Page 139 of Curse the Fae

Before I can seize her, Cove leans backward and settles her plush body against my torso. “Vicious creature,” she quips as the slender torrent quivers down her front. “Were you trying to slither up on me?”

I relax against her softness and settle my palms on her waist. My voice lowers, on the feral side of guttural. “How did you know?”

“I’m learning,” Cove answers.

Yes, she is. This bewitcher is growing increasingly attuned to the signs of my approach, a thought that dabs the crook of my lips.

“Oh,” she teases. “Do I detect a smile?”

I smother the instinct with a grunt. “Hold still.”

Cove is about to ask why, but my fingers winding through her hair stifle the impulse. I massage the roots to produce more foam. She sighs in appreciation as I knead the layers. While the cascade falls around us, I wash and rinse her hair until she melts fully into me, the press of her ass into my cock threatening my self-control.

Her knowing chuckle filters through the air. At which point, I’m done with this.

With a growl, I spin her around. She smiles at me, her eyes luminescent rings of teal that rob me of oxygen and restraint. I haul her into my arms, forcing her limbs to link around my waist.

With her astride me, I maneuver us into the pond, where my legs shift into a viper’s tail. Cove stares at me while fondling my mane. The endearing contact temporarily mellows my appetite for her. Inspired, I circle the pond, coasting us through the lily pads.

“You didn’t wake me,” she says.

“You needed sleep,” I tell her.

“I could say the same.”

“I had a good reason.”

“You had better. How long ago did you get home?”

Home. The word chips at a spot inside my chest, a fortification that was once impenetrable. At the north end of the bank stands a large hut wrought of stone and glass, with a dock jutting from the front steps. I cannot see it, but I know its shape, hear its subtle creaks, and smell its newness in this cave. Several times, Cove has also described it to me.

My brothers, Cove’s sisters, and the river Faeries who haven’t isolated themselves from us helped with the construction. We finished erecting the house several days ago, though it would have taken longer if Faeries lacked speed.

Likewise, this accounts for why my den has been refurbished so swiftly. As for the rest of The Deep, the restoration is vaster and has been less expedient.

I fail to detect Lotus in the vicinity. Not only does the snake reside with us, but he shadows Cove everywhere. If the creature is not swimming in this pond, he must be nesting inside.

I tuck a lock of teal beneath Cove’s rounded ear. “I only just arrived.”

She winds her arms around my neck. “Wonderful. Then you’re not going anywhere for the rest of the night. From this second forth, I’m claiming you all to myself. Not that I haven’t claimed you officially, but I mean, especially for what’s left of this evening. As it is, we haven’t been keeping to the normal dawn and dusk routines, which makes sense with everything that needs to be done, but still, we’ve been making progress. This is all to say, it’s going to be fine. Between reinforcing The Deep and meeting with your brothers, my sisters, and our allies, a respite is overdue for whatever lies ahead. I have demands, and this is one of them. That’s the rule.”

“Is that so?”

Cove nods. “If we want to do right by our worlds, we need a break, if only for a few days.”

The canals are functioning again—somewhat.

The fauna habitats are being revived—slowly.

We found Cerulean’s javelin, my daggers, and my harp—all mangled and being painstakingly repaired.

Cove has redrawn The Deep’s map. This time, she has pressed points into the lines, enabling my fingers to trace the geography.

Though, regions that were once whole are now broken into segments, due to the environment’s destruction. We are rebuilding, yet I have doubts whether this land or its inhabitants will ever be the same. The thought forces my knuckles to clench, fury stinging the tips of my fingers. However often Cove tamps down the reflex, anger still lives and breathes within me, eager to be unleashed on the next enemy that comes our way.

Fables help any fucking idiot who dares come near my light.

Scorpio, for one. He is blind but still out there, as are other enraged Faeries.

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