Page 87 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
“We do not discriminate against any group of people, and we help those in need. This is how we are different,better, than Titania and her Truth Templars,” Aldrin announces. “Those closest to these fine nymphs targeted tonight—take them into your home and care for them. Any who are able-bodied and willing, help us clean up and rebuild their home and business.”
It takes us until almost dawn, but all traces of the Truth Templars’ destruction are corrected. The shop is cleaned of ash. The burnt plaster walls are replaced with beautiful wood paneling grown from the foliage all around, complete with shelving. The stolen silverware and coin are replaced and an array of blooms are grown from Spring magic for the nymphs to imbue with their unique essence, harvest and style in the morning to sell in their shop.Apparently, their wares are popular because some of their flowers have specialized healing abilities, some release a strong floral scent that fills a home for weeks on end, and others sing an enchanting melody for hours after being fed a drop of raw magic.
My body shakes with fatigue by the time we are done, but the achievement feels so gods-damned good. Tonight was empowering, after a long time of sitting on my hands and pretending to be less than I am.
The shadows thicken as I extinguish the fire orbs illuminating my bedchamber in the palace. The only light is the silvery moonbeams entering through the barred window. I tap my foot against the ground as I sit on the edge of my armchair, waiting. The minutes roll by, seeming like an eternity.
It was only yesterday that I last saw Aldrin before the nymphs’ burnt-out florist shop, and he promised me he would come for me tonight when the clock struck eight, but so much can change in a day. I watch the ornate timepiece on my counter, noting he is already ten minutes late.
The fact that we revealed his return to the city unsettled me the moment I returned to my bed at daybreak and the adrenaline of the fight wore off.How far and fast can word spread among the people?
Titania will either come for him, or she will disregard it as rumor. As for my use of magic last night, and my presence outside the palace, I am sure she is arrogant enough to dismissboth as lies. To believe I couldn’t possibly outsmart her and work against her right under her nose.
The shadows thrash in the corner of the room, thickening to the blackest void. My body tenses up as I remember the monsters that stepped out of the darkness in the ballroom. It doesn’t matter that they are supposed to be our allies—they are still terrifying.
Aldrin and Valentine materialize from the shadows’ midst. I suck in a sharp breath as my heart misses a beat, the shock of two men suddenly appearing in my bedroom quickly replaced by the thrill of seeing my mate again. I throw myself into his muscular arms, which wrap tightly around me.
“Hold on, dear heart,” Aldrin murmurs in my ear. “It is a rough ride.”
My stomach bottoms out and my head spins as the shadows engulf us, moving through space. The sensation is like free-falling, weightless, through the blackest abyss. I cling to Aldrin for dear life, my fists bunching up the fabric of his tunic.
I don’t know how he did this for hours or maybe even days on end when he traveled to the Assassins of Belladonna’s Haven of Death. Bile rises up my throat to an unbearable point, but when I think I can take it no longer, our feet finally hit the ground.
Alone, I would have fallen ungracefully on my ass. Aldrin lands with his legs spread and knees bent to take the impact, holding me up by the waist. He delicately places me on my feet like I am the most precious thing in the world, then puts a hand on either side of my face and lifts my chin so I look up into his eyes.
“In the next days and weeks, we will face our greatest battles, but tonight is just for us.” He leans down and places the softest kiss on my lips. I want to deepen it, to slide my tongue into his mouth and taste him fully, but he pulls away and glances atValentine, who raps his fingers against the tree he leans against with impatience.
“I will return to collect you at midnight sharp.” Valentine pulls out his pocket watch, glimpses the time, then snaps it shut. “And for the love of darkness, please make sure you are wearing clothes.” Inky tendrils materialize around him, rapidly growing then constricting all at once around his form, and he disappears.
I give Aldrin a questioning look, but he just tips his head to indicate our surroundings, a smug grin filling his face. I drag my eyes from him for the first time since arriving and my brain stutters to a stop, trying to process the sight.
A shallow creek gurgles over smoothly polished black stones, steam curling off its surface. The crystal-clear water is illuminated cyan by the many tiny water sprites buzzing through it. The crash of a small waterfall in the near distance promises a deeper pool just beyond the treeline.
Both banks of the slowly flowing creek are covered with pink-capped mushrooms of varying sizes, some as small as my hand and others taller than a building. I marvel at the megastructures, feeling dwarfed by them. A constant stream of silvery glitter seems to fall from the burgundy gills of their undersides, clogging the air and floating away on the breeze.I blink multiple times at all the colors and lights.
Aldrin pulls off his boots and steps into the creek, letting out a small sigh and tipping his head back as the water laps around his ankles. I remove my shoes, wrap my skirts around my arm and join him.
The water is the perfect temperature; warm enough to melt the tension from my sore feet. There is power brimming through it, but the sprites that dart away from my every step are not its source.
“Are these healing waters?” I ask, remembering the pool he brought me to after we first met during a battle.
“You feel it too?” He takes my hand in his. “It is said that the power of the gods hums through these waters.”
“The true gods or the fae gods?” I mock.
“The Tuatha Dé Danann may be lesser gods, shaped and given life by the Creator, ruled over by the Eternals and eventually consumed by the Soul Ripper, but they are still gods,” he chides.
I scrunch up my face. My biological paternal grandfather, Nissien, was Tuatha Dé Danann and it is too much to believe I descend from a deity, even a lesser one. It feels like a betrayal to my human grandfather Ronan, who raised us, to think of Nissien in that way. “They are just some powerful, twisted beings that cast themselves as gods and demanded to be worshipped because they kidnapped some humans and bred with them, creating a new race.”
“They did more than that,” Aldrin laughs. “Yes, perhaps the birth of the high fae was a simple mixing of races, but what about the low fae? The Tuatha Dé Danann combined their essence, maybe even part of their souls, with the waters, trees, forests, the darkness itself, to bring them about. This world was formed from nothing but their magic, and as their power fades from here, this land crumbles to nothingness in great voids.”
The creak deepens and the sound of rushing water intensifies, but I can’t drag my eyes away from Aldrin as he speaks.
“The Tuatha Dé Danann may not be a non-sentient superpower like the Creator that births stars, worlds and life from nothing but raw matter—or its equal counterpart the Soul Ripper, that devours worlds and entire civilizations when it is their time to go, turning them into nothing but fodder for the Creator—but they do have true power. Many who actually believe that our realm is dying think the Tuatha Dé Danann cansave us. I’m not so sure it would be worth the price it came with. Come, I want to show you something.”
We crest a rise and the full view of the small valley opens up before us. The sight is breathtakingly beautiful. A smile forms on my lips alongside a lightness in my heart.
There isn’t one tall waterfall dropping into a pool, but many crashing in tiers where multiple creeks combine and drop down a stairway of platforms. There must be a hundred in total, illuminated with that cyan light of the sprites. The color is even reflected by the steam that rolls off the surface.
