Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

GA'REK

I doubt anyone else can tell how anxiety-riddled Caelan is right now. Kieran, perhaps, though the prince isn't known for being either empathetic or caring.

So I kiss my sweet witch goodbye with the promise of another night together hanging between us.

"Rowdy Wolf?" Kieran asks, glancing at the neighboring pub's already busy exterior.

"The inn," Caelan says in a clipped tone.

Kieran casts one forlorn look at the pub, but to his credit, he doesn't argue at all with Caelan's order.

We're quiet as we walk down the cobbled streets to the outskirts of Wild Oak Woods. The many citizens we pass greet us by name or with a smile, and it warms my heart to see evidence that the three of us, despite our status as newcomers, have been welcomed into this small hamlet.

"This is a good place," I rumble as Caelan's new inn comes into view at the very end of the street. "I won't allow the Dark Queen to ruin Wild Oak Woods."

The inn, which seemed to be nearly crumbling only a few weeks ago, now soars up from the ground, delicate archways supported by fluted columns, a rainbow's array of stained glass coloring the windows, and a wraparound porch that's nothing like what was there.

Hash, the old innkeeper, besides turning out to be a Seelie, had a few tricks up his sleeve where his inn was concerned.

I frown.

"It is a good place." Kieran's voice rings out in agreement, unexpectedly. He's agitated, his wings rustling as we walk up the wildflower-lined path to the porch steps. "I won't let her ruin it."

Caelan shifts his gaze, and we share a surprised look.

It's not like Kieran to take a stand. On anything. Or anyone.

We reach the front door, and Caelan opens it. Out bounds Boner, the small dog Caelan inherited with the inn from old Hash. Unfortunate name aside, he's a good dog, though I can't say I like being licked by him.

"The timing is odd," Caelan says slowly, picking up the pup and scratching him behind the ears. "All of this," he says, jerking his head to indicate the inn.

It's no longer old and falling apart, the illusion so deftly woven over the place that my two fae companions hadn't even noticed. All that remains since Hash left is an old, beautiful building at the edge of the Ever Forest, well-preserved, luxurious—and nothing like the place we sought refuge in when we first arrived here.

I'm not magical, not like my two friends, and certainly not like Piper. Still, I lived in the Underhill long enough to recognize the tang of it on the air when I encounter it.

"Why is it here?" I ask.

Caelan sits down at the long wooden trestle table that dominates the large, cathedral-like room, steepling his long fingers before covering his face with them.

"It's the Ever Forest," Kieran says casually, leaning against the large desk designed to greet guests. His wings buzz ever so slightly. "I don't know why Caelan hasn't said that outright, but that's the reason."

Caelan's mouth pinches into a thin, irritated line. "We don't know that."

"This is a waypoint." Kieran continues like Caelan hasn't spoken.

"Waypoints are fiction. Myths." Caelan pinches the bridge of his nose. "This is just… a house."

"You are being reductive," Kieran counters. "You did not study at the Underhill Academy."

"Here we go again," I mutter, swallowing a laugh. I reach for my dagger, fully prepared to sharpen it and give my hands something to do while Kieran and Caelan argue, then I remember I no longer carry it at my hip. I don't need to.

"Kieran—" Caelan begins.

"No, I am right about this." Kieran gives Caelan a vicious, angry look I've never seen on the careful prince's face.

I have, however, seen that same look on his mother's face, right before she ripped a courtier's heart out with her bare hands.

My eyebrows rise, and I cross my arms over my chest.

Kieran's wings rise up, vibrating angrily behind him, and my heart begins to beat faster. Dread ices my veins.

I didn't think the prince had this in him, and I don't like the way he wears his mother's violence like a mantle.

One side of Caelan's mouth kicks up in a twisted grin, and when he glances around Kieran's wings at me, he smirks.

"Are you right about this?" he asks.

I rub my temples, because I know that look on Caelan's face.

He is goading the prince.

"I am right about this," Kieran hisses. He stabs a finger on the wide oak table for emphasis.

"Why do you care so much? These aren't your people. This isn't your town. You never gave one shit about what happened to anyone in the Underhill besides your own selfish hide."

The rage radiating from Kieran becomes palpable, chartreuse magic shimmering around him.

I don't know exactly what Caelan is attempting to do, but I know him well enough to recognize a trap when I see it. I take a step closer to the two powerful Unseelie, ready to step between them if the occasion calls for it.

"What, my young friend, are you willing to stake on being right about it?"

