Ten

Chapter Ten

The hair on the back of Lachlan’s neck was standing straight up. His muscles were tight enough that it was almost painful. He wanted to do something to fix this, but Emma’s pain was so far in the past.

“Most of the Fae don’t understand human morality,” Lachlan said. “It’s alien to them.”

Her lips tightened, her expression hardening. He hurried on, wanting her to know he wasn’t trying to make excuses. He needed her to know that he was on her side.

“Some understand it fine and make the choice to spread pain and chaos wherever they go,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t seem quite as guarded. At least she was listening to him.

“This garden you described sounds like it’s either a pocket of Faerie in the mortal realm or the garden of an extremely powerful witch,” he said. “Either way, the space would be marked with their symbol—and guarded by one of their protectors.”

“You think Junebug was protecting the garden.”

“It would make sense. She didn’t become aggressive until you damaged the plants.”

“I was a child,” Emma snapped.

“I understand that. But Junebug is… what Junebug is.”

“A pooka.”

“Yes, I think so. She’s probably under a gaes that forces her to protect that site.”

“A magical compulsion.”

He warmed a bit at her knowledge. Her research may have hardened her against the Fae, but it had been sound. It was just incomplete.

“I don’t think she meant to hurt you or that other little girl,” he said. “She might have even been trying to protect you.”

“Excuse me?” Emma angled her head, her eyes heating with anger.

“Pookas are relatively harmless Fae. They don’t have much power. She shouldn’t have been able to gate you out of the garden at all.”

“Gate?”

“It’s a form of transportation spell we use. Most Fae require a doorway that they can link from one place or even realm to another, and they have to be fairly high in the courts to do so. I’m honestly stunned that she managed it.”

She shouldn’t have been able to. With what Lachlan had learned from his short time with Emma, he was beginning to understand the true power that mortals held over the Fae. Even a pooka could boost their magic incredibly not by bonding with a mortal, but by caring for one. His heart sank as he realized that he didn’t need Emma to fall in love with him for his powers to rise enough to balance those of the Yuletide Fae for the moment. He only had to fall in love with her.

As I already have…

“We got hurt,” Emma said.

“Because she couldn’t control her power. She just wanted you to be safe, and it manifested in an unexpected way.”

“No.” Emma’s expression hardened, the walls she had built inside her mind once again stacking themselves brick by brick.

“Many Fae are capricious and dangerous,” he said. “We aren’t. The courts of the Wheel of the Year are tied in with nature. Nature is capricious enough. To maintain the balance, we can’t be so mercurial. Yes, there is danger among the Fae. However, there is also beauty and wonder. You said that place held magic for you. You can feel that magic again.”

For a moment, he thought he saw a wistfulness in her expression. Her lips parted, and she leaned closer. She might not be ready to give herself over to him, but maybe he could show her that she could at least embrace the role that had been given to her.

“Even if you don’t fall in love with me,” he began, “even if you don’t want us to be married, think for a moment about what you’re trying so hard to give up. Everything you’ve told me about, all the wonders of being human that you’ve described, I’m experiencing them. And I know you’re still feeling them, too, even though you’re one of us now.”

She shook her head, her lips tightening into a line again. What could he say to help her understand the infinite possibilities before her?

“You don’t have to give up who you were because of who you’ve become,” he said. “It’s all still part of you.”

“A fairy will say anything to get what they want.”

She still didn’t trust him. Not one bit. Her fear was all-consuming. She would never be happy as a member of the Fae. Never truly be happy with him. And he realized suddenly that he would never be happy with her because of that. He didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t love him the way he loved her. He didn’t want to take that chance away from either of them—to love and be loved in return. And most of all, he wanted her to be happy. Even if it was with someone else.

“I think I understand now.” Lachlan felt his heart harden, like bark growing over a wound. New growth would follow. It always did. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t grieve the loss of everything they could have had together, everything they could have been.

The open doorway from the kitchen to the hall beckoned to him. His power flowed easily from his feet along the hardwood floor and up through the molding. Emma must have sensed it, because she turned, her eyes wide as she saw the light emanating from the portal he had created.

