Page 19 of Wrath of the Fae

‘If only he knew what we know,’ Lucca says. ‘Many civilians in there?’

‘A few. Most are in their homes,’ I reply. ‘Some are on the streets working or begging. There are pubs and places selling food.’ I clear my throat as we fly past a brothel. ‘It reminds me of home. Of Rosenwood.’

‘Rosenwood?’ Wolf asks.

‘The Fae-city prison back in the human world,’ Lucca reminds him. ‘Where Raven grew up.’

‘Della. Can you find the manor?’ I ask her, keen to move on. ‘That’s where I need to go.’

The owl hoots in response and veers left, further into the city.

I tingle at the sensation of flying. Of getting a bird’s eye view of a real Fae Kingdom.

Of Reid and Cyrus’s home.

They told me stories of their time here. I always imagined them as two young, troublesome boys, running around and causing havoc or dodging through these streets, bellowing with laughter.

But all I see is poverty and fear.

Just like home.

Maybe it was different before his father abandoned it for my mother’s throne.

Spek passes over another river. Beneath its surface, I see coloured stones. Deep reds and dashing blues. Shocking silver, like the stars themselves, have fallen from the sky and landed to rest in the water below.

I wonder if that’s the river they found my ruby. The one welded into the handle of the Eternity dagger they made together. The dagger that was destined to be given to their soul mate. The dagger strapped to my thigh. Lucca returned it to me soon after I arrived, telling me he saved it so I could use it to pierce the hearts of the men who made it. It hasn’t left my side since.

I see the Lord’s manor in the distance.

Maybe four or five floors high with ornate stained glass arched-shaped windows and winged statues placed on every corner. The building is black and grey, with extended, pointed arches, flying buttresses adorned with elaborate carvings, tall turrets and spiralling towers, all creating an imposing, gothic grandeur that takes my breath away.

It’s beautiful. Sad and dark, but so beautiful.

Large vines cover most of the front. Vines with black, purple and silver leaves that rustle in the faint wind. It creates a glorious pattern of colour with each gust. It’s mesmerising. Shimmering ripples dance over the fascia of the manor.

Of Reid’s home…

I let go of Della and step back, feeling that familiar wave of grief and anger all at once. I press my palm hard into my thigh, wiping away any remainder of the connection Della and I shared. Wiping away the memories of my Mates that refuse to leave me the fuck alone.

‘You good-’

‘I’m fine,’ I snap at Lucca, perhaps too harshly.

I tell Wolf what I saw. The streets. The guards. The layout of the manor.

Everything I can think of.

He listens intently and speaks to Lucca and his warriors about any alterations to the plan they need to implement. Wolf has been in this Kingdom a couple of times. But our group has no Fae from the Thirteenth Kingdom, and not even Lucca spent time there. He joined the others as a child months before they were sent to the human world, where he then endured captivity and depravity for many years.

I look at him. So strong and sweet, despite all that suffering.

The plan is made.

I watch as they prepare. As they gather their weapons and check the sharpness of their blades. I watch as the refugees and survivors gather in the trees, huddled together and keeping as quiet as possible.

Tessa remains on her arse, glaring at me with a well-refined death stare.

Those with wings will take to the skies and attack from above. Those on the ground will sweep through the streets as shadows. All will leave death in their wake.

---