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lorik regard me. Waiting for what I would say? I couldn’t help but remember his offer to me. That all I had to do was ask and he’d give me whatever I asked of him in repayment for helping him.

In the beginning of their relationship, I’d never liked Veras. But I thought that had had more to do with Aysia and me than him. He was a dangerous Allavari male with more than questionable morals. But Aysia had loved him, and that was the only reason I allowed him to make his offerings on my land…where she was buried.

“A Sever will take it anyway,” I said, looking down at the wreath.

“One might. But they know better to stay down Below where they belong. Despite what you think, I’ve always looked after you, Marion. Aysia would want that,” Veras said. “Some advice? Stay away from this one.”

He swept a hand toward Lorik. A warning growl rose up from the Kylorr-Allavari male, a sound I’d never heard from him before.

Veras continued, “You think I’m bad? You should look at the company you keep.”

I stiffened. “Leave. And never come back.”

“Not before I give my offering,” he growled. “How long will it take for you to understand that we are bound, Marion? Bound by Aysia? I will never abandon her, just as you never will. How many times have I expressed my regret and grief over what happened? When will it be enough for you? You think I’m the villain in this, and that’s true…but you will never be able to forgive. And it will eat at you for the rest of your days. Despite what you think, I don’t want that.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. Fury and disbelief and grief and sadness and bitterness swarmed within me until I was rooted into place. Frozen. Unable to move.

Lorik moved for me. He stepped forward, eye to eye with Veras, blocking me from view with the expanse of his wings.

“She asked you to leave. So leave…before blood is spilled at her feet in payment. I am not bound by the laws of the Allavari, remember?”

There was a dangerous edge in Lorik’s voice that nearly had me shuddering. Dark and deep, the words left no room for response. Even the guard Veras had brought with him flinched back.

Veras didn’t speak. He stepped around Lorik and placed the wreath at my feet, his jaw tight, his movements stiff.

“Make the offering yourself, Marion,” Veras murmured. “They were her favorite. You know that.”

I had half a mind to rip up the wreath into a million tiny pieces…but his words kept ringing through my mind: But you will never be able to forgive. And it will eat at you for the rest of your days.

Was he right? Would I hold this hatred and bitterness with me until the day I left this life? Would I carry the resentment and grief into the next life?

I didn’t want that, I realized as I stared at the wreath at my feet. I didn’t want that at all.

“She died a terrible death because of you. I don’t know if I can forgive you, Veras. Ever,” I said quietly. Lorik turned. I felt the heat of his hand come around my waist. Veras paused on the pathway, looking back at me over his shoulder. “I loved her more than anything in this world.”

“What you don’t understand, Marion,” he replied, “is that I did too. We have that in common, at the very least.”

I choked out a huffed sigh, feeling tears burn the backs of my eyes…and I didn’t want him to see me cry. Not then, not ever.

Thankfully, he turned, his guard trailing him, and he was gone a moment later. Only then could I breathe again.

Chapter

Eleven

“Marion.”

I started at the voice, turning to regard Lorik, who stood on the edge of the clearing. My sister’s grave was a few stones’ throw away from my cottage, beyond the protection spell’s barrier but shielded by a circle of giant river trees with thick, velvety leaves. Through the thick boughs, I could spy the golden light pouring from my cottage windows and realized it was night already.

How long had I been standing here?

Veras had purchased the white, thick columns and the decorative headstone, etched in the finest of silver Allavari metals. I had refused initially, but like always, he never cared what I wanted. He’d done it anyway. Her shrine. There was even a little pedestal for an offering. I usually placed bright, fragrant sprigs of whatever forest flowers I found during my foraging or a few biscuits, mixed with currants and nuts, that I’d baked that day.

It was a beautiful grave, even I had to admit it. More than I’d ever be able to afford for her. Aysia had liked that about Veras. That he’d spoiled her because she’d grown up with nothing except stolen bracelets and lashings when she’d stayed outside too late. He had given her the world, laid it at her feet like he’d laid the wreath at mine.

“Such sad eyes, little witch,” Lorik commented, his tone gentle.

He stepped toward me, his blue orbs even more vibrant in the darkness. It always seemed to me that he grew stronger in the dark. His footsteps were sure, his back straight, his wings flared. He looked normal. Healthy, even, despite the bandage on his shoulder, one I’d forgotten to check and poultice this afternoon.

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I lost track of time.”

“Don’t apologize to me when you have nothing to be sorry for,” he said firmly. His eyes strayed down to what I was holding in my hands. “Do you want me to destroy that? Bury it far away? Set it on fire, perhaps? Fly it up to the Massadian Mountains and drop it off the cliff?”

Confused, I looked down and saw I was still holding on to Veras’s wreath. I choked out a small, disbelieving laugh, surprised by the suggestions though they helped cut through the daze I’d found myself in.

“No, no,” I finally said, giving him a small, shy smile. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll make the offering, just as Veras wanted.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

“He’s right,” I said quietly. My mind had been racing ever since he’d left. It had never stopped. I felt drained. I felt…strangely at peace. “She would have loved this wreath. She loved nature. She loved being in nature, being outside. She would collect lakelight leaves when they turned color this time of year and make a crown of them. She did that every single year and then hung them to dry so she’d be able to look at their color until the next season. I still have them somewhere—all these dried crowns she wove, likely crumbled to dust in a chest.”

“It’s all right to be angry at him, Marion,” Lorik told me. “I don’t know the specifics, but I heard about what happened in Rolara—villagers talk. He was careless. He didn’t protect her when he should have.”

“I’ve been angry for so long,” I whispered. “I’m tired of it.”

Lorik’s hand came to the middle of my back, and I pressed myself into him without a moment’s hesitation. He slid it down until it curled around my hip.

“Do you find it difficult to forgive those who have hurt you?” he asked. His tone was careful, evenly measured. The question struck me as earnest, almost solemn.

“Yes,” I confessed. Lorik blew out a sharp breath. “I try so hard not to hurt other people. I’m careful with my words, I consider their feelings in everything I do, even at the cost to me sometimes. So when other people hurt me, nothing feels worse.”

“Being hurt is a natural part of life, Marion,” he informed me. “The Kylorr have a saying—from blood, you overcome. You need to be cut deeply in order to be strong.”

“And that’s where I’m weakest, I think,” I told him. “I’m a healer because I didn’t like to see Aysia cry at night when Correl would punish her. I’m a healer because my nature is not to harm but to heal. So why can’t I heal myself?”

“Oh, my love,” Lorik said, his tone gruff. And I realized I liked that term of endearment entirely too much coming off his lips. “There’s a part of me that just wants to keep you shielded from every dark thing in this world. Even me.”

Looking up at him in surprise, I saw something flicker over his face. A shimmering.

“But that would be a lie. That would be a disservice to you,” he continued. “If you were mine, I’d want to protect you without keeping you caged to keep you safe. Perhaps Veras was trying to do the same with Aysia. Only he didn’t protect her enough. Would you have rather he kept her tucked away in his estate? So not even a splinter could have pricked her?”

“No, of course not,” I said quietly, sighing. “But it was much more than a splinter that killed her.”

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive him?” Lorik wondered, his eyes shifting to Aysia’s grave. Moonlight speared the headstone, and the metal shimmered and gleamed. How could I have let so much time get away from me?

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know that I can’t do this anymore. Every time I see him, every time I hear his name in the village, I get so angry. And it affects me. Like today—I’ve been standing here for hours, and I didn’t even realize it. This hatred is taking away my life, and I don’t want to let it anymore.

“So I don’t know if I can forgive him, but I’ve decided I’m going to try to move on from the past. Because he’s right…I know he did love her. Deeply. He made her very happy, even though the end was tumultuous between us. I can’t just erase that. She chose him. I can accept that. And we have our love for her in common, and so he will always be part of my life, no matter how much I wish he wasn’t.”

“I think that’s a good start,” Lorik murmured.

“It’s the only thing I can think to do anymore,” I said. Sighing, I dusted off dirt and shriveled, wrinkled leaves from the pedestal and lay the wreath on top. It must have cost Veras more than I made at the market in three months.

Lorik’s warm hand never left my waist. I shivered when a breeze wound through my hair and turned into him. My emotions were a little raw tonight, but it was nice to have someone near. To be able to lean on someone else, allow them to be my pillar, when I’d never had anyone like that before.

“You have a pure soul, Marion,” Lorik told me gently as he led me from the clearing. “I told you earlier—kind and gentle. There are not many like you in the world, especially here on Allavar. You’re as rare as the creatures you so lovingly keep.”

“But?” I asked, hearing that unspoken word in his voice.

His smile was a half one, not quite reaching his eyes as they scanned the darkness of the Black Veil.

“I’m worried that someone like me isn’t good for someone like you,” he confessed. “I worry for the day when you look at me like you look at Veras.”

I stilled. I hadn’t expected the vulnerability I heard in his gruff tone.

I wasn’t a fool. I knew there was a lot lurking beneath the surface of Lorik Ravael. Unspoken, dangerous truths. Even Veras’s guard had been afraid of him. The barbed words edged in warning from Veras told me that even he knew something I didn’t.

There was a suspicion nagging in my mind, but it was too ridiculous to even voice. That Lorik had dealings with the Severs, which was forbidden. Anyone who came across Severs were never seen or heard from again.

Like Merec? I wondered, remembering what Lorik had told me about the old shopkeeper.

“What did Veras mean?” I asked quietly. Lorik’s hand tightened on my waist. “When he said he wasn’t surprised to see you in the Black Veil?”

“I hunt in the forest sometimes,” Lorik replied.

“You two know one another?”

“Not in the way you suspect, little witch,” he replied, cutting me a sharp glance out of the corner of his eye. “We’ve encountered one another in the village at times, nothing more. I didn’t lie to you about my dealings with him. I truly have none.”

“He seems to hold a strong opinion about you,” I commented.

“Most do.”

“And why is that?”

Lorik stilled on the path before turning to face me. We lingered inside the line of trees that wound around my cottage, just outside the protection barrier spell.

“Because most Allavari don’t trust what they don’t understand,” Lorik told me. “And most of them do not understand me. They don’t understand why I don’t kiss the ass of every noble I encounter, why I don’t involve myself with their celebrations and affairs, why I don’t live in Rolara, why they never see me with a lover, a friend, or family. To them, I am other. I always have been and I always will be. It’s not my duty to make them understand me. I simply couldn’t care less.”

My gaze dropped to his lips as he spoke. He must’ve washed while I’d been visiting Aysia’s grave. The ends of his hair were damp, and he smelled of my soap, infused with whitedrop oil.

“But you…” Lorik said. “I care about what you think of me, Marion.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “You’re the only one I can say that about in Rolara.”

“We know so little about one another. How can you say that?”

“Sometimes you just know, little witch. Attraction is fairly easy to ascertain,” Lorik said, his hand sliding up my back, making me shiver. When his hand trailed up my neck and his shorn claws scraped pleasurably against my scalp, I nearly gasped. My throat seemed to tingle with that sweet touch. “And I’m certainly attracted to you. But connection? A true connection? That’s rare. But I have it with you. Do you feel it too?”

My heart was thumping in my chest.

“Yes,” I whispered.

The sound he made was a cross between a purr and a growl. “Mmm, I’m glad.”

The smile that crossed my face was perhaps the first genuine smile since Veras had arrived, and it felt goofy and too wide, stretching my features until I thought they might crack.

“You’re a beautiful woman,” Lorik told me, watching me quietly. I got the strangest sense that he was soaking in my smile, enjoying it, savoring it. There was patience lining the sharp bones of his face, as if we had all the time in the world, lingering on the edge of my cottage’s land. “I hope you know that.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You are too.”

Lorik’s brow raised, and my face flamed.

“Not a woman, obviously. Beautiful, yes,” I said hurriedly. I laughed through my mortification. “Gods, I’m terrible at this.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Lorik teased.

“You know you are,” I said, still recovering from my blunder. “You know the effect you have on people. I’ve seen it.”

Lorik took pity on me. He leaned down, and I held my breath, wondering if he would try to steal a kiss, as he’d already threatened.

I was both disappointed and immensely caught off guard when he brushed his lips across my temple. His lips were soft and warm. He let them linger there before kissing my forehead, holding me in place with the hand still tangled in my hair.

Then I felt him tense, his muscles going tight against me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling back with my flushed cheeks on display, frowning.

Lorik was looking at something in the forest. When I turned, the breath in my lungs turned to ice.

Glowing blue eyes were watching us from the darkness. A hulking creature with a hunched back stepped forward, its tattered cloak billowing out from behind it.

A Sever.

Chapter

Twelve

I’d only ever seen Severs from a distance. Through thick trees, walking aimlessly in the forest, and only ever at night.

But this one was so close I could practically smell it—like rotting leaves and forest decay. Sweet, almost. Sickeningly pungent.

It was lurching toward us, its heavy feet crunching over branches that splintered like bone.

The Sever’s skin was a pale gray, nearly translucent. Black veins spread underneath the flesh, like the veins of Lorik’s wings. Dark horns were curled back from his head, one broken in half. The Sever didn’t have any wings, but there seemed to be something protruding beneath its cloak where they may have once been. Cut?

It looked like Lorik. An Allavari-Kylorr male, only…a horrific version of one, as if it had been living in darkness, consumed by something unseen. It looked like its flesh was rotting away, its bones too sharp. I almost felt pity for the Sever, until it began to make a dull hiss in the back of its throat, its pace quickening toward us, scarred arm outstretched.

Peek pounced into the clearing, his fur standing up, a low growl rumbling from his chest. My braydus’s eyes were pinned on the Sever, and he slowly stalked toward it.

“Peek, no!”

“Get inside the cottage, Marion,” Lorik told me, maneuvering me around him so he was between the Sever and me. “Now.”

“But Peek—”

“I’ll take care of him. Go!”

I only hesitated for another moment before I darted away. There was some part of me that trusted Lorik. I wouldn’t leave my braydus with him if I didn’t, I realized.

When I made it to my cottage, I bolted the door and scurried to the chest I kept tucked underneath the counter. There was a bow and a quiver of wooden arrows inside. I was a fairly decent shot, my hands steady, though they were trembling now. I could still smell the Sever in my nostrils, churning my belly.

I went to the window, pushing the glass forward on its rusty hinges. I could hear horrible sounds in the darkness: the Sever’s hiss that made the hairs on my arm stand on end, Peek’s warbling growls, and the quick gust of wings. Lorik.

He was weaponless. I went back to the door, throwing it open.

“Lorik, I have—”

I stilled on the path. I hadn’t made it even a few feet when I heard the sickening crunch. It happened so quickly. But I watched as Lorik made a quick twist of his hands around the Sever’s neck, popped off its head like it was a doll’s stuffed with feathers. The Sever’s body slumped to the earth, and it lay still on the edge of the forest. The wet plop of its decapitated head joined it.

Lorik’s sharp breath seemed to reach me, even from a distance away. His eyes were glowing in the darkness, like one of the glowflies’ hives at midnight.

In the quiet, I watched as Peek investigated the remains, sniffing the cloak before he was satisfied, sitting at Lorik’s feet. The quiver and the bow felt entirely too useless in my hands.

“Go back inside, Marion,” came Lorik’s voice. Soft and incredibly gentle for someone who had just decapitated a monstrous creature with his bare hands.

And it had been easy for him, I thought.

I approached, ignoring his words.

“You’re still recovering, Lorik,” I said slowly, eyeing the Sever on the ground, avoiding looking at its head that had rolled near Peek. I felt oddly…calm. Was I in shock?

Lorik crouched down by the Sever, shifting its cloak so that he took hold of its arm. He pulled back the fabric, exposing the wrist.

Scars.

No…brands.

There were symbols etched into its skin, and Lorik huffed out a breath looking at them before he tossed the arm back to the ground with more force than necessary.

“What…what are those?”

“Crimes,” Lorik answered, standing. “Marion, go back inside. I need to get rid of the body before it draws others to the area.”

“Others?” I rasped. “Other Severs?”

Lorik scoffed. “This isn’t a Sever. Not anymore. Or maybe he is the truest Sever, at least according to the Allavari. Get back inside and take your braydus with you. I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for me to respond, Lorik gathered up the Sever’s limp body and its head…and shot up into the sky, the powerful gust of his wings awe-inspiring.

He disappeared overhead, the only memory of the Sever was a line of dark blood on the forest floor, which I kicked some dirt and leaves over to erase it from view. The truest Sever? Or not a Sever at all? What had he meant by that?

Peek nudged up against my leg, his big, luminous eyes staring up at me. I looked to the sky again but didn’t see any sign of Lorik. I looked around the clearing of my cottage, to the darkness of the Black Veil, which I’d never been truly frightened of before.

Now? There was an ominous feeling I couldn’t help but shake. That Sever might draw others?

Hurrying back into the cottage, I made certain Peek was inside before I bolted the door. There was restless energy building in my gut. I’d been in a silent daze for most of the day, emotionally drained, and now this had happened. I paced the floor of my cottage, Peek watching me from the window sill where the glass was still open, as if he were standing guard.

It didn’t take long until I heard the familiar gust of wings, until I heard a heavy weight land on the cobblestones outside my door.

“Marion,” came his voice. Relief made me dizzy, and I rushed to the door, unlocking it, before Lorik stepped inside.

He smelled like the Sever, his chest smeared with its dark blood from when he’d carried it away. I didn’t know what he’d done with the body. I didn’t want to know, truthfully. Whatever he’d done, he’d done it quickly.

“Are you okay?” I rushed out, seeing a bloom of blood beneath the bandage at his shoulder. He’d torn the sutures.

“Fine,” he said, tone gruff. “Are you?”

He was studying me carefully. Was he worried that I’d be frightened of him now? After what I’d seen him do?

My mind latched on to his wound. I looked at his blood-slicked chest.

“You should bathe,” I told him, seeing a streak of the Sever’s blood a little too close to the bandage’s edge. I didn’t want another infection taking root. “I’ll…I’ll draw a bath. And then I’ll look at your shoulder.”

“Marion.”

“Let’s get you clean, all right? You’re bleeding. Then we can talk.”

When I stepped into the washroom, I realized my hand was shaking when I turned the taps. The water would be cold this time of night.

“Did you want me to heat the stones in the hearth or—”

I sucked in a sharp breath when I turned, when I heard the gentle whoosh of his pants hit the floor.

“I’ll do it,” he told me, standing before me fully naked, and I held my breath, hoping my face wouldn’t burn right up. He maneuvered around me, all endless, muscled flesh. I was used to his bare chest, but I wasn’t prepared for his bare backside, rounded but dimpled with sharp muscles at the sides. His thighs…strong and smooth.

His cock…

I swallowed, glad his attention was on the bathing tub. He skimmed his hand over the surface. Just like the washing basin outside, he heated the water quickly, steam rising with his swift magic. His soft cock swung forward with the movement, the head of it darker than the shaft.

Even soft, veins curled up the sides.

Even soft…he was shockingly large.

My nails bit into the palms of my hands. I cleared my throat, turning quickly to get a fresh bandage from my cabinet in the front room, rummaging around, clinking bottles noisily, buying time as I got my heart under control.

Just a body, I thought. As a healer, especially when I’d lived in Rolara, before I’d hidden myself away in the Black Veil, I’d seen plenty of naked bodies. Males, females—it didn’t matter. They were just bodies to me. Bodies that needed tending, that needed healing, that needed care.

Lorik needs care, I reminded myself.

He had a beautiful body, but I reminded myself of my healer’s oath and blew out a quiet breath, gathering my supplies just when I heard him sink down into the tub.

Good.

“Let me get the bandage off,” I told him, eyeing him as he leaned back in the bathing tub, his wings tucked uncomfortably inside. It was laughably small for someone his size, but at least it covered his distracting cock.

Kneeling at the side of the tub, I set my supplies next to me and unwrapped the bloodied cloth. Water trickled when he cupped some in his palms, splashing his chest to loosen and soften the Sever blood. I handed him a clean washcloth, and he began to scrub, his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pursed in an almost pouting expression that I thought was oddly adorable.

He didn’t like to be dirty, I realized.

“You tore through a few of the sutures. I’ll need to redo them,” I told him quietly.

He didn’t say anything. In fact, he was entirely too quiet.

Lorik scrubbed at his body until not a speck of blood remained. He uncapped the bathing tub and watched the dirtied water swirl down before he turned on the taps again. He didn’t even hiss when the icy water met his flesh. He didn’t even shiver, keeping still as fresh water from my well rose around him.

As for me, I kept my eyes firmly on his shoulder, cutting out the threads of the sutures before threading my curved needle.

“I’ll start stitching now,” I said softly, warning him. He nodded. Though the water was fresh, no steam rose. He didn’t heat the water, and I wondered why.

Lorik gave no indication that he even felt the needle piercing into him. I made quick work of it, and only when he had a fresh bandage on his clean skin did I start to feel more at ease.

Rocking back on my heels, I looked at him.

Lorik turned his head to regard me though he looked like a spoiled prince reclining in the tub.

“Why don’t you heat the water?”

“Will you join me if I do?”

A flood of heat burned in my belly. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m being infinitely serious,” he replied, straight-faced, no hint of amusement on his features.

