19. Face My Fears

nineteen

Face My Fears

Rainer

A lessia’s voice carries down the hallway. It’s soft yet sturdy, loud but controlled. I smile to myself as I stuff my hands into my pockets and follow it. She grows louder until I finally reach the kitchen where she is.

I enter the threshold, leaning against the archway.

Alessia stands barefoot on the counter, her back to me. Her hair is in a long braid, trailing down her back. She wears a plain tunic and leggings, with grime streaking her, and still, my heart skips a beat when she turns. Beautiful is too dull a word to encompass her essence.

Her eyes crinkle adorably at the corners as she addresses the dozens of servants from my court. They pass trays of pastries between them, stuffing their faces as they listen with rapt attention. Witnessing Alessia summon her confidence is enthralling.

Past her, I spot Das Celyn scowling in the shadows across the room. They lift a doughnut and tip their chin in greeting, and I raise a brow in return.

“—and I learned my lesson the hard way, so not a single one of you will hear a thank-you from me today—” the room chuckles and titters as Alessia continues, “—but accept these treats as offerings of gratitude. ”

She gestures across from her, and I strain to see through the crowd. On the counter opposite her, dozens of wine bottles litter the counter.

She hops down, exchanging a few words with folk as she moves through the crowd. Her eyes meet mine when she glances in my direction, and her shoulders soften. A smile blossoms on her lips, and she surges toward me.

“Nice speech,” I say, reaching forward and plucking a piece of cobweb off her shoulder.

Her pale neck tints pink, and it creeps up to her cheeks. Her mouth quirks up. “I’m not thanking you either, prince.”

My lips twitch at the sass, and I don’t bother to bring up the fact she’s already thanked me recently. “Good.” I glance past her at the makeshift revelry in the kitchen. “Interesting place for a formal announcement and a party.”

She bites her lip, glancing at her feet. “The throne room is big and cold. It didn’t feel right. The kitchen is the heart of any home—it’s warm, comforting, and full of life.”

“I like it,” I tell her honestly. “It’s rather unique. Very casual. Very you .”

A playful glint shines in her eyes. Already, she’s coming back to herself. It confirms that coming here was the right decision. As independent and capable as she is, she thrives with the right care and attention.

“Do you think they’ll appreciate the wine and doughnuts?” she asks.

A fae whoops as they run past, guzzling straight from one of the many bottles. I jerk my chin toward them. “Does that answer your question?”

She chuckles. “There’s a wine cellar—another level below the court. It’s incredible ,” she breathes the word with awe. “This whole place is just… I can’t believe it’s mine.”

I nudge her gently with my elbow. “It’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? A home?”

Heat crackles between us as she holds my stare, her eyes bouncing between mine. I’m mesmerized by her kind, grey irises. They sparkle with unspoken emotion, growing watery. She blinks rapidly as she glances away.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Freedom… a home.”

A throat clears, and my head swivels toward the noise. Ezamae stands with an uncharacteristically goofy smile on his face, gripping the lapels of his ornate, blue velvet jacket.

“Can I help you?” I ask flatly.

“Yvanthia has summoned me,” he says, looking to Alessia. His silver locks are mussed up as if someone has had their hands running through it.

I sniff the air, picking up on a familiar scent clinging to him… it’s an amber perfume that’s so unlike the normal crisp, fresh scent of the Aer Prince.

My eyes narrow at him.

He shifts awkwardly, but his smile doesn’t fall. “I must heed her call, but I’ll return tomorrow to windwalk the fae back to Umb—”

“Don’t bother.”

His eyes swing to mine, and he arches a brow. “They’re staying longer?”

“Yes.” I answer Ezamae, though my attention is focused fully on Alessia. “As long as she needs. I want this court up and running entirely before anyone even thinks of returning to Umbra. ”

She frowns. “But what about your court? Who’s going to keep an eye on things?”

I chuckle. That’s the least of my concerns. It’s not like I even run a court these days—more like I keep a castle and isolate myself from my folk. Plus, Uriel and a handful of other Terra warriors will be around Umbra while I’m gone.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Are you coming with us?” Alessia asks Ezamae. “To Dovenak?”

