I laugh and shake my head. “I have no story other than the fact I wish to settle things between us.” I hold up a hand to stall any comments on her part. “I am not admitting to saying anything wrong in our altercation. I still firmly believe that the fates have operated to bring us together and that by your acceptance of our hive that you are ours as much as we are yours. Nothing changes that.”
“Uh-huh,” she says, her eyes narrowing.
I give her a small, unapologetic shrug, willing and desiring there to be full honesty between us. “It is the way of nature. Fae matings burn bright and relentlessly. This is no less true for pixies, perhaps even more so since our essence is akin to fire. With such passions can come other intense emotions. I admit that I didn’t take your refusal well and have been angry about it, but it doesn’t change anything in the bond between us and my need for you. For a time, during the mating heat, I have felt you within my mind and heart, and now I can know no peace without you there. Even now, I cannot protect myself as I have my brothers from your touch in the bond. To know the you that you don’t show anyone else, and yet watching you from afar, yearning to be the one to show you what is being offered to you as our queen.”
She snorts, her eyes shining with amusement. “You think you know me, do you?”
I shrug again and grin down at her. “I know what makes you scream in pleasure.”
Orenda lets out a bark of laughter and shoves at me ineffectually. “You do realize that you’re a bit of an asshole, right?”
“I don’t understand the reference… but if by that you mean that I am relentless and verge on ruthless, well, that is nothing I haven’t heard before,” I admit as I lean forward to cage her between my arms. “I also know what makes you sad,” I whisper, watching her lips part in surprise, “and my heart wants to break to give over its pieces to mend the wounds in yours. I know the taste of your joy, the playful sting of your humor, and the bite of your anger.” I wince as I recall the scrubber that she nearly took my head off with. “I very painfully remember your anger. You can be a vicious little thing,” I tease.
Her smile blooms again, reaching her eyes.
I stroke a claw down her cheek gently. “I want you to know your hive, and for them to know you the way I have seen you. I want us all to have a real chance for our future. I know you want to return to your home.” I consider and swallow painfully. “If you cannot live as a pixie… I can’t speak for my brothers, but I would give up my wings and fire to join you.”
I open the bond to her so that she can feel my commitment and sincerity. A few more hundred years as a pixie is empty without my queen. Her smile falls and she looks at me gravely. I am apprehensive. Will she deny me even now?
“That’s giving up an awful lot, Shavish. You would give up your magic for an uncertain future in the human world with me?”
I twist one lock of her green hair around a finger and smile down at her. “It is a small sacrifice for what I would have gained.”
“We’ve barely been together more than a handful of days. How can you be so certain?”
“It is the nature of mating bonds with the fae. As soon as the bond was formed, I couldn’t help but love you and only you. Without you, we would grieve your absence for the rest of our long, lonely days.”
I sit up, releasing her, as I turn to scoop back up the bluebell. I carefully strip away the splintering part of the end with my claws so she doesn’t cut her delicate hands that I press the bloom into. She stares down at it, her expression softening.
“How did you know that bluebells—well, a bluebell in this case—is my favorite?”
I chuckle reluctantly. “I would like to take the credit of claiming that I know through the bond, but unfortunately it does not work that way. I asked Fini—a steep price I was more than willing to pay for a chance at winning my queen.”
Orenda laughs softly, her fingertips caressing the edges of the petal. Her eyelashes drop and her smile falters as she sucks in her bottom lip. She looks up at me, her green eyes focusing on me, and through the open bond I can feel a swell of affection as well as her fear and uncertainty clouding the happiness that tastes so sweet to me.
“Can I take a little time to think about it?”
I swallow, disappointed but I try to understand. She is not fae. She doesn’t possess the same knowledge and certainty that we do. She is not pixie. I smile warmly and nod. I begin to close down the bond, but her hand grips my forearm.
“Don’t close it, please.”
I glance at her in surprise.
Her lips quiver as they quirk up. “I want to know you and for all of you to know me. I’ve never had anyone care enough to know me. I want this… and I need to know what I’ll be committing to while I make my decision.”
I incline my head. It will hurt my hive if they all become as attached and she decides to leave, but it is likely they will make the same decision as I, should that happen. Leaning down, I caress her lips with mine, her lips tasting as sweet as fresh nectar. I settle beside her on the moss, curling my body around hers to keep her warm as we watch the nightblooms shift in the wind, swaying in their dance until her eyes become heavy and she finally passes into slumber.
Smiling down at her, I stroke my hand over her cheek. Orenda smiles in her sleep and nuzzles into my hand, her hand clutching her flower tighter. My heart warms with my eternal fires, and I pull her into my arms and stand. Adjusting my grip so that she is securely clasped to my body, I spread my wings and drop from the tree to speed back to the nest.
I ignore the eager hum of my hive when I drop down to floor level to dart down the corridor to Dazi’s study. When I enter, the male looks up at me from his scrolls, his eyes brightening as his gaze lands on our queen. His lips curve fondly as he moves to the small bed and pulls back the blankets so that I can set her gently upon the cot before drawing the heavy silk over her. I can feel the weight of his questioning eyes on me.
“You have opened the bond to her.”