There it is.

That's a hook from a trickster fae if I've ever heard one.

"I would stake my life on being right. This town needs protecting, and this inn is a waypoint."

"You would protect it?" Caelan asks quickly, almost eagerly. "At all costs, even against your mother?"

Ah, fuck.

"Of fucking course I would, and you should too. Isn't the little silversmith witch your mate?—"

Kieran's voice breaks off, and he raises his hand from the wooden table.

A drop of crimson blood shimmers on one lilac finger, and his wings lower, his shoulders sagging.

"Ah-ah, you don't get to be mad," Caelan tells him in a satisfied voice. "A little blood oath never hurt anyone."

" Fuck you, Caelan."

"So sorry to tell you that position's been filled, little prince." Caelan's eyes shimmer, fresh anger dancing in his eyes. "By the little silversmith witch, as you, yourself, just said. My mate. So forgive me for ensuring her safety through whatever means necessary."

Kieran doesn't reply, just glares at him for a long, tension-filled moment. "You didn't need to trick me into swearing a blood oath. You are my friend . I don't want you to hurt because something happens to your mate. I care about this place, too."

Caelan's smirk disappears, a frown in its place.

"I might be an Unseelie prince, Caelan, but I am not my mother. I am who I choose to be."

With that, Kieran storms off, his chartreuse magic sparking behind his wings as he goes.

A door slams so loud a moment later that it rattles the art on the walls.

"Well, that could have gone better," Caelan finally manages.

He even looks slightly embarrassed.

"Don't move," I tell him in a low, dangerous voice.

He freezes. "What?"

"I want to remember this moment forever." I put my hands up, bracketing his face like a frame. "The moment you finally felt bad about tricking someone into a deal."

He has the grace to let out a small laugh, then slumps, his face in his hands.

I cross the distance to sit across from him at the table.

A moment passes, viscous, as I wait for him to speak on whatever it is he's troubled by. This isn't like him. Not at all.

I can't remember one time when the wise-cracking fae wasn't able to deflect all sorts of horribleness with an ill-timed joke.

"What are you thinking?" I finally ask, cracking under the heavy silence.

"He's right," Caelan says slowly, and there's despair in his eyes when he finally drags his face away from his hands. "He's right. The inn is a waypoint. There is strong, thick, wild magic here. That's why, I think, none of us realized what Hash was up to when he disguised it. This place… it's full of secrets, and I am sure they are not all for me to find out. The witches, the coven, the Seelie queen's appearance—there is something headed towards Wild Oak Woods, and I do not know what it is."

His face is stricken, and I swallow hard at the unsettling sight of an emotion on Caelan that isn't pure chaotic glee.

"You think someone is guiding events? Our expulsion from the Underhill…" I pause, shaking my head in disbelief. "I'm just an orc. One stolen by a trickster fae, not even a proper orc."

Now his expression turns manic again, the Caelan I know and love. "Oh, not a proper orc? I suppose your Piper had some complaints then, did she? About your proper orc performance."

I stare at him with a hard face until he chuckles and glances away. "We all will have a role to play in whatever it is that's coming. But it's building, whatever it is."

"That's what they tell me too." A new voice pipes up, and when we both startle, glancing towards the west hallway, the newcomer witch is there.

Violet.

The dark circles under her eyes are still there, but there's a new-found strength shining in her eyes, too.

"Who told you what?" Caelan asks, confused.

"The dead," she says simply, shrugging one shoulder.

Caelan swivels back to me, his eyes wide. "Because that is an entirely normal thing to say."

I try not to laugh, for the sake of the willowy witch who I know must be scared out of her mind, yet was brave enough to traipse into the front room with an orc and an Unseelie and then eavesdrop on their private conversation.

"It is decidedly not normal," Violet says with a huge sigh. "And frankly, I am not sure how I feel about any of this. But the dead told me to come here, and now I am, and they whisper amongst themselves."

The hairs on the tops of my arms rise.

"They say too, something is coming. Something from the old woods." Violet shrugs again. "I'm going to bed. I came to tell you both thank you for your kindness."

I incline my head automatically, the odd niceties of the violent fae court ingrained in me at this point.

"Well," I draw the word out long, stretching my legs out in front of me. "I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse," I say lightly.

It makes me feel much worse, and I decide I can't even be mad at Caelan for striking an unwilling blood oath with Kieran.

"The old woods," Caelan repeats, his brow furrowed. "The Elder Forest."