He purses his lips together and shakes his head. The twinkle in his eye dims. “Yvanthia relies on me too much to loosen her invisible grip on me.”

A tiny pinch of pity sits in my chest for him. But it’s immediately followed by a selfish burst of relief that even though she has me forcibly bonded to her for the time being, I am still allowed my freedom. As long as we continue to oversee our respective courts, she’s promised to leave us be.

Ezamae is another story, though. Apparently, trying to trick and overthrow the queen will do that. If he hadn’t had such useful talents of enchantment, I wonder if she might’ve tried him for treason. Instead, she benefits from his power .

The cunt.

“Once we return, we will discuss…” I pause, stroking my jaw. I don’t want to speak the wrong thing aloud, knowing he’s glamoured into relaying certain information to Yvanthia. “ Things .”

He nods sharply. “She knows you’re going to Dovenak.”

My jaw tightens. “I figured.”

“And she’s okay with it?” Alessia asks, eyes widening.

Ezamae laughs, but it’s humorless. “ If you succeed in eliminating the human queen, it does little to affect Yvanthia. Her biggest concern is her only Lírshadow dying and destabilizing the land again.” He tilts his head toward me. “But she knows the grumpy vamp won’t let anything happen to you.”

I glower darkly at him, and he smiles as if I’m proving his point.

So Queen Wyetta of Dovenak isn’t the only one who underestimates us—Queen Yvanthia of Avylon’s fae does, too.

Amusement tickles my spine. Let them underestimate us. See how that works out for them.

Ezamae perks up, focusing on something in the hallway behind me; his pale cheeks tinge with color. I glance over my shoulder, but whoever he spotted is already gone. A hint of amber perfume floats into my nostrils, and this time, it hits me.

“ Fern ?” I ask, aghast, whirling back to him.

His smirk grows as he scratches the back of his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Alessia groans. A whisper of air tickles my skin as Ezamae disappears with a poof .

“Fern?” I whisper-yell, gauging Alessia’s reaction.

She grimaces, shrugging a shoulder. “I know. It’s weird.”

“Ezamae is messier than Tynan.” I grit my teeth. “Absolutely no shame.”

“What’d Tynan do now?”

“You don’t want to know,” I mutter. “If Ezamae can’t join us, we’re left to journey on foot.”

“Can we ride Ken?” she asks, straightening up at the prospect of riding the bear.

“All three of us? There’s no way.” Kenisius is rather robust in his animi form but not that strong.

“Three? ”

“Me, you, and… Tynan,” I grit out. “His glamour will be useful.”

She nods, tapping her chin. “What about Seraphina?”

My eyes narrow. “What about her?”

She grips my wrist with her delicate fingers, tugging me out of the kitchen. We walk a little way down the hallway until we reach a closed door. Alessia opens it, and the candles in the chandelier flare to life on their own, illuminating a study carved of stone like the rest of the court.

She yanks me inside and closes the door behind her. It shuts with a thwack that echoes off the high, arched ceilings.

“I figured it’s better to talk in private.” She bites her lips, blushing.

The wooden desk in the middle of the room sparkles, its wood recently polished. The matching shelves around the room, boasting various artifacts, appear well cared for. My crew put in work today. I’m glad Alessia recognized that and treated them to a party to celebrate their efforts.

Who am I kidding?

Alessia would be the first one to do so.

I snicker to myself, shaking my head.

“What’s so funny?” Alessia asks, perching on the edge of a carver chair behind the desk. She runs her hand over the smooth wood, eyeing the many drawers.

“Just thinking of how lucky your folk are to have you as a ruler.”

Her face pinches as she tugs open a drawer. “I don’t have courtfolk.” She ruffles some papers, tugging out what looks like an old journal with a leather cover and sloppy binding. “They were all exiled, too, apparently. I guess it’s good I don’t have a full city to oversee like you and Eoin—er, Sennah do.”

She glances at me, eyes filled with sorrow and her lips tight. Then she drops her gaze to the journal on the table, carefully opening it.

Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I stride to her, leaning my hip against the desk. “You realize your underground abode is nearly triple the size of my castle, right?”

