High Fae Academy - Year Three: Paranormal Fae Romance

by Kaylin Peyerk

  “Thank you, Ronnie, I'll catch up with you later,” says Orin.

  The man nods once more before turning on his heel and ambling toward the kitchen. The other who looks like a mini-me of the first gestures for us to follow him forward. We do so and eventually come upon a circular booth in the back of the room, furthest away from the door. Rowan allows me to scoot in first while Orin comes in on the other side. I try not to get miffed at the fact that they're once again doing their best to protect me by keeping me between them. Territorial fae bastards. That seems to be a phrase I use a lot one around these males.

  The mini-me comes back with a tray full of sloshing drinks. He slides one to me first and then the others toward Rowan and Orin. When I take a swig of the strange drink, an acrid taste stains my tongue and I cringe. Rowan laughs at my reaction before slamming almost an entire cup himself.

  “Yuck! How can you drink this stuff? It's way worse than the fairy wine I had last month.”

  He laughs. “Fairy wine, huh? You're a lightweight!”

  “I am not! And even if I was, so what? I'm a woman—I'm not supposed to be drinking like a sailor.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Would you make up your mind already? Do you want to be a strong woman deserving of the title of queen? Or a meek one who can't hold her liquor and needs protection?”

  I cross my arms. “I didn't know that I needed to choose.”

  Orin hides his smile behind one hand. “Women are fickle creatures.”

  I force myself to slam the rest of my mead in two huge gulps. “You're damn right.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Several stubborn cups of mead later and I'm stumbling up the staircase with the help of Rowan. Although, it seems that we all had too much to drink and are giggling hysterically for no reason. The way that fae booze gets you drunk is much different than human booze. When I got drunk on human booze my body would slowly fade away, and my mind would get woozy. Fae booze isn't like that at all. My senses seemed to sharpen, and my brain works in overdrive thinking a thousand miles per minute. It makes everything clear, and a little outstanding at the same time. This feeling leaves me bold and kind of reckless. As if I could do anything right now and never regret any of it.

  That's what's dangerous.

  Orin waves toward our room as he stumbles past us down the hall. He shouts something incoherent before slamming his own door behind him, effectively sealing us out. I glance at Rowan and laugh, a smile stretching my features. He returns the gesture.

  “I adore you when you smile,” he says.

  I open the door and push at his chest as I stumble past. “Now don't say that. We were having such a great time.”

  “What does that mean? I can't compliment your smile?”

  I flop onto the bed spread eagle. No, he can't compliment my smile because it leads to me thinking about his smile. And then his broad shoulders and chiseled chest, which leaves my face feeling hot. No, he cannot do any of those things that make me think about him because it leads to actions that I don't want to be held accountable for. Especially now that my brain is so sharp and jumbled at the same time due to the stupid fae booze.

  “Just stop talking,” I groan.

  He crawls up onto the bed beside me, lying on his side and holding his head up with one hand. My eyes stray to his grinning face, then back to the ceiling again. I don't believe he knows the meaning of personal space at this moment. Now all I can think about is the way his lips felt on mine a few nights ago and the way his skin felt under my fingertips. And if I'm being honest, how I desperately want to feel all of it again.

  “Then why don't you?” he whispers.

  “Stop tempting me when I have no conscience.”

  “Isn't that the best time to tempt someone?”

  “Now you're just being crude.”

  He brings two fingers up to my chin and turns it to face him. Our eyes lock and his burn with the same golden magic I had seen on the first night he came back to me. It's breathtaking, and I force myself to stay put instead of leaning in to get a better look. While Lucien and I had a chemistry that was undeniable when we came together, Rowan and I have one that ignites with a simple look. I'm not so sure that it's a good thing.

  “We need to stop doing this,” I whisper.

  “Why?” he pleads. “Just tell me why. I pine for you, Tiana. In a way that makes me feel hopeless, like a moth to a flame. You are all-consuming to me and if you don't feel the same I'll need you to be the one to pull away. I don't think I have the strength.”