Leaving didn’t feel right. It never would. The scales between them weren’t balanced. But perhaps he could find a way to fix that. He adjusted the portal’s destination, then headed toward the archway.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m giving you what you want. Your freedom.”

“Wa—“

Her words were cut off as he stepped through the golden energy spanning the doorway, appearing on a porch. He looked back at the orange brick arch behind him, tempted to go back to hear what she had to say, wondering if maybe she would follow. He lingered for a moment, then dropped the spell when she didn’t appear.

This was for the best. His kingdom needed a queen who could give her heart to them. That was a key component of what was needed to balance the Wheel of the Year once more. He was sure of it. He could keep things going for long enough to find another queen.

Keep telling yourself that.

He headed into the yard beyond the porch, letting his Fae senses guide him. The mortal world faded to muted grays, shimmers of color letting him know where the Fae had touched this realm. A flash of green began his trail. He followed it to a brick wall that glowed with a verdant light, thick with magic.

This was the place where his fate had been sealed. He was standing on the sidewalk where Emma had fallen as a child. Where the pooka’s spell had gone wrong—or rather, not quite right. Junebug had probably saved Emma’s life, as well as the other little girl’s. The Fae didn’t take well to trespassers.

Reaching out, he traced his fingertips across the brick surface, letting the witch beyond know of his presence. The bricks glowed brighter, then swiveled in place, curling inwards to create a doorway. Lachlan stepped through, unsure of who he would encounter beyond, but needing to know more.

The garden was just as Emma had described it. The lion’s head fountain on the wall let out a stream of liquid filled with sparkling light, rich with magic. A wealth of herbs surrounded him, cobblestone paths winding through them and making a circular pattern around a tree at the center of the space. Thick blossoms of purple and lavender weighed down its branches and filled the air with a sweet scent.

Several stone benches curved beneath the tree, one of which was occupied. He could see the barest glimpse of a woman sitting with her back to him, her long black hair cascading down her back. She ran her hand over the empty space next to her in invitation.

Lachlan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was not looking forward to this. Witches weren’t always aligned with any of the Courts. That made them wild cards. They only answered to the forces of nature. At least he had his link with the Wheel of the Year going for him. He strode forward until he stood before her.

She was as beautiful as he’d expected. Dark eyes, pale skin, full curves. She smiled and leaned forward, making her ample breasts push against the dark green fabric of her dress. Lachlan wouldn’t even have noticed the tactic before meeting Emma. Now, he understood the appeal of physical affection much better. But he was only interested in sharing himself with Emma. He only wanted her.

“Well, well,” the witch said. “What could bring the Oak King himself to my little garden?”

“It’s just Lachlan when I’m in the mortal realm.”

“Lachlan.”

His name on her lips sent a zing through him. That shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t his truename, but it was the only name Emma had called him. Did that lend it power?He would have to reinforce his protective spells, just in case. The last thing he wanted was to create some sort of bond with this person.

“Then you may call me Rose,” she said.

“Rose.” He chuckled. It was a brilliant name to give to others, especially seeing her affinity for plants. Beautiful and potentially dangerous. A plant with built-in defenses. “I suppose you have thorns.”

“We all do.” She smiled more deeply.

“I’m looking for something.”

“Oh?” Rose patted the spot next to her again.

Lachlan didn’t wish to offend her, so he sat. He also didn’t want to remain there any longer than necessary, so he said, “A pooka.”

She flinched ever so slightly, her eyes narrowing and her smile faltering. She quickly recovered, smiling even more brightly as she leaned closer, hooking her arm in his elbow. Her magic trickled over him, much too reminiscent of Emma’s hands exploring him earlier. He sent out a surge of power, just a small one, but enough to let Rose know he was aware of what she was doing and it was unwelcome. Her smile became a bit strained, but she went on as if nothing had happened.

“A pooka?” she said. “What use would you have for one of those?”

“Curiosity,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I believe this pooka was involved in an event of interest to me. I’d like to meet her.”

“‘Her?’ Most Fae call pookas ‘it.’”

“I’m not most Fae.”

