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Gareth snorts a laugh.
“Thousands. Maybe more.” Chastain rises and begins to pace in front of a fancy fireplace. A fireplace. In the desert. Where there is no wood. Rich fae are so dumb sometimes.
A squeak and a snort has Chastain jumping back. Piggy Phinelas trots into the room and plops onto a wide damask pillow. He grunts, then closes his eyes.
“When is the spell going to wear off?” I stare at his pinkness, the cute curl to his tail. Maybe I like him better this way.
“Soon, hopefully. But Raywen can’t say for sure.” Chastain resumes his pacing. “She’s been trying to reverse the spell, but no luck so far. Can’t get enough magic to make it happen.”
Gareth stands and pulls me to my feet. “If that’s all we have to discuss, Beth needs to rest.”
My eyelids are already drooping.
“We’ll have more to discuss.” Chastain is still mumbling to himself. “In the morning. When Silmaran is back.” He stops pacing to give us a small nod of appreciation. “Good night. Pick any room you like that’s not occupied.”
“Sure thing.” I loop my arm through Gareth’s. “Let’s find the poshest one and build a pillow fort.”
“A pillow fort?” He takes the lead and guides me up the sweeping staircase.
“Yeah, did it when I was a kid. You sneak into one of the master’s bedrooms and stack up all the fluffiness you can find until you have your own fort. It’s great. Don’t you winter realm fae know how to have fun?”
“When winter realm fae are young, we don’t play with pillow forts. Each of us is taken into the wilderness at the age of six and left alone in a vale of twisted trees. The snow pours down thickly there, and we aren’t allowed a scrap of clothing, a weapon, or even shoes.”
“That sounds terrible.” I can barely keep my eyes open.
“It gets worse.” He peers into a darkened bedroom, shakes his head, and continues down the hall to choose another. “The ice bears come out at night, and they prowl that section of forest looking for winter fae children left to fend for themselves.”
“And here I was thinking the winter realm was the most civilized of all.” I hang on his arm as he checks another bedroom, then pushes the door all the way open. With an easy scoop, he lifts me up and carries me to the fluffy bed, the blanket made of some sort of feathery softness. Then he grabs a golden chair from along the wall and wedges it beneath the door handle.
I scoot to the pillows and flop onto my stomach as he checks the en suite and the windows. By the time the bed shifts and he’s lying next to me, I’m almost out.
“Sleep, my beloved. I will keep watch.”
“Nothing to watch,” I mumble into the pillow. “No danger anymore.”
“There’s always danger.” He settles next to me, his heat warming my side. “And we haven’t found Zatran or Cenet yet.”
The thought threatens to bring me back to consciousness. Because he’s right. They’re still out there, which means more trouble for us and for Silmaran. And not just us.
I pop my head up. “Zatran said his special guest wanted to buy every slave he could get his hands on. That’s Cenet. He was trying to buy—”
“An army.” Gareth strokes his palm down my hair. “Yes. He’s continuing the work his father started.”
“That means he’s still a threat to all the realms. We need to warn Taylor, to—”
“Shh.” He slides his hand to my back, rubbing in comforting circles. “We will. I’ll dispatch Phin once he’s back to his usual form.”
“But what if Cenet’s, I don’t know, gathering his forces right now?” I roll to my side and peer into his dark eyes.
“I’m certain he is.” He sighs. “I should have finished him. When I heard his neck crack, I thought it was enough. And I couldn’t wait another moment, not when your life was draining away.”
“You did everything you could.” I reach out and take his hand, intertwining our fingers.
“Stop worrying.” He kisses my forehead. “Get some rest. Or shall I make up some more fiction about being left in the frozen forest while surrounded by ice bears?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Fiction?”
He shrugs, a wry smile at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe we don’t leave our young out in the cold, but we certainly don’t build pillow forts ... We call them pillow castles, and they are magnificent.”
I kick his shin, and he laughs, then pulls me to his chest. “Sleep. You are safe.” He kisses my forehead again. “And loved.”
