14. Aurelia

Chapter 14

Aurelia

T he dragon had a vicious gleam in her eyes, but I didn't back down. I'd heal faster now.

"We sell that elixir at cost. In all kingdoms but yours, it is offered at that price. Yours, however, has a heavy tax applied to it that we have no control over. Your royals are price gouging, not us. As for the rest of your accusations?" She shrugged. "I'll just have to make sure you aren't able to tell on us. But know I have no qualms about breaking the rules of your kingdom to stop people from dying. If they weren't so greedy, no one would be in this mess. Now it's gone way too far."

Learning about the cost took the wind out of me. They'd been trying to do the right thing, and were clearly the only people who had.

I sagged, not really caring about the rest. I'd thrown it in there to add weight to my claim, but it was clear their primary goal was to stop Granny's drug trade. They were taking desperate measures, something I understood.

"I understand." I felt defeated, but it served no purpose to challenge the dragon queen further. Doing so would certainly end with me thrown in a dungeon.

I sat back down.

The queen tilted her head, her confusion evident. "That's it?" She looked at Weston, and then back to me. "No follow-up? No rage?"

"She's not a dragon, love," Hadriel said, still behind me. "She's as balanced and easy as Weston usually is."

"Not always," Vemar offered.

"I'm almost disappointed," the queen muttered, turning for her throne. "I wanted to see how fast she is."

"Lightning," Vemar said. "That little thing ran around me so fast I didn't even know what was happening."

"Calia," the queen said.

The woman with the beautiful indigo eyes and white-blond hair reached beside her and came back up with my lantern. I frowned at it in confusion. I had no idea why this would be involved in the questioning. The product I took kicked in at that moment, though, making it almost hard to care.

"Where did you get this?" Calia asked, holding up the lantern.

"It was a gift."

"From whom?"

"Granny. Like I told you, she knew I liked fairies. She brought me a fairy lantern."

"Why did you travel with it?"

I frowned at her as I leaned back farther into my chair, getting more comfortable. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, enjoying the pleasant sensation.

"I said, why did you travel with it?"

I opened my eyes. "Why does anyone travel with a lantern? To see by. I didn't have access to my animal until recently, remember? I had it with me when I was captured... in the dark ."

The queen's eyebrows slowly lifted. The golden-eyed king continued to stare menacingly. Thankfully, the product made it much less terrifying.

"Yes, but why did you have a lantern that didn't work?" Calia pushed, and I squinted an eye at her.

"It works if you know how to turn it on. It is magical. Like the fairies. Here, give it to me and I can show?—"

She ran her finger along the top then the bottom in a practiced motion. The lantern flared to life, the color within perfectly matching her eyes.

I furrowed my brow. "Well, if you knew how to turn it on, why did you say it didn't work?"

She turned it off before walking over to me and holding it out. "You do it."

"She is really, really confused," Hannon said, grinning. "And very relaxed. The latter must be the drugs."

"Yes, Hannon, we could tell by her really, really confused expression and really, really laid-back posture," the queen replied, and I grinned. It was like two siblings talking instead of a queen and her advisor. Surreal.

I took the lantern, repeated the process, and watched it flare to life.

I held it out to her, shrugging one shoulder. "I've dropped it a couple times, but it's really resilient. I guess I won't need it now, though. Too bad, kinda. I really enjoyed it. It's so pretty."

"I wasn't able to turn it on," Weston said.

Calia's frown down at me was pronounced. "This lantern was a gift from the fairy kingdom court to the royals of the Red Lupine kingdom."

"Oh," I said on a release of breath, realizing what she was getting at. "It was stolen?"

"It appears so... unless their royals gave the lantern to Granny. Which, in all honesty, they might have. With the gift was a note telling the Red Lupine Kingdom that when they were worthy, they could make this lantern glow."

She continued to stare down at me.

"She is still really, really confused," Hannon supplied.

" I am also really, really confused," Vemar said. "What's the point that she and I are clearly missing, Kind Lady?"

"The point is," Calia said, "those royals will never be worthy, and therefore never able to use this lantern. In order to make this lantern glow, you have to be of fairy blood."