I tucked a strand of loose, wavy hair behind my ear, wetting my suddenly dry lips. My hands needed to be washed, but I couldn’t move. Not when he was looking at me the way he was.

Lorik took pity on me. He smiled. Whatever mask he’d had in place before vanished…or perhaps his grinning, handsome face was more of a mask than I realized.

“I don’t heat the water because it’s a comfort. And I don’t need comfort right now. I need to remember.”

“Remember what?” I whispered.

“My duty,” he murmured, lowering his chin before jutting it forward, gesturing toward the front room of my cottage, to the door. “To protect.”

My brow furrowed. “From…from the Severs?”

“He wasn’t a Sever,” Lorik snapped. While his tone wasn’t harsh, I still felt the bite of his words. “He was a Shade. A murderer. A thief. An oath breaker. And he wanted to die. He knew I would end him. I gave him mercy when I should have let him rot into this forest.”

“What?” I whispered. I’d always known that there was more to Lorik than I could see…but this? “A Shade?”

“A Shade is what the Allavari think Severs are,” he said, rolling his good shoulder, bringing a hand up to pinch between his brows. Then he inspected underneath his short claws, flicked out a piece of dried blood, and then took up the cloth again, scrubbing around his fingers. “But Severs have their own laws. Shades break them. Some were cast out from the Below, to be hunted or to be alone.”

“How…how do you know all this?” I asked, my heart thrumming in my throat.

Lorik met my eyes. Bright, swirling blue. For a long while, he said nothing. Then…

“In Olimara, there’s a collection of three books in the library,” he said, his gaze sliding away, scrubbing at his claws again.

“Olimara?” I asked. “The western village on the other side of the Black Veil?”

He inclined his head once. “Books rumored to have been stolen from the Below. By a Sever. Brought up to the Above world and given in exchange for the right to live in the village, to live out the rest of his days there.”

“And is that true?” I asked, utterly still. I’d never been to Olimara. Was that where Lorik lived?

“Who knows,” Lorik said, his tone gruff. “Everyone lies.”

“Even you?” I asked before I thought better of it.

“Especially me,” he said, his sharp smile returning.

The flash of his fangs made me jolt, made me remember that it was nightfall and he likely needed to feed, especially after expending that energy on the Sever. Or…the Shade.

“You’ve killed Shades before,” I commented.

“Only ones that get too close to the villages,” he told me. “Or the ones who want to die.”

“You give them mercy even though you don’t think you should?” I asked, my gaze sliding down the line of his slick chest before I could stop myself. “Why?”

“It’s only more pain and suffering,” he replied. “Better to end it. Pain has power. It has energy, like magic. Why allow it to spread? Why not twist off its head right where it stands?”

There was something rising in me at the brutal edge of his words. Something I didn’t understand.

Lorik cocked his head. Water trickled when he raised an arm, and I felt his hand clasp my chin, his thumb stroking the bottom of my lip.

“Do you like that, my bloodthirsty little witch?”

“I’m not bloodthirsty,” I whispered, unable to look away.

“You like it when I’m cruel though. Or merciful—however you wish to look at it,” he replied. His eyes were glowing again. They were all I could see.

“I like it when you don’t hesitate,” I corrected, the words falling out of me in a rush. My lip was wet from his thumb, and he stroked over the flesh. Unconsciously, I darted my tongue out to catch the water, and he made a sound in the back of his throat when it met the roughened pad of his thumb.

“Explain,” he ordered, his gaze on my lips, like he wished I would lick him again.

“When you…when you don’t overthink anything. You act. Some might call it unpredictable, but I don’t think it’s that at all,” I confessed softly, my throat tight with want and desire and something that felt strangely like panic. “I think you know yourself better than most people know themselves. Your morality, your values, your lies, and your truths. I think you see the world ten steps ahead of everyone else.”

“Then why didn’t I ask you to Grimstone’s and steal your kiss in a back booth if you believe I don’t hesitate when it comes to what I want?” he questioned.

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t say only when it comes to what you want. But I think you know why you haven’t asked me to Grimstone’s,” I whispered. “I don’t. But you do. There’s a reason for it—one I cannot see yet.”

“But are you beginning to see it?” he questioned, leaning forward, his chest pressing harder against the side of the washing tub. “Are you beginning to see who I am, little witch?”

“I’m not even close,” I admitted, my eyes half-lidded, leaning toward him. “I know your name is Lorik Ravael. I know you don’t live in Rolara. I know Veras knows you and he thinks you’re dangerous. I know you joke and smile with the lonely old silk trader at the market and that it makes her whole week. I know you watch people, I know you see a lot more than many do. I know you were struck with a poisoned arrow with a metal tip when Allavari only use wood. I know you’ve killed Severs…only you call them Shades. And that you’ve read books in Olimara. And that you have a sister who you would do anything for, though I’ve never seen you with anyone in the village. And I know…”

I swallowed, licking my lips again, and I felt the pressure of Lorik’s thumb increase on my bottom lip.

“You know what, Marion?”

“I know that you look at me like you don’t look at anyone else. Unless even that’s a lie,” I couldn’t help but add. “Is it?”

“Hmmm. Tell me how I look at you, and I’ll tell you if it’s a lie,” he rasped.

“Like…like you want me. Like I’m the one thing you can’t figure out and it drives you mad,” I answered honestly, memory of catching his pensive frown on me in the market. “Like you want nothing more than to steal my kiss and for some reason you just won’t. Or can’t. Like—”

Lorik leaned forward, his movements so quick they were a blur.

His palm spread over my cheek, his long fingers extending toward the nape of my neck, tugging me toward him.

His lips were warm and soft…but his kiss was firm.

I gasped, my scalp tingling, a full-body shiver racking me.

“Not a lie,” he whispered against my lips. His tongue lapped at mine, his fangs brushing my bottom lip, teasing. “How’s this for not hesitating?”

Chapter

Thirteen

His husky words drifted over my tongue, threading down my throat, until it felt like I’d consumed them entirely.

He hadn’t hesitated—not this time—and so I didn’t either. And maybe it was the emotion of the afternoon and evening—Veras and the Sever and the dark look in Lorik’s eyes when he’d spoken of mercy and Shades—but I needed something. I needed an escape. An outlet.

And I knew I would find it in Lorik.

Our kiss grew to be a desperate thing, roving and seeking like a moon wolf scenting prey. His hot breath drifted between my lips. I inhaled his scent like bonfire smoke, making me dizzy, making the walls spin. His kiss made my mouth tingle, like I could feel the pinpricks of his magic trailing along my skin, pleasant little zings that only made me demand more.

My hands went to his wet shoulders. I forgot about his wound, but he didn’t even flinch when I accidentally hit the bandage.

“Lorik,” I gasped out, feeling need rise in me, growing and growing to new heights that it was almost frightening. There was a buzzing underneath my skin, one that made me so full of energy I thought I might burst. Especially if he didn’t touch me the way I wanted.

It had been much too long since I’d slept with a man. Since I’d felt the weight and heat and press of one. Since I’d felt whispered sighs drift across my skin and felt the sweat cooling on my chest in the afterglow.

I’d hidden myself away in the Black Veil in my grief…but it had been ten years and I’d been paralyzed here. Unable to move forward.

I didn’t want that anymore. And I had a Kylorr-Allavari male, who was much more than he seemed, pressed into me.

And I wanted him.

I wanted him so desperately I thought I would choke on my need.

Lorik, thank the gods, seemed to feel that same desperation clawing inside him because he stood from the washing tub in one swift motion. He broke our kiss only momentarily, and I stared up at him with a half-lidded gaze, lips swollen and red, as I kneeled in front of him.

Despite the icy water he’d been bathing in, and despite the fact that I’d just stitched up a wound—a wound that he’d only recently recovered from, his cock was as hard as Allavari steel.

“One chance,” he told me, the words drenched in warning though they fell from his lips like a purr. “One chance to leave, little witch. Because if I have you tonight, there’s no going back.”

Maybe if I wasn’t panting like a dog in heat, maybe if he hadn’t kissed me until I couldn’t even recall my own name I might’ve answered differently. I might’ve paused, given his words honest and deliberate thought.

But instead, I reached up, and the shocking heat of his hard cock met my palm. I gripped him tightly, finally eliciting a hiss and a whispered curse from him, his hips bucking forward. I traced the length of one thick vein up the shaft, but I didn’t make it to the tip.

Before I knew it, Lorik had darted from the washing tub and I was up in his arms before I could blink. The chill of his icy flesh made me gasp, but he swallowed it down with another stolen kiss, one that made me cling to his shoulders—though I was mindful of his bandaged wound this time.

“Patience, little witch,” he groaned, squeezing my backside with one large palm as he strode from the washroom. “I intend to savor this.”

His words brought about wicked fantasies that streamed into my head on a loop. But most of all, I wanted to touch him and explore every little thing that drove him wild. I wanted to make him come undone. I wanted to see Lorik Ravael ripped apart at the seams. Maybe then I could finally discover the secrets he was hiding. Who he truly was.

When my back met the warm sheets of my bed, I realized Lorik must’ve finished washing them for me when I’d been…otherwise occupied at Aysia’s grave.

That realization alone made me deepen his kiss as his weight came down on top of me, pinning me to the bed. His wings covered us like a blanket, spreading out so that they blocked the light coming in from the front room. Those tiny little membranes in his wings fascinated me, and I wanted to trace every little vein there like I’d traced the one lining his cock.

I saw blood bloom under the fresh bandage, given that he was hovering off me with his strength.

“Lorik,” I gasped.

“Leave it,” he growled, distracting me as he nearly ripped the front half of my dress down my own arms, trapping them at my sides though it bared my breasts to him. His eyes glowed brighter at the sight until we were lit with a soft cast of blue. “It’ll heal.”

I was torn between desire and duty…at least until Lorik dropped his head and I felt the heat of his mouth envelope my breast. I heard the whistle of his hitched breath against my skin, almost contented as he licked and laved.

“Oh gods,” I breathed, widening my thighs so he could sink further into me, melting against him until I felt boneless. He captured my nipple between his teeth, making me hold my breath, the tip of his fang a dangerous tease. With my nipple tight in his grasp, he stroked the underside with his tongue, and I moaned throatily. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. “Lorik!”

Even still, I caught the fresh scent of his blood, and I groaned.

“Lorik, your—”

A rough sound left his throat though it was followed by a husky, languid chuckle, one that felt like silk skimming my skin.

“Heal me, then, little witch,” he purred. “And I know exactly what I need.”

With that he rolled off me, going to his back on the bed. I was relieved when the weight was off his shoulder at the very least.

“Stand up,” he ordered.

I swallowed, feeling the cool air drift over my breast where he’d suckled, puckering the sensitive flesh and making me burn. I stood from the bed.

“That’s my good little witch,” he praised. “Now, take off your dress.”

“I should get the needle and—”

“Take off your dress. Now.”

The edge in his tone had me wiggling from the material, suddenly desperate to hear what he’d order me to do next. Had my two past lovers ever dared to order me around when it came to sex? No.

A pity, I realized, feeling something unlock in me. Something I wanted to explore.

When I was naked, my dress pooled at my feet and the end of my hair tickling the edge of one nipple, Lorik’s gaze trailed up my body slowly. Savoring, I realized.

It was so quiet, I wondered if Lorik could hear my heart throbbing in my chest. With impatience. With need. With nerves. It had been so long, what if I’d forgotten how to be with someone?

“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Marion,” came his words. Soft and gentle.

“You think so?” I asked, a smile pulling at my lips. My belly fluttered. Lorik might’ve been a liar, like he’d proclaimed, but all I’d heard was soft honesty—even reverence—in his tone.

“Gods, yes,” he groaned. “Come here.”

“How is this healing you?” I asked again, stepping toward the bed, eyeing his bandage.

“You’ll see,” he rasped, watching me place a knee on the edge of the firm mattress. “No, come up here. I need a taste of you.”

Heat burned my cheeks, but I was much too curious and eager to protest.

“Like this?” I asked, my tone pitched high, when I settled my knees around his face, careful of his shoulder and his wings. And his horns, but that was more for my sake, I knew as I eyed the sharpened tips.

“Perfect,” he whispered, and I let out a deep sigh when I felt that word drift between my thighs. Lorik’s arms came around my hips, holding me down. “I want you to let go.”

When the wet heat of his tongue registered against my pussy, I gasped. I didn’t know what he’d meant by those last words until my thighs began to shake and I realized he wanted me to let go. To give in to every sensation and every lick and lap and every tease that inched me closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.

“Lorik,” I moaned. The grip on my hips tightened with his name, and I reached back to steady myself on his chest so I didn’t fall right over. But the position only opened me up to him more.

His tongue felt like it was everywhere all at once. Hot and slick and delicious and wicked. The muscles in my legs were trembling. The moans tumbling from my lips seemed to fill the air until I could hear nothing else.

Right when I was on the edge of an orgasm, Lorik pulled back.

“No!” I cried out, my eyes flying open.

He grinned between my thighs, those eyes practically as feral as that smile. His lips were shining with my slickness, but I couldn’t find it in me to be embarrassed.

“Greedy little witch,” he said. His voice was unrecognizable, deep and rough with his desire. The edge of his finger teased at my opening when he moved it from my hip. I bucked against his hand, desperate to be filled by something. Anything.

When he thrust a finger into me, my lips parted and my head lolled around my shoulders. His thumb pressed against my clit, but the thickness of his finger inside me felt even more perfect.

But then…I felt his fangs skim my inner thigh. I gasped and looked down. Only when I met his eyes, realization making mine widen in anticipation, did he bite down.

Healing him, came the wild thought. This was what he’d meant.

The prick of his fangs registered as his venom flooded the small wound. Whatever chemistry we had, whatever reason—whether divine fate or magic or mere biology—that made his bite feel orgasmic, I didn’t question it. I only enjoyed it.

Lorik groaned, deep in his throat in between his pulling draws of my blood.

Every suck made my eyes roll. He’d had me on the edge of orgasm already with his tongue and his touch. This? It felt like I could come merely from this.

“Lorik,” I groaned, his name edged with panic and pleasure. I was frightened of how good it might feel to come like this, but I thought I’d never be the same if I didn’t experience it.

He dislodged his fangs briefly, and I nearly cried with frustration.

“Look at me,” he purred, wedging another finger deep, joining the first and making me shiver. “Look over your shoulder and see what you do to me, Marion. See how hard you make my cock. See how much I fucking ache for you.”

Right when I did what he ordered, I felt him bite down again.

My lips parted when I saw his cock. Thick and hard and bobbing with need. A pool of pre-come had settled into the rigid lines of muscles lining his abdomen. The veins were even more prominent, and I wanted to lick every last one.

Gods, the sight of him like that was sexy. So incredibly arousing. I wanted to lap at his shimmering, silvery pre-come off his belly and make him moan.

“Mmmm,” he hummed against me, no doubt feeling the gush of slickness between my thighs at the sight.

“I love that,” I breathed, greedy for him. Reaching back, I took his cock in my hand, so hot it felt like it could burn me if I wasn’t careful. So hot that for a moment I feared his fever might’ve returned if not for the coolness of his skin beneath me. “I love that I make you like this.”

He groaned when I stroked him, his deep draws of my blood even more pronounced, and my thighs tightened around his face. My body was beginning to shake, the sublime pleasure from his feeding nearly overwhelming.

Let go, I remembered.

I let out a choking gasp, my hand tightening around his thick, perfect cock as I began to orgasm.

Lorik felt the change, felt me clamping down on his fingers like a vise as I cried out and bucked. His other arm held me steadily in place, his other hand working between my thighs.

And he never stopped his feeding.

“Oh gods,” I choked, the air in my lungs being tugged from me as if it could be tethered to a rope and pulled. My belly contracted, my moans filled the air as the best orgasm of my entire damn life unleashed in me. The outlet I’d needed. The relief.

I’d known Lorik would give it to me, hadn’t I?

When it was over, Lorik was continuing to feed. I kept a grip on his cock, feeling him buck his hips into my grip like he was imagining fucking me, and when I met his eyes, they were burning into mine.

Even in the aftermath of the orgasm, I could feel him already beginning to stoke the remaining embers.

He wasn’t done with me, I realized.

I intend to savor this, he’d told me.

The night was far from over.

Chapter

Fourteen

Lorik released his fangs from me, but he didn’t heal the wound.

“I want to see my mark on you,” he rasped, retracting his fingers from my still-clenching pussy and using the wetness to brush my sensitive clit. I sucked in a sharp breath. “Beautiful.”

He had me in his grip before I could say a word, effortlessly lifting my boneless body off him until I found myself lying sideways across the bed. Lorik stood, looming over me in the darkness, taking his cock in his hand. I licked my lips, watching as he gave it a few steady pumps, squeezing tight around the thick, bulbous head.

“This is what you want, Marion?” he questioned, voice guttural and low. He stepped closer, between my splayed thighs, kneeling slightly so that he could run the head of his cock over the sensitive, hot flesh.

I whimpered, biting my lip.

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“Yes,” I breathed.

He smirked. “Yes…what?”

Maddening male, I thought.

I arched my back so we pressed together again, and he let out a low groan.

“Yes, I want your cock.”

“Good,” he whispered, his eyes appearing to burn brighter. I knew he was something different. So why wasn’t I afraid of him? Even when I caught ripples of magic over his skin, even when I’d felt his magic in his kiss, why hadn’t I been afraid then?

That gaze roved down my body, drinking me in. He reached forward to pinch one of my nipples gently, just as the heat of his cock met my entrance. He used it to tease me, and even on the heels of that incredible orgasm, I found myself tensing with anticipation and impatience.

“I wanted this to be slow,” he told him, sinking into me a couple inches, making me gasp. “I wanted to take my time with you, but I don’t know if I can.”

“I don’t want you to take your time,” I said, the tone of my voice practically a whine. I pushed myself up onto my elbows to get a better view, and Lorik’s hand cupped my breast fully. “Lorik, please!”

“Oh, I like that,” he purred, sinking into me a few more inches. I felt the burning stretch. He was incredibly—for lack of a better word—huge. And it had been a long time for me. “You begging.”

Maybe slow is better, I couldn’t help but think, huffing as I forced my muscles to relax to take more of him.

“Don’t get used to it,” I shot back. Lorik let out a husky laugh before he seemed to hold his breath, sliding deeper…and deeper.

Gods, how big was he?

Finally, there was nowhere else for him to go, and I looked up at him with parted lips and half-lidded eyes.

Blood was seeping through the bandage already, but I would take care of him later. He came down on top of me, the heat of his body and the delicious weight of him pressing me into the mattress. He stole another kiss, passionate and almost possessive, as he was seated deep inside me, giving me a moment to get used to his size.

“Mmm, I’m high on your blood and your pussy, my beautiful little witch. There’s nothing better than the way you make me feel,” he whispered against my lips. His naughty words stoked the fire burning inside my belly, and he groaned when I squeezed around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good, Marion.”

“Lorik,” I pleaded.

“You want to come again?”

“Yes!”

Another chuckle that lit my blood on fire. “Very well.”

The first hard thrust had me crying out, the room swaying with the overwhelming sensation of delicious friction and pleasure. The second had me scrambling for his shoulders, trying to keep myself in place as the strength of him nearly flung me off the bed. The third and fourth and fifth thrusts had me moaning out his name, digging my fingernails into his back.

Nothing felt as good as him inside me. I understood what he’d meant before.

Our lips met in the chaos of our lovemaking. Warm and comforting, the kiss anchored me to him, my beacon in the storm. Lorik was needful. Strong. Incredibly so. Part Kylorr—I could feel that infamous strength buzzing under his skin. I knew he was holding himself back in fear of hurting me…but I wanted him to give it all to me. His aggression, his desire.

“Let go,” I said against his lips, repeating the words he’d said to me. “Let go for me, Lorik.”

He groaned, the sound pulled from him harshly. His breathing was labored, both our chests damp from perspiration, and the sounds of our bodies meeting filled the room with an erotic, arousing beat. Like music.

I could feel when he gave himself to me fully. Every measured thrust nearly stole my breath, but I relished the ferocity of him, the wildness.

“Made for me,” he growled.

I clenched around him, the pressure from his pelvis stimulating my clit. And the fact that he felt too good inside me. His cock. His voice. His words. I was going to come again…but I wanted him to follow me.

“Close,” I gasped out. “Don’t stop.”

His pace quickened. Even though I didn’t think it possible, he slid even deeper, filling me to the brim, more full than I’d ever been before.

His head dropped, and I tilted my head back to avoid his horns, the tip of one brushing my jaw. His lips found my breast. I thought he was going to suck on my nipple again, maybe take it between his teeth. Until…

“Oh gods,” I choked out, feeling his fangs slide deeply into the upper flesh. He began to feed. “Lorik, I’m going to—”

My orgasm came at me quickly and suddenly. The sucking pull of his feeding, the wicked pleasure and unexpectedness of it, hurtled me off the edge, and I cried out with a breathless gasp, my back arching off the bed, all the muscles in my legs and abdomen tightening.

“Fuuuck,” came his muttered curse, though it was muffled against me. He groaned, no doubt feeling me clamp down on him, his pace quickening, hips jerking against me in a chaotic rhythm.