It clicks the moment he says it, and I very nearly smack myself in the face for not realizing it beforehand. "The Elder Forest."

Of course.

"Do you think the bookstore witch has anything on the Elder Forest?" Caelan asks me. "That rude one? With the cat?"

"I knew who you meant by bookstore witch, Caelan," I reprimand him. "You didn't need to add the rest. Her name is Ruby."

"Of course it is. Why would I call her Ruby when bookstore witch works just as well?"

Boner, curled up by the fire, lets out a noisy fart in his sleep, and we both wince.

"I'm not sure if I should reward him for that or check underneath him," Caelan confides.

"Can you please focus?" I'm used to Caelan's frequent digressions, but this is not the time. "What the hell can we expect from the Elder Forest? What is powerful enough to set all of these pieces in motion?"

His amusement at Boner's interruption fades, and he shakes his head. "I don't know. But I don't have a good feeling about it, not one bit."

I growl. "I don't like preparing for an enemy that I know nothing about."

"We have a powerful group of women on our side. We have an Unseelie prince, one who needs a few centuries of training still, but who's bleeding raw magic every time he gets upset. We have you, one of the strongest warrior orcs I've ever seen, though you're growing soft from filling pastries?—"

"Caelan." His name's a warning.

He laughs. "We have me, whom you can always expect to have a few tricks up his sleeves. Then there's the Seelie queen, who has decided to get involved all on her own. I have a feeling destiny has brought us here, to Wild Oak Woods, to have some fun."

That manic glimmer returns to his eyes, and he smiles, the firelight dancing off his sharp Unseelie fangs. "Whatever is building, whatever storm is coming, it will have to get through us first."

I nod in agreement, because he's right. There is no way I won't fight for Piper, or for the future we could have together.

The witches on their own will be formidable, but together, with us by their side?

There will be a reckoning.

"Now, on to even more serious matters," Caelan says conspiratorially. "What terrible theme should we choose for this event? I was thinking we could have cats as the theme."

"Cats?" I echo, completely thrown by his sudden change in topic. "Why cats?"

"Why not?"

"I can think of a lot of reasons why not, Caelan. That suggestion makes no sense at all."

"Carrots," he says.

I stare at him. "A carrot-themed party. A carrot-themed party with dancing. Dancing carrots."

"Yes, you see the vision." He gestures expansively. "Orange décor. Carrots galore. Green headpieces."

"I do not see the vision," I tell him flatly.

"You are absolutely no fun." He sighs, then brightens. "Knife-themed. Everyone can dress as though they are being gutted."

"You are forbidden from deciding the theme," I tell him. "You are done."

"Death and dismemberment," he continues, ignoring me completely. "There are simply so many ways to have that happen. People's imaginations will go wild."

"I will tell Piper we've decided on a fall theme." I pinch the bridge of my nose.

"That is quite possibly the most boring option of all."

"It's a harvest festival."

"Oh yes, and everyone will be simply delighted by the redundancy of a fall-themed costume ball."

"If they were delighted by a death and dismemberment theme, we'd be right back in the Underhill," I mutter.

His face falls. "Ugh. I suppose you are right. That was a ghastly event."

I open my mouth, then close it. I don't even want to ask.

"We need to start constructing props and stages," I say, exhausted.

"Oh, that's no problem. None at all." His tone is so breezy and unconcerned that I fight the urge to flip the table on his ass.

"Oh? Have you suddenly become an expert craftsman?"

"No, but the minotaur brothers down the street are, and they owe me a favor." He gives me a sly look, and I narrow my eyes at his toothy grin.

"By the moon, Caelan, what did you do to the minotaurs?"

"Nothing," he says gleefully.

"Bullshit," I tell him.

"Precisely," he agrees. "It's not my fault that they simply have had terrible luck at finding work lately. Has nothing to do with the odor of manure that's pervading their shop."

I noisily exhale through my nostrils. You can take a trickster fae out of the Underhill, but you can't take the trickster out of the fae.

Typical.

"Well, I am sure they will be delighted to have the work, and I am sure I can talk them into a very steep discount for the good of the town. Maybe they can construct a giant carrot."

"No fucking carrots."

"I like carrots," he says.

"No."

"Potatoes?" he asks.

"What?"

"A giant potato. For the festival."

"Pumpkins," I enunciate slowly. "Pumpkins are a harvest vegetable."

"So blasé. So expected."

I stand up, the bench squeaking across the floor.