  “Oh,” is all I say.

  We stare at each other for several more minutes, tension building in the silence that stretches between us. Maybe just one kiss will satiate me. One embrace. One touch. Rowan allows his hand to run down the side of my body, settling on my hip, pulling me in. Our lips hover centimeters apart, swollen with want.

  “Is that what you'll say fifty years from now? Just one kiss? Only one embrace?” he murmurs before crushing his mouth on mine.

  Our bodies move in unison as we wrap our arms around each other. This is what fire feels like. This is something I have always dreamed of. My hands roam into his ebony hair, gliding over the smooth locks. He moans in the back of his throat and I arch my chest into him. Taking this as a sign that I am giving in, hands roam around my body. Desire heats my skin and I wrap my free leg around his waist.

  Is this really what you want? my mind seems to whisper. Yes, it is! the alcohol driven desire screams. Well is it really just the alcohol? Would I be kidding myself if I said that? Probably. I've thought in the past that I know exactly who I'll choose. But that has always seemed to come on in situations like these with both the men. A moment of vulnerability, of sweet weakness.

  I believe that's when a person is most honest with themselves.

  Rowan pulls my shirt over my head and I let him, following his lead. Our mouths move against each other as I fumble with his belt before pulling his trousers down. I end up straddling him with my hands splayed across his bare chest. We pull apart to look into each other's eyes, our breathing coming hard and fast.

  “Is this really what you want?” he breathes, echoing my thoughts.

  “Stop asking me that,” I reply before leaning into him again.

  He strips me bare. Not only is my body naked for him to see, but so is my soul. We are standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering one way and the other, just waiting for the wind to push us to either side. I know that Rowan is ready for this step and that he has been for a long time. It comes down to my decision. Do I want this? Am I ready to commit my soul to another person for all of eternity?

  Yes.

  ***

  The next morning, I wake with a raging headache. My memories are hazy at best, completely blacked out at worst. The last thing I remember is kissing Rowan. Did we do anything further than that last night? I turn my head to glance, and he appears to be sleeping peacefully. Although all his clothes are off and the only thing hiding his lower half from me is a thin sheet. My cheeks flame and I pull the comforter up to his chin to hide the evidence.

  Did we have sex for the first time last night and I can barely remember? That would be embarrassing and disappointing. There's nothing worse than a one-night stand. Well, maybe a one-night stand that you wake up next to knowing that you might have just mated with him without thinking about it. What was I thinking? You weren't, responds to my conscience.

  I swing my legs out of bed and touch my feet to the floor, breathing a sigh of relief when I see that my panties are still on. Perhaps one of us had the good sense to stop while we were ahead. I tiptoe toward the bathroom which I'm glad is separate from the bedchamber, unlike the last inn we stayed at.

  There's water already in the tub, but of course it's bone chilling. I stick one finger in and swirl it around while heating it with fire magic. Steam rises from the tub and I open the window to blow in fresh herbs and flower petals from the valley below. They land gracefully on the top of the water, infusing it with it
s scent.

  “You're really getting the hang of this,” Rowan says.

  I turn to him while crossing my arms over my chest. “Yeah, well, I've been watching many teachers over the past few months. And I've been told that I'm a quick learner.”

  My eyes travel down to the sheet he has wrapped around his waist and my cheeks flush red. I want to ask him what we did last night, but I'm also a little afraid to know the answer. If we had mated, I would know, right? I'd feel different. At least I think I would.

  “You would know,” he replies dryly. “We didn't even have sex last night. I wouldn't do that to you, not without your full consent.”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Ah, thank you.”

  “And you can stop covering your breasts, you know. I saw it all last night.”

  “That doesn't mean I want you to see it in broad daylight! Now stop teasing me and get in the bath. You stink,” I say as I breezed past him into the room.