She mutters something under her breath. I raise a brow, waiting for her to reply.

“Yeah,” she says absentmindedly, flipping the page.

“I believe the folk of Spiritus Court resided down here—directly within the court—alongside your family.”

She pauses her perusing, scrunching her nose and giving me her attention. “Why underground?”

I sigh, stroking my jaw. “I assume it has something to do with stronger magic. Aer Court is atop a mountain, high in the air. Ignus Court is near a volcano, flourishing near the lava and fire. Though the magic comes from nature, each court sources it differently.”

“And Umbra?” Her brows draw together.

I chuckle. “My court is gloomy, thriving in nature’s shadows—where nightmares and fears thrive.”

Her brows flick up. “Interesting. And Terra has all the hills, water, and flowers… But Spiritus?”

“Spiritus magic is… different than the other courts.”

“Darker, you mean?” There’s a challenge in her tone and a sparkle in her eye.

“By some accounts. It does come from spirits—which requires death.”

She bites her bottom lip, gazing up at me with rapt attention .

“They say the Otherworld—the Spirit World—is deep inside the Spiritus land,” I explain. “That’s why the spirits tether to the trees here. The trees’ roots run deeper than normal, reaching to the Otherworld. The trees absorb the spirits and recycle their magic—”

“Depositing their souls in the Otherworld. I know, I read all about it in a journal…” Something seems to dawn on her because she gasps quietly and sits up straighter. “Maybe that’s why my shadow-self is louder down here.”

“Does it still want to do wicked things to me?” I tease, my voice low.

“Perhaps,” she says, smiling softly. “Or perhaps I’m the one who wants to do those wicked things.”

The sass she hits me with sinks into my stomach, turning it over excitedly. I work to keep my expression neutral, not wanting to influence her any further than I already have. She chuckles softly, returning to the book without noticing how much she affects me.

But by the gods, the newfound confidence she wears unravels me. The tenacity with which she employs it is admirable. The only thing that makes her sweetness better is how she perfectly balances it with her darkness—not letting the latter consume her.

I know firsthand how easy it is to lose oneself to the roiling power within. She’s battling herself—no denying it—but she’s not letting it dismantle her tightly-wielded decency.

I clear the thickness from my throat, trying to focus on anything other than the way her words have me half hard already.

A harsh exhale snaps me from my thoughts .

I arch a brow, amused by her avoidance of me and the conversations we need to have. “Alessia, would you like me to leave you to your… reading?”

“Ah.” She glances at me, lips slightly parted as if searching for words. A faint flush colors her cheeks as she downcasts her eyes. “No, sor—I haven’t looked through everything in here yet, and I was looking for anything that might give me answers.”

She holds an old book up, showing me the weathered covered with grease stains marring the leather.

“Anything interesting?”

A flash of excitement lights up her eyes. “Very, actually.” She sets it down on the desk, and then she positions her small frame toward me. “But it isn’t what I’m looking for. I can read it later.”

“What if you stop seeking answers and just embrace yourself?” I ask softly.

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, leaning back in the chair. “I know you love it when I’m violent, Rainer, but I am afraid of my shadow-self. It’s not who I want to be.”

The grin stretches across my face as a low chuckle leaves me. “It’s not violence I’m drawn to, my little rose. I’m turned on by you being yourself—without apology or doubt.”

“Oh.” She shifts, her hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

I slide between her chair and the desk, perching atop it. I reach for her, clasping her hand tightly as I pull her to her feet. Widening my legs, I pull her towards me, locking her between my thighs. Our bodies are so close that only a breath separates us. I ache to be engulfed by her essence from now until forever, losing myself to the soft touch of her hands on my waist .

“It’s not the violence,” I repeat, wanting the words to sink into her bones. I place a hand on her chest, finding comfort in the warmth. It rises and falls rapidly beneath my touch. “It’s the fight inside of you. I admire how you possess a heart full of kindness and compassion despite the many ways the world has tried to shatter it. At the same time, you are unflinchingly capable of ferocity when it’s warranted.”

She stiffens and seems to hold her breath, waiting for what I’ll say next.

