Page 14 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
Dante,Keira whispers to me.
He squats down to examine me, grabbing my chin with a gloved hand and turning my head from side to side, opening my lips to inspect my gums. Dante tsks as he places a chalice on the floor then pulls multiple vials out of the lining of his robes and tips their contents into it. Some liquids hiss as they meet whatever is in the cup. Herbs dance across the surface.
“You have absorbed almost every poison and drug we have out there. What did you do, roll about in the fields?” He laughs at the scowl I give him.
“At least I fucking made it up here,” I growl, trying and failing to get up.
“Hmmm.” Dante tips my head back, handling me as easily as a newborn babe, and forces the acrid liquid down. “This will neutralize the intensity of the toxins.”
I splutter and choke the bitter potion down. Liquid fire burns through my body, right to the tips of my extremities. The fog lifts from my mind and energy returns to me. I still feel like I have been tossed from this gods-forsaken mountain and hit every rock on the way down, but as the scratches and boils on my exposed flesh slowly knit and heal, I think I will survive.
The assassin holds out a hand and I take it, allowing him to help me to my feet.
“Congratulations, King Aldrin. Few make it past the first trial.” Dante gives me a wide smirk that crinkles the indigo runes inked across his face. “Of course, no one would have stopped you from taking the lift.”
My hands ball into fists so tight that my fingernails cut into my skin. It doesn’t help that my claws partially form. “There is a lift? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Do you think we deal with that mess every time we come home?” Laughter rings out of him. It is the same one that mocked me when I was fighting imaginary Cú Sídhe.
Embarrassment douses my anger like a bucket of icy water has been tipped over my head. I visualize how ridiculous I must have looked, swinging my sword at nothing and fighting invisible foes.
Dante walks off. “Are you coming? Or did you enjoy that trial so much you want a repeat?”
He disappears through the double-door entrance of the Haven of Death, and I hurry after him.
Iam caged and dragged through towns and treetop villages for a second day, then a third. I craft an air wield that hugs my body like a second skin, something Rainier taught me in a few stolen moments. It absorbs the impact of the rotten fruit they throw at me and causes most of the rancid flesh to roll off it.
I try to hold my chin high and straighten my spine, but each time I am paraded through a hostile village, the mounting abuse gets harder to bear.
Suddenly the sneers of all those bitter high fae crowding around us in this small treehouse settlement fill my vision. The hatred in their eyes is like a physical blow. Their shouts bounce around inside my head: insults about weak, powerless humans who have no place in this realm.
I do not cower. Iwillnot.
It is not I who deserves their ire.Who deserves to be the scapegoat to blame for their crumbling world and the downfall of the king who has never stopped trying to save them.
I tell myself all of this, but it doesn’t help emotions crowding in.
The utter despair that the Spring Court fae may never accept us as their rulers, despite all the sacrifices we make for them. The fear that we have failed before we start, because Titania has been left to rule unchecked for far too long.
My throat tightens until I choke on the minimal air wheezing in and out. My lungs seize up and I can no longer draw anything in. I close my eyes and drown in the blackness behind their lids, those screaming taunts intensifying. When I open them, all I can see are faces twisted with resentment. The impact of the rotten fruit no longer hurts my flesh, but it leaves a mark on my soul.
Focus on me, dear heart,Aldrin rumbles through my mind.Block the rest of them out and focus only on me.
I can’t keep doing this,I admit.I can’t handle it anymore.
You can. You will,Aldrin urges.The thing you don’t realize is that you are already doing it. You are more worthy than any of them. The strongest woman I have met in both realms. These fae do not deserve for you to save them from the rot, and they definitely do not deserve your pain.
I tremble, clutching his essence like a lifeline, thankful for the way he pushes aside his own rage and fear to make an oasis for me. The faces around me blur as I refuse to acknowledge them. As I go somewhere else entirely with Aldrin. Outwardly, I am the image of regal calm. Inside, I am crumbling.
Remember to breathe,he says soothingly, caressing a hand down my spine that feels so real.Follow me. Take a long breath in through your nose. Hold it in and count with me. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Let it out nice and slow through your mouth. Keira. You need to breathe.
I try to do as he says, to be strong for him, but it is so hard to drag in air. I only manage shallow gasps at first, then draw out each breath. The ghosts of Aldrin’s hands are on my shoulders, massaging the bunched-up muscles until the tension leaches from them bit by bit. My heart rate slows and the fears recedeas my magic dances within me, a reminder that I can defend myself; I just choose not to in this moment.
I am so sick of diminishing myself to make others feel big.To keep myself safe.
It brings me right back to the trauma of Finan’s court.
It won’t always be this way, and when I unleash myself upon Titania and her inner circle, they will quiver under the might of my power and fury. But today is not that day.
