Page 112 of A Song of Air
And this Unseelie, she wondered if he really was Weylyn’s brother.
As they trailed behind him and his beasts, Bryson couldn’t help shooting glances his way and Weylyn’s, comparing the two. She couldn’t see with complete clarity, but she could make out the same hair color and length. The Unseelie male was a few shades darker than Weylyn, but when he flashed his teeth, that smile was the same.
But if the two were brothers, then that meant...
“You’re Unseelie?” she whispered.
It was Cassimir who answered, a vicious chuckle in his words. “Only half in blood.”
Weylyn sighed. “Using blood quantum to make the connection between us seem like a small thing and make me feel lesser? How beneath you.” He turned to Bryson. “Yes. Half in blood.”
She tried to wrap her mind around that bit of information. Weylyn was half Unseelie. Honestly, it... it explained so much about his true nature. The viciousness, the mischievousness, all of it simmered down to the fact he had Unseelie blood coursing through his veins.
Unseelie were notorious for being tricksters and creating chaos where they went. It was in their nature to be cruel, a part of who they were down to their very bones.
“Why were you banished?” she asked.
Weylyn did not answer, and it prompted a chuckle from Cassimir, though he did not answer either.
Alright then, Bryson thought.
“We are nearly there,” Cassimir announced from the front of the line. “Just in time for the fun to begin.”
Weylyn stiffened at her side as they walked up a slope that plunged down. The roots of trees gnarled above the earth, twining through with thick rusted iron that looked like it had eroded on the ground for years. Below, there was nothing but flickers of shadow and color, and squinting only made her eyes hurt and her temples throb.
“Little mate,” Weylyn dropped his voice low, urgently. “When we arrive, all I ask is you keep quiet.”
“What?”
“We are going to a dangerous place. A single word will have the Fae there tearing you apart. Keep quiet. Do not speak. Let me protect you. Okay?”
Fear in its true form seized through her insides. A part of her wanted to argue, but it was only that frozen sensation that assured she didn’t. She nodded and turned forward.
Each step was painful, like the iron zinged through her body. She nearly tripped several times going down, gasping when she couldn’t stay upright. Weylyn didn’t rush to help her, and his own steps were rocky as they made their way down, down, down...
The noise popped within seconds. Silence, and then it burst all around them. It collided into her system, everything way too overwhelming. Her shoulders pitched up to her ears as if it could drown out the sudden impact of the voices banging against her ear drums. Bodies in all shapes and sizes crowded around them.
It felt like some sort of awful procession as they were hauled in chains through the throng of people. Sneers and jeers rang high and despite herself, Bryson found herself leaning closer to Weylyn to find comfort in his body.
But as soon as that comfort came, it ended.
A dais rose from the ground. A throne made of stone stood before them. Bryson followed the path from the bottom of the dais all the way to the top, catching sight of a slender leg and higher still to the person sitting there.
“Bow before Ineciu Morgayne, Queen of the Unseelie Court and all things that die.”
Something shoved into Bryson’s spine, forcing her to the ground. Her knees buckled and cried out in pain as they hit. Beside her, Weylyn was also forced to his knees.
Then once again, there was silence. A single beat before a sultry purr rang out around them, the sound coming from the woman on the throne. The Queen of the Unseelie.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled in a way that was surprisingly familiar. “What a surprise it is to see you again, my son.”