I smirk, reaching up to twirl a lock of her hair between my fingers. “Your ability to switch between tenderness and brutality commands my deepest respect. Your skill in choosing the right moments to be gentle or when to stand your ground is something I find truly remarkable.”

Her lips tighten as she glances down at the meager space between us. “No. I have terrible control over my darkness, and I’ve made plenty of mistakes.”

Placing a finger under her chin, I gently tilt her head up, until she focuses on my face again.

“The only ones you’ve caused harm to are the ones who’ve inflicted it upon you first. You’ve exercised impeccable self-control.” I think of how reckless I was when I first came into my bloodlust. I know our powers differ, but Alessia is new to Avylon, to freedom, and to her power, yet still, she rises. “You never cease to amaze me, mo róisín.”

“What if I hurt someone?” she whispers. “What if I hurt you?”

I study her. The waver in her voice, the way her shoulders begin to curl inward, and that wet glimmer in her eyes tell me everything I need to know. She feels deeply for me, even if she doesn’t voice it. But she’s scared to keep me close. Afraid of hurting me. Afraid of losing herself.

I draw her closer to me, until our chests brush.

I expect her to push me away or shrink down, but instead, she surprises me and tilts her mouth toward mine. She hovers there. Her warm, chocolatey breath grazes my lips as her eyes flit between my mouth and eyes.

“Don’t start something you won’t finish, Rainer,” she warns.

My smile grows, crinkling my eyes at the corners. Gone is the meek, timid girl I once interpreted her as. Granted, that perception was short-lived. I witnessed her unwavering inner strength long before anyone else did, even herself.

I reach up, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “I will gladly ensure you finish, my sweet rose.” My voice is husky, and her breath hitches in response.

The door whines open. My head snaps toward the sound, and Alessia jumps backward as if I’ve burnt her.

Kenisius enters the room with a grin.

“There you two ar—” He pauses, tilting his head to the side and sniffing the air. His grin morphs into a look of mischief as he wiggles his brow and slowly backs away. “I’ll come back.”

“Wait,” Alessia squeaks out. “We were just discussing our next steps. For Dovenak.”

He rocks on his heels, his brows flicking up. An awkward silence stretches in the room.

“Come in,” I growl, hopping off the desk.

He scratches the back of his neck before shrugging and kicking the door shut. It slams, and Alessia flinches at the sound.

“Oops,” he says, chuckling .

I discreetly adjust my pants before turning around to face the room. Alessia sits back in the chair and Kenisius throws himself into an armchair by the bookshelves.

I sigh, gritting my teeth. I’m annoyed at the intrusion, but part of me is grateful. There’s only so much self-control I have when it comes to Alessia. It isn’t wise to lose myself to my feelings for her, but there’s little keeping me from ravaging her.

If she says the words, I’m hers. In any way she wants me. On my knees, on all fours, tied up, tied down—

The images flit through my mind, and I scrub a hand over my face.

“So, about Seraphina,” Alessia says, pulling us back to the conversation we came in here to have in the first place and effectively watering down my lust. “I think we need to keep her close. Her skills could be of use.”

“No,” I say harshly. “I want her nowhere near you.”

She groans. “I don’t want to leave her here, though.”

“Excuse me.” Kenisius waves a hand, fighting a smile. “She’s cute. I don’t mind keeping an eye. No fur off my back.”

“No. Ezamae will keep an eye on things. Including her.” I can’t believe I’m saying the words, but the Aer Prince isn’t as awful as I thought. “He is an adept ruler. He can handle things.”

She chews her lip, mulling it over. “I trust Ez.” Her face softens. “Call it a feeling, but I know he has good intentions. But Seraphina is coming with us.”

I clench my jaw, not wanting to argue with Alessia. What she wants goes, and her reasoning isn’t horrible. I’ll have to work harder to keep my emotions in check, considering I despise the selfish sorceress.

Kenisius slaps his thigh. “Does this mean you’re finally ready to storm the human realm, little demon?” He doesn’t bother to hide the excitement in his voice.

She nods. “Yeah.” Her eyes lock onto mine, and she gives me a soft, private smile that’s just for me. “I’m ready to face my fears.”