Oberon Academy Book Four: The Queen

by Wendi Wilson

  When I stepped out of the stall, clean and dried and dressed, I felt a lot better. Not perfect, but better.

  “Thanks, Shaela,” I said again, feeling so blessed to have a best friend like her.

  “Always,” she said. “I’ll always be here for you, D. Just like you were for me when I was going through everything with Grandfather. You never gave up, never turned your back on me. That’s what friends are for. And I will always have your back, even when you’re being a clinically depressed jerk who won’t get out of bed.”

  I chuckled, and she grinned back at me.

  My humor faded quickly as I stared at her, and the darkness closed back in. First, I’d lost Rowan. Then, Easton, quickly followed by Finn. What if I lost Shaela, too?

  The desire to head straight back to my bed crashed into me, but I forced it back. I couldn’t do that to Shaela, who was convinced she’d made real progress in making me better again. She would be devastated if I fell back into that dark place.

  So instead, I assured her I was okay and headed to the gym on my own, where I was sure my parents waited for me. My feet scuffed slowly across the floors of the hall, more from dread than actual physical weakness.

  Mom and Dad were going to try to get me back to my old self. And I didn’t know if I would ever be her again.

  CHAPTER 31

  “I thought we’d start with water. Something simple. Conjure a cloud, then make it rain.”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, but just barely. I didn’t see the point. We weren’t going to fight Sebille. And if she came to us, well, I doubted Alwyn would even let us join the skirmish. He seemed intent on making sure we were completely neutralized. No matter the cost.

  I made no move to follow Dad’s instructions. I just stood there, staring at the wooden slats on the gym floor.

  “December.”

  The disappointment in Mom’s soft voice cut me deep on a soul-slicing level. My shoulders curled inward as I wrapped my arms across my waist.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t,” I mumbled.

  “You can’t, or you won’t?” Dad asked, moving forward to stand in front of me.

  He grasped my chin with his fingers and lifted so I had no choice but to look into his eyes. They flickered from their Glamoured-blue color to black and back again. Both versions held the same emotion—worry.

  “I just don’t feel like it,” I said.

  I knew I was being a brat. They had suffered loss, too, yet they were completely focused on me and my mental well-being. They wanted me to really live. And though I was alive, what I was doing was not living.

  “You are strong enough to get past this,” Dad murmured, “but you have to want to. Not for me, or your mom, or Shaela, or even Easton. You have to want to do it for yourself.”

  I nodded and he released his grip on my chin. Mom came over to stand beside him, her diamond and sapphire engagement ring sparkling under the gymnasium lights. My gaze locked onto it, thinking about how happy she was when Dad gave it to her.

  And I’d snuffed that happiness out with one dark spiral into despair and hopelessness. She didn’t deserve to suffer for my misery. Neither did Dad.

  “Okay,” I whispered, then focused on my magic.

  Cooperating was the least I could do to make up for it.

  I called to water, picturing a large, fluffy white cloud forming above us. The humidity in the gym spiked as a mist rolled in, quickly thickening into the cloud I’d imagined.

  The cloud darkened as I pumped more magic into it, and within a few seconds, a light rain pattered down on us. It was cool and refreshing, and I turned my face up to fell the drops against my cheeks.

  When I looked back, I caught Mom’s smile and Dad’s dimples, both of their expressions filled with joy and pride. On pure instinct, I lunged forward and wrapped them both in a hug. I loved them so much, and I never wanted them to be disappointed in me again.

  As they laughed and hugged me back, a crack of thunder echoed around us and the light rain exploded into a torrential downpour. I barked out a laugh and pulled away from them, and the rain slowed to a light sprinkling.

  “Oops,” I said, smiling.

  I released the elemental magic, and the cloud above us dissipated. Mom waved an arm and a warm gust of wind twirled around us, drying the floor.

  I marveled at how light I felt. I was still sad and angry and worried over Easton, but I didn’t feel like I had no choice but to wallow in bed anymore. I felt…okay.

  And okay was way better than I was this morning.

  I watched Mom as she let go of the wind, her eyes shining brightly with the joy of using magic. I wondered if I look liked that when I used it. When she caught my gaze, I had a flashback to the attack, and the sorrow in her eyes when we talked about Puck’s part in it.

  “How are you doing?” I asked. “I’ve been so wrapped up in my own misery, I haven’t asked you that, have I? I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “It’s my job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

  “But…your dad…”

  She shook her head firmly and said, “I spent much of my life without him. I’m sad he’s gone, and I’m disappointed in his choices, but I am okay. I promise. I have you and Cris now, and you’re all need.”

  I realized I could learn a lot from her. She made the best of her situation, no matter what terrible things happened to her. She lost her true love, so she turned that love toward her unborn child. She lost that child, so she took a job helping childless humans and orphans find each other to form loving families.

  And in the end, she found us both again.

  “I need to go,” I said, holding up a hand when they both opened their mouths to argue. “I’m not going back to bed, I promise. I just have a lot to think about—some choices to make. Thank you for this. I love you both.”