Warmth suffuses my heart at his words. I want to return the sentiment, to give him my vow of love the same as his. But the words don’t come. Not yet.
I drift off to sleep and dream of ice bears and little Gareth, his green eyes in a child’s face, and no weapon in his hand as he’s surrounded. The ice bears change and meld into one being, a cruel fae with snake eyes and a forked tongue. Instead of a forest at his back, there are legions of soldiers, all of them braying for blood, and Cenet leading the charge.
7
Gareth
She sleeps uneasily, her breathing sometimes fast and constricted. I almost wake her, but then she settles back down, her body unwinding as she clings to me.
I try to go back over the events of the day—the Bazaar, the fight, Cenet, and all the dark plans that we seem to have thwarted. But did we? Cenet escaped. Zatran, too. Where does that leave Cranthum?
“Gareth.” Her brow wrinkles in sleep as she breathes my name.
I cradle her tighter, and the furrows smooth out. My mate. She brought out my feral. The tiger that lives inside me. The jungle trees hinted at my catlike nature, but I didn’t realize a golden tiger lurked in my breast. Beth seemed to like it. Her petting verged on erotic, despite the fact that she kept referring to me as ‘cute’ and ‘fluffy.’ I smile in the dark. My beloved can get away with it. Anyone else, I’d shred.
The city is still in upheaval, skirmishes breaking out in the distance. But the relatively small number of slavers to slaves made the rebellion quick and effective. Not bloodless, as we’d hoped, but the casualties seem to be far less than I’d feared. Only the morning light will truly tell what happened, the number of the dead, and what the future of a free Cranthum might look like.
I close my eyes, my thoughts churning as I hover on the edge of sleep. This is the most rest I’m going to get, but it’s enough. I can feel my magic replenishing, my body healing the cuts and bruises from my battle with Cenet. But I can’t fully relax, not when the city is still simmering, danger lurking on the air. Hours pass, Beth settles even more, her light breaths tickling my shoulder. I cover her hand with mine, both of our palms resting over my heart. When she spoke to the crowd, sharing her story of freedom in the winter realm, I thought I might burst from pride. But she gave more than that to the slaves listening raptly, she gave them the hope they desperately needed. A way forward. And the fact she claimed me as her mate in front of them all? I grin. She’s fought it along the way, but she knows the truth of our mating. The perfect match we are for each other. She knows I belong to her and always will. That alone—a loving bond between a changeling and a high fae—is reason enough for others to believe in change.
Is this the beginning of a new world? I hope so. But I can’t predict how Queen Aurentia will react. Violently, perhaps. It’s best if Beth isn’t here when the royals from Byrn Varyndr come to call. Even so, the winter realm will eventually be dragged into the conflict. Leander will have to choose sides. And if I know him at all, he’ll choose to back the slave uprising, even if it means war with the summer queen. More war. A sobering thought.
“What a mess,” I whisper to the quiet room as the sun begins to lighten the window shades.
“Are you talking about me?” Beth playfully presses her nails into my chest.
The feral snaps to attention, as do I. “What? No. Sorry I woke you.”
“I was kind of awake already. Didn’t sleep so good. You?”
“Bad dreams?”
&n
bsp; She sighs and turns to her back, her head on my bicep. “Yeah, but they were just dreams.”
“Want to talk about it?” I reach over with my other hand and swipe the blonde hair from her forehead. It’s more golden now that it’s clean. I didn’t realize her dirty blonde hair was actually … dirty. Well, not until the bath at Chastain’s house washed it clean, leaving her natural color in all its soft beauty.
“No.”
“All right.” I have to learn to give her space no matter how badly I want to pry, to examine her fears, to show her I’ll protect her from any threat.
“Really?” She turns to look at me, her eyelids still weighted with sleep.
“Really. I mean, I’d like to know, but I’m trying to be a good mate.”
“A good mate, huh?” Her eyes open more, mischief playing in their depths. “You still crowing because I told the slaves we’re mates?”
“I don’t have to crow.” I shrug. “You said it. They heard it. Done.”