"Before you say it, Hannon," the queen said, "we can all tell that she is still very, very confused."

I laughed incredulously, pressing two fingers to the center of my forehead. If this kingdom didn't accuse me of one thing, it was another. It shouldn't surprise me at this point. I still hadn't worked out what the mind-fucking was all about.

I folded my hands in my lap. "Both my parents were shifters," I said patiently. I would not be randomly stabbing anyone with scissors this time. "I didn't know my father, but he worked in a shifter-run court. Both of my mother's parents were shifters. My mom would've said if they weren't. No one she knew had ever visited the fairy kingdom. She hoped I might get to see it one day. There is simply no way, not even a slight chance, I have fairy blood."

"Let me see that lantern, Calia," the queen said. Calia handed it off. "How do I get it to work again?"

Calia showed her. Just as when Weston had tried it, nothing happened. The king was next, then Hannon. None of them could get it to light.

"You may recall from Aurelia's journals that her father was from the Flamma kingdom," Weston said. He briefly recounted my mom's history.

The queen looked at the king, then over at the gardener from that morning. "Ring any bells, Nyfain? Arleth?"

"I've already got it on my list of things to look into it," Hadriel said. "I heard that on the road. I'm burning with curiosity."

"And so her story becomes more complicated..." Nyfain said.

The others in the room tried the lantern, even Weston, who had tried it before. Through my haze of relaxation, I watched their fingers move over the surface in the right ways and in the right order. Nothing happened. As I watched, my apprehension grew, slowly burning away the influence of my product as my stomach started to tighten.

"No." I chuckled in disbelief and shook my head, my mind spinning. "This is ridiculous."

"Incredulity, fear, discomfort," Hannon said. "She definitely didn't know that."

I really liked Hannon, but he was starting to annoy me.

Sorry, he mouthed, and I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"Did Granny know about that lantern, do you think?" Weston asked softly.

"Pain," Hannon said.

"I don't have fairy blood," I said with certainty, unwilling—or maybe unable—to believe there might be one more thing about me that I hadn't known, one more life-altering revelation hidden from me. "I don't. That's ridiculous. My mom didn't even have magic."

"She didn't have an animal," Hadriel murmured. "You said she had an effect on people, right? That they might have hated her in one moment but wanted to take her out in the next. Didn't you say that? She might've had a different magic."

I shook my head harder as pain broke through the lingering haze of my product. My mom had always had an effect on people—I'd noticed that, yes. They would be staring at her in hate-filled animosity one moment, then have moony stars in their eyes the next. Having magic, even a different, non-shifter magic, would've saved her life. It would've changed the whole trajectory of her future. And mine.

Then again, if she'd had magic like that, wouldn't she have used it to keep those men from breaking her body and setting fire to our home?

"But who would she have gotten it from?" I said logically, flames dancing in my memory. "My grandparents were wolves."

"A recessive gene, maybe?" Vemar tried. "A skeleton in the closet? Are they alive to ask?"

"No, they died when I was little." The tears building threatened to break free. "I can't have fairy blood. And if by some chance I did, which would be mind-blowing even without their magic, Granny couldn't have known about that lantern."

"Why is that?" Calia asked, setting it on the table. Her tone had softened noticeably, her expression full of compassion.

My emotions wobbled a little harder.

"Because if she knew about that lantern, then it would mean she'd kept another colossal secret from me, and I don't think I could handle that." It seemed I hadn't really known Granny at all. I'd created the illusion of a mother figure, and she'd happily let me believe it was reality. "I'm tired of being hurt. I'm tired of finding out things—" I wiped a tear away angrily. "I want to go now. I'm done with all this. I'm guilty, I'll be hanged at dawn, whatever. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Let her go," Hannon said quietly, a tear trailing down his cheek as well. "She's had enough."

Weston was beside me in a moment, helping me out of the chair and walking with me toward the door, his arm wrapped around me protectively. I breathed in his scent as I fell into his comforting embrace. Vemar followed as Hadriel took a little detour toward the crates.

"Boop," he said, taking one of the products.