  I darted from the gym and ran down the hall toward the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I kept going until I reached the top, only slowing when I entered the conservatory. The place seemed deserted, which was good. I wanted to be alone.

  I found the patch of grass near the stream where I’d picnicked with Easton, and plopped down onto my butt. The fragrance of flowers was heady, and I inhaled deeply, feeling a little more at peace.

  I thought about my life and the path I was currently on. I had my parents and Shaela by my side, and I knew they’d stand there no matter what. I could finish out my education and move on with my life.

  A life that didn’t include Easton. And no matter that I was only seventeen, I knew in my heart that I would never love again. No one would ever compare to him, and much like my parents, I would opt to live a life of solitude rather than settle for less.

  I could be a social worker, like Mom was, helping orphaned children find loving homes. And making sure they never end up like I did, with creepy drug addicts like the Holts. I could make a difference.

  But then I thought about the path I’d been on before Easton was kidnapped and Finn died. I was training to defeat Sebille. When and if that happened, I would be queen of the Zephyrs. I could squash everything she had put into motion and end the subjugation of the human race.

  With Easton as king of the Sylphs, we would work together to end the animosity between the two races of Fae. There would be peace and harmony and we’d all work together to heal the planet and help the humans create new sources of industry that wouldn’t put them right back where they started.

  Talk about making a difference…

  I hopped to my feet and watched as a leaf meandered on the slow current of the stream. Did I want to be like that leaf? Following where life took me and just accepting things as they were? Like I had no choices?

  Or did I want to put myself on my own path? Fight for what I believed in and grab hold of the future I wanted?

  I barked out a short laugh at my internal debate. It was a total no-brainer.

  I wanted a life worth living.

  I wanted to make my own choice
s, guide my own actions, and deliver my own results.

  I wanted Easton.

  I left the conservatory feeling lighter than I’d felt in a really long time. I would no longer flounder, accepting the decisions of those around me who didn’t have my best interests, or those of anyone else for that matter, at heart.

  Me, Shaela, my parents, Charles…we were all smart, talented Fae, and I knew if we put our heads together we could come up with plan that would keep everyone safe.

  I set off to find them all and let them know—Operation Rescue Easton was back on. No matter what.

  CHAPTER 32

  “But what about Alwyn’s threats against Freya?”

  Shaela posed the question after I’d gathered them all up in my parents’ room and told them I wanted to go ahead with the plan. That, and sneaking out of the academy without the king’s knowledge were the two main points I hadn’t figured out.

  Dad had placed another privacy spell over us, just in case Tiana was lurking around, looking or information to pass along to Alwyn. I didn’t even want to think about how he rewarded her for her spy skills.

  Gross.

  “I’m sure we can come up with something if we put our heads together,” I said. “There has to be a way.”

  “Well, the threat of your magical vengeance stopped him before,” Shaela smirked.

  I smiled back, thinking of Alwyn wetting himself when I’d shown him a powerful display. Then my smile fell.

  “I don’t think that’ll work. He’s let his new title and power go to his head. He thinks he’s invincible, sitting on his throne with the council firmly in his corner. I could threaten him all I want and he’d still hurt her to spite me. By the time we return, it could be too late.”

  “We could kill him,” Charles suggested.

  His face was devoid of emotion, like he was stating a simple fact. I shook my head.

  “If we kill him without justification, we’ll be executed. Or sent to that Fae reformatory place.”

  “Oh, I think we’d be justified,” Shaela added, her eyes flashing.

  “No one is killing the king,” Dad interjected, ending the debate. “December is right. Our dislike of him and his actions is not a defensible motive for murder. Someone would have to do something really terrible, something that threatened the population as a whole for the council to condone the murder of any Sylph, much less the king.”

  “Then what can we do?” Mom asked the room at large.

  The door swung inward, revealing a very fierce-looking Freya. Her blonde hair was neatly braided, her clothes clean, and the dark circles under her silver eyes were nearly gone.

  “You can stop worrying about me, and go get my son back,” she said, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

  “How did she—”

  “How did I overhear your conversation through your privacy screen?” she asked, cutting Charles off. “I am the daughter of Finn Oberon and the mother of the true king. Oberon blood runs through my veins, as does the power. I am stronger than you think.”

  The silence was deafening as we all stared at her in awe. Gone was the frail woman we’d all perceived her to be, cowering in the shadow of her overbearing husband. Before us was a powerful Sylph royal, her eyes flashing with intensity.

  “But…” I started but couldn’t finish.

  I didn’t know what to say. A small smile graced her lips as she moved further into the room.

  “I have held many feelings for my husband over the years, but fear for myself has never been among them. Despite what he would have everyone believe, he has never harmed me.”

  “But Easton said…and you’re so…” I stuttered out.

  “Timid? Fragile? Defeated? Only one of those is true. I was defeated, but not for the reasons you think. I will tell you everything, but you must know, everything I did was for my son and the Sylph community.”

  We all nodded and got comfortable. Shaela, Charles, and I took seats on the floor and let the adults take the chairs. A touch of frustration sparked through me, urging me to demand we put this conversation off and get back to planning our rescue of Easton. I brushed it off, though. I had a strong feeling this story was going to have an impact on me, as well as our entire plan.

