Reaper hands her a mug, his lips curling. “I drew you a present.”
Her brow furrows, causing me to glance over and see the foamy skull decorating her cappuccino. “Er, thank you,” she tells him.
Reaper practically preens in response. “Now try it. Tell me it’s amazing. Because I know it is.”
Alina looks from the cup to him and back again.Rather than reply, she takes a sip. After a beat, she takes a second sip and her eyes jump up to his once more. “Thisisgood.” She sounds surprised, suggesting her reaction is genuine.
“Obviously,” Reaper drawls. Then he disappears, leaving her smiling against her cup.
It’s a pretty smile, one I hope to see more of.
But I doubt I’ll earn many happy moments throughout our conversation. It’s too serious for that.
“So, as I was saying,” I begin again. “There are lots of fae types and fae realms. And within those realms, there are kingdoms with even more potential variations.”
That last bit is new information, but she nods, listening while sipping her cappuccino.
“We live in the Netherworld Kingdom,” I go on. “And that’s in the Hell Fae Realm.”
Her nose scrunches, like she’s considering the information. But she doesn’t comment.
“The Hell Fae Realm is home to those of mixed fae origins. For example, Flame has a Shifter Fae mother and a Corpse Fae father, so he’s a mixed breed. Which, by definition, actually makes him a Hell Fae.”
“But I prefer to be called a Shifter Fae because my animal half is much more dominant than my corpse half,” Flame inserts before setting his coffee mug down. “The fae lore is complicated enough. Basically, just understand that there are several variations of our kind.”
Alina remains silent, but I can tell she’s a little overwhelmed by all the definitions.
So I back up a little.
“As I said, we’re from the Netherworld Kingdom. It’s basically where all the Death Fae and Corpse Fae live.”
She nods a little. “Okay. What about your kind?”
“Mythos Fae have their own realm,” I tell her. “Butover the last few thousand years, we’ve drifted away from it. Nowadays, most Mythos Fae choose to live in other realms,” I explain.
Her brow crinkles. “They do? Why?”
“Because our Omegas died.”
Or that’s what many of my kind believe, anyway.
But I’ll get to that in a second.
“Without Omegas, Alphas like me can’t properly procreate,” I go on, trying to help her understand. “We also can’t take a non-Omega mate. And eternity is a long time to live alone. So most of my kind have ventured to other realms to stave off boredom.”
She stares at me, her cappuccino no longer seeming to interest her at all.
I can’t really blame her. It’s a heavy topic.
“However, there are some of my kind who believe the Omegas are not really dead,” I inform her softly. “And those Alphas haven’t stopped searching the realms for traces of their existence.”
Reaper chooses that moment to return to the living area, his own cup carefully cradled in one hand. But he doesn’t attempt to speak or draw attention to himself. He simply sits on the floor across from us, his expression serious.
He might be the reckless one of our trio, but he understands how important this is. And he’s respecting my right to explain my history to Alina.
“My brother and I are among the Alphas who believe our Omegas are still alive somewhere. We’ve been hunting for over a thousand years, scouring realms and searching for alternate dimensions. Our powers are creation-like in nature, providing us with the opportunity to traverse worlds in a way few others can.”
I pause, waiting for her to react to that information.