16. Keira

Chapter 16

Keira

D rake whistles as he takes thin steaks and lays them out on slabs of granite, brushing a mixture of spices onto them. Zinnia touches those rocks with the tips of her fingers, her pale flesh flaring to the brilliant orange of metal held in a fire, transferring heat from her magic. The meat immediately begins to sizzle and my mouth waters at the odors rising from it.

“I guess tree nymphs don’t appreciate a woodfire in their midst.” I try to make conversation.

Despite Drake’s teasing sense of humor, the broad-shouldered man still makes me nervous.

And Zinnia, she is slight but angry and deadly like a viper. There is definitely something snakelike in the hard, yellow glare she pins people beneath. Her severely angled eyebrows seem to have a permanent furrow between them. Her black hair is a shock against her fair skin, and it hangs loosely to her waist.

“Tree nymphs don’t like fire.” Zinnia turns her unnerving stare on me, and I can’t help feeling like every layer of my being is being unraveled and assessed by them.

“I wouldn’t enjoy being near a damn fire either if I were made of wood and leaves.” Drake laughs, chopping a cooked slab of meat with a butcher’s blade and moving it to a cooler rock, flicking a piece into his mouth.

“You’re no less flammable,” Zinnia snaps at him.

“Yes, but I can run from a fucking fire. I’m not rooted to the ground like a tree,” Drake counters.

“What if the whole forest was burning down around you?” Zinnia leans into him. “How fast can you run?”

“Are - are you planning my death?” Drake glances from Zinnia to me and back, his eyes widening in mock horror, then a slow smile grows on his lips.

“A woman can dream,” Zinnia says with such a low deadpan tone, my stomach tumbles.

Drake moves to pop another piece of meat in his mouth, but Zinnia reaches out with lightning-quick speed and grabs his wrist. “There won’t be any food for anyone else if you keep eating it all.” She slaps Drake’s cheek lightly, but a smirk splits her lips. “This one is always good for a laugh.” She tosses over her shoulder at me. I can’t help staring after her as she gets up and leaves.

“She terrifies me a little,” Drake admits, watching her leave.

“Terrifies you? I was about to wet myself,” I admit.

Drake laughs, busying himself cooking.

“Is she always that intense?” I venture.

“Yes. No. When you get to know her, you can see through the cracks in the mask. It becomes easier to tell when she is amused.”

I swallow nervously. Somehow, I think Caitlin would love this woman.

A pang of grief twists within my chest at the thought of my sister. I am so damn afraid for her. This Cyprien seems like a monster.

Drake’s movements catch my attention. He takes a thick slice of flatbread and spoons chopped meat onto it in a line. Spiced vegetables are added on top, along with a red sauce, then he passes the meal to me. I take the leaf plate in both hands and stare at the meal, trying to decide how to eat it.

All the toppings are in a neat row in the middle. I nibble an edge of the flatbread, then glance at Drake, who has his lips pressed tight as though he is trying not to laugh. I take another bite, trying to get more than bread in my mouth.

This thing is impossible.

A rumbling laughter rolls behind me and I turn to Aldrin. My heart skips a beat as he walks toward me, and I try to ignore the fact. His fingers brush mine as he takes the plate from me, wraps the bread into a cylinder with one side tucked in, then hands it back to me.

“I see humans have forgotten more than our history. It’s your loss. Our food is bloody amazing.” Aldrin’s amber eyes dance as they hold mine.

I take a bite of the roll and flavor bursts within my mouth, the meaty juices popping with the tang of spices and a hint of chili.

Aldrin clicks his fingers at Drake and gestures toward the food then a plate.

Drake spreads out his arms with feigned confusion on his face.

Aldrin grunts. “Bread and meat. Pass it. Extra sambelini.”

“Manners, Aldrin, manners. You don’t need to be a brute because we are in the wildlands.” Drake baits the man.

“Please, oh protector of the Spring Court, commander of the special forces, pass me some dinner so I can get on with my pressing duties.” Aldrin half bows at him.

Triumph flicks across Drake’s face as he prepares another open wrap for Aldrin and hands the leaf plate over. My gaze flicks from him to Aldrin and back. Why is Drake not the leader of this band, when he had such a title? How in the darkest realm did they get exiled?

Aldrin turns to me. “Would you like to see the view from the top of The Tower?”