  “When I first met Alwyn Jameson, I was young and a bit silly, and he was the most handsome Sylph I’d ever seen. I thought it was love at first sight,” Freya said.

  As much as I hated to admit it, I could see how she’d believe that. Easton was pretty much a clone of his father. And hadn’t I felt a spark the moment I laid eyes on him?

  “He courted me in high fashion,” she continued, “bringing me flowers and trinkets, spewing pretty words that made my heart flutter. I was a fool in love, so when he proposed, I did not hesitate to accept. My father warned me that it was too soon. I should have listened.”

  “Finn didn’t approve?” Mom asked.

  Freya’s bitter laugh echoed around us before she answered, “It’s ridiculous, right? My father could taste emotions and sort out people’s true feelings and motives, yet I decided to ignore him. I convinced myself he was just being overprotective and, like any father, didn’t want to let his daughter go.”

  “What happened after you were married?” Dad asked, nudging Freya to continue her story.

  “Alwyn continued to be a loving mate. Any negative feelings or darker impulses were buried deep under his charming façade, and any small clues I may have noticed about his true nature were attributed to him simply having a bad day. And then, Easton was born.”

  Freya’s eyes darted to me, and she smiled as the fond memory brought tears to her eyes.

  “He was the most beautiful baby. And so calm. The only time he ever cried was when Alwyn tried to hold him.”

  “Smart baby,” Shaela muttered.

  “I didn’t realize it at the time, but Alwyn hated Easton the moment he drew first breath. He saw him as competition, both for my attention and his eventual claim to the throne. Easton’s obvious distrust of him, even as an infant, only served to fan the flames of Alwyn’s hatred.”

  “But he was just a baby,” Mom gasped, horror written all over her face.

  Dad reached over and squeezed her shoulder. My mother thought I’d died at birth, and she’d been devastated. So it made sense that someone, anyone hating their own child would sicken her.

  Freya nodded, saying, “And perhaps, if Alwyn had felt even a spark of affection for me, things would have been different.”

  Her eyes glassed over as she stared at the floor, lost in thought. We all sat in silence, letting her grieve for the loss of her youthful exuberance and her dreams for a happy family. She blinked and looked back up, a sad smile pinching her lips.

  “It quickly became obvious that he did not love me and never had. He obsessed over the state of the kingdom, as he liked to say, and all the mistakes my father was making on a daily basis. I defended Father, of course, and Alwyn always backed down…until he didn’t.”

  “What happened?” I asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

  “He threatened to kill our baby.”

  The room erupted into chaos, shocked gasps and shouts of denial filling the space. Freya waited until we’d calmed ourselves before continuing with her story.

  “One evening when Easton was about four years old, Alwyn came home ranting about some executive decision my father had made that he disagreed with. I stupidly tried to point out the practicality of Father’s choice, and Alwyn lost his temper, as usual.

  “But that time was different. He decided to end the façade. With hatred in his eyes and malice in his words, he made his real feelings known. He never loved me. He never even liked me. He only married me for a chance to rule the kingdom through me. That’s when he threatened Easton.”

  She paused for a moment, blinking out a few tears as she sniffed delicately.

  “I’ll never forget what he said,” she said, then quoted Alwyn’s words. “The only things standing between me and t
he throne are that boy and Finn Oberon. I would be better off if they were both dead.”

  “What did you do?” I asked, horror racing through me at the implications.

  “I did what any mother would do…I protected my son.”

  “How?” Shaela asked when Freya didn’t continue.

  “I sent him away,” Freya answered, her face twisting with grief. “Then I abdicated so Alwyn could never rule through me. I knew that once my father retired or passed on, and I became queen, Alwyn would kill me and Easton to keep his power. So I took myself out of the running and, effectively, my husband as well. He was not happy.

  “But Easton was safe with my father and that’s what really mattered. Then I Glamoured Alwyn to think it was his idea to send our son away. His mind and his power are much weaker than mine, so it was easy to fool him.” Her lips turned up into a smirk for a moment before dropping. “I stayed away from my son to protect him. I let Alwyn believe he was in control, even cowered in his presence, to give him the satisfaction and sense of power he craved so he would leave Easton alone.”

  “Excuse me, Freya,” Charles interjected, “but why couldn’t you just Glamour him to not hurt Easton?”

  “Oh, I did for a short while. But it wouldn’t work, long-term. Alwyn’s hatred ran too deep. His true feelings kept pushing through the magic, and it got to the point where I was living in constant fear that he’d break free of the Glamour when I wasn’t around and hurt Easton.”

  “And you took that hatred all on yourself. Easton told me about the degrading punishments Alwyn liked to dole out,” I added.

  “Actually, those things never happened,” she said, her voice sad. “But I had to Glamour Alwyn to believe they had, so that his irrational ire would be satisfied. So he wouldn’t turn his malicious intentions on our child. It broke my heart when Easton was old enough to understand, and Alwyn rubbed my punishments in his face. Though I was never there to see it, I was sure Easton was disgusted with me.”