"Are you serious right now?" the queen asked him just as he caught up to us. Weston opened the door.

Hadriel turned and called out over his shoulder, "I'm telling you, it's a good time."

Vemar went back for one as well. "Boop."

"Unprofessional," the queen hollered as we all exited into the hallway.

"Don't worry about any of that," Hadriel offered assuredly. I let Weston guide me. I didn't care where we went, as long as it was away from that room and those people. "We have time, Aurelia. We can do anything given enough time, even change their minds."

"Was she a fairy?" I asked a moment later, thinking back to the woman with the white-blond hair.

"Yes," Weston answered. "She's a member of the high court. She was in the demon dungeons with me, and also with Hadriel and the queen."

"At least I finally got to meet a fairy," I murmured, my lip wobbling at the magnitude of that. Of what my mom would say to hear that, how happy she'd be. "Or at least be grilled by one. Though if that lantern was intended to be a slight by the fairy court, why would they care if it was stolen?"

"A pile-on for these proceedings, maybe? Who knows," Hadriel said. "Don't let it worry you, love. I can get you a better one, I'm sure of it. She might even give that one back, since you can use it."

I didn't want that one back. I didn't want any of the gifts I'd gotten from Granny over the years. They all felt cheap now, dirty. Tainted. I wanted to put all this behind me and try to heal my tattered heart.

"What do you say we head to my quarters? It's only fair I let you poke around my things for a while," Weston offered. "Then we can run you a hot bath and maybe read for a bit. Or would you rather head back to the tower? Or... somewhere else?"

I could hear in his voice and feel through the bond his desire to help me. He worried over my wellbeing. He even offered me the space I'd thought I needed, giving me time to reflect on my own if I wanted.

I didn't want those things right now. I wanted him . Needed him, maybe. Craved him, definitely. I didn't give a shit if it was a true mates thing. I wanted to relish in his support and his body.

I leaned a little harder into him. "I guess I do owe you a snoop."

"Hadriel, tell Leala to bring her some things," Weston said, slowing at a corner. "I'll place an order for dinner." He looked down at me. "Or would you rather cook?"

I smiled, reaching out for his hand. "Tomorrow, maybe. Not tonight."

"Tomorrow, then." He threaded his fingers into mine. "We'll get you a room that can be set up for cooking, how's that?"

"Goodbye, Captive Lady," Vemar said, giving me a thumbs-up as he and Hadriel continued down the hall. "Keep your head up, okay? The mind-fuck is still weird, but I'm getting used to it. I feel a little like Hannon around you, I think."

"He keeps going on about a mind-fuck," I murmured as Weston tugged me with him.

"Is that why you got into an altercation with him earlier?"

"No. Well, yes, kind of. I think he was poking at me to see if I was being genuine, and I... snapped. Rather, my wolf did and I went with it. It took me a moment to come to my senses."

"He was impressed by how fast you moved."

"I doubt he was as impressed by the scissors sticking out of his leg."

"You don't know dragons very well." He stopped at the end of a corridor. The double door was painted a deep forest green befitting a wolf.

"No fuchsia?"

"Not in this life." He took out a key to unlock the door. "The queen was mystified at how you were able to get out of the tower. She was captive there for a time. She had to be let out."

"She was a captive? Is that the love language of you people?"

He didn't answer, instead pushing open the door and stepping aside. "Enjoy your snoop. I think I'll grab a book."

"Wow." The interior was enormous, at least twice the size of my cottage—and that was just the main sitting room and dining area. He had a sliding glass door that led out onto a little patio where I could see a tiny garden with vibrant pink and red and yellow flowers. Through an archway in the back was a large bedchamber and attached washroom. The bed was the biggest I'd ever seen, and from what I could see at this vantage point, the bath was just as absurd.

"Big enough for two dragons. In human form, anyway," he explained as he shrugged out of his dress shirt and draped it over the back of a chair.

"Sir." Entering the room was a man wearing one of the castle uniforms, this one in deep forest green, like the door. He was clean-shaven, with excellent posture, and bowed gracefully before Weston. "Do you require anything, Beta?"