Through the ringing in my ears, I heard his almost anguished moan, low and deep. When I opened my heavy eyelids, I saw his head was flung back, his long hair tangling in his horns. With his eyes screwed shut, I witnessed the beautiful pleasure cross his features just as I felt the heat of his come shoot into me, the ragged buck of his hips as he chased his orgasm down.

A veil appeared to shimmer over his face. For a moment, Lorik’s features appeared sharper yet somehow broader. His body seemed to grow around me, but my hands remained in place. When I blinked, whatever image I’d witnessed was gone. Lorik’s eyes caught mine, and he leaned down to kiss me.

The orgasms have addled my brain, I thought, dismissing what I’d seen. I closed my eyes, pressing myself into him, and he shuddered, his hips lazily rocking into me as his own climax faded.

In the aftermath, it was quiet. Lorik leaned into me, the heavy bulk of his body comforting. I had my arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him as the sweat on our skin cooled and our hearts slowed. My fingers met the edge of the bandage on the back of his shoulder, where the metal arrow had pierced through.

He let out a long breath that ruffled my hair.

Into my ear, he murmured, “No going back now, Marion.”

Chapter

Fifteen

The fire in the hearth crackled, and I felt Lorik’s hand dip from my hip bone, slowly trailing around my backside, giving a light squeeze.

“Stop,” I chided, unable to keep the wide grin that stretched over my features at bay, negating my stern word.

For his sake, Lorik looked repentant, even as he gave my ass another squeeze. “I’m sorry, healer. Forgive me.”

I chuckled, feeling a dull ache between my legs when I moved behind him. He was seated on the chair in the front room. And I was fixing his sutures. Yet again. From the feeding, from my blood, he’d already begun to heal, but I didn’t want the thread to get trapped under his skin. Even for a Kylorr, he healed remarkably fast. Though I wondered if that had more to do with his Allavari ancestry as well. Likely a combination of both, I finally decided.

“Not too bad,” I commented as I finished the last stitch. “The skin is a little ravaged,” I admitted. “But it’ll heal quickly. I put more salve on it. Try not to jostle it too much.”

“Tell that to my new lover—she’s demanding,” came his reply, and my face heated at the word. Lover. He tsked. “After tonight, you’re still shy?”

I squeaked when Lorik tugged me into his lap—his still-naked lap, and I felt the side of his half-hard cock brush my arm. His kiss came suddenly, and I stilled, breathing into it, tingles shooting into my scalp. A kiss so sweet it made my teeth ache.

“And you say I’m the demanding one,” I teased gently, pulling back. “I still have a needle in my hand,” I warned.

“What’s the old Allavari saying? A needle through the eye if you’re not spry?”

I huffed out a breath and slapped at his hand when it began to wander. I grinned as I escaped his grip, smoothing my hair and my dress. Crossing to my cabinets, I used the time to get my heart under control. I dropped my tools into a soaking dish to sanitize and wrapped the remainder of the clean bandages neatly, tucking them into a lined drawer.

“I’m going to have to go into the market to get you more bandages at this rate,” I noted. For the bloodied ones, I tossed those into a basket to be burned with purple fire.

“I’ll go with you. We could go to Grimstone’s Tavern,” he said.

I sighed.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” he asked, leaning back in the chair, the tops of his wings twitching. I studied him like this, thinking it a shame that I didn’t have Aysia’s talent for art. Because I would’ve loved to capture this moment with paper and ink. To draw him just like this, frozen in time and in memory.

And Lorik would be a perfect subject. All sharp bones and maddeningly handsome features. He’d always made Rolara’s population of females swoon, even though none dared to approach him. He just had…an energy about him that warned others away.

Prey instinct, I thought. And most could sense that he was the predator. Or something like one. Dangerous. He was calculated while giving the impression that he was unpredictable.

“What are you thinking?” Lorik wondered, cocking his head to the side. “I can see the thoughts churning in that mind of yours.”

“Have you always had magic stronger than other Allavari?” I questioned, not wanting to tell him the entire truth.

“This again?” he rasped. “I told you before. I just know how to wield it more efficiently than most.”

“And who taught you that?”

He smiled. “Myself.”

“There was a moment in there,” I said, nodding my head to the door to my bedroom, “toward the end where it looked like you were someone else.”

Lorik blinked, lowering his chin. “How so?”

I shrugged a shoulder but kept it lifted, crossing my arms over my chest. “It was you, but it looked like there was magic shimmering over your face. You looked different. Stronger. Your features appeared more…sharp.”

If anything, he’d been even more beautiful, and I already didn’t think his beauty was fair. Allavari were known to be a physically beautiful race, with their willowy, graceful bodies and perfect symmetry.

Throw in Kylorr genes?

There might be such a thing as being too handsome, and Lorik already toed that line.

“What are you asking me?” Lorik wondered quietly, eyeing me.

“Does…does that happen to Kylorr males a lot?”

Lorik blew out a short breath. I had the impression he was thinking about his answer with deliberateness.

“Kylorr get stronger during sex and especially after release. Though sex tempers our berserker rages, sex is still a primal thing. It calls to our baser instincts. It will always bring out aggression for a Kylorr. Satisfying aggression. And feeding during sex? It guarantees there will be a physical response. That’s likely what you saw.”

I swallowed past the thick lump in my throat. “I…I thought that might be the case. For living on a planet whose population is part Kylorr, I know embarrassingly little about them.”

“You’re a healer,” Lorik pointed out, gesturing me forward when he noticed I was lingering on the edge of his reach. I stepped into him, and he widened his legs, taking my palms in his. “Shouldn’t you study Kylorr to know them better?”

“I should,” I admitted. “But Kylorr get injured very rarely. And most that do heal quickly. Besides…I…I haven’t exactly been involved in village life. No one wants to trek all the way out here to be seen by me. The ones that do…they need the remedies only I have.”

“From your glowflies,” Lorik said.

“Yes.”

“The shadevines,” he guessed.

“Yes,” I said. “But the people I see have usually been poisoned or have some kind of rare infection that’s taken hold. Tending to flesh wounds…I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You tell me that now?” Lorik teased.

“You were poisoned, had an infection, and had a difficult flesh wound,” I pointed out. “I think I did pretty damn well, considering the circumstances.”

Lorik chuckled, running his hands up my sides until they clasped my waist. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the middle of my abdomen. Against the thin dress I’d thrown on after our lovemaking, I could hear him murmur, “You did a wonderful job, my little witch.”

His praise made me want to sink into a puddle at his feet.

“How are you feeling?” Lorik asked.

“About?”

“Much has happened today,” he commented. “Did you expect any of it?”

Veras. Aysia. The Sev—the Shade. And what had happened between us afterward. That was what he meant.

“No,” I admitted. “I don’t make it a habit to sleep with my patients.”

“You better not,” he grumbled, and I settled my hand on his warm chest, feeling so protected and safe in his lap. “You know what I mean.”

I sighed. “It’s been a long day—you’re right.”

“Are you tired?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

“Good. Me neither,” he said.

“You should rest, Lorik,” I said. “Your infection was just—”

“I’m fine, Marion,” he told me. “I told you before. I’m stronger than I look. This wound will be gone by the end of the week, if not sooner, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

And then he’ll be gone, I thought, a surprising wave of loneliness crashing down into me. There was no reason for him to stay. Now that the poison was out of his system and he’d already overcome the lingering infection, come morning, he would have no reason to be here.

“Then I’ll only see you at market days,” I couldn’t help but whisper.

Lorik’s arm tightened around my back, and he dragged his hand over my hip. “Is that what you want? Only on market days?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I met his eyes. There was a sullenness in his tone, one that matched mine perfectly. “No, I don’t want that. Not only on market days. But I’ve never seen you in Rolara on other days. You’re like a ghost.”

“So are you,” he replied. But he didn’t tell me where he lived. He said nothing else about it. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Do you need permission?” I teased, hiding my disappointment.

“I suppose I could ask anyway and you could just tell me to fuck off,” he murmured.

“Yes, always a possibility,” I said, the edge of my lips curling before I sobered. “Ask.”

“Aysia,” Lorik said, and I tensed slightly. “Maybe it’s not so much a question. More of…I want to know you. I want to know everything about you, and she was a large part of your life. I’ve heard things in the village, idle gossip. I want to hear it from you.”

I nodded, swallowing. I pushed off his lap and went to my counter, filling a kettle with fresh water from the tap.

“Tea?” I asked.

“Sure.” His tone was at ease, relaxed, like we’d done this a million times. I knew he could sense I wasn’t running away, but I just needed to speak about Aysia in my own way.

I plopped the kettle on the hook over the fire in the hearth and added another log, sparks flying. Straightening, I looked down into the flames and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for it to boil.

“Correl’s orphanage, as I’m sure you know, was not a wonderful place to grow up,” I told him.

“I’ve heard the stories. It burned down, didn’t it? Correl died in the fire,” Lorik said.

“That would have been Veras’s handiwork,” I confessed. “Though he’ll never admit it. He did it for Aysia, in his own twisted way. I think a part of her even liked it. Anyway…I grew up with a woman—an Allavari woman—who had taken me in since I was a baby. I never knew my parents. She was kind to me—at least I think so. I only have fond memories of her. But she died when I was seven, and I went to live at the orphanage. I was there about a year before Aysia came. She was so small then. Just a child.”

Lorik frowned. “You raised her?”

I nodded. “I was a mother and a sister to her. Maybe that’s why I find it so hard to move on. To forgive. Because I raised her and I was no more than a child myself.”

Lorik cursed under his breath, soft and gentle.

“I was the eldest at Correl’s. I took care of many children, but with Aysia…our bond was always different. It was special. The others knew it. They would pick on her and I did what I could to protect her…but children can be cruel. She was alone a lot even though she had me. Correl would beat her with this strap when she didn’t come back by curfew. I would tend to her wounds, try to make her feel better.”

My throat tightened. After today, this was likely the last thing I wanted to talk about, but it felt good in its own way. Like picking off a scab that itched.

“We got older. We had all these plans. I would pledge myself to the Healers’ Guild when I was of age. I would take her when I left Correl’s, and she would apprentice under an artist so she could eventually pledge herself to the Artists’ Guild. But we would live together in a little cottage and have a home all our own where no one could hurt us again. And we would be free.”

The water in the kettle began to steam, and I took it from its holder, being careful not to burn myself. When I turned, I saw that Lorik had stood from his chair, a restless energy about him. He caught my wrist when I passed and took the kettle.

“Sit down,” he told me. Then he went to the cabinets, pulling out cups and silk satchels of dried tea leaves after I watched him rummage with endless curiosity. “Go on.”

He made us tea—naked in my kitchen—while I sunk down on the opposite chair, my back to the fire. Peek, I noticed, was sleeping, curled under the bench by the front door. Maybe he’d finally decided he trusted Lorik. His ears were relaxed, no longer perked, even in his slumber.

“And that’s what almost happened,” I continued, sighing, sliding my arms across the table, sweeping away unseen dust and playing with the edge of a thread I’d trimmed away from the spool. “I came of age. I left and took Aysia with me. I pledged myself to the Healers’ Guild, taking work where I could while studying beside them. Aysia got an apprenticeship. A few years later, Aysia came of age. And right when she was about to make her pledge…she met Veras. Then everything changed.”

“In what ways?” Lorik wondered, coming to the table with two mugfuls of steaming tea. The bitterness of the leaves perfumed the air, and I watched as he sat down in the opposite chair, sliding my cup across the wood table. His hand strayed close to my own, and he gave it a gentle caress, fluttering my belly, before pulling away. He leaned back in his chair, all warm, muscled flesh and a quizzical frown.

“I hardly ever saw her, for one,” I answered. “I think a part of me was jealous. He swept her off her feet, gave her anything she wanted. Their courtship was fast. Within a week of meeting, she was basically living with him on his estate. She stopped training under her artist, she decided to forgo the pledges for that particular year for the guild. All she talked about was Veras. She was in love. They both were,” I conceded.

“When did it start to go bad?”

“A few months in,” I replied, swallowing, wrapping my hand around the hot cup. “Everyone knew about Veras Lain. His illegal dealings with off-planet merchants for Allavari weapons.”

“Among other things,” Lorik commented, raising a brow.

“Exactly,” I said quietly. “Every time I tried to warn her or…” I sighed. “It only pushed her further away. We had a big fight about him a few months into their courtship, and she didn’t speak to me for almost four months. And when we finally reconciled…we were both so relieved, I think, to be back in one another’s lives that we played pretend. We didn’t speak about Veras, but she always went home to him. She always turned a blind eye to what he did. She gave up her art. Her entire life became him. And for the most part, I think she was happy with him. He made her happy, but…it cost her a lot. Too much.”

“Her life,” Lorik said gently, reaching across the table to take my hand. My heart gave a little throb at the gesture, and I threaded my fingers with his.

“Yes,” I whispered. “It happened so suddenly. Veras was meeting with a group of mercenaries from Jetutia. The negotiations turned bad apparently. They got angry. And Aysia…Aysia was there at the wrong time. They took her, ransomed her. Veras gave them the weapons they wanted…and they still killed her to punish him.”

“Fuck,” Lorik rasped, and my vision went blurry with that word. The days she’d been missing…they’d been absolute hell. “Marion, I’m sorry.”

I took a sip of my bitter tea, steeped a little too long, but I found the bite just distracting enough.

“It was nearly ten years ago now, and some days, it feels like it just happened,” I admitted. “And I was numb for a really long time. Then I was angry. And now…I don’t know what I am anymore.”

Lorik’s gaze softened. “You’re breaking my heart, little witch.”

“But Veras might be right. I told you earlier. I just can’t…I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t the life I want.”

“Being alone?” he asked.

A small, sad smile curled my lips. “Yes, that, but I feel like I’m just waiting for something. Or just wasting time. I can never be sure which. Do you ever feel that way?”

“I think everyone has felt that way at one point in their life,” he said.

“When did you?” I challenged.

He blew out a sharp breath, leaning forward in his chair even as his thumb stroked the back of my hand.

“Maybe right now,” he answered. “Can I speak freely without you asking too many questions?”

It was better than nothing, I decided. And I thought he figured I was smart enough to know that he was being secretive about something he couldn’t say.

I nodded.

“I feel like I’m a crossroads, being pulled in two different directions, by two entirely different places. I was raised with a purpose. There is a comfort in that. A familiarity. But I am also curious. About many things. Places, people, history. In choosing one, I cannot have the other. In choosing the other…I fear it will cost me more than I’m willing to pay. I don’t want to turn my back on my duty, to my family, to my people.”

Lorik squeezed my hand, giving me a slight smile.

“I think we are in similar positions, Marion,” he told me. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes, just without the legacy aspect, I suppose,” I murmured, noticing that he was trying to lighten the mood. It had settled too deep, and after the weight of the day, it was beginning to feel too heavy.

“We should figure it out together.”

My breath nearly whooshed out of my lungs at the pronouncement.

“I’m being serious,” he said, eyeing me, that smile having never left. “Are we in agreement?”

“I’ve always heard you shouldn’t make bargains with an Allavari. Because you’ll likely lose more than you think,” I said, if only to buy time.

His teeth flashed, the tips of his fangs poking into his bottom lip, making me remember the wound between my thighs where he’d bitten me as I’d orgasmed.

“Good thing I’m part Kylorr and the berserker in me would keep to its honor,” he replied, as quick as ever.

I laughed. It felt good, like a release…when I’d already had a couple tonight, I remembered with heated cheeks. Lorik looked at me over the rim of his cup as he sipped on his tea.

“Can’t argue with that,” I finally said. Almost shyly, I added, “All right, it’s a deal.”

“Good,” Lorik replied, the word sharp and clear. His gaze studied my face, those eyes observing at his leisure. “Thank you for telling me about Aysia.”

I nodded, observing him just like he was observing me.

“You have a beautiful soul, Marion,” he murmured. He’d said something like that before, and it still made my heart leap. “You would make anyone very happy.”

“Thank you,” I said, trying to fight the flustered beam that threatened to break out over my face. It was like I was swinging on emotions with him…but he made me feel safe. Heard. I felt like he did truly want to know everything about me because he cared about me. Because he knew that maybe one day, we would be more to one another.

“Too bad I’m a greedy bastard and I want you all to myself. The others can wait in line,” he deadpanned.

The laugh that sounded was louder than the first.

“Stop,” I whispered.

“No,” he answered, a small smile playing over his lips as he watched me. I had the impression he was drinking me in. Really looking at me. “Are you sore from earlier?”

“No,” I said softly. I was, actually, a little sore, but I wouldn’t admit it because I wanted him again too.

“Good,” he rasped, standing from the table, rounding toward me with that commanding body. “Now that I have you, I intend to take complete advantage.”

“Oh, really?” I asked, quirking a brow.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, little witch.”

Chapter

Sixteen

The following night, we were in the garden.

Lorik’s hand strayed below my waist, and I shot him a stern look, which had his lips twitching. The glowflies illuminated his face in varying shades of color as they bobbed and weaved and worked around us. The glowflies liked Lorik—or at least the brightbells and the death needle varieties did. The fire cups? Not so much. The shadevines…he’d nearly been stung.

One death needle glowfly landed on the tip of his horn, illuminating the striations of the black bone in silver light. I chuckled and said, “You look cute with your little friend.”

The look in Lorik’s eyes as he watched me nearly had me melting in place. Warm and gentle, it made my heart thud rapidly in my chest.

He likes me, I thought, the knowledge filling me with dizzy hope and excitement. He likes me a lot.

Lorik reached up, and the glowfly crawled onto the outstretched tip of his claw. He brought it down with care, observing the small insect, taking in its transparent, large wings and the way its body shimmered like a jewel.

“Most people are afraid of death needles because of their name,” I commented softly, observing them both. Behind him, I saw Peek in the hollow of the tree, spying in the garden, one of his favorite nooks outside. I smiled. “But they are actually the gentlest and most harmless of all the glowflies. Wrathweeds…those are the ones you need to watch out for.”

“I’ll stay all the way over here with you, then,” Lorik rumbled. “Marvelous little things, aren’t they? With more magic in their bodies than most Allavari possess in their lifetime.”

“Do you think it’s true?” I wondered. “What the villages are saying? That the Below is somehow leeching magic from this land? That Allavari are losing their power because of it?”

Lorik’s gaze met mine. The death needle glowfly flitted from his claw, landing on the nearby plant I was tending to, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tiny insect burrow its way into the blackness of the flower.

“No, I don’t think that’s true,” he replied.

“Do you think the Allavari are losing their magic?”

“I think that the Allavari like to blame others for their problems and lack of dedication and study to their craft,” Lorik said. “Magic is an element. It’s like the air we breathe, the soil in the earth. Nothing more. To strengthen and hone it, it takes practice and care. Focus and study. It’s a spiritual thing. It’s not supposed to come easily. The Allavari have simply forgotten that.”

“Do they have a ‘Study of Magic’ Guild in Olimara?” I teased, clearing out a stray weed from the death needle bed, tossing it to the ground.

“Olimara?” he questioned. “Why Olimara?”

“Because I figured you’re the head of that guild, if there was such one. And since you don’t live in Rolara, I thought maybe you lived in Olimara since you mentioned it before.”

“I don’t have only one home,” he replied, picking up the weed I’d plucked, twirling it around in his fingers. “I have many. I like it that way.”

“So you’re like a nomad, flitting from village to village?” I asked.

His lips curled, and he shot me a sharp look. “Something like that.”

Did he know I was trying to pry? But he was so private and closed off about anything personal that I was beginning to feel strangely about it.

“I don’t know much about you, Lorik,” I said softly. “For all I know, you could have a mate tucked away somewhere with five or six children running around and I would be none the wiser.”

Lorik narrowed his eyes. “Do you believe I’m that type of male?”

“No,” I said. “But you never truly know someone, isn’t that right? I, um, was involved with a male from the village…oh, six years ago, maybe? He told me all sorts of things, promised all sorts of things. Turns out he was a liar and he stole all my potions on his way out. So…my instincts about someone have been wrong before.”

A strained silence followed. Truthfully, I was a little embarrassed to have admitted that I’d been taken advantage of by a man I’d trusted. Umerie had been his name. He’d had beautiful silver eyes and a charming smile. And I might’ve been too lonely and desperate to feel anything that I’d been blinded by him. I didn’t want that to happen again.

“Marion,” Lorik said. Hesitantly, I looked up to meet his eyes. “I can promise you with every part of me that I don’t have a mate or children hidden somewhere. You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ve even allowed myself to get close to in a long time. That’s something you never have to worry about with me.”

I nodded, turning back to the garden bed. His words burned in my belly and brought heat to my cheeks. I was glad it was a chilly night to help hide it, but I had a feeling that Lorik knew the effect of his words anyway.

“You’re…you’re the only male I’ve allowed myself to get close to in a long time too,” I confessed.

“Let me show you something,” he murmured. Curious, I turned back to him, and he took my hand, placing the stem of the weed between my fingertips.

I held it, and he closed his palm around mine. I savored his heat and the calloused brush of his fingers.