“I have,” I agree, needlessly.
“She is staying then?” he asks, as he leans down to remove the blue flower from her hand and places it in a vessel of water beside the cot.
“She is considering it. She asked me to not close her out,” I admit. I take a deep breath and look over at him. “If she decides not to stay, I am going with her.”
He starts, looking up at me in surprise. “You would leave the hive for her?”
“It would pain me, but I cannot endure a lifespan without her.”
He nods slowly. “I never would have guessed such a decision to come from you, but Orel and I have been discussing the same thing.”
My heart constricts both with joy and pain. Joy that I would have my hive brothers with me, but pain that I might lose my nestling brother, leaving him alone and hiveless should he refuse to join us. Dazi touches my arm.
“Do not underestimate your brother’s love for his zaabi. I think he will surprise you.”
My lips quirk as the sadness recedes from my being. “Are you psychic now, Dazi?”
He chuckles as he follows me out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind us. “No, but I have grown up with both of you and shared a hive bond with you for many of those years. It is enough to know how my hive brothers may think,” he teases.
I nod slowly. “Is it selfish to say that I hope that she chooses to stay?”
“If it is, then I am selfish as well… but I suspect that much of her life has hurt her in the world that she lived in before. I want her to be happy.”
I nod in agreement as I wrap one arm around Dazi and we leave our queen to her rest.
14
Orenda
I sit back and look approvingly as Fini and I finish putting the final touches on the gown I designed. The layered silk is pulled up in a series of tight ruffles over the bodice that ends just below the breast into an empire waistline. Dripping from the center seam are several strings of ornate glass beads, pixie crafted with shimmering go
lden dust caught within each bead. I finger a bead and raise my eyebrow at her.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Fini giggles mischievously. “The trolls love pixie dust but, above all, they especially value the gold dust,” she says with a wink.
“Uh-huh… and do they know what it is? Never mind. Don’t answer that. What I really want to know is: how do you collect it? Or do you have a line of males volunteering to help out?” I tease as I lean forward expectantly.
Fini waves her hand to silence me, her face screwed up as she tries not to laugh. “Shh, don’t say such a thing. My mates will come rushing in here and disrupt our work.” She snickers. “No. Actually, I hired some of the younger hives to scrape the leaves by the lily pond following the night of Amheina, and again during Ehano.” She sighs and plays with a tiny gemstone pendant at the base of her throat. “I do so love the festivals. They are important nights for the unmated, but the mated have a great time recapturing the magic so to speak. The mating heat is glorious, and such a wonderful way to honor the mistress of the stars.”
I clear my throat, my cheeks heating at the memory of the mating heat, as I redirect the conversation back to the captured dust.
“And they agree… to scrape dry jizz?”
Her eyebrows go up at the unfamiliar term, but it is obvious that she understands what I am referring to because this time she bursts into laughter. “They are reluctant, but I give each of them a small portion of my best fermented nectar in payment. They are quite appreciative,” she says with a smirk. “I then take it to the glassworker. She keeps a portion for her own work, but the rest she makes into these lovely beads for me.”
Letting the beast rest once more against the bodice, I give the dress one last critical passing. Working with the measurements of the troll queen converted into pixie scale, I think we’ve produced a masterpiece. It’s a brilliant shade of pink, a very bold color choice with softer hues accenting it at my suggestion to dial back the overwhelming color into something a bit more delicate. Apparently, the troll queen loves pink—who’d have thought?
“Well,” I say at last. “I can’t think of anything else to add to this.”
Fluttering her wings, Fini nods and sails across the room to gather a flat wooden box. She winks at me as she passes me and sets the box on the floor.
“It just needs one final magic touch from the both of us,” she murmurs.
I balk and shift uncomfortably. “That’s sweet, Fini, but you go ahead. I don’t have any magic.”
“Nonsense. You created this. I doubt it could have turned out so well without some kind of magic within your soul. You brought it out to help me, and now it needs your final signature. You don’t create any pixie dust yourself, so take some of mine.”
She brushes some of the dust from her wing and sprinkles it in my hand. I focus on that dust and feel its magic nudge me. I open up to it and it floods into me, washing through me like a river before pulling away again. The dust in my hand glows vibrantly a brilliant coppery color before settling back down, the metallic dust glinting in the light of the room.”
Fini nods with a smug smile and holds up her own small handful of purple dust. “Okay, now we dust it. Hold your hand out beside mine and I will fan the dust with my wings.”
I do as instructed, and with the first burst of air from her wings the two streams of dust pick up from our hands, twining through the air until it rises above the dress and drops down like a veil over it until it fades leaving, only the slightest shimmer of purple and copper against the pink when the light hits it.
“There. Now every pixie will know that this dress was crafted with our combined magic,” she says, hugging me close to her side before releasing me.
With careful hands, she removes the dress and lays it within the box, wrapped in a layer of silk. “Right on schedule too. Come, Orenda, we will take it to the gathering room where it will be stored until we go to present it ourselves to the troll queen. It will be such an exciting trip. I am so glad we have done this together,” she thrills. “Imagine all the fine things we can make together!”
