27. Dance Only with Me

Before tonight, the High Fae were merely curious about me. But the way they gawk after the Shadow King leaves the dance floor makes my skin crawl, all discretion forgotten.

"Is there something you haven't told me? You have a different schedule than the other seeds. Is there a reason why the king would stake his claim on you?" Lori asks.

"Claim? I?—"

While everyone is still focussed on me, I catch a glimpse of Two and Mara leaving together, his hand at her waist.

"Don't play dumb." Lori frowns like she expected better of me. "He might as well have pissed in a circle around you." Lori's fingers tighten hard around my wrist as she pulls me closer to the other hunters. "We need to get her out, or the High Fae will eat her alive. Let's go to the library."

"I'll get sustenance," Misha answers seriously.

We all sneak inside the library, and Lori motions for me to sit on the librarian desk with her while the other hunters form a circle around us.

"So, what's your story, Old World?" she asks for the whole group.

James, Misha, Fiona, Jo, Mitchell, and Cary all hang on to my next words. I realize how close they truly are, and how they've started to include me in their group, hopefully out of instinct that I belong here.

Their expectant faces ignite a tinge of guilt in my stomach. Isobel Umbra already knows I'm a princess, so I might as well tell them myself before they hear it from somebody else.

"I'm a princess. Back home. That's why I have a different schedule," I lie. "I didn't want to be treated differently, but my father insisted on it. What happened tonight with the king…it took me by surprise, I assure you." I end with the truth and offer them a sheepish wince.

The severe curl of Lori's mouth tells me she doesn't quite believe me. I catch her gaze, trying to convey my remorse, and she finally nods. "A princess, hey? That's rich."

Everyone in the circle laughs.

"Did the king invite you to his bedroom?" Jo asks, his face a little paler than usual.

"No!"

"Let's all stay here for the night, then, and leave the Fae to their silly traditions," Lori adds quickly, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something.

We spend the next two hours passing wine around and exchanging secrets, my new friends eager for some mindless fun as they teach me how to play "Never Have I Ever," a game where pretty much everyone gets to drink themselves silly but me.

When the party disbands, Jo hangs back to speak with me one-on-one. He rubs his face down, and his words slur together a bit as he says, "Jesus—I like you, Nell, but I won't antagonize the king on purpose. It's best if we keep our friendship on the DL…at least for a while."

I have no idea what "on the DL" means, but I get the general idea and refill my cup of wine, nodding like he's making sense.

"No hard feelings?" he asks.

I force a fake smile on my lips. "None." I raise my cup in cheer and gulp it down until there's nothing left.

He zig zags out of the main entrance, leaving Lori and me alone in the library.

"What traditions were you referring to, earlier?" I ask.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her lips twisted in a pout. "Foghar is not just about food and wine. The Fae usually choose a partner to have sex with before the night ends… We all thought the king might summon you to his bedroom."

The memory of Two and Mara slipping out of the ballroom together comes to mind at the news, and I refill my cup again. "Thank the Mother he didn't, or I would have given him a piece of my mind."

"What are you going to do?" Lori's gaze falls to the bottle I'm holding. "Besides getting shit-faced, apparently."

"I don't know." I've replayed the dance inside my head a hundred times, and I don't see how I could have foreseen—or better yet, prevented—the situation.

Lori paces the length of her desk back and forth with her arms tucked behind her back. "The sovereigns of Faerie are ruthless and powerful, but it's a well-known fact that any mortal who catches their eyes will suffer."

"I believe you."

She pats my shoulders, staring straight into my eyes. "Then you should leave. The next time you go back to the old world, stay there."

There's real fear in her clear gray eyes, and a guilty sob bubbles out of my mouth. "I can't."

I give in and tell her about everything. The deal my father made, the reasons for my weird schedule, and the haunting kiss I shared with One… I tell Lori about the doubts plaguing my mind and the twinge at the pit of my stomach whenever I think of home.

A few minutes after we've gulped down the last of the wine, I feel dizzy but determined. "And that's everything."

"Wow," Lori blinks a few times, still digesting all the information. "I mean—Wow." She unfolds her legs and discards her empty cup on the desk. "Are you still in love with this Isaac guy?"

"Isaac?" I look down at the dark surface of the red wine, One's terribly beautiful face coming to the forefront of my mind as I answer. "No. I'm not."

I thought I loved Isaac, but after his unspeakable behavior at the ball and the way he behaved in the Dreaming… I'm not sure I truly knew him at all.

"And your father—I'm sorry, but he sounds like a douche."

My brows furrow. "Douche?" I'm pretty sure it means "shower," and I don't get it.

Lori shakes her head like I'm the most annoying person in the world. "He's a jerk. A jackass. A schmuck. A prick. An asshole."

"Pretty much." I should be mortified to speak so plainly about my father and the king of my country, but hey, it's the truth. "He's a total douche," I shout a little too loud.

Lori giggles at my drunken attempt to embrace her slang.

"Sorry, I thought it meant ‘shower,'" I add with a sheepish grin.

