Page 86 of The Longing

“She hasn’t…she didn’t…die, did she?”

“It takes more than a Wyrm growling at her to kill Queen Mab,” Fenrother rasps. He takes my chin between finger and thumb even more gently than he bound my arm. “And it would take more power than the Yeavering has to take you from me. You are mine, Alice, until the stars go out.”

ALICE

When Fenrother kisses me, it’s like he’s never been gone. I know I am in the one place I should be, with him, in the Yeavering.

In his arms, with his lips, he chases away all the Faerie, all their hills and palaces, and it becomes us, only us, against the worlds.

Fenrother will keep me, he will protect me, and he will tell me the truth. My heart beats hard within my chest, a chest swollen with love for my monster, who, as it turns out, is the least monstrous thing in the Yeavering after all.

As Fenrother releases me, there is the sound of beating hooves. I stare up at him, and he shrugs sheepishly.

“I needed some help getting into the Faerie hills,” he says.

Warden stands grim faced, arms folded, his chestnut flanks streaked with what looks like bodily fluids and his chest covered in soot.

Next to him is a towering, red-eyed creature with what looks like a long mottled cloak hanging all the way to the ground, and a glowering werewolf, all shaggy fur and terrifying jaws, dripping with blood.

“They helped you?” I say, my voice suddenly very small in the presence of all these monsters.

“Warden, you know.” Fenrother rubs the back of his neck. “The Bluecap is Linton, and the Barghest is Reavely.”

“Plenty of death here,” Reavely growls.

“Barghest?” I press myself against Fenrother. “The black dog…”

“Wherever I go, there is death, little human.” Reavely gives me a deep bow. “Here too. Many Faerie have met their end as it was their time.”

“I thought the Faerie were virtually indestructible.” I turn my gaze back to Fenrother.

“Not where a Barghest is concerned,” he says. “Which is why Lord Guyzance had him chained up.”

Reavely shrugs. “And probably will again, if I don’t make myself scarce. I’d like to say it’s been good, Fenrother, but”—he gazes at the flaming palace—“I’ve never liked fire much.”

He melts away into the shadows. And I notice Linton is gone too.

Warden gives us both a searching look. “Your mate is unharmed?” he asks.

“She will be well,” Fenrother responds. “And she is with me, so no further harm will come to her or my young.”

“Treasure her,” Warden says. “Because mates should always be treasured.”

His head swings to one side, as if he’s heard something. But with the flames roaring, and with one ear pressed hard against Fenrother’s chest so I can hear his heart, any other noises are lost to me.

However, I do give Fenrother’s hand a squeeze.

“Thank you, Warden,” I say. “For all your help.”

Fenrother’s eyebrows knit. I squeeze a little harder. The eyebrows unknot slightly.

“Thank…you,” he says.

But Warden has already gone. I catch a flash of his hooves as he trots away.

“Time to leave,” Fenrother says, lifting me into his arms. He doesn’t bother to change his form, wings beating down easily as he rises up over the flaming buildings until we burst through the clouds into the sunshine.

It’sas if I’ve been living in darkness and Fenrother is the light. I snuggle against him and close my eyes as the warmth of both his body and the sunshine warm my bones. If I thought sleep was impossible after everything, I was wrong.

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