“That’s your pressing business?” Drake asks, his voice pitched high.

“Very pressing,” Aldrin says around a mouthful of food, then swallows. “Keira wants to prove that I should let her come tonight.”

Drake raises his eyebrows and looks at me, as though he sees me through a different light. “Good luck.” He tips his head.

There is no condescension in his tone. No comments on how unladylike it would be or how a human woman should do as she is told. I could be friends with this man.

Aldrin flicks his head at me and starts walking toward the staircases that run in a zigzag up the wall of the tree, broken up every so often by platforms. Something about the teasing glint in his eye as he glances at me over his shoulder forces me to follow like a puppy, even though those stairs fill me with apprehension. It could take a lifetime to climb to the top of them.

I am curious. That is all. It has nothing to do with the fact that I can’t drag my eyes away from the rippling of his muscles as he moves, or the way his fitted pants hug his perfectly sculpted ass. Damn. This man is dangerous. He is going to make me lose my mind if I don’t get away from him soon enough.

I have to half-run to catch up to his long stride. “We aren’t going to climb that , are we?”

Aldrin glances at the stairs. “Gods no. There is a lift. I hope you’re not afraid of heights, because it is a little…airy.”

He brings me to a small platform of interwoven branches against the wall, and as we step on it, wooden limbs grow swiftly around the perimeter, forming a cage that completely closes us in. Taut vines extend up from the two far sides, reaching way above us in a loop, and they suddenly tug the entire enclosure upwards.

I stagger, and grab onto Aldrin, the most stable thing in the lift.

That railing looks as though I could easily fall straight through it.

I ignore the low chuckle reverberating through him. My entire body is rigid as my fingers curl into the hard panels of his leather armor, and after a heartbeat, he wraps a tight arm around my shoulders.

My breaths come in hard, sharp gasps.

Our rushing ascent sets a breeze blowing my hair away from my face and my stomach does somersaults. The sense of weightlessness fills me as the ground drags away, turning everything miniature before me. I try to ignore the fact I can see right through the many small holes in the basket.

This is exhilarating and terrifying .

My head spins as we stop at solid ground, but I find I cannot move. I struggle not to vomit. It takes a long moment for the fear to ease from my nerves.

“Are you okay?” Aldrin says gently, peering down into my face.

I am practically wrapped around him, my arms encircling his waist and my head buried against his chest. His strong arm pins me to his side. I drag in a long breath that only fills my nose with his scent and remove myself from him. I take a shaky step from the basket to the ground beyond. Aldrin doesn’t let go of me, but instead guides me by the elbow.

“Sorry.” He finally lets go of me. “I probably should have warned you.”

I hit him in the chest, then hit him again. It is like striking a stone wall. “Yes, you should have warned me! I wasn’t expecting that . It took us a minute for to rise so high.”

I stagger away from him, while he lets out a low laugh at my back.

The sight of the canopy snags my attention. I expected nothing but branches up here, but there is a flat, woody ground that stretches out and is covered in spongy moss and wildflowers. Pools of water collect in the crags and ferns grow in soil collected in nooks.

The treetop appears like a sparse forest, the topmost branches reaching up from the ground in long appendages that explode with sprays of emerald leaves.

The canopy of the nymph’s trees forms a great platform in a ring, and its foliage creates a defensive barrier around the outside edge. There are slits in the woven branches of the walls for archers and viewing balconies with a hint of a vista visible beyond.

The diffraction of intense orange light under the rays of the evening sun catches my attention. I turn to find a massive plinth, then another and another. There are five ?evenly spaced across the platform, so similar to the jade plinths we use to open the portals.

They are double Aldrin’s height and as wide as him. I walk up to the closest and run my hands across the runes carved into the orange stone veined with red and brown.

“The jasper plinths are beacons,” Aldrin says beside me. “This tower is one of many that watches over our border with the Winter Court. If an invading army crosses into our lands, the nymphs light up the jasper plinths. They send out a beam of red light and magic, which sets off every other watch tower in the Spring Court. The alarm lets us know of the threat immediately, and the signature of the magic tells us where it comes from.”

“That is ingenious,” I murmur.

“Come.” Aldrin takes my hand and pulls me toward one of the balconies. “The view is breathtaking from up here.”