A chortle pops out of her mouth, and she rolls over with laughter, giggling until she can't breathe. Tears streak her cheeks, and when she finally finds the strength to stop, she wipes them off slowly with her hands. "Oh. Oh. That's the funniest thing I've heard like—ever."

I chuckle along with her. "That's me. The funniest girl from the old world."

"Thank you for telling me, Nell. I won't betray your trust, I promise." She smiles from ear to ear, hesitating like she can't quite move without bursting into another fit of laughter. "But I do want to hear more about the songs you saw in One's eyes."

"That's it, I'm going to bed," I say quickly.

"Don't go! I was kidding." She reaches out for me and links our arms to keep me from fleeing, and my lips twitch at the spontaneous outburst.

"I know, I'm just exhausted."

"Wait. We have to be smart about this." She jumps to her feet, her usual grace blurred by the overindulgent intake of alcohol as she bends over her desk and reaches for something hidden underneath. "Here. Wear this." She presses her favorite hoodie—the one with a red bull silhouette on its front—to my chest. "This way, no one will look twice at you on your way back to your room."

"It's almost dawn."

"Still, we should take precautions."

Her instructions don't quite fit with my secret plan to find One and demand answers, but she's got a point. She helps me unzip the side of my dress and bunches it under the desk.

Now wearing only underwear, I throw Lori's large hoodie over my head, the hem coming down to my mid-thighs, and tuck my braid carefully out of sight. "How do I look?"

"Like me, honestly. If someone sees you from afar, they'll assume you're me and not think twice. You're not exactly known for lurking about the tunnels in your underwear. I'll stay here for ten minutes and follow. I need to sober up."

"Alright, goodnight." I peck Lori's cheek like I would Cece and leave her in the library, heading silently to a section of the underground tunnels I never visited.

Mara let it slip the other day that the triplets slept under the gym, in the northern section of the tunnels, so I tiptoe down the unfamiliar corridor, hoping I've got the right one.

The doors all look the same, and I become confused after a few intersections, unsure if I'm still heading in the right direction.

Just as I'm about to give up, a scream pierces the night. Alarmed, I hurry down the closest hallway, the rough carpet scratching my bare feet. I follow the sound around a tight corner and emerge in front of another series of identical doors. Forest-green paint chips off the wood panels in large clusters, a few areas sanded down to the grain.

"Please, please, please," a woman begs, and I slow down, inching closer to the sliver of light in the distance, wrapping myself in the deepest shadow I can summon given my intoxicated state.

The door of the bedroom is ajar, and I peek through the light and see a woman lying down on her back. Mara.

A high-pitched sound whizzes out of her, and I steal another glance, catching a glimpse of her arched back and hard nipples. Heart pounding, I stop playing chicken and hide deep inside the shadows of the doorway, the destructive urge to spy on her trampling all reason. I'm both fascinated and disgusted by what she's doing, and all the scandalous drawings in Demeter couldn't have prepared me for the reality of…fucking.

One of the triplets is standing between Mara's legs, his bare bottom perfectly visible in the night, the fireplace burning bright next to the bed. The angle prevents me from seeing too much of their private parts, but each crackle of fire highlights the man's corded muscles as he pounds in and out of my fellow seed, the woman who sat beside me at breakfast and dinner so many times.

I catch a glimpse of an iridescent mask as Three flips Mara to her stomach, and she crouches on all four, her breasts dangling. Both relief and surprise hit me at once.

Three?

"Fuck, yes." She raises her rump in the air. "Harder."

My breath stutters as she reaches her arm toward the corner of the room, and Two appears with a golden cup in his hands, half-naked and grinning at the scene in front of him. "See? I knew you'd like fantasies, too." He sips on his wine, watching his brother pleasure himself with Mara. "How is she?"

Three shrugs as he starts to move his hips again, his expression a bit too relaxed for what he's doing.

"Oh…yes." Her voice is brittle, as though she might break if Three stops, not minding their little chat one bit.

What the crops? Why is he here? Just watching?

She certainly does not look like the women in the drawings, happy for her body to be used instead of terrified, clearly taking pleasure from it.

Two reaches out to twist her breasts, and after a moment she cries out, shaking, and falls to her stomach on the bed. The movement causes Three to slide out of her, and he steals the cup from his brother's hand.

I stifle a gasp with my hand at the sight of his erect cock, feeling like I might melt into the floor, and grip the end of the hoodie.

Three gulps down the rest of the wine and wraps a lazy hand in Mara's red mane.

"Open your beautiful mouth, Mara," Two murmurs in a low baritone that sends tremors down my spine.

Three is huge, but the wanton seed obeys his command, and he slides his manhood all the way inside her mouth. I grab my throat, imagining how painful it must feel, but Mara moans in approval, and my brows bend in question.

My heart fanfares—boom, boom, boom—and the heavy thuds drown out her moans. Suddenly, a hand closes around my wrist, hard enough to bruise me.

"You shouldn't be here," One hisses under his breath. He quietly closes the bedroom door shut, his mouth pursed in anger.

He's not wearing his usual tunic, but a simple cotton shirt with short sleeves.