"Where are you going? We've not finished our planning."

"I'm going to see a minotaur about some pumpkins," I say evenly, unsurprised as Caelan trails behind me, holding back his laughter at himself.

At least he's his own best audience.

By the time I return to Piper's lovely apartment, she's half asleep in an armchair by the fire, so beautiful it makes my heart ache.

She glances up as the door closes behind me, and Velvet, who's sleeping by the fire, opens one eye before settling back in.

Fresh bread steams on the table, a teapot in a knit cozy set out next to a clean cup with a bowl of sugar cubes next to it. There's sliced honeyed ham on a platter with fresh vegetables, and I grin at the carrots, thinking of Caelan's absurd root vegetable fixation.

"Hi," she says tentatively, her voice husky with sleep, one slim hand reaching for me.

It's a scene of domestic bliss, one so unfamiliar and dreamy all at once it makes my heart ache.

"Kal'aki ne," I tell her, smiling wide, so happy I am afraid to think about it too hard, for fear it might slip away. "You are so beautiful."

She smiles wide at me, then yawns. "I made you some bread. I thought you might be hungry."

"Oh, I am hungry." The words rasp out of me. "But not for what's on the table."

A laugh bubbles out of her, her wide smile delighting me to no end. "Did you eat?"

Piper pauses, waiting for a response.

I shake my head, because, no, we did not.

"We got the minotaur builders to agree to make the props and things for the festival," I tell her. "We were busy."

"You need to eat," she says firmly.

I cock my head at her. "Will it make you happy?"

"If you eat? Yes."

"Fine." I nod in agreement. "But I have one condition."

Her eyebrows shoot up. "What's that?"

"You have to sit on my lap." I dive forward, grabbing her around the waist, and head for the table as she giggles, the sound music to my ears.

"You can't eat with me on your lap."

I pretend to ignore her sweet protests and grunt instead, pulling out one of her tiny chairs, slightly terrified I'm going to break it, but I sit down anyway.

"If my woman wants me to eat, then I will eat. You'll be surprised at all the things I can do at once," I tell her.

She slides down my chest, settling onto my lap, and I know the exact moment she realizes my cock is rock-hard for her, because she lets out a breathy moan that has me wanting to rip her clothes off immediately.

The anticipation, though, it keeps me from breaking my word to her.

The longer I drag this out for us both, the more satisfying it will be.

So I hum under my breath in appreciation of her hot cunt, her perfume flooding the air, and I grab the loaf of bread, tearing into it.

"Ga'Rek," she laughs, her body further relaxing into mine. "I would have cut it for you."

"No, it's not safe for you to have cutlery in your hands right now."

"What are you talking about?"

Her laugh is the best thing I've ever heard.

"Holding a knife would be very dangerous to your health," I murmur against the soft skin of her ear. My hand moves from the lovely curve of her waist to the hem of her dress, and I tug it up as she moans, one hand curving around the nape of my neck, holding me close.

Fuck, this woman.

"Kal'aki ne," I tell her, breathing in her sweet scent. "You are wet for me already, aren't you? Dripping, hot, and ready."

She arches her back, sliding her right leg further over my thigh until it's dangling to my side.

Groaning, I drag my hand higher up, teasing my fingertips against her inner thighs, until I find the soft thatch of hair covering her perfect cunt.

"No undergarments, kal'aki ne?" My eyes squeeze shut, because fuck the bread, fuck the ham, I want this witch in my mouth right now, I want her to come all around me. "You are so ready for me."

"Take a bite," she says in a throaty voice. "Take care of yourself while you take care of me."

As if I could think of anything but making this woman come, right now, in my lap.

I tear off a huge hunk of bread with my teeth, managing to get crumbs all over her—which makes her laugh again, a sweet sound that cuts off into an even sweeter moan as I rub my fingers down her soaked cunt.

I don't want the fucking bread.

I don't want anything but her.

"Ah, fuck, I want you so bad."

"Eat," she admonishes, even as she writhes, chasing my touch.

Grumbling, I take another bite, basically swallow it whole, then set the stupid bread down as I plunge two fingers deep inside her.

She groans, her cunt so wet and welcoming I nearly spend in my pants at the feel of her.

"That's my Piper, that's my sweetheart," I tell her. "Take what you need."

"Need you," she says, her blunt teeth scraping along my collarbone.

I use my thumb to rub her, watching her eyes grow heavy-lidded as her hips arch into my touch. "You smell fucking amazing," I tell her in approval.