“You have more magic than you think—I’ve told you before,” he murmured, staring down at our joined hands. “And when I join yours with mine…”

I gasped, feeling that familiar tingle crawl up and around my hand. It felt like an electric touch, comforting but still holding me on the edge, anticipating what would come next.

“You feel it?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed.

“I can call it so easily when I’m with you. When I’m here with you,” he told me. “It feels like breathing. Effortless. All because of you, little witch.”

The tingling sensation expanded, and I watched with parted lips as the weed began to grow. The shriveled bloom at the tip lifted, coming back to life, and with awe, I saw the petals unfurl, revealing a dark purple so deep it appeared black. The stamens were silver, and the stem blackened beneath our touch.

Beautiful. Not a weed at all.

“A midnight cosmia,” I whispered. “But how in the world did it get here?”

Lorik released his grip on my hand. “Their seeds travel far. Keep it in water, and it’ll last a lifetime.”

“Thank you,” I said, bringing it my nose. A beautiful, light fragrance, one that reminded me of quiet summer days, greeted me. “It’s a very nice gift.”

Lorik jerked, casting a quick look down at his inner wrist.

I frowned. “What’s wrong? A glowfly didn’t get you, right?”

But I saw no light of one, and Lorik turned his wrist into his side.

“It’s nothing,” he assured me, smiling. “I’m glad you like the flower.”

Hesitantly, I nodded.

Lorik looked around the night garden and then stood from his kneeling position.

“I’ll go put it in water,” he said, gently taking the bloom from my hand. “And let you finish up out here.”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Right there—gods, don’t stop.”

“Mmm,” Lorik groaned, capturing my lips as his hips drove into me harder, faster. His pelvis ground down into my clit, and it made me see stars with every thrust. “Going to come for me, little witch? I’m going to join you. Can’t hold back any longer.”

My nails dug into his back, and Lorik used his wings to propel him forward more forcefully, the gusts sending my curtains fluttering.

“You feel so fucking good,” he whispered against my lips, ragged and gruff. “So good, my love.”

The orgasm hit me hard, and I cried out, back arching off the bed, my pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest.

“Yes,” Lorik hissed, his hands on both sides of my head, holding the majority of his weight off me. His hips jerked, his rhythm becoming sporadic, punctuated by sharp thrusts as he followed me in his own release. The heat of his come felt searing—it felt like a brand inside me.

His head was thrown back, the tendons in his neck straining. Behind him his wings gave a gentle gust before sagging. He collapsed on top of me as my pleasure faded, and I gladly took the majority of his weight, though he did keep himself half-held to the side.

He let out a long sigh that rustled my hair, and I felt his lips press to my neck, peppering small, lazy kisses against me. I felt his sweat cooling on my skin and smiled in the afterglow, feeling more relaxed than I had in years. I brought my hand up to his hair, softly combing my fingers through it. He shivered when I scraped at his scalp, giving a little moan into my skin.

When I turned my face to kiss his temple, I savored the warmth and weight of him. Close to my cheek was his wrist from where he’d braced himself. And I—

There was a mark on his wrist that hadn’t been there before. Something that shimmered like opals across his skin, something infused with magic, and I suddenly remembered his reaction in the garden. So sudden I’d thought a glowfly had stung him.

It looked like a crest. A shield.

My brow furrowed, and Lorik raised his head. I quickly looked down at him.

“Sorry—I’m crushing you,” he murmured lazily. Sleepy already.

“I don’t mind it,” I told him truthfully. “It feels nice.”

What had caused the mark to appear so suddenly? I was certain I would’ve noticed it before now. I’d been caring for him and his wound, had sat beside him while he’d been sick with infection for nearly an entire day, and he’d been undressed then. No, this mark was new. But what had created it?

And I knew just as certainly that Lorik wouldn’t tell me if I asked. There was a part of me that worried he was like Veras—secretive in his business dealings but no less dangerous. What was Lorik involved in? And did I want to know? Or did I just want to enjoy him while I had him? Because even I knew this wouldn’t last forever.

Then again, I didn’t like to think of myself as a coward.

“Lorik,” I said gently, my heart suddenly pounding.

“Hmm?”

“What’s that mark on your wrist? I don’t think it was there before, right?”

He tensed briefly against my side, though he brought his arm around me, clasping me tightly to him. My bed didn’t allow for too much room, but that suited me just fine. His body was stretched behind me, and he tucked my bottom into his groin, his knees drawing up to lock against mine.

“No, it wasn’t,” he answered. “I’m being summoned.”

“Summoned?” I asked, softly incredulous. “Summoned by who?”

“I suppose you could say my employer,” he answered wryly. There was a hint of amusement in his tone. “Part of my duty, Marion, is to protect the Black Veil. Against Shades mostly. But when one strays too close to a village, for example, I get summoned to take care of it.”

“Then why haven’t you gone?” I asked, squirming to turn in his arms so I could face him. “When you say employer—”

“No more questions, you inquisitive thing,” he said gently, pressing a kiss to my lips. His eyelids were heavy, but his gaze was soft. “I’m not allowed to answer most anyway.”

When he saw the brief flash of frustration cross my features, his expression turned pleading.

“Have patience with me, Marion,” he told me. “This is new to me too. A part of me has been alone this long because of this very reason. Because of what I cannot say. There are codes in your Healers’ Guild. You are bound to oath, as am I.”

When he put it like that…

“All right,” I whispered. I nodded against his chest. “I understand.”

Lorik blew out a breath. Relief? He kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”

“This job of yours…it’s not terribly dangerous, is it?”

Lorik chuckled lowly. “Worried for me?”

“A little,” I admitted.

“I’m very good at what I do, little witch. You don’t have to worry about me.”

I…believed it. I’d seen him dispatch the Shade quickly, even injured as he had been. And his injury to begin with…it must’ve had something to do with this mysterious duty, didn’t it?

“I do have to leave, though,” Lorik said quietly.

I heard the words. I felt them sink into me and felt icy disappointment spread through my limbs, settling in my belly, making me cold.

“When?” I asked, licking my dry lips.

“Tonight,” he answered.

I swallowed, thinking how empty the bed would feel.

“Only for a little while. Then I’ll return to you. I promise.”

Chapter

Seventeen

Two nights later, Lorik returned.

I was doing my nightly chores in the garden, bundled in a thick sweater and fur-lined boots since the frost was coming. My mood was dampened, brooding and somber. I thought it was alarming how quickly I could’ve grown attached to someone, used to their presence in my small, quiet life. I wondered if it was healthy. Logically, I knew I should be wary, but my heart didn’t care.

I wanted Lorik. I missed him. His scent, his mischievous grin, his voice. His kisses, his touches, the way he laid me back on my bed and…

I sighed, ignoring the sudden throb between my thighs. My bed smelled like him, which had led to interesting dreams.

More than that, I worried about him. This mysterious job he had…and who he answered to. He was only just recovered from the poisoned arrow. What if something happened to him? What if he never came back?

As if he’d heard that very last thought as I watered the roots of a wrathweed bundle in the bed, I heard his voice, just as I heard Peek’s warning hiss.

“Thinking of me, little witch?”

I gasped, whirling, half of the water can spilling outside the bed. But when I saw Lorik standing on the boundary of my property line, just beyond the witch’s spell, the can tumbled from my grip and I grinned.

I rushed toward him, and he caught me with a grunt when I accidentally slammed into him a little harder than anticipated.

He felt solid and warm in my arms. I buried my face in his chest, noticing he wore a dark blue vest with subtle silver embroidery and dark pants. In his embrace, I felt a rush of relief so bright that it nearly brought tears springing to my eyes. Then I felt silly, keeping my face pressed to his clothes so he wouldn’t see.

“I missed you too, Marion,” Lorik murmured, his lips brushing the tip of my ear, his breath hot with the words. He ducked his head, tucking me close.

And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so happy.

“We should get out of bed,” I whispered to Lorik two mornings later.

“Mmm, no,” he replied, keeping me tucked into his body. His front was pressed to my back in my tiny bed, and the heat of him banished the morning chill. “Let’s stay here all day. I demand it.”

“Demand it?” I asked, smiling, shifting. A small twinge of soreness bloomed between my legs, and there was a fresh bite mark on my neck. Last night—or rather in the early hours of morning—he’d growled that he wouldn’t heal it, that he wanted to see his mark on me the next day, that nothing would make him more delighted.

Ever since he’d returned, we’d been ravenous for each other. One would think we’d been separated for months, not mere days.

“I suppose I could be enticed to rise,” Lorik murmured, his tone slightly suggestive.

I turned in his arms and propped myself up on my elbow, quirking a brow down at him. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his eyes strayed down my naked front. My breath hitched when he reached forward to rub a calloused thumb over my pebbled nipple. “What would you entice me with?”

“I know exactly what you want,” I said, tone husky from sleep.

Lorik grinned.

“You want those scones I baked yesterday, don’t you? Fresh and hot with red riverberry jam spread on top.”

“Gods, yes,” Lorik groaned. “See? You know me so well already, my love. Let’s go.”

My laugh was cut off with a brisk kiss, and before I knew it, I was flung up from bed, completely naked. Lorik was up too before I could blink, rummaging through my tiny wardrobe, and I watched as he pulled out a thick sweater and soft green pants.

He had my head through the sweater as the material muffled my giggle.

“Been thinking of those damn scones all night,” he grumbled. “You’ve ruined me, Marion.”

He even stooped in front of me to help me put on my pants, sliding his hands up my legs in a thorough way that had me biting my lip. I finished threading my arms through the sleeves of the sweater just as he stood to lace up the pants.

“Now, get in that kitchen, my little witch,” he teased against my lips, nipping at the bottom one with his fang. “Or else it’s back in bed for you, and I promise you I’ll be hungry in other ways that have nothing to do with your scones.”

“Hmm, the kitchen or the bed for me? One would think we’re back in the Graydom era.”

He barked out a sharp laugh. “Believe me, I know how risky this is to tempt your wrath. I’ll make it up to you. But the scones are worth it.”

I shook my head, fighting my smile, and went into the kitchen. Behind me, I heard him dressing. One thing I’d learned about Lorik over the last two days was his charmingly voracious appetite for food and the shameless lengths he went to get it. At this rate, we’d have to go to the market to get more provisions because he’d already eaten through half of my underground cellar.

But I didn’t mind it. Not one bit. The cottage felt vibrant with him here. It felt brighter, despite the winter approaching.

A Kylorr-Allavari male, I realized, must need to eat a lot.

“Tea?” he murmured, coming up behind me as I stood at my small prep counter. He pressed a kiss to my temple, and my belly erupted in flutters.

“All right,” I responded, ducking my head when a huge grin threatened to erupt.

I wasn’t used to be taken care of. But Lorik had taken care of me the last couple days. In more ways than one. He helped me from the moment we woke until we closed our eyes to sleep. From small things like chores to making my tea in the mornings and evenings to helping in the garden. To larger things like completely fixing two of my back windows and clearing out a clogged pipe from the well.

And then at nights—or really anytime the mood struck—he took care of me in other, more satisfying ways. He was an unselfish lover. Last night, he’d murmured into my ear that it turned him on more watching me come apart with his touch.

It felt comfortable between us. Strangely so. Like we’d known each other for years, had lived together for years, had been making love to one another for years…

After Lorik got the kettle on over the hearth, the fire of which he’d stoked with the pile of wood he’d chopped yesterday, he returned to me, leaning against the prep counter, keeping his wings tucked so they didn’t get in my way as I mixed the dough.

He watched me. He was dressed in a soft linen tunic, with long sleeves that went to his wrists and dark brown pants, the leather soft and supple with time. He’d cheekily brought a small bag of spare clothes with him on his return. From where? I didn’t know. And as the days passed, it got both easier and harder to not ask questions. It was a strange tumultuous feeling bubbling up inside me.

But all I knew was that the inside of his wrist was smooth—no magical marking in sight, calling him away. I’d been checking it the last two nights, even in the middle of the night if I woke and Lorik was sleeping.

“What are you thinking about?” he wanted to know now.

“You,” I told him truthfully.

He smiled. He liked that. I could tell.

“I really like you, Marion,” he told me softly. I paused in mixing the dough when he reached forward to tuck back a strand of my hair. For a brief moment, I saw his lips pinch down. “One might even say too much.”

“Even though we barely know each other?” I asked quietly.

He nodded. He swallowed. Hard.

“Sometimes…I wonder if the Kylorr’s deities have been watching over Allavar all this time,” he admitted quietly.

I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling my belly warm with the meaning. Fear sprung up too…but only because this felt real. This felt meaningful and unlike anything I’d ever experienced before.

He was wondering if fated mates were still possible, when he’d told me once he didn’t believe in them. He was wondering if I was his. Bound in blood. Picked for one another by a higher power, one that we didn’t even understand.

“Oh, Lorik,” I breathed.

“Too soon?” he murmured, quirking his lips in a self-deprecating expression. “Maybe. But I don’t want to hide what I feel for you, Marion. Because of what? Fear? No, I don’t believe in that.”

To banish the sudden vulnerability I spied in his eyes, I leaned forward quickly, going up to my tiptoes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He grunted against me, his hand reaching out to circle my waist. Even though my hands were covered in dough, I cupped his cheek in my grip when I leaned back.

“I really like you too, Lorik,” I told him, feeling my throat tighten with fear—but also relief—as I spoke the words. His gaze warmed, molten and soft. “So let’s just see where this goes, all right?”

For a long while, Lorik looked like he wanted to say something. I could see the debate in his eyes, the words held on the very tip of his tongue.

But whatever it was died, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

He looked down between us, his eyes going to the floor, and when he met my gaze again, he gave me a warm smile.

“That sounds perfect,” he said.

Chapter

Eighteen

“Fuck, Marion,” Lorik hissed, biting the fleshy side of his palm, which squeezed against his mouth. “What else do you need fixed in this place?”

I would’ve smiled, maybe even laughed at the slight pleading torment in his voice, but my mouth was stuffed, so full that I could only take in a few inches of his cock.

At first, I’d be hesitant. Shy, even. It had been a long time since I’d pleasured a male like this, and my first lover had once told me I wasn’t even that good at it. That had stung, my self-esteem taking a hit, but Lorik’s reaction just about erased years of shame from that one mean, flippant comment.

Or maybe it’s just the partner I’m with, I couldn’t help but think. Lorik’s own obvious pleasure spurred my own. I wanted to make him feel better than he ever had before. I wanted to make him crazy, I wanted to make him moan and thrash and curse at gods he wasn’t sure existed for me.

He’d already made me come. Now it was his turn, and I wanted him to crave this.

I hummed as I slid my lips down his cock, hollowing my cheeks when I reached my limit.

“Gods,” he groaned. “Marion, I’m going to come soon. I—”

I released his cock with a wet pop and took his length in my hand. Hot and hard, I pumped him, slow and teasing. Silver pre-come was dripping from his tip at a nearly steady rate, the taste of him lingering on my tongue—earthy and musky and delicious.

“Come for me,” I murmured, feeling a distracting throb between my thighs though I ignored it. This was about Lorik. He’d been so generous, and I wanted to return the favor. I’d teased him long enough, however. “I want you to come for me.”

His answering groan sounded pained. His hips began to rock against my grip, steady but greedy. I stroked his length, his slippery pre-come and my saliva making my hand glide.

And when I put my lips over the head of his swollen cock, I sucked hard before tracing the seam with my tongue.

His hips punched forward, a hard jerk that I thought took both of us by surprise, but I only tightened my grip on him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, breath huffing out of him. I could see the gleam of his perspiration through his tunic and felt my hands hit the laces of his untied pants every time I ran them down his cock. There was something so very naughty about this. Him fully clothed, on the verge of coming down my throat. And me on my knees before him, not a stitch of clothing on me.

We hadn’t even made it to the bed. He had his perfect ass wedged against the table, and my knees were pressed to the hard stone floor.

“Marion.”

My name was my only warning falling from his lips, and I sucked harder. His hips jerked, a single harsh breath exhaling from his throat, and then he was unleashing his come onto my waiting tongue. The thick ropes of it were hot. Endless. I swallowed him down as best as I could, though some escaped from my lips, dribbling down to my chin.

All the while, Lorik’s burning gaze was piercing into me. He liked to watch this. I met his eyes as my throat worked, and he whispered something in a language I didn’t recognize, though the roots of which sounded Allavari.

When he gave a final jerk against me and I released him, wiping at my face with the dress he’d nearly torn off me, I leaned back on my heels.

For a long while, it was quiet. The crackling in the hearth was the only sound, besides my own heartbeat in my ears.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Did you like it?” I couldn’t help but ask, suddenly shy, kneeling in front of him, despite what I’d just spent the better of the last twenty minutes doing. My jaw ached from his size, but I needed to hear his praise like I needed air. “If it was bad, you can tell me. I—”

“If it was bad?” Lorik rasped, disbelief in his tone. He straightened, though he didn’t bother to tuck himself into his pants before he crouched in front of me. When he kissed me, I gasped. I tried to turn my head away, but he growled, “It turns me on to taste myself on your tongue. You think I’d not like that?”

“Oh,” I breathed.

“Why in all the Four Quadrants would you believe it was bad?”

“Because…because my first lover told me I was bad at it,” I admitted, half wishing I’d not said anything at all.

Lorik’s gaze narrowed. “Yeah, well, fuck him. His loss. You’re mine now.”

My cheeks heated when Lorik threaded his hand behind the nape of my neck, holding me in place when he kissed me again. My heart thudded.

I’m going to fall in love with him, I thought. And for once, the thought didn’t bring a stab of fear and trepidation with it.

“And for the record,” he murmured against my lips, “I don’t remember the last time I came that fucking hard.”

“Oh,” I whispered, infinitely pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “You want to come again?”

“No,” I said, biting back my smile in fear it might split open my face.

“You sure?” he purred, pressing teasing kisses to my lips.

I laughed. “Yes.”

I pushed at his shoulder, but his hands started to wander.

“All right, let’s go bathe, then,” he said, helping me up into a standing position. My bones protested, my knees reddened from the hard floor, and Lorik brushed his fingers over them. “I’ll get the water hot for you.”

“Thank you.”

A few moments later, we were situated in the small bathing tub, steam curling around us thanks to Lorik’s magic. It was laughable, our position, but somehow we’d made it work. Lorik was behind me, his knees drawn up on both sides of me, and I was tucked into his lap. His hands were caressing my body with a soft kind of reverence, and it was lulling me into a trancelike state.

“You’re not using magic on me, are you?” I asked sleepily.

“No,” he whispered. “Just admiring you.”

I grinned lazily, my eyes half-lidded. When had I ever felt this happy, this content with someone? Well, maybe with Aysia, but obviously in a much different way. But with Lorik…I felt comfortable and comforted. I felt loved, even though even thinking that word made me a little bashful.

“Thank you for fixing the trellis,” I said in the quiet. The washroom was dark. We hadn’t bothered to light the candles, but that was all right. Through the small window, there was just enough light from sunset to illuminate the room, casting it in varying shades of lilac and orange. “I can’t tell you how long it’s been in disrepair.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, taking the cloth from the edge of the tub, dipping it below the surface. “I want to take care of you, Marion. I want to help you however I can.”

“Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true,” I confessed.

Lorik didn’t reply, at least not immediately. He only lathered up the cloth and ran it over the exposed parts of my body before he explored underneath the water.

“I fear one day you’ll think quite differently about me.”

“Why?” I asked. “Planning to steal all my potions like the last one did?”

He exhaled a sharp breath, but I couldn’t tell if it was in amusement or not.

“Where I grew up,” he murmured quietly after a brief silence lapsed, “is much different from Rolara. And my father was a very strict male. He had a strong sense of morality, of good and bad. For someone like him, there was no in-between. He couldn’t see the differing shades of both, the spectrum of it, even how it can change from one moment to the next. Once you wronged him, you wronged him forever. And he never forgot it, even for his children.”

I listened with almost bated breath, fearing that if I made a single move he would get skittish and stop speaking.

“I don’t want to be like that,” he admitted. “That severe. There is no room for mistakes with someone like that. And all people make mistakes. Even if they think they’re right, someone else will think they’re wrong.”

The back of my neck prickled with something I heard in his voice. Almost like…an apology.

“I imagine that must’ve been difficult growing up,” I said quietly, wishing I could see his face, but he kept me tucked into his front and we both stared at the wall as our words drifted around us. Maybe it was better like this.

“There was very little time to grow up” was what he replied.

“You said you knew you had a purpose. You always knew what you would become,” I commented.

“Yes, because of my family’s legacy. My father was what I am now. My duty was once his. As was my grandmother’s, my grandfather’s, and even before them. The line stretches back far. One of us had to take on the duty of it.”

“One of us?” I asked quietly.

“My sister. Or my brother at one time,” he said. “But it was not what my sister wanted, or even what she was suited for. And my brother…he died long ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t realize you had lost a sibling as well.”

“My father takes on most of the grief these days. He died on a hunt with my father, tracking down a rogue Shade in the north. My brother and I were both trained for the hunts. I just think my father expected it would be Denon to take his position, not me.”

I filed away his brother’s name in my mind. Denon.