I follow her out of the workroom, imagining how it would be. Sure, there are still deadlines, but with Fini I have the opportunity to work with magic in my creations. I’m living my dream, and I have people who genuinely love me and that I love in return.
Sure, Shavish can be a bit overbearing, but over the last several days since he has been so attentive when not bordering overprotective. Gwin has ceased calling me zaabi, preferring now to call me zini due to what he calls my adorably tiny size. What’s more, the connection between me and my hive has deepened through the bond noticeably. Feeling all of them on the edges of my mind is so comfortable that I never feel alone and feel genuine love for each of them already. I can feel their commitment and know that what Shavish said is true. They would follow me into the human world.
Do I want them to give that up? Do I want to give up the only real magic I’ve experienced and everything here that makes us happy and fulfilled? I shake my head, already knowing the answer to that as I allow Fini to transport us up to her balcony. There, a courier sparrow waits, his wings fluffing impatiently.
The first time I went to gather supplies with Fini, the entire concept of a courier sparrow used to cart supplies had blown me away. The fact that she’s also using it to transport me still entertains me. Orel wasn’t been happy the first time but after Fini jumped all over him when he thought to argue against it when he caught sight of me on the bird during one of his patrol passes, he hasn’t done more than grumble. Truthfully, it’s a practical way for me to get around even if I do feel like I’m the breathing equivalent of a skein of silk strapped in place.
Fini pulls the straps tight around me and hands me the box around which she secures another strap, anchoring it to me. The feathers are warm beneath my legs. For the first time, I’m wearing the lightweight silk dress of a pixie, and though I feel a bit self-conscious—I swear I can see a dark outline of my nipples but Fini swears they’re the least bit visible—it makes me experience everything around me much more immediately than my threadbare clothes that I’ve been clinging to and rewashing for weeks now. Fini pats my leg and grins at me as she flutters at my side.
“All secure?”
I wiggle to test the straps and give her a thumbs up. With a nod, she wings out ahead and the sparrow hops up from the nest taking flight with his rapid wing beats. As always, the snap of the bird’s movement is a bit of a roller coaster, but it’s thrilling as we fly across the colony to the area designated for the gathering comprised of the weavers and seamstresses.
Several females glance up at our arrival, but it’s not our first time there and so we barely attract more than the briefest of attention, although a couple of females smile in amusement at where I’m strapped like cargo to the sparrow. There is nothing malicious about it, so I don’t let it bother me. Instead, I give everyone a friendly wave and they giggle and wave in response before going back to their tasks. Everyone is hard at work doing last-minute preparations before the trek to the troll palace.
Fini unstraps me and gives me a cheerful grin. “Let’s go show off our dress. I am certain it will be chosen by the gathering collective to be included.” She takes the box from me and helps me down before sending the bird off on its way. I stare after it, concerned, until she laughs and loops her arm with mine. “Do not worry. Aster is going to locate one of your hive and have him arrive after a while to fetch you. There is no sense in keeping the sparrow waiting when we are going to be here for a time still.”
“Makes sense,” I agree as I accompany her down a labyrinth of paths twisting through this inner sector of the colony.
When we at last arrive at the gathering room, a female the pale pink of cherry blossoms approaches us, her brows knit together. Her eyes barely skim over me before addressing the pixie beside me.
“Fini, I did not think you were entering a creation this year.”
“Gree
tings, Anali. I am not,” Fini says. “I helped Orenda with her creation.” Gaping, I stare at my friend and she grins down at me. “I cannot take the credit for this. I may have helped you, but this dress is a part of you. You deserve to enter it. I have a talent for silks and organization, but you have the magic of the craft. It is an honor to be your assistant.”
Flushing, I face the pixie in charge who is now staring at me in confusion as if seeing me for the first time. “I do not know you,” she says coolly. “You are certainly not a pixie.”
I bristle slightly. Obviously, this female is harder to impress. Okay, fine by me. “I am not,” I agree. “I think that much is obvious since I’m not fluttering around like a monarch butterfly. I am, however, a female of the craft by trade and a queen of my own hive in this colony. I think that gives me a pass.”
Anali freezes, her lips pinching together. I wonder if she’s just going to throw me out on my ear just for the hell out of it due to my mouth when Fini starts giggling. The other pixie’s face suddenly crumbles into an expression of mirth as she shakes with laughter. I stare at them.
That was totally not the reaction I was expecting.
Anali gently takes my box from me and grins widely.
“Very well, Orenda, let us take a look now at your dress,” she says as she carries it over to one of several tables nearby. Laying the box down, she opens the cover and stares into it. Her face is absolutely blank, and I exchange a nervous glance with Fini. With a swipe of her hand, the dress lifts into the air and she circles it, humming to herself thoughtfully. Within short order, the dress is returned, and she gently closes the lid once more. Anali quietly picks the box back up and I am afraid she’s going to hand it back with her apologies. Instead, she smiles and walks to a table at the far end and sets it with a small pile.
Fini grabs my hand excitedly. “We did it! Your dress was chosen for selection!”
I’m sure I look like a fool because I stand there with my jaw dropped in surprise for several minutes before Anali returns and chuckles as she walks with us to the exit.
Blooming Desire Page 35