  He chuckles, the previous serious mood seeming to have disappeared. Is he offended? I guess I would be if I have been accused of taking advantage of the person I love. Maybe I should apologize, scratch that, I should apologize. It was rash of me to think that he would force me, hurt me.

  “I'm sorry, “I shout to him from the bedroom.

  “It's okay, I forgive you.”

  “Just like that?” I ask.

  “The people you love deserve second chances.”

  His response sounds like something straight out of a Shakespearean play. Is it possible that he had encountered him? He sure is old enough. The thought makes me giggle. Rowan is so many things that I haven't even begun to understand. How can we be fated mates before I know all the little nitty gritty details of his past? And why have I never asked before?

  “Have you ever met someone named Shakespeare?”

  “No, what a random question.”

  “He was a famous poet and playwright in human history. He was often known for romanticizing his words.”

  “Is that what you believe I do?”

  “It's not what I believe you do, it's what you do. Half the things you say are riddles, and the other half are phrases I swear I've heard in books of poetry. It's both romantic and confusing.”

  He steps out of the bathroom to lean against the door jam. “You wanna know something else that's romantic?”

  I hold a pillow in front of my chest. “What?”

  “I used magic to clean the water for you so you can take a fresh bath.”

  “Oh, that’s true love.”

  ***

  Later that morning we meet Orin out at the stables to take our leave down the other side of the mountain. He looks just as miserable as we are, and he complains the entire time about how much mead he had drank the night before. Much to Rowan’s amusement.

  “I can't believe we're going to see your father, the king of the Fire Kingdom, hungover,” I say.

  The men chuckle, but don't respond as we swing up on to the horses and begin our descent. The way down the mountain is much more pleasant than the way up, and the temperature rises subtly. Once the fall-like trees come back into view my mood begins to brighten. Who knew that some sunshine and water can make me feel better? Well, not as much as that bath did earlier, I think, looking at Rowan’s strong back in front of me. Did he infuse it with something else? Spirit magic, perhaps?

  When that thought crosses my mind, he turns to wink at me, and I quickly look away. Ever since he became a real tangible person, I’ve forgotten that he can hear every single one of my thoughts. Embarrassment floods my chest, and I’m glad that he’s no longer looking to see the blood rushing up my face. All the things I’ve thought about him, and he hasn’t mentioned it. Do I have to be thinking at him for it to work, and is that a subconscious thing? Ugh, this is too complicated.

  “We only have a few miles to go, the city center isn’t far from the mountain.” Orin says into the silence.

  “What’s your father’s palace look like? Is it all gilded sandstone and marble like the Air Kingdom?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “No, Rai’s father has expensive taste, whereas mine is more practical. His style might even shock you.”

  “Shock me?”

  “Yes, it’s bold, but dark. Lots of blood red and bronze.”

  “Sounds inviting,” Rowan scoffs.

  Orin gives him a withering look. “It’s not meant to be. You have to realize that my father is a man of war. He’s been the leader on the front lines for thousands of years. If there’s anyone you'll have a hard time convincing to end it, it’s him.”

  We pull our horses up to trot side by side, thinking to ourselves. If he’s the main general of the light fae army then shouldn’t he have a unique perspective on how much death there’s been all around? Does he simply not care? If so, his bloodlust must be stronger than his conscience.

  You are quite judgmental. You haven’t even met the man.

  I roll my eyes, but don’t respond, instead, I turn to Orin. “All right, give us some pointers. What will win your father over, if not the promise of peace and prosperity?”

  He rubs the back of his neck. “To be honest he’s only going to answer to brute force.”

  Rowan laughs, a grin spreading across his lips. “What? So, we should beat the shit out of him?”

  I shove his shoulder. “Oh yeah, because that will help our cause.”

  You’re so thick headed sometimes.

  My apologies, my lady.

  Orin speaks, oblivious to our exchange. “You’re both right. While he might not want to have the shit beaten out of him, he might let you do it to someone else to prove yourselves.”