“You want to know the worst part?” he murmured into my ear. “I think my father wishes it was me, not Denon, who had died that day.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered, not caring that Lorik held me in place for a reason. I struggled to turn in his arms, not caring that there was very little room and that my back ached as I twisted to meet his eyes. “Lorik, don’t say that.”

“If you ever met my father, you might think differently,” he pointed out.

His eyes were glowing vibrantly. I could never understand why they did that, if Lorik was simply strumming with magic, if it had to me with me—he’d told me how easily he felt his magic with me—or the cottage—he’d also said that he could feel the magic in the earth of my land.

“I think he hates how good I am at it,” Lorik continued, that gaze burning into mine, and I witnessed a side of him I’d never experienced before. His anger. His vulnerability. His hurt. “But I also think he hates himself for it.”

“What?”

“I told you…he is only guided by what is right and what is wrong. The code he lives by, the code he’s sworn his entire life to. His morals tell him that he cannot wish death on his other son. What kind of father would he be, then? And he struggles.”

“And…and your sister?”

“Thela,” he whispered. There was sadness in his tone. “We all would do anything for Thela. She is the good in us all. The best of us all.”

There was something I was missing. I could hear it. His tone almost sounded like he was grieving for her.

“Is she…she’s not dead, is she?”

Lorik’s eyes met mine. Back and forth they flit between them. His brow was furrowed. The sudden change of him was jarring. Even his features seemed sharper, reminding me of that mirage I’d seen when we’d first made love. Gone was the relaxed man who stroked my body gently or whose smile came easy. This was Lorik too. The side he hid. Because he didn’t want me to see?

But didn’t he understand? I wanted to know all of him. I wanted to know every little thing about him, about his upbringing, about his family, about everything that made him smile or what made him angry.

“No,” he whispered. “She’s not dead.”

I pressed my hand to his chest and was surprised when I felt his heart pumping hard beneath it.

“Lorik?” I asked quietly. “What is it? You can tell me—you know that, don’t you?”

His eyes closed, and the blue glow from his eyes faded, sinking us further into darkness. I hadn’t realized that the sunset’s light had gradually begun to fade. Now the washroom was entirely too dark without his eyes.

“She’s sick,” he murmured.

I straightened. “Sick? With what?”

“An ancient thing,” he said, his eyes opening once more. “And no one can help her. Unless…”

“Unless what?” I asked. “Maybe I can help her. Maybe I can—”

He sucked in a sharp breath, his wrist jerking between us. Frowning, my brow furrowed, I watched his gaze go to his inner wrist.

Knowing what it was, I pressed my lips together, already feeling a restlessness take hold.

Whatever it was that Lorik saw, his jaw tightened and he looked at me.

“Maybe I can help her,” I said again, feeling desperation claw in my throat. “If I can see her, maybe—”

“I have to go, Marion,” Lorik replied.

“What?”

“This summons…it’s urgent,” he confessed softly. “I have to go.”

“Now?”

His lips pressed into a hard line, and despite the heat in the bathing tub, I suddenly felt cold. He inclined his head sharply.

“Oh,” I whispered. Then I realized I was sitting on him and scrambled to get off. “Of course. I understand.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And to his credit, it sounded like it. His jaw was tight, his teeth gritted as he stood from the tub, water sluicing off him.

“Will—will you be back?” I asked.

He must’ve heard the vulnerability in my tone because he said harshly, earnestly, “Of course, Marion. Of course I’ll be back. I just need… I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. But I will be back.”

In my mind, I thought, And how much longer will we be able to keep each other when he is always pulled somewhere else?

Lorik leaned down to press a hard kiss to my lips.

“Wait for me?” he asked against my lips. “Then we can continue this conversation, I promise.”

How long? I wondered.

“All right,” I whispered, looking up at him when he pulled away. “Be careful.”

“I always am, little witch.”

Then he was gone. I heard him dress, I heard the front door to my cottage close. And I was alone again, sitting in the tub that was still hot with his magic.

I was alone again…only this time it felt so much worse.

Chapter

Nineteen

Market day in Rolara had always been something I’d dreaded. A necessity, though I’d always felt the lingerings of guilt when villagers lined up near my usual stall before I even arrived.

I should enjoy this more, I’d always thought as I’d lugged my cart of potions all the way from the Black Veil into the village. Every month, like clockwork. People depended on my potions. They made their lives better. And it did make me content. There was a sense of pride in my work.

But I was no longer the fresh-faced, starry-eyed recruit in the Healers’ Guild as I once had been. I’d hidden myself away after Aysia’s tragic death, unable to take the whispers and pitying looks that followed me everywhere I went. I was comfortable in the Black Veil, comfortable in my solitude with my glowflies and Peek for company.

Every month, as I lugged my cart to the market, there was a sense of duty now. Duty because I was a keeper of glowflies and the keeper of the rarest of them all—shadevines. Duty because I’d taken an oath, bound in magic. Duty because…well, I needed the money to keep my cottage running, to buy any provisions I needed, and to pay the witch for the monthly protection spell.

So, no, I didn’t enjoy going to the market under normal circumstances.

But today?

Today, I hurried from the Black Veil at the crack of dawn and made for Rolara.

When I’d first encountered Lorik all those months ago, when he’d sauntered up to my stall with a mischievous smirk, his keen eyes scanning my table, covered in a cloth with holes in it…that day had begun to make market days a little more interesting. Because I always knew he’d be there. I’d had a silly, childish, fun crush on the mysterious Kylorr-Allavari male…

Only now I knew him. I knew he was as charming as he looked. I knew he could kiss me until I felt like I was floating and that he made my tea perfectly in the mornings. I knew the way his arms felt around me, how they made me feel safe and protected.

I knew I liked him and he liked me too. And I knew that I was in danger of falling in love with him. And I knew he’d left me in the washing tub nearly four days ago and he hadn’t come back…

My heart was in turmoil, a maelstrom of emotions. Elation and hope that I could see him today—because he’d always been at the market days. Disappointment and hurt because I felt abandoned, with no indication of when I’d see him next.

When I reached the town’s outskirts, I saw that the banners and streamers signaling the market day had been put up overnight. Colorful ribbons that danced in the cold breeze. Most of the vendors during the event had their own shops in the village…but there was a sense of community and excitement surrounding the market, a small celebration in itself to close out the end of every month. There would be music and dancing and food. And overpriced items that you could buy for half the following day in the village.

I wasn’t the only one to arrive early, and I nodded at the familiar faces as I passed. I’d arrived so early today that there wasn’t a line for once in my usual place, and I felt a sense of relief. I could take my time this morning, arrange things just so.

And most importantly, I could keep an eye out for Lorik.

But the morning came and went. Lorik didn’t show. He was nowhere to be seen. And in between fulfilling orders and stashing away coins in my pouch, chatting with customers who always asked probing questions about the Black Veil and how I could stand to live in such a desolate empty place, and dodging any sympathetic comments about my sister—which I still received even now…I never saw him once.

As the morning stretched into the afternoon, I started to get worried. He’d never missed a market day, and he’d said his summoning was urgent. What if something had gone wrong? What if…what if he was injured?

I sold the last of my potions long before the market was over. And still, I sat at my stall. I ventured over a food stand selling smoked-meat sandwiches with root chips, and it tasted like ash in my mouth. I wandered the market, my purse of coins clinking noisily against my hip, though I tried to keep it muffled so a brazen thief didn’t get any ideas.

But as vendors began to pack up their carts, I felt a slump of defeat, worry, and disappointment. And I began to do the same.

I finished quickly, now eager to leave because the dark could come soon and I didn’t want to trek through the Black Veil at night. But I could hear the crunch of footsteps behind me as someone approached.

“I’m all out of everything,” I told them when they cleared their throat. I had my back turned, had been used to saying the words all afternoon. “I’m sorry.”

“Never thought I’d hear those words coming from your lips, Marion,” came a familiar voice.

My teeth grit, a surge of distaste going through me, even though I’d decided to try to move on.

Remember what you decided, I told myself.

When I turned, I saw Veras there. His guard stood a handful of paces away, giving us the illusion of privacy.

“Veras,” I greeted as politely as I could manage. Just because I’d decided to move on…it didn’t mean I had to like him. I likely never would.

His smile was small, his eyes assessing as he studied me and my cleared table. I imagine other females would find him very attractive—Aysia certainly had—but I just felt nauseous thinking about him in that way.

“Good day at the market?” he asked.

“It always is,” I said back, raising a brow. When his lips quirked, I blew out a small breath, casting a look to the sky, at the sinking sun. “Habit. Seeing your face just brings out the bitch in me.”

Veras barked out a sharp laugh. “I’m one of the only Allavari who wouldn’t take offense to you telling me to fuck off, Marion. For others? Not so much.”

“Why are you here?” I asked, ignoring what went unspoken—that he treated me differently than he treated others. Because of Aysia. “Market days aren’t usually your priority as you make your rounds.”

“I told you before—I’ve always watched out for you, Marion.”

“But you never needed to show your face to do it,” I said back, tossing the hole-ridden tablecloth into my empty cart. I needed to speak to the witch before I left, to schedule her to come to the Black Veil soon, and I was suddenly impatient to leave.

“I’ll walk you back,” he said after a lengthy silence. He wasn’t dressed in his usual clothes. He looked almost…casual. Gray pants and a black coat, though both were still expertly tailored with a talented hand. His boots even had a scuff on them. “It’s getting dark.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not asking,” he murmured, his eyes straying behind me to the line of trees in the distance. “The Black Veil has seen more and more Severs coming through.”

I jerked my head up to him. “What do you mean?”

“Just that the activity is increasing,” he told me, his gaze returning to mine. “My guard and I will escort you back to your property line. We won’t step foot inside. Then I’ll leave. You don’t even have to speak to me on the journey, but there is something I want to say to you.”

I knew it, I thought, both worried about what he’d tell me for Lorik’s sake and annoyed because he likely wanted something from me. An antidote for one of his men, perhaps? He’d asked before.

“I don’t have any more night nettle for antidotes,” I informed him.

“It’s not that,” he said, smiling.

“I still have to talk to the witch.”

He shook his head. “I’ll pass on your request to her tonight. I’ll be in that direction anyway for a dinner party.”

I hesitated for only a moment more. The sky was darkening quite rapidly over our heads—and it looked like a storm might’ve even been brewing—and I didn’t want any trouble home.

“Fine,” I told him. “You can escort me home. But don’t think I’ll serve you tea afterward. You leave when we get there.”

“Can I visit her grave at least?” he wondered.

I exhaled a sharp breath, a soft note in his voice making me feel guilty.

“Yes.”

“Did you…did you give her the wreath?” he asked next.

“Yes,” I said, sighing. “I did.”

“Thank you,” he murmured. I nodded and went to take the handles of my cart. “Emell will get the cart—don’t worry about it.”

His guard, I realized when the hulking Kylorr stepped forward, inclining his head at me. I let it be—there was nothing worth stealing in it anyway—and walked toward the boundary of the Black Veil.

Vendors packing up their wares observed us as we passed, but I kept my head down to avoid their stares. Veras, however, smiled and greeted everyone we passed. Ever charming, keeping up appearances. I nearly snorted.

When we entered the line of the forest, Rolara faded away and there was a sense of relief that wiggled through my bones. Veras, however, seemed on edge. He didn’t like the Black Veil. Which was ironic because I’d always thought he, out of anyone, should feel the most at home in its dark, rotting depths.

But instead…it was me.

Behind us, I heard Emell pull the cart over a fallen log, but Veras got right to it.

“Where’s your lover?” he asked. “Lorik, isn’t it?”

Veras knew perfectly well what his name was.

“You wanted to talk to me about Lorik?” I clarified, casting him an observing look. He slid his arm through a canopy of low-hanging vines from the tree above, like he was parting a curtain for me, and I stepped through it.

“Yes,” he said. “I wanted to warn you about him.”

I stilled on the unmarked path, though I knew the way to my cottage like the back of my hand. Turning to face him, I leveled him a look with narrowed eyes. I was torn. One part of me wanted to defend Lorik, to tell Veras to stay out of my business. The other part? He knew something about Lorik that I didn’t. Something I wanted to know…but it would betray Lorik’s trust if I asked, wouldn’t it?

But he’d been gone for four days. I hadn’t heard a single thing, not a delivered note or a scrap of a message. I didn’t even know when I’d see him again because he’d given me nothing.

“I don’t know where he is,” I said, answering his question. There was no harm in answering a question wasn’t it? “He didn’t tell me.”

“Ah,” Veras murmured.

I started walking again, but I didn’t hear the creak of my cart nor Veras’s footsteps as he followed.

“Lorik is a Sever, Marion.”

Chapter

Twenty

Ifroze.

Ice pierced my blood at the words, my belly churning with disbelief. And yet…

I’d thought it myself once, hadn’t I? The possibility?

Veras stepped up beside me, and I felt his warm hand on my arm.

“How…how do you know that?”

My sister’s once-in-a-lifetime love exhaled a sharp breath though his nostrils before his eyes scanned the dark forest in front of us.

“Tell me,” I demanded.

“Do you know where the portal to the Below is?” Veras asked.

“No,” I said, still reeling from his confession. I didn’t want to believe it…and yet it still rang true in my ears. “Of course not.”

“I do,” Veras told me. “And I’ve seen Lorik Ravael coming and going often over the years. I tracked him once. One of the best trackers in all of Allavar—Lorik never even knew he was there.”

“Why did you have him tracked?”

“A stranger turns up in Rolara. No one knows him. No one knows where he came from. There’s an air about him that told me he was different. Dangerous. Despite what you think, I do what I can to protect Rolara from outsiders.”

“Oh, really? Like the Jetutians you brought on planet?”

“Marion,” Veras said, gritting his teeth, a brief flash of anger flitting over his face, though he kept it controlled.

I glared.

“I had him followed,” Veras said, ignoring my barb, “years ago. I saw him entering the portal. It suddenly made sense. Severs have been among us for years. Much more often than the ignorantly blissful villagers back there would like to think.”

“What?” I whispered, my lips parting. “But…wouldn’t they be noticed?”

“Did it ever cross your mind that Lorik could be a Sever?” Veras asked, cocking his head to the side. I pressed my lips together. “How about…your old shopkeeper friend? Merec? That was his name, wasn’t it?”

“Merec,” I repeated, dumbstruck.

Lorik had said…gods, he’d said that Merec had been friends with his father, that his debt had been to a Sever. He’d told me the truth of it, hadn’t he? Only I hadn’t really understood what he’d been telling me.

“Severs have been living among us for over two hundred years, and very few even know,” Veras told me, his tone almost…gentle. “That is what power buys you, Marion. Knowledge. And it’s a priceless thing. A veil lifted from your own eyes.”

I stumbled forward a few steps, dragging in a deep breath. The sunlight from above the canopies was fading fast. Darkness was falling in the Black Veil, but I was rooted into place like the trees around me.

“And I think you deserve to have it lifted from yours,” Veras told me. “So you can see him for he clearly is.”

“Even…even if he is a Sever…he’s not a Shade.”

“Ah, so he has told you something,” he murmured. “He might not be a Shade, Marion, but he’s even more dangerous. Severs…”

He trailed off, and I looked back at him curiously when I heard his hesitation.

“It’s in their best interest to make us all believe Shades are Severs. Monsters in the dark to help protect their world, their precious portal. Stories that have been circulating for years to frighten children and keep villagers on their toes. To keep them away from the Black Veil.”

“There are dangers here,” I said quietly. “I’ve seen them.”

“I never said there weren’t,” Veras replied. “But Severs protect their world because it’s better. Their magic runs freely, an untapped well of magic in the Below.”

My lips parted, understanding dawning. Lorik was powerful indeed. Was that why?

“And they don’t want the Above dwellers to know. As our magic fades from the land, as our crops fail and our talents begin to wither.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered, though my voice held no true conviction. “They aren’t taking it from us. We’ve just…forgotten how to channel it.”

Veras smiled. “Is that what your lover told you? And tell me, Marion, what’s in his best interest?”

I went quiet, my heart pounding in my chest with this influx of new information. Things I didn’t want to believe because that meant that Lorik had lied about a lot more than I even imagined to believe.

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“Power, like I told you,” Veras told me. “Lorik is dangerous, Marion. He’s the right hand of the Below King—a powerful position. A hunter. A mercenary. And they’re up to something, something even my spies cannot discern because it is kept close to the royal court. Don’t let him keep you in the dark. In fact, it’s better if you stay away from him entirely.”

Veras came to stand in front of me. He tilted my chin up so that I met his eyes. I was reeling, so shocked that I didn’t even react to his touch. I was frozen in place, and I felt…betrayed. I felt like a fool.

“I never had a sister,” he said quietly. “I told you before—we are bound by our love for her, Marion. For Aysia. Forever. And so you are the closest thing to a sister I will ever have.”

I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by everything. This was too much. It was too much.

“I know you don’t want me to look after you, but I promised Aysia that I would.”

“You…you did?” I whispered.

He nodded, his expression solemn. “So take my words to heart. This is not a path you want to travel. They are infinitely more powerful than us…and they have a lot more to lose. He hasn’t told you anything else, has he?”

I jerked my chin back and took a step away. “I’m not one of your spies, Veras,” I said, keeping my voice even, letting him know I knew what he was doing. “But no, he hasn’t.”

His sister, I thought. Or had that been a lie?

Either way, I wouldn’t tell Veras that. Some habits died hard, despite his pretty words about Aysia. I still didn’t trust him. And after this conversation, I certainly didn’t trust Lorik.

“You’re…you’re absolutely certain of Lorik?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. “I mean absolutely certain?”

Veras tilted his chin back. “On Aysia, I swear it.”

So, it was the truth. Or at least a truth that Veras believed, and I knew that Veras wasn’t a blundering fool. He was smart, cunning.

I said nothing else. There was nothing else to say.

Instead, I turned in the direction of my cottage as thoughts raced through my mind. And I kept on walking…because I wasn’t sure what else I could do.

Chapter

Twenty-One

The next night, it was Peek’s sudden, warbling hiss that had me standing from my chair. His back was arched, fur standing on end, ears pricked forward.

It had been storming all day, a torrential downpour of icy rain that stung my skin, but right then it was a light pattering on my roof. For a moment I thought there might be a Shade outside. Peek never reacted like that unless there was danger near.

But when I went to my window and glimpsed out, my heart stopped in my chest.

Lorik.

Standing on the edge of my property, his clothing soaked, hair plastered to his skull.

He saw me looking through the window, but he didn’t make a step toward the cottage. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my heaviest shawl from the peg near the door and stuffed my feet into my boots.

I’d been in a daze since my talk with Veras yesterday evening. I’d run through nearly every interaction I’d ever had with Lorik, starting from the beginning, analyzing every conversation we’d had. What he’d said about the Below, about Severs, about Shades, about Allavari.

And what I’d come to realize was that I didn’t know anything at all.

Veras had been right. It was like a veil being pulled back from your eyes. How could you ever go back?

Before I stepped foot outside, my gaze caught on my chest near the door. I hesitated a mere moment…but then I grabbed a small dagger and hid it in the pleats of the shawl.

The chill outside was bone-numbing, but I trudged toward Lorik, my mouth set in a thin line. I didn’t know what I would say to him. I’d tried to plan it all out, but the words stuck in my brain. Like a funnel, they all got clogged up toward the end.

Lorik hadn’t taken a step forward. For a moment, I wondered about that. He was inside the barrier spell, but he hadn’t taken a step toward the cottage.

When I could make out his face in the dark, I saw that he looked tired. There was a hardness in his features—one that softened briefly when he first saw me—that hadn’t been there before. He seemed in no hurry to get inside from the rain, not that I would let him. I needed answers. I needed them tonight.

No more hiding. No more fear.

I stopped when we were a few arms’ lengths apart. The hilt of my small dagger felt hot in my palm despite the cold.

Lorik studied me. The longer he studied me, the more realization settled into the lines of his features, deepening his frown, the space between his brow growing darker when he furrowed it.

“Marion.”

I felt something crack in me at my name.

“Why can’t you take a step toward me?” I asked.

His jaw ticked. He looked down at the ground between us, and I wondered what he saw.

“Is it because what you said is true? That Peek really does protect me from Severs?”

Lorik’s head rose slowly, his eyes beginning to glow blue.

Finally, he said, “Your braydus drew its own barrier here. You’ve changed your mind about me. Peek senses it and will not let me cross.”

How could I have been such a fool?

“So many things that I willfully ignored,” I said quietly. “Why? Because I was lonely? Because I was that desperate for affection and intimacy and touch?”

“Marion…” Lorik rasped, running a hand through his slick hair, combing it back away from his face. Rain shimmered across his cheekbones as moonlight filtered into the clearing.

And I didn’t know who he was at all.

Then he sighed, a rough exhale. I watched the light shift off his face. That familiar shimmering I’d only caught glimpses of, writing them off as a trick of the light. Then, with parted lips, I watched as his features changed, his body growing slightly larger, slightly taller.

Another veil dropping from my eyes.

Him.

It was that image I’d caught when we’d first made love. His features were sharper, more beautiful, more cutting. The tips of his ears were like knives, and his ethereal blue eyes glowed even brighter. His jawline widened. His skin silvered even more, practically glowing in its luminosity.

