Neela

Neela

I was a hunk of raw chicken thrown to a group of starving alley cats. I wouldn’t last long.

The next morning rolled around, and I didn’t want to leave bed. Ronan had invited me to his evil lair, where he hung out with his buddies, and for some reason, I’d agreed to go.

Somehow I fell into shorts and a T-shirt and waited for him out front.

“Your bratty friends hate me,” I complained as a greeting. “They’re not gonna want me soaping their backs and braiding their hair in your secret clubhouse.”

Ronan squeezed my shoulder, his onyx eyes soft, and his full lips curved into a smile. “Your hair’s too short and spiky to braid.”

“Not the point,” I grumbled as he tugged me into the lavender maze in my backyard.

“The moonway starts in the maze’s heart,” he said, taking lefts and rights through the sweet-smelling lavender. “You have to memorize the way through for next time.” He tugged me along at a jog. “And they don’t hate you. They just want you to leave Arathay or die.”

I scowled, but he missed it. “That would be funny if you were joking.”

He turned and grinned back at me, his face much freer and lighter than when I’d first met him. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll protect you.”

I snatched my hand out of his grasp and slapped his wrist. “I don’t need your protection,” I hissed.

“Trust me, I know.”

The moonway started in my purple maze and finished inside a large arch formed by a living tree that towered magnificently above us. I walked out into the sunshine and stared up at the impressive tree. It must have stood for a thousand years, a witness to my ancestors who’d used this moonway before me.

“How long has your secret clubhouse been around?”

He frowned. I was getting better at reading his emotions as my fae senses improved, and I saw the minute twitch in his forehead that indicated his displeasure. “I keep telling you it’s not a secret clubhouse. It’s the Lakehouse. Every cohort of heirs uses it to relax away from the scrutiny of the common fae, it—”

“I love how you say common fae, making it clear you’re so much better than them,” I deadpanned.

He flashed me a glance. “That’s what they’re called.”

I dismissed him with a wave. “Just something else I’ll fix when I’m the highest-ranked queen.”

A growl rumbled from his chest. “Do you want to hear this or not? The Lakehouse is used by every generation of heirs.”

“To keep you away from the grubby paws of the commoners.”

“To give us time and space to bond so our reign will be peaceful when our time comes to rule,” he growled.

“So, it’s some ancient stone castle?”

He led me around the base of the magnificent tree. “See for yourself.”

This was no secret clubhouse—it was magnificent. A modern architectural marvel balancing on the edge of a crystal blue lake. Every line and curve of the building perfectly balanced with the surroundings.

“It changes and morphs as it gets to know us, altering to reflect the personalities and needs of the current group of contenders.”

“Is it…growing?” The wooden deck overlooking the water was as smooth as polished stone, but it grew directly from the earth.

Ronan smiled proudly. “Yep. After Sebarah Ascended, the wooden elements of the house grew stronger and more beautiful. He was a very talented Grower.”

I had six days until my twenty-fifth birthday and only ten days after that to determine whether I was a Grower. Oh, and to learn how to wield my inner power. Otherwise, I’d be stuck as a low-powered fae until I died.

We wandered closer, and the intricate details of the building grew clear. I ran my fingers over the front door, which was covered in soft fur. “You said this place reflects each of the five Houses?” He nodded. “I’m guessing the wolves installed a killer sex room.”

Ronan laughed, and his contagious joy removed some of my anxiety at entering my enemies’ lair.

Inside, Leif was lounging on a large silver sofa, but he scrambled to his feet and bounded up to us, tying off the knot at the waistband of his gray sweatpants. “Did somebody say sex room?”

“You wish,” I muttered, then stalked past him.

None of the others were there, just the three of us. I tried to read the room and figure out exactly how awkward my being here was. Leif must’ve figured out Ronan was no longer against me after he’d thrown Dion to the ground for enchanting me with his food, and the wolf didn’t seem too pissed at me.

In fact, he sneaked up behind me and licked my neck, giving me goosebumps. I shoved him hard.

He grinned wolfishly. “I told you we were friends.”

I walked the room slowly, taking it all in, the sleek lines, the quality finish. At a glance, I could see which armchair belonged to which heir. A chaise longue made from glass that was surely more comfortable than it looked had to be Gabrelle’s.

The long silver sofa was clearly Leif’s, and I would bet my life that the formal-looking black leather armchair was Ronan’s.

