Chapter 9

Nine

Iawoke from a restless sleep to a light tinkling sound and the soft chirp of morning larks. As the fuzz of a dream I couldn't remember peeled away, memories of yesterday and last night returned to me. I bolted upright. What I saw immediately pulled a smile to my lips.

Vallon sat cross-legged on the far side of the coal-fire still burning, for I could feel its heat and see the dim glow in the gray morning light. He was hunched over, murmuring softly to Gwendazelle, who was crouched on the branch she'd slept upon, both of them holding ornate, silver teacups.

I rubbed my eyes and uncurled from the nest of blankets, my tummy rumbling at the sweet, spicy scent. They both looked up.

"Good morning," said Vallon casually, taking a sip of tea.

"Morning, Murgha," chirped Gwenda, sipping from her own tiny cup that seemed to be an exact replica of Vallon's, only much, much smaller.

I blinked sleepily, wondering if I was dreaming. Between them was a steaming silver pot and a matching creamer decanter upon a small, silver tray.

Yesterday, when this terrifying shadow fae stormed into Papa's inn and swept me away by force, I never imagined this picture of him sitting daintily with a pretty wood sprite, sipping morning tea from an obviously expensive and ornamental tea set.

"Do you like tea?" he asked.

"I love tea," I told him honestly. Though I had never drunk from a service such as this.

"Have a seat." He gestured toward the hide that was still spread out on his side of the fire, where I'd sat and interrogated him last night.

I sat, cross-legged, facing the tea set, admiring it as he poured a steaming cup.

"Do you take cream?"

I nodded. "I smell cinnamon. What is that other sweet smell?"

"Dried maragord peels and rose hips. It's a simple tea, but one I prefer."

I wanted to cry from sheer joy. Maragord was a delectable fruit that I rarely got the chance to eat. It grew in Northgall and the northern parts of Lumeria. It was utterly delicious.

I watched him pour the cream, his broad, clawed hands and long fingers looking elegant as he carefully served me tea. When I took the cup and sipped, he watched me carefully. I hummed with pleasure and smiled at the spicy sweetness and the richness of the cream. It tasted better than any tea I'd ever made for myself.

"This is delicious," I admitted warmly.

He smiled. "Good."

We sat in companionable silence, the three of us sipping tea as the world came awake with more chirping of birds in the forest. I admired the silver cup in my hand, an ornate, engraved design that looked like dragon wings but were actually those of a shadow fae with swirling flourishes that repeated all the way around.

I pointed at Gwenda. "You had a cup made for her?"

"Gwenda loves tea," was his simple answer.

He didn't explain how he apparently cared a great deal for the wood sprite. Gwenda smiled, flashing her serrated teeth before sipping again, the tiny teacup in both of her hands.

"They make these in Gadlizel?"

"You sound surprised."

"I suppose I am."

"Gadlizel is an extremely civilized city. We enjoy our tea as much as the next fae."

I laughed. "I enjoy my tea in an earthenware cup with a chip on one side. This is far fancier than I'm used to."

"You should have all the luxuries your heart desires." His voice rumbled with silky sincerity.

For a moment, I was caught at the truth of it. He believed I deserved better. Besides Tessa, he was the first person to ever wish something more for me. I had to change the subject.

"What does Gadlizel look like?"

He finished his cup and set it on the tray. "It is a vast city spread across a valley midway up the Solgavia Mountains. The palace is closer to the peak. Our buildings are made of a pale slate that we quarry nearby. We have fine craftsman and artisans that have made the city one of the most beautiful in all the realms."

"Is it more beautiful than Silvantis or Issos?" Those were the two great cities of Northgall and Lumeria.

"Much more beautiful." He watched me, his gaze dipping to my mouth when I sipped my tea.

"I'd like to see Gadlizel."

A crease formed between his brow before he set his cup on the tray. "You will. But we will stay in my villa for a time. It's above the city proper."

I didn't want to wreck the peaceful morning, but I couldn't refrain from telling him, "I want to search for my sister."

He didn't appear surprised.

"If she's alive and truly living with the beast fae," I continued, "then I must find her."

"I know," he said calmly. "I knew you would want to. But first, I must report to my prince. I've been away from Gadlizel for too long."

"You've been here?" I gestured around us. "For how long?"

His gaze remained steady and poised. "A few months."

He'd been camped up here in this makeshift shelter for months? Watching out for me?

"Why couldn't you keep an eye on me from afar like your father did?"

He clamped his jaw tight and stood. "We should get moving."

I finished my tea in one last gulp then handed him the cup. While he set about emptying the portable pit of blue-coal and packing it away, I found my brush at the bottom of my bag.

Gwenda perched on a branch and watched me with a contented smile as I untangled and unwound the small braids at my temples.

"It must look like a mess."

She shook her head. "So pretty."

I brushed through my mass of hair several times, very aware of Vallon moving around, stealing glances at me while he packed.

By the time he was done, I'd managed to braid my hair into one long rope. I thought it more practical for travel, to keep it out of my way. Once I'd stored my brush in my bag, I turned to find him waiting with his own rucksack slung over one shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked.