“Magicked glamour,” he explained, though his voice didn’t change. “Difficult to hold, and it takes energy. It’s why the infection took root…because I was using most of my strength to sustain the glamour, even in my sleep.”

“Who even are you?” I whispered. I feared my words would be carried away by the sudden gusting of wind, bringing in another dark cloud bank from the west.

“I’m the same as I was, Marion,” Lorik said, attempting to step forward, to reach forward…but he hit something. Peek’s magic. Peek’s barrier. He’d been telling the truth about one thing at the very least…and I’d never even known. “I swear that to you.”

“No, I never knew you,” I said, my shoulders dropping. “Lies upon lies. And maybe you didn’t outright lie to my face, Lorik. But you certainly weaved. And avoided. Anything not to tell me the truth.”

“I am bound by oath, Marion,” he insisted, a pleading note entering his tone. His face was the same, but the structure was all different. More rugged, more roughly handsome than the delicate Allavari features I’d come to know. “I cannot say things without punishment.”

I certainly understood that. But there were ways around it…and he’d never even tried to help me understand.

“Tell me the truth now.”

His sharp jaw tightened. There was a scar just underneath his chin, a scar that hadn’t been there before, one he’d hidden with this glamour. I remembered what Veras had told me, that Severs had been living among us for a lot longer than anyone realized…and perhaps this was how.

Because no one would look at Lorik in his true form and not know there was something otherworldly about him.

He was Allavari and he was Kylorr…but he was much, much more. His bloodline must’ve run back generations.

“Marion,” he said quietly.

“The truth. Or I walk back into my cottage and we will never speak again. Whatever oath you took be damned—I deserve to know the truth, Lorik.”

I wondered what his punishment would be. I wondered what the magic would take of him. I understood blood oaths. I’d taken one myself. If I didn’t help someone when I knew they were in need…I would feel their pain acutely.

Maybe that was part of why I’d hidden myself away in the Black Veil. Because it was easier to ignore others’ suffering. Because it was no great risk to me. I hated the cowardly part of myself. But Lorik had been the last person I’d helped…and look where that had gotten me.

With the oath in mind, I didn’t expect the truth from him. Not truly.

And so I began to turn away. It would feel like an unfinished chapter in my life, but I would accept that to spare my heart. I’d always told myself to never fall in love. Love only brought pain. Suffering. In Aysia’s case, death.

Fool, I thought, fighting back tears, feeling that empty loneliness creeping back inside me as I remembered how content I’d felt lying next to Lorik in my small bed. Of hearing his breathing and feeling his heart against my back. Of memorizing the veins in his wings and the way his eyes gleamed when he was looking at me.

They were things I didn’t need to remember because it would make the loss of him hurt all the more.

“I’m a Sever, Marion.”

I froze, not looking at him but not quite leaving either.

“Though we call ourselves Kelvarians, not Severs. That’s an old word, a distasteful one to us.”

The rain began to pick up, icy pinpricks on my flesh, sliding down my cheeks like tears.

“I was born in the Below. It is my home. It is where I live. It is what I know,” Lorik went on. His voice almost took on a trancelike property, and I found myself looking over my shoulder at him, studying the conflict over his changed features. “I am the Below King’s Hunter. A high position in his court, and I do whatever he tasks me with, for the safety and security of our home. My father was the Hunter before me, his father before him. It was my purpose after my brother died. That is what I am.”

I turned to face him but didn’t take a step forward to close some of the gap between us.

“For such a high-ranking position in his court, why bother coming to the Above world at all?”

Lorik exhaled sharply. “Shades come from our world. They are a product of us, of a darker time and history in the Below. It didn’t seem right to let them run freely in your world, when we knew their potential and their crimes.”

“Then why come to the villages?” I asked. “Shades stay in the Black Veil, don’t they?”

“For the most part, yes,” Lorik replied, studying me carefully. “I wanted to know the villages better. I’d heard stories of the Above for most of my life—tales from my mother. I was curious. And I found they weren’t as terrible as they’d always been described to us.”

I released a shaky breath.

“And then…I saw a human woman at a market day in Rolara,” he continued, his voice softening. “With beautiful hair, the color of which I’d never seen before, and soft, almost sad eyes…and I wanted to know more about her.”

“Don’t,” I whispered, shaking my head.

“That’s why I came to Rolara, Marion,” he said…but I didn’t know if I could believe him. I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“And the arrow?” I asked, hardening my voice. “The poisoned arrow?”

His features shuttered, a brief flash of shame appearing until he smoothed it from his expression with furrowed brow, lines appearing between them.

“I need something from you,” he told me quietly.

“What?” I asked, surprised. Then I laughed. “What could you possibly…”

Realization hit.

“Oh,” I said. A flash of bitterness rose in me. I laughed, but it sounded like a choke. “You’re no better than the rest of them, are you?”

Lorik’s expression was pained. Again, he tried to step forward before he remembered himself. “It’s not like that—I need you to believe me. Just let me explain.”

“Then explain,” I said. “And don’t you dare lie.”

“The arrow…the injury…the poisoning…it was all planned,” Lorik said, the words released in a rush, like a purging. “From the very beginning.”

I stared at him, hardly registering his words. My heart thudded in my ears until I could barely hear anything else.

“But please, Marion, know that I never acted the way I did…I never pretended when I was with you,” Lorik said quickly, his words a dizzying rush.

“All you did was pretend,” I said, my tone hollow. “Were you truthful about anything?”

“About the way I feel about you, yes!” he urged. “But you have to understand this is bigger than me. The entire Below is threatened, Marion. This wasn’t about what I wanted. This was my duty, to help my people, my family.”

I looked away from him, to glance into the Black Veil. I wondered how far the portal was from my cottage. Was it near where I’d found him, leaning against a tree, an arrow in his shoulder?

“The arrow was planned. I ordered one of my huntsman to strike me with it,” he confessed. “I knew your healer’s oath. I took advantage of that. Even the poison was taken into account…I knew you would send me on my way if it was a mere flesh wound. I needed to…”

“You needed to get close to me so that I would do what you wanted,” I finished for him, the ugly truth tumbling from my lips. “You manipulated me. You tricked me. You used me. You made me like you so that in the end, I would do what you wanted.”

Lorik’s eyes closed briefly, his features scrunching up, his breaths coming fast.

“The shadevine queen, right?” I guessed. “That’s what you want. That’s what they always want.”

Lorik met my eyes, that glow illuminating the sprinkling of rain between us.

“Not the queen,” he murmured. “I need the hive heart.”

I choked out a laugh of disbelief, and it sounded like a sob.

“The heart. Without it, the queen will abandon the hive. All her glowflies will die without the heat. All the shadevines will wither in the garden,” I told him, numbness beginning to take root.

“I know,” he murmured quietly. “But many will die without it.”

“Why not just steal it?”

“The heart needs to be freely given,” he rasped.

“Why?” I asked, my tone chipped like ice.

“Our most powerful Kelvarian sorceress demands it for her spell,” Lorik told me, his shoulders sagging slightly, his wings dipping into the wet, mushy soil beneath him. “The hive heart must be freely given.”

“So that’s why you needed the deception. That’s why you pretended to—”

“I never pretended, Marion,” Lorik snapped. “I was disappointed that it had to be you.”

I flinched.

“Not in that way. Fuck!” Lorik cursed, bringing a hand up to his horn. “I was agonizing over what needed to be done. For weeks. But you are the only one—the only one—who possesses a shadevine hive. No other healers’ guild, no glowfly keeper within two week’s flying distance has one. Because, believe me, I searched. It was a miracle that you have one. It had to be you. And I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to betray you, Marion, but this was the only choice. The only way to save my people.”

I turned from him.

“Marion!”

He thought I was leaving, but I only paced a short distance away before I rounded back.

“What’s the spell for?” I demanded. “You said people would die?”

Lorik opened his mouth, words perched on the edge on his tongue. Was this what he couldn’t tell me? What his oath was bound to? Or had he already broken it?

“Kelvarians created Shades. Long ago,” he told me, his tone grave. “I told you we have a dark history with Shades. It…it wasn’t right. It was a terrible thing, a sordid past that not many speak about today. But something is happening in the Below, little witch.”

I bit my cheek at the pet name he’d given me. Once meant to tease, it felt like a caress. Only now? It was one I didn’t want.

“Someone powerful is creating Shades again with the same dark magic that opened the portal to the Below over two hundred years ago. It’s a sickness, a plague that’s spreading through our city and the surrounding villages. My sister…”

My breath squeezed from my lungs. His sister? He’d said she was sick. It had been with this?

Or it’s another lie, I couldn’t help but think, bitterness and anger eating me up.

“My sister started showing the signs of it nearly a month ago. She took a turn for the worse. That’s why I had to leave, Marion. Why I was called back so urgently. Why I’ve been gone. This dark magic…it’s almost consumed her. And once it does, there’s no way to go back. There’s no cure for this. Only death would be a relief. She would spend the rest of her days like a ghost. She wouldn’t be able to speak, food would taste like ash in her mouth, she would no longer feel the warmth of moonlight, and love would wither away in her chest.”

What he spoke of…could something horrible like that exist?

But then I remembered the Shade we’d encountered, very near to where Lorik was now. Lorik had told me the Shade had wanted to die. He’d said it was a mercy.

“I cannot see my sister go through that,” Lorik confessed. “I would do anything to help her. To help all the Kelvarians who are afflicted with this cruel spell. Even if it means you hate me for it, Marion. Because this is bigger than us, even if I wish, out of all the people in this world, that you weren’t the one who has exactly what I need.”

I didn’t know why I believed him.

But I did. I believed that he was telling me the truth about whatever was happening in the Below. Maybe that made me the biggest fool in the entire universe. Maybe that was why I didn’t trust anyone…because maybe I trusted too easily at first and never learned my lesson.

I heard the sad truth in Lorik’s voice. I saw it in his glowing eyes and in the pinching frown on his face, his features strange yet familiar to me.

I’d had the shadevine hive for years, had tended to it for years. The loss of it would feel like a dagger to my own chest…but how could I be that selfish?

“Wait here,” I said, my voice hollow. “Not that Peek would let you cross.”

Then I did what I knew was right, even if it hurt. With ice in my heart, I approached the night garden, walking beneath the trellised entrance with slow steps. Only some of the glowflies were out in this storm—the majority of them were hunkered in their warm hives.

I approached the shadevine hive, trying to keep my tears from spilling down my cheeks. I hated what I had to do, but I’d always known…I would always sacrifice my glowflies for Allavari lives. Or apparently Kelvarian lives too.

Without a second thought, my cold hand shot into the hive, securing my fist around the warm heart—spongy in texture, the home of the queen—which seemed to beat under my palm with its magic. I could feel the glowflies wiggling against my hand, confused and agitated.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. Then I plucked out the heart. The queen was inside, and I watched her crawl out as the storm picked up. She stung me on the back of my hand, the prick worse than a dagger—making me hiss in pain and bite my lip to keep from crying out—and then she disappeared…flying off into the night.

Gone. Just like that.

The rest of the glowflies buzzed around me, a halo of blue light like Lorik’s eyes. None of them stung me, however—only their queen had. I watched as they flew in dizzying circles, desperate in their confusion.

Lorik was watching me with sad eyes when I returned to him. The heart in my hand felt spongy. It felt soft and warm—a living, magical thing that I had stolen. Was this freely given when I had taken it?

“Here,” I said, keeping my voice even, despite the tears that rolled down my face. Grief built in my chest. For my glowflies, for Lorik’s betrayal, and for the strange sense of loss and heartbreak I felt.

Peek’s barrier kept him from reaching forward, so I stretched out the hive heart to him. He took it, his fingertips brushing mine. I snatched my hand back when he made to reach for it.

“Take it,” I told him.

“Marion—“

“But I never want to see you again,” I said, cutting him off. “Good luck.”

And goodbye, I thought silently.

Then I turned…and I didn’t look back.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

“Take two drops in some tea every evening, all right?” I told the elderly Allavari woman. I stoppered the vial, making sure the seal was tight. “It’ll help with your mobility.”

“Does it matter which tea?” she wondered, a concerned look on her face as I helped her stand from the bench. The soothing light of the guild hall’s front room was golden, meant to replicate fire light. It was calming, but I remembered Eymaris as always being a worrier. She hadn’t changed in nearly ten years. “Because I cannot stomach that tea blend the shops stock. Tastes like flowers! Who wants to drink flowers?”

I bit back my sigh and gave her a soft smile instead, ushering her to the door since I needed to get back to my cottage.

“Any tea will do,” I assured her, opening the door, watching her clutch the black bottle of concentrated lovery leaf oil and night nettle, my own special blend, like her life depended on it. “Try the skyberry one. They have it at Griffel’s shop.”

“Griffel’s,” Eymaris repeated, as if she needed to speak it to remember it. She gave a long sigh. “I’ll go now and see if they have any. I simply cannot stand that flower tea.”

I bit back my smile. “Hurry, then, before they close. Remember—just two drops in the tea.”

“Two drops,” she repeated.

I watched her walk down the cobbled pathway, my lungs squeezing a little when she stumbled over a dislodged rock before she managed to catch herself. She went on her way, and I set out to the path, stamping down the rock and covering it with a heavy layer of soil to keep the edges close to the ground.

When I looked up at the sky, I saw night was approaching and fast. And so I went back inside the Healers’ Guild hall, made sure everything was in order in the front room before I left. The next healer scheduled would arrive in mere moments, and I had no more patients for the evening.

As I walked through Rolara at dusk, I admired the brightly lit shop windows, calmed by the thud of my boots on the paved roads, and took in the chatter from passing families and the laughter pouring through windows.

It had been my favorite time of day in the last two weeks, ever since I’d given Lorik the hive heart. The time where the world quieted, people returned to their families, shops closed their doors, and warm light illuminated the darkening streets.

“Good evening, Marion,” called a familiar voice. Gwilor, an older Kylorr male who I had treated at the guild hall the week prior.

“Evening,” I greeted back as we passed, giving him a small smile.

Another called out to me toward the end of the street. Winnand, an Allavari-Ernitian female, with thick, long blue hair and yellow eyes. She was a baker of Ernitian delicacies and had sliced her hand open on a sharp knife a few days ago.

“How’s it healing?” I asked as we passed.

She held up her palm, flashing me a smile. It hadn’t quite deep been enough to require stitching, but I was pleased with the progress.

“Almost back to normal!” she reported. “I’ll drop off some pastries at the guild hall for you tomorrow. The ones I told you about.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I told her. I smiled and waved her off, my strides a little more upbeat. Even as I passed Grimstone’s Tavern tonight, laughter and conversation filtering from the windows, it didn’t dampen my mood.

My footsteps hushed as I stepped on the dirt-lined path of Market Row, where I sold my goods every month, and then the Black Veil loomed before me. For once, it didn’t seem like a relief to enter its shadowed depths. For once, I wondered if I should go back to Grimstone’s, order a goblet of wine after the day, sit in a back booth, and not think of Lorik.

When I’d made the decision to return to the Healers’ Guild, to take on a shift every single day, I hadn’t quite known what to expect. Only that I’d needed to. I’d felt that need so strongly in my chest that it had felt crushing.

It was partly to do with Lorik. My aching heart hadn’t been able to withstand the quiet of my cottage and the familiarity of the daily routine I’d created there. I’d been restless, grieving, overthinking, heartbroken, and angry…and I knew if I didn’t change something, it would drive me mad.

Lorik had been the catalyst…but I’d known for a long time, hadn’t I? I’d known that if I didn’t start living a different life, if I didn’t start filling it with things I wanted, not things that were comfortable and familiar, then I would die alone. I would never know love. I would never have a family of my own. I would become bitter and angry. And I didn’t want to be.

The night after I’d given Lorik the shadevine-hive heart, I’d had a dream that I’d transformed into a Shade. A lifeless, soulless Shade, wandering the Black Veil, in search of something but never quite being able to find it.

I’d woken in a cold sweat, crying, gripping my chest as if I could’ve squeezed my hand around my heart like I had in the hive.

That morning, I’d gotten dressed…and I’d gone straight into Rolara. Nothing had deterred me from my path to the Healers’ Guild hall, tucked against the north end of the village, and I’d gone straight to Salladar, the head of the guild. I’d told him I wanted a daily shift, one he’d hesitantly given me. It’d had nothing to do with my ability. Salladar knew my ability better than anyone…he’d trained me himself, after all, when I’d first started my studies after leaving Correl’s.

But the sudden change in me had likely startled him, whereas all I’d felt was determination and desperation. I’d taken an oath to help the people of Allavar. I’d turned my back on it in the last decade. I could understand his reluctance. I didn’t know what he’d seen in my eyes that morning, but he’d let me stay, on the condition that I helped with the guild’s glowflies once every week.

The pay was meager, but it gave me a renewed sense of purpose again. I talked to more people in a day than I had in the previous month combined. People began to greet me in town, the whispers beginning to die out though I did still catch a few now and again—no doubt curious why I was in Rolara every day. I’d even caught sight of Veras a few times, but he’d only nodded at me, his familiar guard always trailing him. There was an unspoken truce between us. Tentative but there.

And in the evenings, I returned to my cottage. If Peek was displeased that I was away from the cottage for longer some days, he didn’t show it. My only worry in returning to the cottage every night was that I’d be gone too long.

After I’d taken the shadevine-hive heart, I’d done my absolute best to keep the remaining glowflies alive without the queen. I heated a large spherical river rock every morning and every evening. I woke in the middle of the night at least once too. It was large enough that it kept the entire hive warm for hours, and I figured it must’ve been working because the glowflies were still alive. Even without the queen, they still worked for me, tending to the shadevines.

I didn’t know how long it would work. But I would wake up every hour in the dead of winter if it meant saving them. I owed it to them.

Walking through the Black Veil now, I wondered what I would do in a few weeks when the sun would set long before my shift at the guild hall ended.

Veras had said that more and more Shades were roaming the Black Veil, and while I had yet to encounter one on my walks home, I knew it might only be a matter of time. I’d always seen them, here and there. They stayed far away, and I knew that Peek would protect me. But knowing that there was unrest in the Below, that Lorik was frightened about something…it had made me uneasy every single night.

I never breathed a sigh of relief until I stepped beyond Peek’s boundary, and I wondered if I should start bringing him into Rolara with me for extra protection come winter.

Peek might even like it, I thought. He could wander the streets and spy on people while I worked in the guild hall.

A branch snapped in the Black Veil, and I froze on the path, my heart pounding in my chest. My hand went to the dagger I kept hidden at my hip, curling my fist around the hilt.

I scanned the darkening forest without moving my head, my eyes darting back and forth between the wide tree trunks, trying to look for shadows that might be unnatural.

“It’s only me,” came the voice. “Don’t worry. The branch was more brittle than it appeared.”

My heart squeezed in my chest, a jolt of sorrow and heartache hitting me harder than I’d thought possible.

Lorik.

“Have you been following me this whole time?” I asked, not bothering to raise my voice, looking in the direction I thought he might’ve been hiding.

“I just want to make sure you get home safely.”

“This is ridiculous,” I said, my hand dropping away from the dagger. “Why are you hiding?”

“Because you said you never wanted to see me again.”

I pressed my lips together. Yes, he was right about that.

“And you won’t—I promise,” Lorik continued. “I just wanted you to know that you have nothing to fear in the Black Veil, Marion. I’ll always make sure Shades stay away from your path.”

I didn’t reply, and Lorik said nothing else. I continued on, winding my way home even as my mind raced. I felt flustered, knowing he was watching me, watching over me. How long had he done this without me knowing?

And if it thawed a tiny part of my icy heart, I ignored it.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Over the course of the next few days, I found myself taking Lorik’s words to heart. Because, it seemed, one part of me still trusted that he would keep me safe, despite what had happened between us.

Gone were the nerves that entered my chest whenever I was beyond Peek’s protection. Instead, I felt a fluttering kind of awareness, knowing that Lorik was out there, even though I could not see him.

I struggled between trying to ignore that newfound knowledge…and also smoothing down my hair whenever I left my cottage and whenever I entered the Black Veil after my time in Rolara. It was frustratingly ridiculous. How could I be torn between heartbreak over his terrible betrayal while also wanting to look pretty for him? I was out of my mind, I’d finally decided, even as I picked out my best dresses that didn’t have holes in them.

I still hadn’t decided if I’d forgiven Lorik or not. I believed what he’d said. I truly did. And knowing that…I felt it was coldhearted not to forgive him for it. Yes, he had lied to me, used me to get the shadevine-hive heart.

But I also recognized that not only would I want to help my people if they were sick…I would literally do anything to save my sister. I would have done anything to save her. If I could have traded my life for hers…I would have.

Knowing that, did that change how I felt about what had happened between us in the aftermath? After the heat of the moment had passed and I could reflect on it with calmness and logic?

Of course it did.

However, I just didn’t see how it would change anything between us. We’d been doomed from the start. He was a Kelvarian, the Below King’s Hunter, and he would never be accepted in the Above world without his magicked glamour—not that he would ever leave his home.

And I could never leave mine. All we would have were stolen moments, like the ones we’d had before, until he was called away again by the magic embedded into his wrist.