Which left the beanbag that smelled of fresh mint for Dion.

I stood awkwardly, not wanting to claim another’s seat. “You never said we were friends,” I corrected the wolf. “You told me to fuck off and die. There’s a slight difference.”

He sidled closer and tried to nuzzle my neck. “But I knew we’d end up buddies.”

I pushed him away, but a string in my heart pulled tight. I’d never had a buddy, never wanted one. But maybe friends weren’t so bad after all. It had to be an improvement on mortal enemies.

Ronan wandered off somewhere, probably trying to give me and the wolf time to bond. But as soon as the princeling left the room, my mood plummeted.

It was hard to remember why I’d agreed to come here. I’d vowed revenge on these pricks, and now it felt like I was begging for their attention by turning up on their doorstep and smiling.

“Where’s Sebarah’s chair?”

Leif didn’t answer, he just sprawled on his long white couch and motioned around the room. “You can sit anywhere.” He patted the sofa beside him. “Come snuggle here with me.”

Unlikely. I chose the beanbag and found it just as supportive as the bushes in the forest classroom.

My mood sank lower thinking about Sebarah. Yesterday had been a mind fuck but in a good way. I’d discovered I was fae and felt my fae senses emerging. Ronan had spent the whole day grinning at me like a fool, and I’d ended the day feeling giddy with joy, then confused, then just plain exhausted.

The happy mood had lasted all evening, but it couldn’t last forever.

The reality was sinking in. Not just about my Ascension but about my exile in the mortal realm.

I’d had parents. A brother. A complete, smiling, wholesome family, and they rejected me. Booted me out of their lives, out of their home, out of their entire realm.

What was so wrong with me? Why keep Sebarah and toss aside his younger sister?

Had they sensed an unworthiness inside me? Had they looked in my eyes and seen my humanity, my snarling trashbag self?

Sinking lower into the beanbag, I hugged my knees to my chest. This was worse than being an orphan—at least I’d known why I was alone. Having parents who despised me was worse than having dead ones, and I couldn’t ever ask them why.

Leif whined. “Can I come and hug you?”

I rested my chin on my knees. “No.” The last thing I needed was a mutt who knew nothing about me, the true me, the trashbag from the streets, and only wanted to befriend the fae princess.

That fae princess didn’t belong here. I’d been right all along—I was a fake.

He whined again. “Why are you so sad?”

I squeezed my calves. I hated being sad. Anger was way better. “Because my parents didn’t want me. They dumped me in the mortal realm to get rid of me. What kind of parents do that?”

I was hurting my leg, so I fisted the beanbag instead and accidentally tore a hole through it.

Leif relaxed. “Oh, that. That’s just because of Gaia’s curse.”

The beanbag repaired itself, knitting back together and erasing the evidence of trauma. “What’s Gaia’s curse?”

“We call it the Spare Curse. Fae couples usually only have one child. Or at least no more than one every few hundred years. That’s how it should be.”

“Okay…”

“If a royal family has two children, the younger one always dies mysteriously. They say it’s to keep the realm stable because two heirs can fight for power and start a war. But I say it’s because Gaia is a jealous bitch without any brothers or sisters, so she doesn’t want anyone else to have them either.” He pulled a tennis ball from his pocket and started tossing it and catching it. “So parents have to hide the second child before it dies. Usually, they ship them off to the mortal realm.”

I watched as he tossed the ball so accurately that it just kissed the high ceiling before plummeting to his waiting hands. He’d obviously spent way too much time on that. “So my parents didn’t hate me?”

Leif snatched the ball out of the air. “I didn’t know them well, but I guess they wouldn’t have bothered protecting you if they hated you.”

Ronan returned to the room, wearing black pants and a marle-gray T-shirt that showed off his muscles. My spirits lifted at the sight of him—or maybe at learning that my family had loved me after all.

Well, my parents had. Sebarah had formed a blood pact to ensure I never showed up.

Dion and Gabrelle trailed in behind Ronan with large bows slung over their shoulders, wearing leather outfits that wouldn’t be out of place in a hunting party.

Leif bounded over to greet them. “Have you guys been shooting pointy sticks at things again?”

Gabrelle slapped him on the nose like a naughty dog. “We’ve been honing our already excellent skills with a bow and arrow, yes.”

