Page 65 of Atop the Faerie Throne
“Even if we knew the way, it’s a fortress,” I add forlornly.
Unlike Siabetha, any battle for Fellgotha would be bloody and long.
“If there was a way,” Mab says, staring hard at the inked waves on the map that mark the end of the world as the fae know it. “Maeve or I would’ve done it. We would never have left our daughters to inherit a realm where the possibility of invasion from such a threat existed if there was another choice.”
Of course they wouldn’t. My grandmothers are staunchly protective to their cores.
Which means our only hope is catching Elatha before he makes it to the open ocean.
Twenty-One
Caed
It’s well past midnight, and the feast which has been going on since sundown shows no signs of stopping any time soon. The bonfires across the outer city paint the night in shades of orange, casting flickering shadows from the fae gathered around them. Rose retired hours ago, smelling faintly of fae wine and grinning as she dozed on her feet. The púca carried her up to her room, despite her objections, and ever since, I’ve been silently wondering if the dullahan would murder me if I tried to join her.
Goddess, the taste of her lingered on my tongue for days after we mated. Now the only things I can taste are smoke and failure.
Perhaps I should grab some of the elk roasting over the main fire. The scent of sizzling meat is almost mouth-watering enough to overcome the nausea that’s been plaguing me since my father got away.
“You’re pining,” Prae murmurs, coming to stand beside me at the edge of the smaller fire I’ve chosen for myself.
The fae who were here earlier found an excuse to piss off as soon as I approached. Now it’s just the two of us, conspicuouslyleft to our own devices as the other soldiers celebrate the miracle that is surviving another battle.
“And you’re wearing one more mark than you were this morning,” I point out, smirking. “What happened to all of those times you told me you’d never marry a fairy prince?”
Now she has two of them.
“Shut it.” She shoves me, then changes her mind and snatches up my arm, examining the tattoo. I know what she’s seeing. A wolf’s head in inky black, followed by the ghost of a stag’s skull, then a top hat, and a harp.
Everyone except the dullahan has forgiven me for what happened. They all trust me.
Prae’s thumb traces over the stag’s skull like she can complete it by touch alone. “You need to go and schmooze that winter prick until?—”
“Absolutely not,” I argue. “He barely tolerates me as it is. He’s as good as admitted he’s only trying because of Rose.”
“I don’t think you understand, Caedmon.” Prae drops my arm. “I’m mated. I can’t exactly murder Florian’s brothers-by-mating if you get your ass killed in thirty days.”
Thirty-three. But who’s counting?
“I’m glad you chose him,” I mumble, holding my hands out to warm them over the flames. “He’s a good male, and his power is finding shit, right? Never again will I have to listen to you rant about how males can’t find your clit.”
It had been her favourite tirade before she started being regularly satisfied by that Autumn Court shithead. I suppose her being mated comes with some small mercies.
Before Rose, when I’d never so much as touched a female like that, it was downright horrifying to hear. Some of the males she was so disappointed with had bragged so openly about their own prowess, and I had no experience and no one to teach me what to do.
I would rather die than admit it, but I’m actually grateful for the redcap’s intervention.
Prae scoffs. “We’re not here to discuss my sex life.”
“Nor mine.” I shove a hand through my hair in exasperation. “Look. I’m trying. He’s trying. It’s not… it’s not easy for males like us.”
Admitting that I understand the unseelie bastard better than any of the other males in Rose’s Guard is actually painful, but having been in that snow-bound wasteland, I do.
We’re both bastards. Both unwanted by our fathers. Both distrustful of others and ready to expect the worst. Neither of us knows what to do with the concept of friends. In fact, I’m lucky I have Prae. Without her, maybe I’d be as much of an insufferably uptight prick as he is.
We both love Rose enough that we’re trying.
“Invite him to spar. That worked with the wolf.”