"I'm sorry," I whisper quickly. "I got lost."

"You should be in bed, where you belong. The sun is about to rise. It's dangerous to be out here—" He hauls me along the dark corridor, his hand stiff around my upper arm.

"Don't tear my arm off for nothing. It's only your brothers and Mara?—"

He lets me go and rakes his hand through his dark hair like he wants to tear it out of his skull. "You shouldn't have seen that."

The motion leaves his waves all disheveled, like the night of the hunt, and I dry off my sweaty palms on the front of Lori's hoodie. "Why? Would it get your brothers in trouble to bed the king's seeds?"

I wonder what he's doing here, dressed like this—Wait…

"Were you about to join them?" I ask out loud without really meaning to, my heart racing, my inhibitions lowered by the wine.

He squints, clearly taken aback by my question. "What?"

"When you caught me. Were you about to join them?" I repeat quickly, my words slurring together.

If the Fae usually take a lover on Foghar… it makes sense.

The corners of his mouth curl down, telling me I've struck a chord. Before I can move, he grabs my jaw with his right hand, the move unexpected and bold. My stomach flip-flops, and the muscles in his arms tighten as he takes a good sniff. "You're drunk."

An itch between my shoulder blades prickles my skin, and tears threaten to leak into my eyes. "Why would you want to bed Mara of all people? You said you couldn't get involved with me."

He laughs—the sound dry and unkind. "She's nothing like you."

"Oh? Go ahead then!" I yell way too loud not to be heard inside the room, not caring if my bluff is blatantly apparent, my heart in smithereens.

One clasps my wrist and pulls me deeper into the tunnels and away from his fucking brothers. "Let's get you to bed, you're wasted—and acting like a child."

He manhandles me along the slanted corridors, and each turning corner calms the storm inside me. I glance at my escort sideways. If he was about to join them, he's not going to, now. I'm not sure how I can be so certain of it, but I am, and the weight pressing on my chest eases.

Shadows engulf us in darkness, the illusion powerful enough to fool the sprites, and the few servants we cross paths with are oblivious to our presence. When I brace myself on the wall for balance, the wine thick in my blood, One picks me up in his arms.

I hide my face in his chest and wipe a treacherous tear with the sleeve of Lori's hoodie. The scent of pears and smoke tickles the roof of my mouth, the hint of musk underneath making me quiver. No matter what logic dictates, my body craves the touch of the dark Fae. I long for it the way frenzied cows crave the safety of a burning barn, heading to disaster.

Once in my room, he lays me down on the bed, but I wrestle against his hold to sit up. "I'm not tired." I grip a fist of his black t-shirt, and my other hand sneaks under the hem of fabric to touch his stomach.

Quick as lightning, he takes hold of my wrists and shackles them above my head. The back of my skull hits the pillow, and the hoodie rises up over the waistband of my underwear.

One's nostrils flare, and he presses me down to the mattress with his weight. "Bad, bad kitty."

I shudder from head to toe, wishing he'd kiss me already, his riding stance on my thighs absolutely scandalous. It'd be so easy for him to slide his long hands under the hem of the big sweatshirt and feel my waist, my stomach, my breasts… so easy…

"Kiss me," I breathe, half-mad.

"Hmph. Sleep the wine off, kitten, or by the spindle, I will enchant you to sleep." He presses my wrists harder into the duvet to emphasize his point, and I offer him a pout that would put any spoiled four-year-old to shame.

"You wear your threats like armor, but you don't mean them. Not when it comes to me."

He lowers his voice, his nails digging into the supple flesh of my arms. "Don't be so sure. A couple of my previous threats sound fucking good to me right now." Inhaling deep, he places a sweet kiss at the angle of my jaw, and my chest heaves in longing.

"Goodnight," he whispers before jumping from the bed. He dumps the bulk of the covers over my naked legs and spins around to leave.

"Wait!" I call after him. "Why did you miss the ball? You should have been there." My intoxicated gut tells me the king wouldn't have acted so brazenly in his presence.

One pauses and grips the doorknob. It's a long pause that tells me he's about to skirt around the truth. "You already know why you didn't see me there."

The door closes behind him with a loud thud, and I groan out loud. His scent fills my lungs, and my skin burns, craving more. The sight of his naked brothers branded me, and the hold of the Shadow King lingers on my shoulder blade.

My gaze darts to the mirror, and I wonder if the monarch could have been watching my fight with One, just now. I hide under the covers, smoothing them over the length of my body, but sleep evades me.

I loathe Mara for the enraptured sounds she imprinted in my ears, and my hand snakes down my abdomen of its own volition. I bite my lips, infuriated by the wetness I find there, aware that I've been thoroughly corrupted by the Shadow Court.

Two's salacious remarks haunt me, along with Three's naked buttocks and One's deep, hypnotic voice. Envy cramps my guts as I touch myself for the first time since I came to Faerie, the forbidden caress seemingly innocuous compared to the temptations of this world.

I finish hard, shivering and panting in my two-person bed, feeling emptier still, and pray the shadow obscuring the glass is only a figment of my drunken imagination.