"Send for dinner, if you would, Niles." Weston paused, looking at me. "Wine?"

"Yes, please," I answered demurely, smiling at Niles. "Thank you."

"Of course, madam." He bowed at me before retreating back into the hall, and I nearly laughed at the absurdity.

"If only my mom could see me now. She would think this was all an amazing treat, like my own little fairytale with an appropriately tragic ending. She had a dark sense of humor."

"Speaking of..." Weston entered the bedchamber. When he returned a moment later, he held in his hand a bound book with a lock on the front cover. "I got you another journal. I thought maybe you'd want to start fresh." He held up a little key with a heart-shaped metal handle. "It locks. To deter the snoops."

My breath hitched as I reached for it. The only gifts I'd been given since my mom passed had been from Granny, and I knew I'd never forget how dirty all those now felt. She'd manipulated me, using false pretenses to buy my happiness, my compliance.

This was... nothing like that. I could see it in the open way Weston looked at me as he handed it over. I could feel the warmth in the bond. There were no strings attached. No expectations. He was trying to do something kind. The little lock was a nice touch, emphasizing his apology while giving me an outlet, a fresh start.

It was endearing, touching, lovely, and, honestly, a little overwhelming. It was what I'd thought Granny's gifts had meant, though the bond proved his motivation was true. This gift held no illusions.

"Granny never said she was sorry," I murmured, feeling the soft cover before running my finger over the intricately decorated metal clasp. "She waited long enough after a punishment for the sting to go away, then she'd get me a present. The last one was that red cloak. She waited two months after I was punished for veering too close to the perimeter. It had seemed out of the blue, but after reading my journals and realizing her pattern, I know it wasn't."

"I hope you don't think this is me trying to gloss over the part I played in your journals?—"

"No," I interrupted, laying a hand on his chest. "No, I don't."

"I thought maybe you'd want a fresh journal so that you could write down your thoughts and feelings, or even just memories of your mother, in a journal that hadn't been sifted through by others."

I smiled up at him, taking in his handsome face, his expressive gaze, as warm emotions rolled through me. "I know. It occurred to me Granny never apologized only because you have, many times. For many things. I was just thinking about how different it feels to get a gift from you than it did from her. Thank you. This is really thoughtful." I hugged the book against my chest. "I love it."

"I'll have your other journals returned to you tomorrow." He pushed down his slacks, and my gaze caught on the hard bulge between his legs and those powerful thighs. "The notes you were making..." He paused to turn and drape the pants over his shirt, and I caught sight of the scars crisscrossing his large back.

I reached out to trace one, as entranced as ever by his magnificent body, his perfect physique, but the need to understand his past pain and learn his tortured experiences tugged at me.

"A whip mark, right?" I asked softly.

He stilled against my touch. "Yes."

I ran my thumb across a small circle at the bottom of his back. "And this?"

"I'm not sure. A knife, maybe. Or a hot poker. I can't remember what it was. I just remember it went in deep and crippled me for weeks. I didn't mind it, though, because that meant they couldn't use me for their parties, their sexual desires. I spent my convalescence splayed on my stomach on the stone floor, torn between wishing for death and thinking of ways to burn the whole place to the ground."

I traced another line, thinking of what that must have been like. I'd been lied to and punished, but I'd had a bed and my own home. Sometimes it had gotten so bad that I'd wished for death, but ultimately, I had thought I could leave. Maybe that had been an illusion, but I hadn't actually been behind bars. I hadn't been in a little cell. The glaring difference between his past horrors and mine was that at least I'd had the impression of freedom. I'd had a lot of shit thrown at me in a very small span of time, but it was nothing like what he'd endured. I needed to remember to be thankful for that—thankful I was out of it now, thankful I could try to make things right.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," I murmured, my heart hurting for him.

He reached out, bracing his hand against his wardrobe. "Thank you for saying that."

Driven by impulse, I leaned forward and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades, feeling more connected with him in that moment than at any point on our journey. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want to ruin it by overthinking. Leaning away again, I dropped my hand and turned for his bathroom. Might as well start my snoop by investigating his hygiene.