FAIRIES AND WOLVES
Alex
Raven Hall was an impressive, flamboyant mansion, closer in style to Buckingham Palace than to an average mansion. But Winterdale, the mansion where the three courts met, made Raven Hall look like a modest cottage.
It wasn’t a matter of size. With its one hundred rooms, Winterdale would fit twenty times into Raven Hall, but it was its history that made it astounding.
The walls radiated so much ancient magic that humans naturally steered clear of the mansion, feeling their skin prickle if they came too close. Rumour had it that Merlin himself—the greatest wizard ever to live, no matter what Darius said—had turned an old Roman residence into a magical fortress.
My skin tickled as I entered the hall with Irene, Myrtha, and Darius.
Irene rubbed her arms. “Do you feel it?”
“The feelings of an army of ants walking along your arms?” Darius beamed. “Yes. It’s magic. The courts meet here for this reason. There’s so much magic in this mansion that our powers don’t work. We are mere humans. There is no chance for us to attack each other.”
Myrtha tilted her head. “Really? We can use daggers, guns, and poison.”
“Always ready to lift the mood.” Darius sounded amused.
Irene gasped, staring at us. “It’s true. I don’t see any auras.”
We followed the butler down a wide corridor. There were no paintings hanging, but portraits and landscapes had been immortalised on the walls themselves, replacing the wallpaper. A chilly wind froze us as we strode past a snowy view of the Welsh Yr Wyddfa.
Irene shivered. “What is that?”
“A spell.” I leant closer to her. “Or a portal to Wales. I’m not sure.”
Myrtha’s teeth chattered. “This display of magic is completely unnecessary.”
“I can’t use a spell to keep you warm.” Darius wrapped an arm around her. “But I can use an old-fashioned method.”
She reddened, then paled, and flushed again. “What are you… I mean, you shouldn’t… It’s not…” She slipped away from his embrace. “I’m quite well. Thank you, I suppose.”
“You’re welcome, I suppose.” Darius grinned.
The butler opened a set of double doors and introduced us. “His Grace, Ravenhill, the Duke of the Dark Court. Lady Myrtha of the Wilis. Miss Harlowe, and Wizard?—”
“Mage.” Darius huffed. “It’s Mage Mr. Darius Strange.”
The butler arched his brow. “Mage Mr. Darius Strange.”
Darius shook his head. “Every time it’s the same story.”
Esmeralda, the Duchess of the Fair Court, welcomed us with a bright smile. Her Prussian-green silk gown was moreappropriate for a ball in Mayfair than for a meeting with vampires and werewolves. Her skin glowed with a warm golden hue similar to that of the wilis. She loved to impress.
“Ravenhill. What a pleasure to see you.” She gave a graceful nod in our direction.
I doubted she was pleased to see me.
Knight, the Duke of the Moon Court, nodded as well, but the gesture was less dramatic, and judging by his simple grey suit and unshaven face, he didn’t give a toss about impressing anyone. Broad, tall, and with eyes a deep shade of amber, he belonged to a different breed than Graves. A scar marred his cheek, running from his left ear to his chin—a blade, perhaps, which made me wonder about werewolves’ healing abilities.
The footmen helped us sit at the oval table. The chandelier was reflected in the glossy top of the table, and I couldn’t help but check that my reflection was sharp.
Seemingly reading my mind, Irene traced a finger over my reflection. “I don’t think you have anything to fear.”
A little shiver went down my spine as I imagined her finger touching my real cheek.
Three fairies from Esmeralda’s court and three werewolves from Knight’s court joined us.