The vista stretches out before us, all the way to the horizon, where the forest thins, then finally gives way to a stark white plane of snow. There is very little leaf canopy on any of the trees here, but as the land inches toward winter, the skeletal branches become more prominent and the flower buds disappear.

“Is there a physical divide between courts?” I ask.

“There are magical wards,” Aldrin says. “But those are more deterrents than fortified barriers, with plenty of gaps in them. It would take considerable effort to get an army through, but it won’t stop an invading force. It's just another obstacle.”

A silence grows as I take in every detail of the forest, noticing the outline of another distant Watchtower Tree.

Aldrin shuffles beside me. “Come. The sun will slip behind the horizon in an hour. It gets dark fast so close to winter. I brought you up here so we wouldn’t have an audience when you try to steal my dagger.” Aldrin taps the blade at his belt.

“I appreciate that.” A nervousness rolls through me.

I must be insane. The man is a head taller than me, full of taut muscle and built broadly for strength. I’ve seen how lightning-fast his movements are. I am grateful for the fact he took off his spiked armor.

He is fae and I challenged him. I am definitely losing my mind.

Aldrin leads me to a clearing of sorts that is encircled by a bit of a thicket. He stops in its middle, and a sly grin grows on his lips and fills his face.

“It’s not too late to back down, Keira.” He pulls a blindfold from his pocket and lets it hang in an outstretched hand .

I take the strip of fabric from him and stand on the tips of my toes to tie it around his eyes. My fingers brush the lines of his face, gliding over his freshly shaven skin and threading into his pulled back hair as I knot the fabric. The masculine tang of sweat mixed with the floral notes of spring hits me.

A strong urge overtakes me to run my hands across his cheek and down his chest. The motion would distract him and I should use every weapon at my disposal with this man. My stomach tumbles at the idea, but I force myself to step back.

Aldrin lifts part of the blindfold and catches my eye. “Walk back to the lift. When you get there, it will begin. I will remain in this spot, only moving to defend myself. You have until sunset to take my dagger.”

“You’re going to regret going easy on me.” I pinch the blindfold and pull it back over his eye. The man grunts in response.

I do as I am told, lingering at the lift to think. This is no deer that I hunt. His other senses will be far stronger than my own. I have spent hours thinking on how to mitigate each.

I creep through the thin brush littered with twigs, carefully picking each silent step and gently pushing between ferns so they don’t make a sound.

Golden rays of sun fall upon Aldrin’s tanned skin, as he stands incredibly still in the clearing, his nostrils flaring as he tries to catch my scent on the gentle breeze.

I approach the edge of the trees, spans away from him, and pull off my shawl, tying it to a branch. The site I selected is downwind from him. I make noise, enough to be believable, and he turns straight to me with a smile on his face.

“You’ll have to do better than that.” His tone is so arrogant, so self-assured, I can’t help smiling.

I grasp a long limb from a tree and turn a segment of the woody flesh to ash, breaking it away from the trunk. My magic whittles the limb until I have a staff the same height as myself.

I slip away on silent feet. I collect leaves and bruise them in my hand, rubbing the sharp scent of the vegetation on myself, then send a steady air wield rippling through my shawl, wafting a breeze straight at him.

He faces the wrong direction as I stalk him ever so slowly, step by step. I feel like a graceful, viscous mountain lion hunting its prey. With a gentle flick of my earth magic, I snap a twig a span away from my shawl, and hope he thinks I'm still standing in that direction and nowhere near him.

The rubies of the blade in his belt glitter in the dying sunlight.

I almost don’t breathe as I near, creeping until I am almost close enough to touch him. I snap a large branch from a distant tree and as the weight of it crashes down, I use the sound to cover my attack.

With a roll of my wrist, my earth magic corrodes the woody ground Aldrin stands upon, and my staff swings through the air and takes his feet out from under him. I throw a blast of air at him to knock him off balance for good measure. My body swings around him with the momentum of my attack.

He falls, grunting in surprise, and I thrust a knot of solid air at his belt to knock the knife from its scabbard. Aldrin dissipates my magic effortlessly. He rolls into his fall and uses the momentum to spring back to his feet, his hand over the prize.

I retreat, sliding back into the trees.

I need a new plan. His mastery of magic is immense, as is his skill as a fighter. There is no way I can take him on in a direct attack. I didn’t even know it was possible to unweave another person’s threads of magic.