"Ga'Rek," she whines, and my cock jerks.

My other hand reaches under her blouse, freeing her breast. It takes me no time at all to find her nipple, and when I pinch it, hard, she cries out again.

"Are you going to come for me, Piper? Like this, in my lap?"

She moans, her eyes rolling back in her head, but she's still not there, not yet.

But she will be.

"Do you need more, Piper?"

She makes a sad whine as I take my hand off her breast, freeing my cock from my trousers. Her little fingernails dig into my skin where she holds the back of my head, her other hand braced on the forearm of the hand that's working her into a frenzy.

"Need you," she gasps. "I want it."

"You don't need it yet," I tell her, chuckling at her whine in response. "You're going to come like a good witch, right here, while I talk to you."

Her arousal thickens around me, intoxicating.

She's close now, and I think I know what's going to tip her over the edge.

"I'm going to fuck you at the festival, Piper. I'm going to let my cum drip down your legs, and you're going to wear my scent so everyone knows your mine. I'm going to take you into a corner, where anyone could see us, and I'm going to make you come right there in front of the whole town."

"Oh, goddess," she moans, and I jerk my hand over my cock, gritting my teeth as I barely keep myself from coming.

"You like that idea, don't you, kal'aki ne?"

She whimpers, nodding.

"Use your words."

"Yes, I like that."

I reward her by moving my hand from my aching cock back to her breast, and she jerks her hips forward at the increased sensation. "Tell me what you want me to do to you at the festival, Piper."

"I want you to fuck me where anyone could find us," she whispers. Her core tightens around my fingers pumping in and out of her, proving exactly how badly she wants it.

I grin, well-pleased, as precum pools around the base of my cock, leaking fast now.

"That's right, I know you do. I know you want everyone to know you're mine. You want them to know you belong to me. You want them to scent me all over your pretty cunt, don't you?"

She moans again, core so tight now that I'm dying to fuck her. "That's what I want, yes."

"Then that's what you'll get. Because I will always, always give you what you want." Overcome with desire, I release my hand from her, bringing my fingers to my mouth and licking her wetness off of them.

Before I realize what she's doing, Piper's slid off my lap onto the floor.

She looks up at me with a devilish smile and wraps her hand around my cock, her other hand massaging my balls.

"Fuck, Piper."

She's beautiful like this, and I don't think I will ever get tired of seeing the way she tries to take my cock into her lush mouth, her pink tongue licking up and down the green.

She sucks hard, and I stiffen at the overwhelming sensation.

"Is my big orc going to come?" she asks, fluttering her eyelashes before wrapping her lips around my cock again. "Do you want to come in my mouth?"

My hand goes to the back of her head, and she moans, the vibrations delicious on my sensitive member—and that's all it takes.

"Fuck, yes," I tell her. "Take it."

She moans again, the low hum killing me.

I come hard, jerking into her mouth as she sucks, and sucks, swallowing my spend.

When she finally pulls away, I'm panting, and she wipes her mouth off.

"I'm not done with you yet," she purrs.

Her clothes are on the floor in the blink of an eye, like the witchy goddess she is, and I tear off my shirt and pants in an attempt to match her speed.

"It's only fair if I'm naked too," I tell her seriously, and she laughs as she climbs onto my lap, straddling me.

My hands go to her breasts, her hips, overwhelmed by how gorgeous she is, how good she feels, how lucky I am. When she guides the thick head of my cock into her body, I know I'm home.

"I want you forever," I growl.

"Good," she pants, sliding me, inch by inch, into her. "Because you're right. I'm addicted to this."

She kisses me hard, and my hand wraps around her neck, possessive, the way an orc in a mating frenzy would—because that's what this is.

That's what she is.

"My mate," I rasp. "Kal'aki ne."

Her eyes are wide in surprise, and I thrust up, causing her to cry out as her small breasts bounce.

I curl forward, catching her nipple in my mouth and sucking it.

"Ga'Rek," she moans, fluttering all around my cock, her cunt so sloppy and wet for me that pride surges through me.

"You're mine, Piper, and you're going to wear my cum like a fucking brand, do you understand?"

For a second, worry sears through me that I've gone too far, said something she won't like.

"Please, please," she says.

"I want to fuck you hard, Piper. Say no and I'll hold back."

She looks up at me, her lovely eyes wide, breath-taking, and I'm so afraid she'll say no, so afraid I'll lose her it hurts.