And though I’d pushed my own dreams for the future down deep, I realized I wanted a family. I wanted to be loved, and I wanted to love. I wanted a partner in this life, one who was kind and caring. I wanted children.

Despite whether I forgave Lorik for what had happened, I didn’t think he could give me that.

That night, as I returned from Rolara, all while feeling the heaviness of Lorik’s gaze—or at least imagining it—I encountered a small package on the threshold of Peek’s barrier, sitting on the tree stump near the carved out washing basin.

It was wrapped in the lightest silk I’d ever felt, so smooth and soft that it felt like water slipping through my fingertips when I picked it up.

As the moon began to rise, casting light through the naked branches of the river trees overhead, I unwrapped the white silk to find a smooth stone inside. A warm stone, one etched with what looked like glowing runes. They throbbed like a heartbeat.

I stared down at it in my palm, where it fit neatly within.

“Lorik,” I called out.

He didn’t reply. A gust of wind picked up, rustling the branches.

“Come out.”

I didn’t have to wait for long. I steeled myself for the sight of him, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.

He wasn’t wearing his glamour anymore. There was no need between us, I supposed. And he was even more handsome than I’d remembered. Or perhaps the time apart had just made me forget.

At his temples, the sides of his long, black hair were pulled away from his face in an intricate braid and pinned at the back of his head. It only put his sharp, wide features on further display. His high cheekbones, his pouting lips, and his cutting jawline. His brows were twin slashes across his face, his eyes tilted at the outer corners like a feline’s.

He was wearing a deep maroon vest, the color of human blood, a loose white shirt beneath it. His tight trews looked like suede, but they were supple and molded to his thighs perfectly. I spied the hilt of a silver dagger in his waistband. And as I studied him across the clearing, I watched his wings twitch, flaring once, twice, before he settled them against his back.

Nervous? I wondered.

“What is this?” I asked, though I thought I knew. Lorik’s gaze went down to the stone in my hand before it met mine again.

“A magicked stone,” he told me. “I’ve been working on it since… I’m sorry it’s taken so long. The runes were tricky to get right.”

“It’s warm,” I commented, my heart beating in my chest.

“I knew you were trying to keep them alive,” Lorik murmured, his glowing, beautiful eyes spearing into mine. I was under the impression that he was drinking me in, like he feared this might be the last time we would speak. “I thought this would help you.”

“A replacement heart for the shadevine hive,” I murmured, unsure how I felt about that. “It won’t bring the queen back.”

“I know,” he rasped. “But I thought…I thought this would help. It will stay warm forever. It will never lose its heat. You could keep the hive alive without the queen until the rest…”

“Until they all die out,” I finished for him softly. My gaze strayed back to my palm.

He’d done this for me?

I hadn’t known he knew runes. A tricky magic, like he’d said, and very few ever mastered it. But they were infinitely more powerful than spells, which could dissipate like a breeze. Runes were permanent. Forever.

The bitter part of me thought it was the least he could do…then I felt ashamed for it.

The other part of me was touched. Another little piece of my icy heart seemed to flaw with the gift. This would keep the hive alive, and I wouldn’t have to change out the stone I warmed in the fire multiple times a day. One less thing I’d have to worry about.

Thank you, I thought, but I couldn’t say the words. He was the reason why the hive was without a heart, right?

Not him specifically, I reminded myself. Shame reared its head again, and I felt tears prick the backs of my eyes. I was so confused. Everything was muddled and messy, including my ever-changing emotions.

“Don’t, Marion,” Lorik said, his voice firm and gruff.

Gods, I’d missed his voice. A stab of longing went through me when I remembered hearing it first thing in the mornings, waking up with that voice.

Let’s stay in bed all day, he’d tease me, husky and warm. And I remembered how wide my smile had been as I’d pressed my face into his neck, inhaling the comforting scent of his skin.

“Don’t what?” I asked.

“Don’t thank me,” he said, his voice verging on angry. “I can see it. I can hear it. This is the very least I could have done. And still…it will never be enough. Ever. I’m embarrassed that this is the most I can give you.”

Silence lapsed between us. Lorik stood as close to Peek’s barrier as he could, and yet it felt like the distance was too great.

“I won’t thank you,” I finally said, looking down at my feet, my gaze flickering between my boots as I deliberated my next words. “But this will be a great help.”

Lorik said nothing.

There was a question hanging in the air, one I had thought a dozen times a day.

“Did it work?” I finally asked, glancing back up at him.

Lorik’s expression gave nothing away, but I watched as his eyes tracked across my face, like he was memorizing me. My own went to his lips. I could see the tip of one fang indenting his bottom lip, and I swallowed hard, wondering if he longed for the taste of my blood. I wondered if he’d fed since we’d been together…but surely he must’ve. And why did that thought make a prick of hot jealousy spear through my belly? Of imagining Lorik with another woman? Another Kelvarian, who was perhaps better suited to his life than I was?

“The spell seems to have stopped new Shades being created,” he told me. “No new reports have come in.”

“Good,” I said quietly. “And your…sister?”

Lorik swallowed, his throat bobbing, his right wing lifting slightly. “The sorceress said it might take time.”

My gut clenched. Which meant that no, she wasn’t recovered.

“But we are hopeful,” he said. “Other Kelvarians have recovered swiftly. More do every day. I haven’t lost hope for Thela. She’s strong. She will recover.”

I nodded. “I hope so.”

The stone beat in my hand—a part of Lorik’s magic, rare and powerful, and it felt oddly intimate to have it in my possession.

When I began to turn away, Lorik said, “Marion.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. There were so many words perched on the edge of his tongue. I could see them. I could hear them, just like Lorik had said to me earlier. Maybe our connection was a magical thing…and a part of me wished it wasn’t.

Lorik opened his lips. Then he shook his head, huffing out a sharp breath as his gaze strayed to the earth beneath his feet.

Then he straightened his shoulders, meeting my eyes again. Whatever brief vulnerability that had been evident was long gone.

“The Below King would like to extend his deepest appreciation for your help,” Lorik said quietly. “He is in your debt. We all are. If you ever have a favor to ask, he will personally see to it upheld.”

My lips parted.

A favor? I had no need of one. There was nothing I wanted, except to go back in time and lie in Lorik’s arms once more, memory erased and ignorantly blissful.

Besides…I was in the Above world. What use would I—

A thought occurred to me.

“You said Merec’s debt was to a Sev—to a Kelvarian,” I said.

Lorik blinked. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Has the debt been repaid?” I wondered.

“Not fully,” Lorik murmured. “He still has another five years on the contract.”

“Then I would ask the Below King to forgive whatever debt Merec owes,” I said. “That is what I want.”

Lorik lowered his chin in understanding. He brought a hand to run it along his horn, and I remembered the feel of the black bone beneath my own fingertips. A pang went through me as I mentally counted the steps between us.

“I will relay your message to him,” Lorik said. “He will see it done.”

I nodded. Then, knowing there was nothing else to say, I turned.

“Marion.”

I stilled but didn’t look at him again. I merely waited.

The words came, a quiet confession.

“I miss you, little witch,” he told me softly, his voice hushed in the quiet of the evening. It sounded almost reverent. A murmured prayer. “Even when I’m in the Below…all I want is to be here with you.”

Tears filled my eyes, making my vision go blurry. I tried to blink them away quickly, but there was a rawness in Lorik’s voice that haunted me. His words replayed over and over in my head.

“I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, Marion,” he continued. “I don’t know if I even want you to because I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for betraying you.”

My brow furrowed, staring at my night garden next to my cottage, the trellis entrance withering with the cold.

“But please know…I am deeply sorry, Marion.”

Whatever I heard in his voice—whatever pained, terrible thing I heard—it made me turn to meet his eyes. His lips pressed when he saw the tears glimmering in my gaze, and he took a stuttered step forward, as if he couldn’t help it, before Peek’s barrier pushed him back.

I didn’t even care if he saw me crying.

Holding my eyes, he said, “I am deeply sorry for betraying your trust. But I am not sorry for everything else.”

I frowned.

“Because I will hold those moments with me forever, little witch. I cannot bring myself to regret any moment that I spent with you. Even when you were pulling an arrow out from my shoulder. Because it meant you were close to me. And only in those moments did I feel like I could finally breathe.”

My lips parted.

“I know you have no reason to trust me,” he continued. “I have given you none. But I would give you my blood oath right here and now if it meant erasing any doubt in your mind about the way I feel about you.”

My mind raced. A blood oath? He would be forever bound to it. Just like the one he’d made to the Below King, like the one I’d made to the Healers’ Guild.

“I regret that I hurt you. For the rest of my life, I will regret that,” he said. “But I do not know if I have the will to say goodbye to you, Marion. Every moment away from you has been agony. Every moment in the Below has felt like a lifetime. It will break my soul if I have to say goodbye to you…but if that’s truly what you want, I will respect that. I swear it to you.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep it from quivering. Maybe I was weak…but I didn’t want that, did I? Maybe I hadn’t known it before, but actually hearing him say it? That hurt even more. Imagining never seeing him again. Never looking upon his face, never seeing that wide grin and the sly twinkle in his eyes when he teased me. Never hearing his voice, never feeling his gentle touch across my shoulders, my back, my abdomen, my hips…

Gods, that hurt.

“But,” Lorik said, a tone entering his voice after he observed me process that information, “if there is a part of you that could forgive me even the smallest bit, if there is a part of you that still believes in this, in us…”

I inhaled a shaky breath that sounded like a small sob.

“I’ll be here,” he finished. “I’ll always be here, Marion. Take as much time as you need to make that decision.”

Lorik blew out a short breath, holding my gaze…and then began to walk away, back into the shadowy tree line of the Black Veil. Would he return to the Below to see his sister? Or would he patrol the forest for Shades, protecting his realm and ours?

“Lorik,” I called out, quickly.

He turned so fast one would think a Shade had crept up behind him.

I didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, but I wanted to be honest with him too. I didn’t want to swallow down the words I felt rising in my throat.

“I miss you too,” I said.

The edge of his lips curved in a gentle smile. He didn’t say anything else. I knew he would give me time to make my decision.

“Be careful in there,” I said next, finally turning away, the rune stone hot in my hand as I gripped it hard.

“I always am, little witch.”

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Another week passed, and the path into Rolara was now covered in snow and icicles. The Black Veil in winter had always been beautiful. Peaceful and quiet…but lonely. I’d never felt the loneliness more as I trekked each day into the village. While I’d come to enjoy Rolara, to nod and wave and smile at familiar faces that were becoming even more familiar to me by the day, it always reminded me that I was alone.

Lately, the walls of my cottage had seemed too close. Lately, I’d had a difficult time finding sleep, dreaming of Lorik, missing him so much that it physically ached in my breast.

I’d only seen him a handful times throughout the week, though I’d always felt his presence near. We’d spoken briefly, in conversations that always felt too short—but just long enough to realize that we were both miserable.

Thela hadn’t recovered fully though she continued to improve every day. Two days ago, she’d begun to eat again, and I’d seen the emotion on Lorik’s face, the shimmering in his eyes, to know how much that had relieved him. I hadn’t realized how bad it had been, but he’d confessed that she’d been on the brink of death, even with the help of the spell.

Life was continuing on, in the Above and the Below, apparently.

So why couldn’t we? Why did I feel so stuck?

I huffed out a deep sigh, keeping my ears perked for Lorik as I walked home from Rolara in the darkness. I’d begun to bring my Halo orb with me, and it floated in front of me, illuminating my path, twinkling off icicles and patches of snow as my winter boots crunched through it.

It had been a hard day. The Healers’ Guild had lost an older patient, one whose body had simply given out. His name had been Povar. Just last week, I’d given him a salve for his aching joints and he’d made the trek back to the guild hall the following day just to thank me. He’d had a kind smile and a warm soul.

And today…he was just gone.

“What are you thinking of, little witch?”

I took in a deep breath through my nostrils, and I was surprised by the sense of comfort and relief I felt the moment I heard his voice, funneling its way to me like a warm, summer wind.

I’d almost made it to the cottage. Lorik was leaning against the trunk of a river tree, dressed in a fur-lined long-sleeved shirt and a thick, intricate vest with a beautifully stitched pattern. His pants were a dark blue, the color of midnight, and his black boots were tipped in silver metal.

I was used to the sight of him now, his features no longer suppressed by his magicked glamour. Even his eyes glowed more brightly.

“How easy is it for you to use glamour?” I wondered, stopping in front of him.

In an instant, the Lorik I’d known was before me. Softer, more delicate features like an Allavari. Even the broadness of his shoulders and the width of his chest seemed to shrink, and I wondered how I couldn’t have felt it when we’d been intimate. But magic was powerful. And I’d always known Lorik’s was greater than any I’d ever seen.

Are all Kelvarians this powerful? I wondered.

“Do you prefer me like this?” he asked. His voice was the same, though I thought it matched his true face better, now that I knew both.

“No,” I answered. It was my honest answer. “Because it’s not truly you. It’s what you think others need to see.”

Lorik dropped the glamour like he was lowering a shield. His eyes were even more vibrant against the snowy backdrop, like he’d been made for winter.

“What were you thinking of, Marion?” he asked again. “You look upset.”

I sighed. My eyes went to my cottage behind me. Dark and empty and cold. And for some reason, the thought of stoking up a fire inside by myself tonight felt like the most horrible thing.

“An older Allavari male died today at the guild hall,” I told him. “Povar. I didn’t know him well, but he was kind to me. And I don’t know… I feel…I feel…”

Lost.

“I’m sorry, Marion,” Lorik murmured. “Death is never an easy thing. It doesn’t matter if you knew him well or not. You still cared about him.”

I swallowed, tugging my shawl closer around my shoulders.

“Will you…” I started. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

The silence that stretched felt charged with electricity, but I didn’t walk back my words. I wondered if that was why Lorik took so long to answer—because he was waiting for me to regret the question and change my mind.

Only I never did.

“Yes,” he finally replied. “I would.”

I nodded and turned, my heart thumping in my chest. Lorik followed me, his footsteps nearly silent in the snow. He stopped, however, at Peek’s boundary, and without hesitation, I took his hand and pulled him over.

The heat of his skin felt shocking and welcome. He didn’t drop my hand. He threaded his fingers in between mine, and I felt my shoulders relax.

The chill of my cottage was startling. Lorik released my hand as the Halo orb floated into the front room, casting sharp shadows across the wall from the furniture. I went to light my candles, and without me asking, Lorik sparked the fire in the hearth, his movements practiced and sure. All the wood he’d chopped for me had been used up, and I realized it had been over three weeks since he’d last been inside the cottage.

When the fire roared to life and the candles had been lit, golden light filled the front room. There was pawing at the door, and I let Peek inside. My braydus slinked into the room slowly, shaking the snow off his fur. His head turned to regard Lorik carefully. Then he huffed out a sharp breath through his nostrils, ignored Lorik completely—at least that was what he wanted Lorik to believe—and went to eat when I filled his bowl with raw meat.

“He still hates me, I see,” Lorik commented.

“Peek doesn’t like anyone.”

“He’s protective of you,” he replied. “That’s all that matters. You couldn’t have a better companion. I feel better knowing that.”

I regarded Lorik across the room. If I’d thought he’d filled my cottage before, he made it seem ten times smaller now.

Ice was melting off my shawl, and I unwrapped it, hanging it by the door. Unbuttoning my thick overcoat next—one that needed a few holes to be patched. I was a little embarrassed by the state of my clothes, especially next to Lorik. And with the extra money coming in from my shifts at the guild hall, repairing the majority of my wardrobe and investing in new winter clothes was my first priority.

“Let me get the kettle on the fire,” he said, and behind me, I heard him prepping it. My heart was racing. It was tense and a little awkward, like we both didn’t know what to do with ourselves, where to place our bodies in the room…

And yet I didn’t regret asking him inside. Having him here was like a nice memory. And a part of me wanted to forget it all—forget the way he’d hurt me—and just move forward.

When Lorik set the kettle over the fire, I turned. Steam was rising off him as he lingered by the flames, and it took me a moment to realize he was using magic to dry his clothes. When they were, he pushed up his sleeves and then settled down into his usual place at the table.

“What’s it like in the Below?” I asked quietly. Lorik looked at me sharply, blinking once. “Unless you’re not allowed to tell me.”

His jaw tightened. “No more secrets, Marion. I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.”

“Then tell me what it’s like—where you live.”

“Allavari think the Below is a hellscape of demons and fire and dark magic and twisted souls,” Lorik said, quirking his lips up in a dry smile. “It couldn’t be more opposite. The Below is more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.”

My brow furrowed.

“I live in a place called Aeysara. The Below King’s bright city. I was born there, raised there. And like the Above world, there are countless villages spread across our land, ranging from small strongholds to sprawling towns that stretch for miles and miles. We truly do not know the boundaries of the Below. Over centuries, we’ve had scouts try to find the edges of our world, but we’ve never found them. The truth is that we call it the Below and this place the Above…but sometimes I wonder if it’s the opposite. The Below isn’t actually below. And the Above isn’t actually above us. They are just two different realms of Allavar, bound by the portal in the Black Veil. But in the Below…the magic there is powerful. It’s steeped in it.”

I took all this in with rapt fascination.

“And when you come up to the Above world,” I began, “do you feel the lack of magic here?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I feel depleted here if I stay too long.”

I pressed my lips together, thinking as much.

“But it’s a small price to pay,” he added.

I sucked in a breath as I looked at him. What was he saying?

Lorik leaned forward, his forearms sliding across the flat surface of my wood table. Gingerly, I took a seat across from him, ignoring my icy feet in my winter boots or the wet marks I’d tracked along my stone floor, which would dry as the cottage heated.

“Is it winter there now?” I asked. “In Aeysara?”

“No,” he said. “Our seasons do not change. The first time I saw snow, felt it…it was shocking. The cold, the rain, the heat during the warm season—we don’t feel that in the Below. We have ancient spells in place to keep our lands temperate, fueled partly by the Below King’s magic.”

“That must be nice,” I said quietly.

“Sometimes,” he said. “But I’ve grown quite fond of rain and storms and never quite knowing what the day will bring. There is an excitement and unpredictability in it. I have this fantasy…”

I held my breath as I waited for him to speak.

“Of us,” he murmured, catching my eyes, “in another life. Where we wake to a storm, and we have so much to get done that day. Wood to be chopped, provisions to buy from the village, the garden needing tending, and your potions to brew. And the storm comes, and we just decide to forget all of it. To stay warm in bed and listen to the rain on the roof.”

My chest gave a sharp pang as longing went through me. Another life, he’d said. Was something like that still possible in this one? When he’d said himself that his magic slowly depleted every time he came to the Above?

“That’s what you dream about?” I whispered.

“Among other things, yes,” he said, swallowing. He seemed embarrassed as he shifted in his chair, as if he hadn’t meant to confess those things. “But…anyway, no, it’s not winter in the Below. It likely never will be.”

There were so many questions. Questions I’d wondered in the weeks we’d been apart. Questions that seemed too vast that I couldn’t even think of a single one to voice now. It was too overwhelming.

“Don’t,” Lorik’s gentle voice came. Could he read me so clearly? “We have as much time as you’ll give me, Marion.”

Meaning…he’d wait for me until I asked him not to. Meaning…he would always be here until I asked him to leave.

I choked out a small sob, torn between a smile and tears. I pressed my hands to my face before I raked them back into my hair, pushing back my unruly auburn waves as I breathed deeply.

“I…I’ve been thinking of offering my glowflies to the Healers’ Guild,” I confessed. “Of transferring the hives and uprooting all the plants. Of…of leaving my cottage and moving back to the village. Or maybe not even Rolara. Maybe elsewhere in Allavar. I don’t know.”

The words tumbled out of me in a rush.

“And the crazy thing is that I don’t know that I want to,” I said in the quiet, the only sound the crackling fire. “I don’t know if it’s just because of everything that happened. If I’m a little heartbroken, a little lonely, or if I just need a change.”

Lorik frowned.

“The Black Veil helped me heal after Aysia. But I also realize that I’ve used it as a shield since,” I said. “I’ve just been a little lost lately. And I don’t know why I’m telling you this when there’s a million other things to ask you. But this week…whenever you’ve asked me how I’ve been, a part of me just wants to scream all this. I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

“Marion…” he said softly.

I sniffed, lowering my hands away from the sides of my head, and my hair fell back into place. The water began to boil over the hearth, and I made a move to stand.

“Leave it,” Lorik told me, catching my hand quickly across the table. “I want to talk about this.”

Slowly, I lowered back down into my seat.

“Tell me,” he said.

“You hurt me,” I whispered. Lorik breathed in slowly and deeply at the words. Was that relief on his face? “You hurt me real bad, Lorik Ravael. But I forgive you for it.”

That made his brows furrow. Did he want me to be angry with him forever? Because he thought he deserved it?

“I forgive you for it. Because I understand why you had to do it. I can understand how there would no choice in something like that. I just wish…I just wish it hadn’t hurt so much.”

“I told you before, Marion,” he said, his voice gruff. “My feelings for you were never a lie. I never had to pretend with you. The lie was just…everything else. The circumstances of how we met. And what I needed from you.”