Her gaze snagged on me, and she started slightly, an expression I would never have caught a few days ago.

Dion was less subtle. He glared at me. “Get out of my chair. Why are you always trying to sit in someone else’s place?” A not too subtle bard about me wanting my brother’s throne.

My brother. I had a brother. My throne—I could potentially have one of those too. But I had to get through these assholes first.

“Smells like shit anyway.” I climbed out of the mint beanbag as gracefully as I could and crossed over to Ronan.

He put an arm around my shoulders, which was warm and comforting. But tension ran the length of his bicep and held him rigid. “Don’t talk to her like that, D. I already told you the deal’s off. We’re not getting rid of House Flora.”

Dion ignored his beanbag completely and stormed closer, then shoved Ronan in the chest.

The raven-haired prince stepped forward and pushed his friend, making Dion stumble several paces with his superior strength. “I rank higher than you, D,” he growled. “And I always will. So my word goes.”

Dion didn’t back down but came chest-to-chest with the larger fae. “The rankings aren’t final yet, mood boy. Your word doesn’t mean shit.”

I backed away. Two huge fae, overflowing with muscles, getting all up in each other’s faces. This was the part of a conflict where I usually found somewhere to hide, but that wasn’t the look I was going for among these pricks, so I settled for giving them more space.

Gabrelle had already slid onto her glass sofa, looking regal and elegant despite wearing training leathers. She uncrossed her legs, her voice commanding and smooth. “That’s enough, boys. Your machismo is entirely boring.” The two males eyed each other, but the tension subsided as Gabrelle continued inspecting her fingernails. “I don’t give a damn about House Flora, but I do care about you, Ronan.”

She turned the full intensity of her dusty pink stare on the dark prince, and her beauty was terrible to behold. “You used blood magic, Ro, which cannot be taken lightly. What were the exact terms of the pact?”

Ronan slung his arms around me again, this time more relaxed. I shuffled his arm off my shoulders and stepped away from him.

He gave me an odd look but continued. “Sebarah and I were standing right out there on the deck when we decided to do it. We summoned Gaia as our witness and invoked blood magic. That was it.”

“What words did you use?” Gabrelle asked.

Ronan folded his arms across his chest. “I, Ronan, the heir to House Mentium, will die before I allow Neela Flora to sit on the Floran throne.” He glanced at me. “Sorry.”

Holy hell. That didn’t leave any wiggle room. I hadn’t realized how binding—and fatal—his oath was. I sidled further away from him. “You have to get out of it.”

Gabrelle’s voice was smooth, but I detected the slightest tremor I would never have noticed a week ago. “It’s blood magic, Neela. It cannot be reversed. He has vowed his life. If you sit on that throne, he dies.”

Now it made sense. I understood why these guys wanted me gone so desperately. They were trying to save their friend’s life.

I’d spent the last twenty-four hours imagining myself as a proper fae who truly belonged, sitting on the throne, hanging out with Liz in the Rose Palace, and maybe getting a Healer on staff. A life filled with pleasure and friends…an easy life.

I sighed. “Easy come, easy go. I don’t need the throne. I can live out my life as a regular fae, I don’t need all the fancy houses and crap.”

Disappointment threaded through my hair and spread its bony fingers across my scalp, but I pushed it aside. A small part of me asked why I would sacrifice my future for the fae who’d broken my ankle and left me alone to fight a demon, but I ignored it. I understood his reasons, even if I wasn’t a huge fan of his methods.

If I expected an outbreak of applause and thanks, I was disappointed. Everybody looked at me in silence, and I realized that, once again, I was the only one in the room who didn’t know what the hell was going on.

“What?” I demanded.

Ronan took up my hand. “You can’t stay in Verda if you fail Gaia’s ultimate test. She does not take failure lightly.”

I didn’t need to ask what that meant. Another one of the bitch goddess’s curses, I supposed.

I shrugged. “I’ll just go to another realm. I heard Caprice is nice this time of year.”

“No. You cannot remain in Arathay.”

I stepped away from Ronan. For him to live, I had to leave the fae realm, give up my fae powers and return to Hebes? I didn’t know if I could do that. Return to the streets, go back to being a trashbag orphan preyed upon by every damn crew in the Docklands.

I stumbled backward. No, I couldn’t leave; that was a death sentence.

I straightened my spine.

The choice was clear. Ronan or me.