Aldrin’s rumbling laughter reverberates through the clearing. “Show me what else you have.”

That arrogance could be a weakness.

He turns his head around, clearly trying to pick up a trace of me with his senses. I grab a pebble and flick it with wind to bounce straight off his forehead. Gods, it's satisfying.

“Ouch!” He says. “Now you’re toying with me.” He turns to face me and my smile slips. I just showed him my location, but it gave me an idea.

I circle around him, closer and closer, getting myself into position. I whip up a breeze, encasing him in a gentle whirlwind, then weave another and another, until there are a dozen different flows whipping around him. Aldrin raises an eyebrow, as though he is going to allow my magic for now. I suddenly feel more like an angry kitten attempting to claw at him than a prowling mountain lion.

The currents of my whirlwinds pick up leaf litter, pebbles and twigs, and I flick them at him from every direction, like pestering flies. All that magic has a strain on me and sweat drips down my forehead and back, but there are too many flows for him to dissipate at once.

The ground ripples and groans as I take control of it, suddenly ripping it out from beneath one of his feet. I rarely use my earth magic, normally relying on air instead, but being in this realm has uncovered a depth of power I didn’t know I had.

Aldrin slips to one knee and I run at him. I direct a thrust of air to grab the dagger from his belt, but I am holding onto too many flows to have precise control. The blade rushes upwards instead, flung directly above his head. I don’t hesitate for a heartbeat. I leap upon his upturned knee and propel myself skywards after my prize.

My reaching fingers curl around the hilt of the blade at the same moment Aldrin’s arms wrap around my waist. We must look like a pair of professional dance partners mid-performance for a heartbeat of time, until we crash to the ground together.

A bed of spongy moss springs up beneath us as I hit the ground and Aldrin falls on top of me. My whirlwind still pelts him with debris, but his first thought was to soften my landing. I drop my magic with an abruptness.

Laughter explodes from me, building and building until my chest shakes with it and tears pour down my face and I am no longer in control. It is high-pitched and loud, a sound made with complete abandon.

The warmth of the moment spreads throughout me, taking away my worries with each breath, and I realize I haven’t felt like this in a long, long time.

The thought is like a bucket of icy water over my emotions .

Aldrin is still consumed by a fit of laughter. It vibrates through my body, his jolting breaths and shaking body. He is half sprawled on top of me, half trapped under, as our bodies awkwardly intertwine. I realize he landed with his face buried within my chest, and the ridiculousness of it makes me lose myself to laughter all over again, really making the situation worse.

Aldrin pulls off the blindfold and stares down at me with awe. “What part of the underworld did you come from? Are you a member of the wild hunt I didn’t recognize? I have to give you points for creativity.” His head collapses on me again, this time on my stomach as he gives into another bout of laughter. I think he is completely incapacitated.

His blade is still clutched in my outstretched hand, and I flash it before him. “I told you I’m coming tonight.”

“Yes.” His eyes sober. “You’re coming tonight.”

I can tell the moment the giggles leave him and he realizes the position we are in. That his body pins me down and I haven’t tried to move him.

Aldrin’s amber gaze turns liquid hot, running up my body. It lingers on the lacing of my dress’ neckline that has become dangerously loosened and shows the generous curves of my breasts beneath. How the rest of the fabric pulled taut over their heaving swells. Heat flushes through my skin under the intensity of that appraising gaze.

He is so incredibly close, the hard planes of his body are pressed against my torso, and one of his thick thighs somehow fell between my thighs. I want him to press it harder. To drag it against me and light up a fire at my core from the friction.

My gaze darts across the chiseled muscle of his arms, exposed beneath his rolled-up tunic, to where they cage me beneath him. His own neckline gaps as he hovers over me, and the most beautiful sight of tanned, abs and pectorals greets me.

I have to drag my attention away from them, to the sharp angles of his face, still hovering over my bosom.

When his gaze locks with mine, there is heat in his eyes. “You know, no one is going to miss us for at least another hour or two. ”

He drags a finger along my cheek, across my lips, then down my neck, chest, going lower and lower. Aldrin stares at me, daring me to stop him, as he reaches my breasts and drags his finger between them, right down my exposed cleavage. A shuddering breath leaves me as my back arches into his touch. I want him to do it again with his tongue.

