Page 92 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
I melt against his body. We stay there, hugging, for a long time. He leans down and kisses the top of my head, my face, then presses our cheeks together. My heart flutters and squeezes happily as I wrap my legs tight around his waist.
“Have I ever told you that you are fucking incredible?” Aldrin rumbles in my ear as he runs a hand up and down my back in a tender, soothing motion.
I pull back and peer into his eyes, which gaze at me like there is nothing more precious in this entire realm. “Come back to me in one piece, Aldrin. My heart can’t take you dying one more time, even if you are revived. I think it will end me.”
He runs a thumb over my lips. “There is more to our tale than just endless struggle, fighting and war. I know it to the depths of my soul.”
My mind still basks in the afterglow of a night with Keira the next day, as I seek out my lost army. I lead my task force through a narrow path between great slabs of rock large as mountains that jut out at sharp angles. It is as though when the lands formed and changed, instead of the rocky bodies pushing upward in a triangular shape, immense sheets broke out of the earth instead, their mass hovering high above the ground, like the ribcage of some colossal beast.
Empty meadows grace the sunny plateaus of their topsides. In the shadows beneath the largest outcrop, multiple portals sit dull and lifeless in the center of a military camp.
I frown down at those living quarters of temporary tents and pavilions, all grown out of the roots, branches and vegetation of the land. There are many cooking fires and a region of level packed dirt where rows of soldiers run their drills and training. We survived like this for years in our exile, but it was not living.
“How long has my army been missing?” I turn to Cyprien, who audibly grinds his teeth.
“Years,” he grumbles. “She has been hiding them away to isolate the soldiers from the rest of the court. A person would not simply stumble across this regiment here. They would only be found by someone who knows where to look for them. Think of how many others are cloistered in thick forests or on snowy mountaintops.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Titania is truly afraid of her own armed forces. There is an advantage in that. It means they are not under her influence. How can they blindly believe her lies that Winter is attempting an invasion on our lands, when they never engage with the enemy?”
The path widens as we reach the lowest level of the valley, and Lord Cedar joins me at my other side. He traveled here from his imprisonment on his estates, Titania be damned, as soon as he received my summons. This sacrifice means he will now become one of her active targets for directly defying his sentence, but he has no plans to return home until I sit upon the throne. The rest of us transported here with Valentine from the capital, directly into the deepest shadows beneath one of the stone slabs.
“Do we know how many soldiers are in this camp?” Cedar licks his lips as he stares at their busy movements, then darts his gaze between myself and Cyprien. His thick golden braids thrash around his face, almost the same color as his olive skin. The man is a brilliant fighter and commander; he has always been a nervous politician. He never seems to be at ease unless he has a sword in his hand and a clear enemy to fight, rather than allies who might stab you in the back.
“Five hundred and twenty-three soldiers,” Cyprien bites out. “All left to rot here to guard a few portals while the Watchtower Trees and the borderland fortresses are empty.”
“That’s a lot of warriors if they decide to turn on their exiled king.” Cedar seems to pick his words very carefully. “Are yousure you need to be here, Aldrin? We can negotiate on your behalf.”
I place a hand on his armored shoulder and look him in the eye. “Trust me, I need to be here. I know the nature of the woman who leads this camp, and she will need a lot of convincing before she opens her eyes to the truth. Besides, if things get heated, then Valentine can pull us out in moments—isn’t that right?” I glance back at the assassin.
He spreads his arms wide. “You just say the word. I am at your service. If they swarm you and kill you, then I don’t get to reap the benefits of our bargain.” He smiles without warmth as a breeze kicks up and blows the blue-and-black strands of his hair that have fallen from his top knot. Those indigo runes etched into his skin almost seem to vibrate under the sun, but as a high fae, the warm rays don’t burn him like they do with the Nightmares.
I glance over my task force. We are such a small number to be confronting a potentially hostile military force. Silvan is on my heels, ever my protective guard, with Zinnia beside him, while Klara and Hawthorne form the rear.
I slow our party as we reach the camp enclosed by a high wall built from the trunks of hundreds of young trees, their canopies forming the battlements. We approach the twin wooden watchtowers that flank the main entrance.
“Halt! Who goes there?” a husky woman’s voice calls out as she leans over the railing above the gateway. In the same moment, half a dozen arrows are nocked and pointed at us from both towers.
“Your rightful king, along with the Commander of the Army, Lord Cyprien,” I call out.
Satisfaction immediately fills me when bows creak as the tug on their strings is relaxed and their arrows are lowered to the ground. I may have been voted out of my position, but I willalways hold the respect of my people, especially the army that has fought at my side through countless battles.
“My—my king,” the female guard stutters, wringing her hands. “You are in exile. I can’t let you into a military camp. Lord Cyprien and his guests may pass, but I need to send word to my superiors to inform them of your presence.”
She sends a messenger running, but doesn’t close the gate, like she is too afraid to offend me. I peer through. The camp is so small, the far side of it is visible from where I stand. Scores of soldiers peer back, abandoning their campfires and tents to watch on.
There is nothing but curiosity on their faces.
I swear some are even taking bets.
The wordcoupis mentioned multiple times in their otherwise indistinguishable murmurs, but not with the hostility I expected. Could there be enthusiasm in their tones?
Cyprien bristles beside me. “I am your camp leader’s superior and if I say King Aldrin can pass, then you allow him into your camp with open arms.”
“They aren’t exactly stopping us, are they, Cyprien?” Silvan growls.
“Let’s keep this as civil as possible. It looks like they have brought this regiment’s Commander Calypso to us anyway.” I tip my head toward the returning messenger and the tall fae woman in full battle armor at his side.
The hollow-cheeked military commander stops before me in a clatter of metal plate and chainmail, scowling beneath her helmet, lips turned down. “Is this a military coup, Aldrin, after all this time?” she says with her usual bluntness, not even flinching at the implication. “I’m surprised you haven’t arrived with an army at your back—or is my regiment the first you are trying to turn?”