I was, of course, but then I realized I was about to be in his arms, flying high above the ground. When my pulse rocketed, I wasn't sure if it was at the thought of flying again or being pressed so close to his body.

I nodded, and he closed the space between us, staring down at me with that enigmatic, cool expression. His crimson gaze was so intense I had to bite my lip to keep a whimper of pleasure from escaping. His nearness made me dizzy with an unquestionable desire. Heat crawled up my chest and neck, flushing my cheeks.

His gaze wandered over my face. "Don't be nervous," he said in that deep timbre of his.

"I'm not."

When a sudden wind rustled the leaves, a strand of my hair I'd missed crossed my face and caught on my lip. He lifted his hand, and I didn't move as he slowly removed the lock with one finger and tucked it behind my ear. His claw gently scraped my scalp, the pad of his finger gliding along the shell of my ear.

He watched me with careful scrutiny. Then he scooped me into his arms. I sucked in a breath and quickly wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Comfortable?" he asked.

As comfortable as I could be in a shadow fae's arms. I wanted to laugh, but I simply nodded.

He looked up, revealing the line of his thick, masculine throat. I was shocked at my sudden desire to bury my face there and inhale deeply of his scent.

Some madness must have come over me. I didn't even know this male, and my entire being—heart, soul, and body—was wholly entranced by him.

So what if he'd saved me from being gambled away to that disgusting ambassador? I would've run away from Rukard if he'd won me in the game. And sure, Vallon had also had enough care to grab my necklace for me. He had honor in heeding his father's dying wish. But I'd admired many similar males before and not had this visceral, aroused reaction to them.

He was a foreigner. A dark fae. By all accounts, an enemy to our kind.

Then why did he feel like the opposite to me, like a trusted friend I've been waiting for all my life?

He flew north, the sun slowly rising to the east and glazing the world in gold. Yet again, I became fascinated by the way the landscape looked from up here.

"Are you warmer in the new clothes?" His chest rumbled, his voice close and intimate even while the wind rushed over us.

"Yes." I hadn't realized how drafty and uncomfortable my dress had been from this height until he asked. "Thank you for the clothes."

"You're welcome."

Down below, I could see a cluster of small buildings spread out in a curving line. "That's the Borderlands?"

The Borderlands weren't a village of any particular kind. And it was home to many different kinds of fae—light and dark. It was literally a string of sporadic inns, houses, and shops selling wares to anyone who passed between Lumeria and Northgall.

"Yes," he answered.

"Is that where we're going?"

He began to descend, flapping his wings once then soaring on air.

"I need to get a decent meal into you before our longer trek into the mountains."

He didn't land next to what looked to be a tavern and inn as I'd expected. Instead, he slowed and dropped behind a copse of trees close to the inn. From here, I could read the sign hanging over the door with bright yellow lettering—The Black Boar.

He set me on my feet, his large hand steadying me before he let go.

"Are we hiding from someone?" I asked as he peered through the thin grove of trees at the inn.

"Merely being cautious. Making sure no other Mevian guards are looking for you."

I'd been so consumed with my captor at the time, I hadn't thought about those guards. Strange how a mere few hours could change everything. I had no intention of escaping now or ever going back.

"What happened to the other guards in my village?"

"One is dead. The other had better found a healer by now if he wanted to save his arm." Then he walked on casually ahead of me.

I hurried to catch up. "Dead?"

A frown creased his brow. "They tried to kill me if you recall. I thought I was being kind to let one live."

An uncomfortable laugh bubbled up my throat. "Very kind."

"Would you have preferred they kill me? Then drag you off to be that abhorrent lecher's property?"

He was offended, and I realized quickly I didn't want to hurt him, not even in the smallest way. I'm not sure where these protective instincts came from in regard to Vallon, but I couldn't do anything besides act on them.

"Of course not." I shrugged. "It's just that sword fights to the death aren't something I normally witness. Actually, I've never seen a physical altercation like that in my life." Though I had run away before I had seen much of it at all. But I had seen Vallon deftly dodge and swing his sword, fighting two at once with practiced ease.

"I've lived a rather quiet, sheltered life away from violence and war," I added.

"You're fortunate in that regard."

I huffed a small laugh. "I suppose I'm a little shocked that anyone was fighting over me in the first place. That's never happened, even if it likely had more to do with the guardsmen's pride than anything else."

Vallon pulled me to a stop and faced me, his large hand wrapped around my forearm. His expression had hardened into sharp, tight angles. "The fact that no male saw fit that you were and are a female worth fighting for is their loss. But I'm here now." He shifted closer, those crimson eyes bewitching in their intensity. "And I'll kill anyone who dares to even touch you."

For a breathless moment, I simply stared back, soaking in his lethal promise. I tried for levity, smiling as I said, "You've taken your father's vow very seriously."

His answering reply was a sweeping examination of my face, ending at my mouth. Then he dropped my arm and urged me forward with a hand at my back. "Let's get you something to eat."