“Do we care if they do?” I thread my fingers through his hair.

Those eyes rove across my body and face again, searching for something.

My heart thunders, as the most beautiful man I have ever seen looks at me with such open lust.

A wild gleam enters his expression, as he crawls up my body until we are face to face. “You are wicked.”

Heat rushes through my every extremity and my stomach tumbles with anticipation as his breath caresses my cheek. I run my hands down his chest and the hard ridges of his muscles feel exactly as I thought they would. I want him. Need consumes me, hot and fast.

I came here to embrace this pilgrimage and the experiences it throws at me. To find myself. To put my needs first, and doesn’t that include my own pleasure?

His face lowers toward mine, until I think he is going to kiss me, but he whispers in my ear. “Do you want a fae lover?” His breath tickles my skin.

Everything within me freezes at his boldness. While I take a fraction of a second to consider, he kisses a line down the side of my neck. It almost drives out all rational thought. I snake my arms behind his neck, savoring the feel of his lips against my skin. It makes the muscles of my core tighten.

I didn’t come here for a lover. I’ve taken steps to make sure a magical pregnancy won’t happen. All I know is that I want to experience him. That this is a man who could make me feel alive.

Aldrin pulls himself up onto one elbow as he lazily looks at me. Any hesitation I may have had disappears.

“Yes,” I breathe. “I want a fae lover. ”

His entire body stiffens, and he pulls himself off me with an abruptness.

I stare at him with utter confusion at the sudden mood change, while my body prickles from the cold in the absence of his embrace. He gets to his feet and glares down at me as I pull myself up.

“I should have known. You are like the rest of them.” He spits at me and tension coils in his muscled shoulders. “Here to take a lover and sneak off home with the unborn baby.”

“What!” I find myself yelling as all that building passion turns to anger. “ You tried to seduce me ! I haven’t made a pass at you”

Aldrin gives me a hard look, as though I am caught in a lie.

“Does it even matter to you humans which fae gets you pregnant?” His voice is low, stone cold, and somehow that feels worse than shouting. “Don’t think you and your sister are the first women to come here. You said it yourself, human women come here for a lover.”

“I said they are enticed by the freedoms here.” I am angry enough I could throw something at him. “We get to actually live when we are in this realm. But of course, any woman with a healthy sexuality must be a villain right?”

Aldrin’s features darken. “Isn’t this what your family does? Send its women to this realm looking for a lover? How else is your magic so strong? You must be half fae. Was it your mother who went to the autumn realm? Your blood is brimming with their destructive earth magic.”

I hiss. “My grandmother?—”

“Your grandmother. And I wonder which poor fool she seduced, then stole his baby.” Venom pours out of him, so at odds with the man whispering in my ear a moment ago.

“A dead fool who tried to hurt her and keep her prisoner!” I walk right up to him and speak slowly into his face. “If you want to end the prejudice between our people, then you have to learn to trust me. Stop assuming I’m going to do to you any and every bad thing my people have been accused of. Didn’t I agree to trust you?”

His grim countenance doesn’t change .

I don’t drop my eyes from his. “Do I need to make an oath that I won't steal any babies while I’m here? Not even a spare changeling.”

He lets out a barked laugh, catching my ironic joke. For centuries, it was us humans who accused the fae of stealing our babies.

“Fine. Fine.” He throws up his arms. “But I had to know. I had to know. And why else did you agree to…”

I raise my eyebrows at him and he swears, looking away from me for a single moment.

“I’m not a complete prude. I just like privacy,” I say softly.

Tension crackles between us and he looks at me differently, analyzing and appraising. “Look I?—”

He reaches out a hand toward me and I turn my back on him, stalking toward the lift.

“How did I end up the arsehole in this situation?” he mutters behind my back.

I hold his jeweled blade into the air. “I’m keeping this.”

Aldrin continues to grumble as he follows me, but doesn’t protest. Magic hums through the dagger. This relic would be enough if I decide to get Caitlin and go straight back home, but I won’t let this stupid, beautiful man make me miss the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of exploring this realm. Of living.

Gods, is it too much to ask to take a lover who knows what he is doing? One who would care about feminine pleasure as much as the fae are famed to? I don’t want to live a life where all I know is the dissatisfaction of Finan’s fumbling hands.