“No, you aren’t, are you?” She pursed her lips, head angled as she studied him. “I can’t imagine a little guardian beast being involved in anything interesting enough to draw your attention.”

“Humor me. I know she’s here.”

“Yes.”

Rose tilted her head, looking over Lachlan’s shoulder. He followed her line of sight to a small statue of an impish figure. Its arms were held above its head, a planter balanced in its clawed hands. Its face was contorted with strong emotion, its mouth wide and filled with sharp teeth. A tail was wrapped around one of its legs and its pointed ears and muzzle gave it only the vaguest catlike appearance. A surge of sympathy flowed out from him. The poor thing looked as if had been suffering when the spell was cast. Possibly even longer.

Junebug.

“What did she do to earn such a punishment?” he asked, keeping his voice calm and his expression impassive.

“Punishment?” Rose laughed. “No, that is necessity.”

He stared at her, waiting for her to continue. It didn’t take long.

“She was a loyal guardian for this space,”Rose said. “But something drove her mad. I came back from a journey to find the garden partially destroyed. She was stuck in this form and in some sort of rage. I froze her to keep her from doing any more damage.”

“Rage,”Lachlan said. He looked back at Junebug, his heart tugging painfully as something beyond sympathy grew within it. It wasn’t rage she was feeling. It was despair.

He didn’t have to try to imagine what Junebug had gone through. He was going through something similar himself. The pooka had befriended Emma, had loved her. But the role Junebug was forced to assume had ruined everything. She had frightened Emma terribly and knew there was no fixing the damage that had been done to their trust. There was no way they could be together as things were. Something or someone had to change.

Lachlan’s instincts had told him that he’d needed to come here to fully understand what had happened between himself and Emma. But there was more he needed to see. He stood, walking closer to the little pooka. With each step, his magic flooded out from him, more powerful than he could completely control. The herbs sprawled out of their beds, leaves plumping as they reached full maturity in moments, flower stalks shooting up and bursting open into full bloom.

He reached out to the plants to ask that they share their memories of this place. Shimmering light coated everything as the garden revealed what had happened. Emma sat on the bench near the witch. She was so young, Lachlan could barely see the woman she would grow into within her features. It was hard for him to believe that humans began this way, so helpless and small. She was reading a book to a gray cat who was nuzzled next to her. Every time she paused to turn a page, she shared the pictures first, then gently stroked the animal. The cat angled her head into Emma’s hand, fangs poking out from her lips as she smiled at the child next to her. Even without sound, Lachlan could feel the happy purr vibrating within her—the pooka.

The vision sped forward. Emma burst into the garden, another little girl right behind her, fisting Emma’s shirt in her hand. The pooka jumped up from where she was sitting on the bench, eyes wide and pupils slitted. She looked down at her paws, saw how her claws were already extending, and started to back away from the pair. The children stumbled, falling into one of the herb beds and breaking the plants within.

Junebug shook her head, obviously fighting the transformation. But the gaes was too strong. Her body grew, her back cracking as her spine pulled her up into a hunched, bipedal stance. Her head rounded, eyes growing huge till they took up most of her face. Small, serrated teeth filled a mouth that now stretched from one side of her gray-furred face to the other. Her ears lengthened along with her arms.

The children had managed to get to their feet. The one who had chased Emma went to shove her, but then saw the pooka and froze. Emma turned to see what she was looking at and screamed.

The look on the pooka’ s face… It would haunt Lachlan for eternity. He could see her heart breaking, even as she continued to struggle against the spell that insisted she protect the witch’s garden. Then the children tried to run.

Their feet tore into the soft soil, trampling and breaking more plants. Junebug let out a caterwaul, the magical scream invoking terror in the girls. She leapt down from the bench, her claws scraping against the stone as she charged them. Her arm was pulled back, claws fully extended to slash at them. Emma was saying something, but Lachlan couldn’t hear in the memory. He could only see what happened. Emma grabbed the girl who had been chasing her and hugged her, turning so that she was between the girl and the pooka, her eyes clenched shut as she tried to protect her.

The pooka’ s eyes widened. At the last second, she sheathed her claws instead and pushed Emma toward the magical doorway to the garden with a powerful blast of magic. Even after all these years, the residue of the energy was powerful enough to throw him out of the vision.

