Page 98 of Wrath of the Fae Queen
My forces gather just outside the capital, in the open space of the meadows and roads leading into it, where hundreds of portals converge. We move quickly to minimize the time Titania has to react.
There are soldiers everywhere, forming their lines and unfurling my banners, dozens of feet long and streaming in air wields to reveal the sigil of my house: the Wisteria of Mythanar with its many expanding branches and roots. Wagons full of the food we commandeered from Titania’s warehouses roll out of the portals with multiple fae sitting on each and powering their momentum with air.
In the distance, I spy another column of my army swarming before the western face of the city, under Cyprien’s command. The east is darkened by the force Klara leads.
The ground shakes as dragons land around me, dropping from the sky one by one. Their colorful scales glitter in the sunlight and their huge forms cast shadows over us as others circle overhead. In their presence, many of my foot soldiers shake in their boots, but none break formation and run. In truth, the dragons may swoop down and gulp them up if they tried, ever creatures that cannot stand a show of weakness.
A smirk grows upon my face as I stalk toward King Ezekiel and his son Prince Bartholomew. Both are larger than half a dozen wagons. Where the father is gold and white, the son is midnight black, with a sheen of blue and purple rippling across his hard scales. Huge spikes run along either side of their spines, from their shoulder blades to the tips of their tails, and thick, curling horns erupt from their foreheads.
Ezekiel’s long neck curves around as he looks at me with those immense, reptilian brown eyes. He stretches out broad wings that glisten in the light, illustrating every red vein and white scar that marks their surface.
In trouble again, Aldrin, King of Spring?Ezekiel rumbles in my head.Which fae do I need to eat today?
Bartholomew joins his father.I am in the mood for destruction. My claws itch to shred something. It has been far too long since we have fought a proper war. Always with the border skirmishes.
Dragons are territorial creatures, constantly fighting other clans.Relief floods me at their support. It is so potent it almost makes my legs weak.
“By the gods, I am glad to see the two of you,” I say.
“There will be no destruction or eating of fae today,” Keira’s chiding voice calls out. She stands on Bartholomew’s back, between spikes that reach halfway up her thighs. She looks like a fucking goddess up there, dressed for battle with the sun framing her like a golden aura. The bargain allows her to join this offensive, because while we aim to stop Titania, to remove her from power, Keira does not intend to personally harm her.
Both dragons chuff.Fae, with their weak stomachs and weaker politics,Ezekiel scoffs.
Keira slides down Bartholomew’s tail, using her air magic to gracefully stop her momentum as she reaches the ground and lands on her feet. Then she is running toward me, a smile bright on her lips.
My queen looks like a ray of fucking sunshine.
Her hair is ablaze in curling whipcords of fire that thrash around a crown on her head. Every freckle upon her skin is illuminated by the flame that burns within, making her creamy flesh glitter. She wears ornate golden armor with protectiverunes etched into every panel. Her chest plate is a work of art, depicting the sigil of my house.Ourhouse.
Shoulder guards and plates cover her arms, including elaborate gauntlets. Her skirt is a stunning sheet of golden chainmail, with two splits that reach up her thighs to allow ease of movement. Beneath, she is fully protected by high, armored boots that combine greaves and cuisses in one.
She makes me feel underdressed.
By the gods, I hope she doesn’t need all that armor she wears.
She slides into my arms, her soft lips meeting mine in a frenzy. I fall into the embrace, savoring the sweet scent of her and missing the soft curves of her body at the same time. Relishing in the taste of those lips and the way their fullness feels moving against mine.
Keira threads her hands through my hair, toying with the crown of horns that has materialized there in my primal form. It does wicked things to me. Then she is pulling away and it is like the sun has disappeared behind a cloud.
“Hey, you.” Keira looks up at me with those huge doe eyes, her arms still looped around my neck.
“Dear heart,” I rumble, “are you ready to take the city with me?”
“I have been ready since the moment I stepped into Titania’s miserable court.” She traces the black lines of war ink that form across my face whenever I am ready for a battle.
“And you are prepared for the backlash? I cannot convince you to hide your magic one last time?” I almost plead.
Keira tosses her head. “I tire of diminishing myself. I am done sneaking around the palace. It is time to reveal my hand. There is nothing left for me to achieve in masquerading as weak and powerless. I have made enough contacts in her court and among the people that she surely will not be able to cage me. Not after the display we will make today.”
The dragons huff steam behind us.Take your time, Aldrin. Have a few more cuddles,Ezekiel snaps.It’s not like time is of the essence in a surprise attack.
I give Keira one last, long kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist and tipping her backward just to spite him, then run up Ezekiel’s tail. I use his spikes to propel myself forward until I am standing between his shoulder blades. It is a precarious position to be in, even while he is still on the ground, so I erect straps of air around myself to ensure I cannot fall.
I watch with my heart in my throat as Keira climbs Bartholomew, then both dragons spread their wings, beat them twice and lift off the ground.
“Circle low over my army. I have commands to give,” I say.
Ezekiel huffs, clearly not enjoying receiving orders. We drop from the skies regardless, swooping low enough that many of the warriors below duck their heads.