  “Beat up a helpless citizen? That seems harsh,” I worry, biting my lip.

  Orin gives me a look. “For someone so smart, you’re pretty dense. Fighting a citizen of the Fire Kingdom won’t prove anything, especially since ninety-nine percent of them are weaker than you.”

  We move out of the trees and onto a sprawling path made of deep red clay stones. Up ahead is an open sprawling city, no imposing wall to be seen. The fire king seems to be daring anyone to attack. For which I’m sure they won’t. The buildings surrounding the towering castle are short and made of the same red clay with wood hatchet roofs. Fae with similar coloring roam the streets, and glance at us as we pass. Their eyes hold interest until they slide to Orin, and they avert their eyes. Are the fire royals oppressive leaders? I shake myself out of that thought process to better focus on Orin’s words.

  “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just call me stupid and ask about the other one percent instead,” I grind out.

  “My brother and I,” he says simply, not looking at me.

  We ride up to a bronze gate that closes in the palace itself, but with no grandeur. It’s a simple message. Stay out unless you have an invitation from the king himself. Orin wasn’t wrong when he said that his father’s taste in decor is simple. Rowan helps me swing my injured left leg across my horse before lifting me down. Once I’m off I shove Orin’s chest, and he stumbles back in surprise.

  “You have a brother? Why didn’t you tell me?” I snap.

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “Damon said the same thing!” I rage.

  These men tell me nothing and expect me to willingly mate with them? It’s infuriating. Rowan lays one hand on the small of my back and rubs circles there, sending spirit energy up my spine. I step away from him and scowl. I’m not a woman that needs to be taken care of. I’m about to lay into Orin again when the gate swings open of its own accord, leaving the smell of crackling embers in its wake. A tall, lanky male steps around the corner, smiling brightly.

  “You messed up, brother. You’re lady isn’t happy,” he teases, and I notice that his voice is much deeper than Orin’s, and that he looks older.

  Older? I think to myself, almost sure that it can’t be right.

  It is. The fire kingdom is different than the others. The strongest son is the heir, not
the eldest. Orin is slightly stronger than his older brother, making him the rightful heir to the Fire Kingdom.

  Oh. That’s awkward.

  Not for fae. It is a fact, so it is the way.

  All right, Yoda.

  Who?

  Never mind.

  Orin’s brother steps forward to embrace him, and they grip each other tightly, conveying to me just how much love they share for one another. They’re almost identical, but Orin’s hair is close cropped, whereas his brother’s falls down his back in one long braid. I can see his age through his eyes, there’s a sort of tiredness there that shines out beyond the happiness at seeing his brother. He’s looking at me over Orin’s shoulder, almost curiously, showing me just how tall he really is in comparison to the already towering Orin. His gaze pulls me in, the same magnetic feeling that Orin used to convey when we first met. Rowan steps closer to my side, which breaks our eye contact. I look away, my cheeks flushing.

  Orin pulls away to turn toward us. “Tiana, this is my brother, Tegan.”

  Tegan grins, showing his brilliantly white teeth and unusually sharp canines, a full fae waiting to devour me. I almost float forward, and he takes my hand in his to lay a kiss on the back of it. This magnetism is familiar, and yet, different as if it has its own signature. His ice-blue eyes are striking, and I try forcing myself to stop feeling this way. Damn all of these fae males and their stupid human-seducing power. I’m just more susceptible to fae seduction due to my human blood. Yeah, that must be it.

  Yeah, I’m sure, Rowan says, jealous undertones clearly lining his words.

  I ignore him.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I say, none too evenly.

  He pulls me forward suddenly, and I put my hand on his chest to steady myself. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  Rowan steps up behind me, almost growling when he grasps my hips, pulling me back into his chest. The moment Rowan’s hands touch my skin the spell lifts, and my mind clears. Did he have me under some kind of seduction fire magic? Tegan doesn’t seem afraid and continues to make suggestive eye contact with me. Man, this guy won’t quit.