Junebug had sealed the history of the space as best she could, trying to protect Emma so that the witch’s scrying spells wouldn’t reveal who had actually damaged the garden. Lachlan’s eyes watered from the brightness of it. He turned his back toward Rose and quickly wiped the moisture away. Calling on the energy of the plants in the garden, he wiped the memory clear so that no one else would be able to discover the truth of what had happened.

“Is everything alright?” Rose asked cautiously.

He could not show weakness. He could not show desire. And yet, he couldn’t leave Junebug like this.

“Give me the pooka,” he said. “And I will give you a boon.”

Rose’s eyes widened with a surprise she didn’t bother trying to hide. Then the eyes narrowed, an unsettling smirk coming to Rose’s lips. She stood and approached him, her hips swaying provocatively. She stopped quite close to him, her sultry gaze roving over his body.

“What sort of boon did you have in mind?” she said.

Instead of being intrigued, he was repulsed. An unpleasant shudder passed through him at the idea of being with someone else, anyone else other than Emma. He had to get over this—get over her—if he was ever to find another person he could love and rule over his Court with. But he couldn’t bring himself to even consider that now.

He reached out and clasped Rose’s hand. Her smirk deepened, and she arched a single thin eyebrow. The expression faded as he lifted her hand and held it between both of his, pushing some of his magic into it. The markings along his arms twitched, vines unfurling from his skin and curling around their hands. He watched as her sultry expression turned to one of shock, her smile widening in what looked like honest joy. His vines retreated back to rest against his skin and he released her.

“Greenthumb,” he said. “That’s worth a thousand plant holders, and that’s all this pooka is to you anymore.”

“Now you have me very curious. What could you possibly want with my little servant that’s worth this?”

“My servant. And that knowledge is not part of the deal.”

“I never agreed to a deal.”

Lachlan stepped closer, so that she had to crane her neck to look up at him. He leaned down, knowing his frame wouldn’t intimidate her, but his magic sure as hell would.

“I don’t have to be nice,” he said. “No one expects me to be. Dispel your gaes.“

The words came out more bitter than he’d intended, but they were true. Among the Fae, kindness was not expected and seldom offered. He was sick of it. Even if Emma wasn’t going to be at his side, he was going to make strides to change that.

After this exchange.

Rose knew that he could turn his ‘boon’ to wither easily. Any plant she touched or even breathed near would shrivel and die. From the looks of her garden, she was a green witch. Her power came from the plants. He had just made it exponentially more potent. She’d be a fool to push for more.

“I don’t have to be nice, either,” she said.

She waved an arm toward the pooka. A blast of dispelling magic came out from her. He felt the gaes drop, along with the spell of binding. Cracks formed along the pooka’s skin, the stone sloughing off. The little creature crouched and let out a hiss. It’s claws extended as it raced toward Lachlan.

“Junebug,” he shouted.

The pooka’s eyes widened as she skidded to a stop. She stared up at him, arms lax at her sides. Lachlan knelt before her and stretched out his hand. Junebug sniffed the air, testing his scent. Her eyes widened and she ran forward, grabbing his arm and running her nose along it. After his time with Emma, he had expected that her scent would be mingling with his.

Junebug looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with moisture. Lachlan nodded.

“Do you accept this as your truename?” he asked.

The pooka nodded, then crawled up his arm and perched on his shoulder as he stood. Rose glowered at them, her lips pulled in a frown.

“Who gave her a name?” she said.

“I did.”

He doubted she believed him. He would have to keep an eye on this one. But for now, he had more important matters to tend to.

“Our business is done.” Before she could say anything more, he let his power burst up from the ground, petals swirling around him as he summoned a vortex to take him away from this place. He stepped through the magical corridor into Crystal Creek park.

The trees had greened and the irises were blooming. In the distance, the trickling water of the park’s namesake sounded. Lachlan reached up to Junebug and scratched behind her ear. She brushed her head against his and let out a little whine.

“I miss her, too,” he said. “But I think I have an idea where at least one of us can be happy with her.”