“Looking back on it, I think you were always trying to tell me,” I said. “I remember the conversations we had about perception and reality, if I believed that there were things in the universe that would upend everything I knew. You were talking about the Kelvarians, about Severs and Shades, about Allavari, about you. I see that now. I see it so clearly. And I always think about that last night, when we were bathing together and you told me your sister was sick.”

Lorik’s jaw tightened, his thumb stroking over the back of my hand.

“Were you trying to tell me then?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said softly. “I just didn’t know how, Marion. Everything was piling up around me. The lies, my deepening feelings for you, my duty to my people, to my family. I had to weigh everything so carefully. Because truthfully, I was running out of time. It was the one thing I had little left of. Every moment I spent with you, the darkness was spreading more and more in the Below, slowly turning innocent lives into Shades. We had no idea if the hive heart would even work—only the word of a sorceress. Even knowing that, even with all the pressure from the Below, I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think that…that I was only with you because I needed something from you. I did, but it was more than that.”

“I know,” I said softly. “It was an impossible decision. And there was really one choice. I understand.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I hurt you,” Lorik murmured. “And I hate that I had to. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

The honest words hung in the air. We stared at each other across the table, and for once, the distance between us didn’t seem so great, so insurmountable.

The kettle kept whistling over the fire, and I squeezed his hand as I stood from the table. He let me go this time, and I prepped our tea in silence before sliding the cup over to him, taking my seat again.

Steam curled from the cup as I took the first small sip and peered over the rim at him.

I watched as he reached toward his cup, catching sight of a mark on his wrist I’d never seen before.

“What’s that?” I asked, my cup hitting the table with a loud thud. “Are you being called to the Below?”

“No,” he said, hiding the mark when he curled his hand around his cup. “It’s nothing.”

“I thought we agreed no more secrets.”

Lorik’s lips pressed together, and he gave a self-deprecating smirk. “You’re right.”

Then with a small moment of hesitation, he slid his wrist across the table and showed me.

Whether made by ink or magic, it was an intricate black symbol, resembling a shield, though at its very center there were words written upon it. In Kelvarian? I didn’t recognize it.

I got a strange feeling as I looked at it, and I met Lorik’s eyes. “What is it?”

His nostrils flared. He studied me carefully and then said, “It’s a crime mark.”

Suddenly, I understood what he meant. The Shade…Lorik had looked at his wrist after he’d killed him. Crimes, he’d said when he’d seen the markings. I remembered the flash of disgust I’d seen on his face, and I wondered what crimes the Shade had committed.

Dread pooled in my belly.

“What does it say?”

“Oath breaker,” he told me, taking his wrist back and tugging his sleeve down to shield it from my sight. He picked up his cup in that hand and took a long swig of his hot tea.

“Your blood oath,” I whispered, the color draining from my face. The one I’d forced him to break. “Tell me what it means for you.”

“Kelvarians are held to laws bound in honor. Every crime is marked on our skin like a tally. A shameful history, for all to see. Theft is one marking. Murder is three. Every Kelvarian is only allowed three markings, three chances…then you are sentenced to death or the land of the Shades by public trial.”

Horror clawed up my throat. “What?”

“It seems strict perhaps to an Allavari,” he murmured, “but the system works for the Below.”

“But you’re…you’re the Below King’s Hunter,” I said.

“Even the Below King is not above Kelvarian law,” he told me. “Even the Below King has a crime mark of his own.”

My lips parted.

“And…and how many more do you get before…”

“Oath breaker,” he repeated, staring down at the now-concealed mark, “normally counts as two markings against me. But mine was in service to the Below King, and so it was judged during the trial to only count as one. I have two chances left before…”

Tears sprung into my eyes. “It’s not fair,” I whispered.

Lorik took my hand again. “Nothing ever is, little witch. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is!” I said angrily. “How can you say it’s not?”

“Because I knew that it was very likely I would need to break my blood oath when the Below King tasked me with this. I went into this knowing that. You were never going to give me the hive heart with no explanation, and I didn’t want to lie to you anymore, Marion.”

“I wish you had!”

Gods…death? Or the land of the Shades—whatever that meant! Just the thought of Lorik no longer being a part of this world made mine feel like it was falling apart.

And that should’ve been my first clue that I was falling in love with the Kelvarian male who’d stolen a lot more than the hive heart.

“I’ve gone this long without a crime mark, Marion,” he said. “By the trial’s mercy, it is not so dire as it could’ve been.”

“Because you helped saved your people,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t have been marked at all.”

“No, you helped save my people,” he said. “Don’t forget that.”

I scoffed. It seemed like a small thing compared to this, and it made me realize that there was so much more happening beneath the surface, things I still couldn’t anticipate or see.

But that’s life, I realized. You either swayed with it like a current or you fought it until it drowned you.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Don’t apologize to me,” Lorik said, frowning.

It was then I knew he still hadn’t forgiven himself, even though I had.

“I’m still sorry,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I can’t help how I feel.”

And I knew that the mark brought him shame. He would carry it for the rest of his life—a constant reminder of what he’d done, even though he’d only wanted to help with people, his sister.

It wasn’t fair.

But nothing ever was. Lorik had been right about that.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

It was market day once more. A whole moon cycle had passed since the last, the evening that Veras had told me that Lorik was a Sever—a Kelvarian from the Below. The evening I’d learned the truth.

It felt like a lifetime ago in some ways. Yet it had passed in the blink of an eye.

But much had changed since. I marveled that I’d gone to countless market days in the last ten years and each one had felt the same. This one? It couldn’t feel any different.

For once, I smiled and waved at the vendors as I passed, many I’d spoken to in the village at least once in the last month. Eymaris came up to my stall to chat as I unpacked my potions, all healing salves and potions to help with sleep since the death needle crop had been bountiful this season.

And during the market itself, Griffel and Salladar and Winnand, families of patients I’d treated, shopkeepers I’d sent business to, and even fellow healers from the guild all passed by to talk, looking over my potions or dropping off their old bottles to me from the previous market days, which I appreciated. Many brought me gifts—food from one of the vendors, a bundle of winter flowers, a neatly wrapped package of thick socks. I was surprised and touched by the generosity.

I found that the market day flew by because of the people. The friends I’d begun to make in Rolara. Everyone seemed in great spirits—not even the snowfall and the icy chill in the air could dampen it. The music seemed more vibrant, traveling across the cold air more swiftly, and the heat and press of bodies felt more welcome.

And I realized that I’d done this. I’d created this for me. This sense of belonging in Rolara. This sense of community.

If I’d hidden myself away in the Black Veil this last month, like I always had, this market day wouldn’t have felt so special.

By the time it was growing dark, my throat hurt from talking and laughing with passing villagers and neighboring vendors. Not even the sight of Veras dampened my spirits. I’d nodded at him without prompting, and he’d tipped his chin down, going on his way.

And just as I began to pack up my cart, I caught sight of Lorik.

My breath seized in my lungs, anticipation giving my heart a rough jolt.

I wondered how long he’d been watching me, but he was leaning back against the apothecary shop, his usual place during market days, and his eyes were pinned on me, a small smile playing across his lips.

For a moment, it was like we’d gone back in time. To before I’d even known his name. He had his glamour on, of course, since we were in the village, but a part of me wished I could see him. His true self. I wished the others could too.

I saw the long looks cast his way, but he paid people no mind as they skirted around him. He was only looking at me, his arms crossed over his chest, his pose relaxed and at ease.

After that night in my cottage, I’d seen him twice more and only very briefly. He’d been called back to the Below. We’d left us up in the air, an unspoken thing after what we’d discussed. About his crime marking, about the Below, about my thoughts of giving up my cottage.

There was still so much to discuss, so much to figure out—how this would even work. If it could even work.

Especially since I knew Lorik still hadn’t forgiven himself. Forgiveness had always been a difficult thing for me, given my past with Veras. With Lorik…I’d found forgiveness came easily. The same couldn’t be said for him.

When I was finally alone, Lorik pushed away from the building of the apothecary and strode over to me, his footsteps strong and certain, and I counted every single one because they matched my heartbeat.

“Popular little witch,” he murmured, his voice dipped low so the neighboring vendor couldn’t eavesdrop. “I’ve been trying to get you alone all evening.”

I wanted to reach out and hold him. I wanted to feel his arms around me once more, but the only touch we’d had in the last few weeks had been when we’d held one another’s hands at my cottage. There was a barrier we hadn’t passed yet, a line neither of us had crossed.

Would tonight be the night we would?

I hope so, I couldn’t help but wish. I’d done a lot of thinking these last few weeks. Too much. I was tired of thinking, I’d decided. Lorik had been correct about me all those weeks ago. I was driven by logic, and for once, I just wanted to do what felt right.

And to me, Lorik felt right. Despite everything.

The Halo lights were beginning to flicker on in the village, making it glow in the distance. My own orb was weaving around us, casting shadows across our faces as I tucked my tablecloth back into my cart, laden with the gifts I’d received today. For once, it would be nearly as heavy lugging back to my cottage as it was into the market.

“You’ve been here all this time?” I asked, suddenly shy.

He nodded.

“Are you…are you back for a little while?”

Lorik’s lips turned up. It felt strange now, looking at his glamour when I knew the truth. What had Veras said? Power was knowledge. It peeled the veil away from your eyes.

Now I understood what he’d meant. I would never see the world the way I had before.

“Yes,” he said. “My sister…she’s awake.”

My breath hitched. “Really?”

He nodded, and I saw the relief glide over his face, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “It’s remarkable. Truly,” he said. “That’s why I was called back. That day, she just…woke up. It’s like it never happened. She’s back. Thela came back.”

I rounded the table and, without hesitation, wrapped my arms around him. I didn’t care if people were watching. I didn’t care if they would whisper or gossip about us. I only cared about Lorik and the catch I’d heard in his voice. And I thought…I want to meet his sister one day.

Would that even be possible?

Lorik’s arms went tight around me, and I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the hard thump of his heart against my cheek. Maybe this would be what he needed to help him forgive himself. His sister. Me.

We’d taken this slow, hadn’t we? We’d felt one another out, tiptoeing around the idea after Lorik’s necessary betrayal. But it had been long enough.

All I knew was that it had felt like a lifetime without him already. I didn’t know if I could go another day.

“I’m happy for you,” I said quietly, inhaling his scent deeply. His vest was luxuriously soft and supple, crafted by an expert hand. Our lives were so vastly different, but for the first time, I didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Happy for her and your family.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. And I knew he was thanking me for more than my words.

“I told you already,” I said, “the hive heart seems small in comparison now. Don’t thank me for that.”

“I will always thank you. Because it wasn’t an easy thing. You sacrificed something you cared deeply for, something that was a constant in your life for years, for people you don’t even know.”

His words ruffled my hair, and I closed my eyes against him, feeling warm and safe in his arms. Because the truth was that I would always have a scar of my own, just like the crime marking on his inner wrist. The shadevine queen’s sting would always ache, a perpetual reminder of what I’d needed to do.

“Let’s make a deal,” I suggested.

Lorik pulled back, running his eyes over my face carefully, hearing something in my tone that tightened the muscles in his body. “Oh?”

I drew in a deep breath, my heart pounding.

“I think we should put what happened behind us,” I said.

His brows drew together.

“I—I want to move forward, Lorik,” I told him, feeling the words clog up my throat, but I’d been feeling the truth of them for some time. “With you. If you still want that.”

His eyes glowed through his glamour before he could conceal their light.

“I miss you,” I whispered.

“Marion—”

“I miss you a lot,” I admitted. “I think we’ve both been a little miserable without each other, and I don’t want to regret anything. Not with you. I don’t want to regret not seeing what this could be just because we don’t know what could be. And I know there’s so much to figure out…but I—”

Lorik’s lips were on mine before I could utter another word. And I didn’t care that we were giving the lingering vendors a show and there would be talk in the village tomorrow morning. I wrapped my arms around Lorik’s neck and kissed him back, having missed his taste and the heat of his lips on mine.

I never wanted it to end.

But when it did, he murmured against my lips, “I’m a little in love with you, Marion.”

The words made my chest squeeze, and I couldn’t help the wobbly smile that crossed my face.

“I’m a little in love with you too, Lorik Ravael,” I whispered back.

His lips brushed against mine, soft and sweet and slow. And I thought my heart would burst from my chest in relief and happiness. I felt like I could float high above Rolara with his kiss.

“If that’s the case,” he began, “I have something to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Would you join me for an Allavari ale at Grimstone’s tonight?”

My laugh was soft, and the wide smile splitting my face actually hurt.

“When you order one, just call it an ale,” I teased. “And yes, I will. But only if you promise to steal a kiss from me in one of the back booths.”

Lorik’s laugh felt like a victory. I hadn’t heard it in so long, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

“I promise, little witch.”

Epilogue

Two moon cycles later…

“Lorik,” I chided, struggling to conceal my smile when his hands squeezed my backside. “You’re being very distracting.”

“You are distracting, little witch,” he murmured, pressing his hips against me, his lips brushing against my ear. I could feel the outline of his cock against his loose trews, hard and warm. And I let out a breathy moan when he nibbled on the column of my throat, a frustrated groan meeting my ears.

He squeezed my backside again.

“Later,” he promised.

“Later,” I agreed, stepping away, a little more flushed than I’d been before. “Just a few more riverberries. And maybe some willowroot moss if we can find it.”

“I haven’t seen any willowroot lately,” Lorik commented, watching me as I reached down to pluck a few plump berries off the vines growing close to the river bank. “Last I saw any was to the north, near the Massadians. I’ll snag some for you if I ever see it again.”

“Thank you,” I commented, reaching out to run my hand down his arm. Warm, hard, and strong beneath my fingertips. A flash of desire speared through me, thinking of our lovemaking that very morning—the driving pound of his hips, his wings giving him momentum, getting him as deep as possible.

I bit my lip.

“Ahh,” Lorik murmured, his eyes narrowing on something in the distance. He began walking, and I trailed behind him after snagging a few more riverberries for the scones I would make tomorrow morning.

“What do you see?”

Lorik, I’d discovered, had much better vision, especially in the Black Veil. Much better senses overall truthfully. He could hear a critter half a mile away scurrying up the trunk of a tree, smell the riverberries when they ripened from my cottage, and see a Shade in the darkness where I could not.

“Star grass. I’ll get some for Peek,” he replied.

“Still trying to bribe him?” I teased, wiping my stained fingers on the thick cloth I’d brought with me.

“One day, he will adore me,” Lorik vowed, flashing me a mischievous grin. “Didn’t you see him last night? He brushed up against my leg. On purpose.”

“Yes, I did,” I replied, an amused smile tugging on my lips at the excitement I heard in his tone.

Peek was beginning to warm to Lorik’s presence, now that it was nearly constant in the cottage. But my braydus had a mean streak, I’d begun to learn. Once, Lorik had brought him a braised Massadian bird leg from the market, not knowing that Peek detested Massadian birds. As punishment, Peek hadn’t allowed Lorik past his barrier around the cottage. Lorik had needed to call out for me, and I’d had to pull him through.

Though I’d scolded Peek afterward—and though it had never happened since—I always got the sense that Peek had been infinitely pleased with himself, and Lorik had grumbled about it for days.

But…now there seemed to be a truce between them. Peek especially liked Lorik’s gifts for him, though Lorik was always sure to ask me if Peek would like them first.

The patch of star grass was a bright blue, shimmering in the darkness that was beginning to stretch through the Black Veil, slowly like a thick fog. I never worried being out here so late. Not with Lorik. I enjoyed the moonlight, the quiet. It relaxed me. And if a branch snapped in the distance or I heard the movement of slow, shuffling feet, I knew to trust in my male’s instincts. I knew to trust that he would protect me if we ever encountered something more dangerous.

Just when Lorik was reaching down, his breath inhaled sharply, and a small stab of disappointment went through my belly.

“So soon?” I asked, looking at his wrist when he began to pluck the star grass in solid clumps from the damp earth. There I saw the summons, like opal-colored ink on his skin. He’d just returned from the Below three days before.

“It can wait until tomorrow,” he promised me, checking the mark.

“Are you sure?” I asked, biting my lip.

“We discussed it, yes?” Lorik said, giving me a small smile when he stood, fresh star grass clamped in his palm. He deposited them in the basket hanging from my arm and stole a quick kiss, his arm threading around my waist.

I nodded, ease slowly loosening my shoulders.

He meant the Below King when he said we.

Shortly after we’d made the decision to give us a chance, together, Lorik had told me that he would leave the Below to be with me.

And though the gesture had nearly brought me to tears, it had made me realize that I didn’t want him to do that. Not for me. The Below was his home…what he loved—where his family, his duty lay. It would be more difficult, yes. Lorik would be called away at odd hours of the day and night, depending on the severity and urgency of the summons. Most times, I wouldn’t know when I would see him next.

But we’d made adjustments. He sent me messages through magicked birds that would disappear in a puff of silver smoke when they delivered his letters. Letters of when he would be back, assuring me that he was safe, that he loved me, that he couldn’t wait until I was in his arms once more—all written in midnight-blue ink with his certain, steady hand.

He’d spoken with the Below King, who didn’t want to lose Lorik as his Hunter. And so, agreements had been made between them. Smaller scouting duties, both in the Below and Above worlds, would be passed to others. Lorik would only be called to the Below for council meetings, trials, and more important matters that the Below King didn’t trust others to handle.

And so, Lorik was free to live in both the Below and the Above.

Though there was a pressing thought that was becoming louder and louder in my mind as the days dragged on without him.

“Lorik.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think…” I trailed off, watching him straighten to regard me. I gave him a nervous smile. “Do you think that I would be welcome in the Below? One day?” I added quickly.

Lorik studied me, and then his eyes glowed brighter.

Then he leaned forward, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to my lips. And he stayed there. His tongue stroked mine, his hand wrapped around my waist, holding me to him. It was a warm embrace. Loving. He made me feel so incredibly safe and wanted.

“Yes,” he murmured finally. “You would be most welcome, Marion.”

“Really?” I asked.

“My sister has been asking to meet you.”

My stomach zinged with sudden nerves…but also delight. “Really?”

Lorik smiled. His thumb brushed my cheek. “But it’s not an easy decision—I know that.”

“But like with everything we do,” I said softly, “we can figure it out. As long as I’m with you and you’re with me, that’s all that matters, right?”

Lorik grinned. And it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Even more than my glowflies at midnight in the garden. Even more than a pretty moonrise or the lakelight leaves when they turned color during the harvest season.

“I love you so much, little witch,” he rasped.

I smiled back. Those words never failed to bring a flurry of wonderment to my chest.

“I love you too,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his, my basket full from our foraging in the Black Veil.

“Let’s head back,” he suggested, taking my hand in his. “It’s getting late.”

But on our return to the cottage, as darkness fell and the glow of the moon was shrouded behind clouds…Lorik stilled on the path, his eyes trained on something in the distance, to the west.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he said, brow furrowed. “Follow close.”

We trekked toward whatever it was that Lorik had spied in the forest, and the closer we came, the more light I saw. Blue light, slightly silver, emanating from a hollowed-out circle in the trunk of a tree, high above our heads.

I gasped when I spied the familiar crawling vines looping and swirling their way up the trunk.

“Is that…?” Lorik trailed off, his voice hushed.

“Yes,” I breathed, turning to face him wide-eyed. I laughed in disbelief. “My gods.”

Shadevines, with their thick, flat, velvety leaves, wound up the tree like a welcome embrace. And in the hollow of the trunk, I watched a shadevine glowfly dart out, landing on a nearby leaf. Then another. Another.

A shadevine hive in the Black Veil.

Lorik squeezed my hand, his palm warm and strong.

And I smiled.

Also by Zoey Draven

DESIRE IN HIS BLOOD

(BRIDES OF THE KYLORR BOOK #1)

We call the Kylorr demons. Monsters. Never in a million years did I expect to call one husband…

I’m drowning under the weight of my father’s debts. Working myself to the bone, I know that if I don’t pay them off in time, the sadistic creditors will take everything: our home, our respected name, and, worst of all, my two beautiful sisters.

To save my family, I agree to do something reckless: marry a wealthy and mysterious stranger, who offers me a wicked bargain I can’t afford to refuse.

However, his bargain comes with one terrifying catch. Because my husband-to-be is a Kylorr. One of the most fearsome alien races, the Kylorr are beastly monsters, all muscle and menace, with powerful wings, depraved cravings, and berserker-like rages. The worst part?

They survive on blood.

Cold and cruel, Azur of House Kaalium, the High Lord of Laras, demands me as his blood bride. To feed from me. To use my body in whatever way he wishes.

But if Azur expects a demure, submissive wife, he’ll be in for a rude awakening. My new husband might crave my surrender but there’s one thing I’ll never give him.

My heart…even if he wants to shatter it into a million pieces.

About Zoey

Zoey Draven has been writing stories for as long as she can remember. As an Amazon Top 50 bestselling author, now she gets to write the happily-ever-afters—with an otherworldly twist, of course! She is the author of Sci-Fi and Fantasy Romance books, such as the Horde Kings of Dakkar and the Brides of the Kylorr series.

When she’s not writing, she’s probably drinking one too many cups of coffee, hiking in the redwoods, or spending time with her family.

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