High Fae Academy - Year Three: Paranormal Fae Romance

by Kaylin Peyerk

  It’s a trait very few fire fae possess.

  So it is seduction magic?

  More or less.

  Can you use it?

  Yes, do you want me too? he teases.

  Orin steps between us with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, brother, but she’s taken. Your womanizing ways won’t work on her.”

  Tegan looks away. “What a shame. Come with me, father is waiting.”

  And he moves ahead, just like that, leaving me behind. Maybe there was a reason Orin didn’t mention him. He’s a predator of sorts, using his magic on others without consent. The thought makes my skin crawl, and I’m suddenly glad that he isn’t in line to be the next fire king.

  That magic is one of the three most controversial traits of the fae. The spirit fae can control minds, and the fire fae can control emotions.

  And what’s the third?

  It is the most rare of the three, but some dark fae have the ability to manipulate time and space.

  Shock flows through me at the notion and I look at him, but he doesn’t return my gaze. Can Octavius control time and space? What does that even imply? Is he a living time machine? Can he create illusions? My stomach drops. Yes, he can. He did it for the man in the in-between, right in front of me. Giving him options and showing him what those will result in. He’s not only a true light fae, but one that has access to both the future and the past. Should I tell Rowan? Does he already know?

  We follow Tegan into the castle, and as the doors close behind us, darkness falls. Fire lamps light as Tegan walks past them, revealing shining obsidian walls dripping with gold.

  “Rowan—” He turns his head toward me, looking expectant. “—I have to tell you . . .” Trumpets cut off my words, forcing me to face forward.

  The two massive doors grind open revealing a dimly lit, yet impressive throne room. The only light comes from torches lining the bottom of the dais, but the flames are much larger than that of normal ones and dance with reds, golds, and blues. It leaves the king shrouded in mystery and fiery dominance. This is the first time that I’ve actually been afraid of an authority figure. King Odysseus might actually live up to his title as the earth king did.

  Tegan steps forward. “Enter, our beloved heir, Orin Ignis and guests.”

  The cliques standing on the edges of the room bow while murmuring to each other. It’s a much drier welcome than we had received from the Air Kingdom. For the first time, Orin squares his shoulders and steps in front of his brother, a cape of fire unfurling from his shoulders to caress the obsidian floor. It sparks as he walks, and the nobles watch him through hooded eyes, clearly impressed by the display of power. My own interest is piqued as we follow at a respectful distance toward the dais. Rowan smirks knowingly at me, and I look away.

  So what if I admired a male who knows his way around a flame?

  I’ll show you how much expertise I have over every element, not just fire.

  Do you ever stop building your own ego?

  I say these things to get a rise out of you. It’s not my fault you're so sensitive.

  Don’t make me kick your ass!

  I’d like to see you try. Pretty please?

  Orin kneels in front of the king, and I go to follow suit, but Rowan grabs my arm. When I glance at him he’s shaking his head subtly, indicating that we are not beneath the king of fire. When I look back at the king his eyes are still shrouded by his wine-red cloak. Is he staring back at me? Unease swirls in my stomach. I’m not sure blatantly testing the struggle of power was the best thing to do when first walking in.

  “Rise,” the king booms to his son.

  Orin does so while slamming his fire staff into the floor, showering sparks through the air. The nobles gasp in awe and delight at the show. I watch the king carefully, trying to determine what his mood is, but without seeing his face it’s near impossible. The silence is damning enough. He’s probably trying to figure out a way to do away with us. I shift from foot to foot, and Rowan places his hand on the small of my back to give me calming spirit energy.

  “Come closer, young one,” he says, his deep timber bone-chillingly calm.

  I step forward to the bottom of the dais next to Orin. He doesn’t acknowledge me, so I stare straight ahead as well. If anyone knows how to handle this situation it’s him. But his rigid nature increases my anxiety. Out of all the masters, Orin is the most carefree, the most laidback. Seeing him like this sends chills down my spine about what the Fire Kingdom teaches their soldiers.

  The king stands and throws back his hood in one fluid motion, catching me by surprise. When I look at his unveiled face, horror fills me. Fae are supposed to be beautiful and otherworldly in nature. This man may have been at one time, but he certainly isn’t now. His hair is bright white and streaked with red, creating the illusion that he’s on fire. Scars litter his features, crisscrossing in every direction across his cheeks and forehead. One eye is missing, and the socket is covered with a bronze plate carved with what I assume to be the royal insignia. A flaming phoenix.

  “I would say that it’s an honor to meet you, but I would be lying, and fire fae don’t lie. What is your business here?”

  It seems that I have two options in front of me. I can be submissive in nature or go toe-to-toe with the fire king. According to what Orin said on the way here, going against him with power will be the sure way to impress him, but at the same time, it terrifies me. Rowan is better at this part than I am. At this moment his words echo in my head, being king isn’t about making friends. I square my shoulders and lift my chin, directing my full attention to the king.

  “You know what my business is. Do not play games. You may not lie, but you can deceive and trick. I will not have it. Two of your brothers have pledged their allegiance to me, and you will be no different. For the earth king, I saved his son, and for the air king, I defeated the Nemean lion. What impossible task will you ask of me?”

  He smirks. “You are just as fiery as my delinquent son. No wonder he still brought you here without my permission.”

  I know his words are meant to knock me off my feet, but I don't move or look to Orin. He didn’t mention that his father had refused our arrival, probably because he knew that Rowan and I would come either way. The fire king must know that as well. I match his smirk with one of my own as Rowan steps up to my side, his golden crown shining against the blood red tunic he wore for the occasion. Hell, he appears to be the fire king. Odysseus narrows his eyes at Rowan until recognition crosses his features.

  “Are you truly King Rowan, resurrected?” he asks.

  “I am, so answer my queen’s question,” Rowan replies.

  “You are both insufferable. Come to my study.” He pauses, turning to the crowd that had gathered behind us. “This gathering is over; you are dismissed.”

  The nobles scatter toward various exits without complaint or sound. The complete and utter devotion baffles me. Or is it fear? The king unpins his cloak and lays it across his throne before moving off the dais. The clothing underneath is made of tough leather and bronze, an armor of sorts. Had he just come from the war front? If so, that could explain how irritated he seems to be.

  “Follow me,” he says gruffly, passing us on his way to a side corridor.

  Tegan follows after his father, and Orin gives me a thumbs up with his usual happy-go-lucky grin before doing the same. Rowan holds out his arm for me, and I latch on, leaning my left side against him heavily. My injuries have been aggravated from the trip. Adrian had suggested that we take a few days off for me to heal before heading out to the fire kingdom. I refused, and now I’m regretting it.

  I’d say I told you so but . . .

  It wouldn’t score you any points, I snap at him.

  The king stops in front of a grand wooden door with no visible handle. He traces symbols of fire across its already-burnt surface and it swings open with a creak. We follow him inside, and he snaps his fingers to light the torches around the room. The light reveals a sleek, oval table
with twelve marble chairs around it. On the far side of the room stands a large, ebony desk with a high-back chair neatly pushed into it, despite the mess of papers across its surface. This must be the king’s private study and war room all wrapped into one. I’m not surprised.

  He takes a seat at the head of the table and we surround him in the chairs closest. His good eye locks onto me, and the power of one thousand fires blazes there. I have to force myself to hold in the flinch that wants to surface. He is the most intimidating person I’ve ever met. While I surround myself with powerful males, they’re hellbent on doing anything to protect me. I feel no fear when looking into their eyes, only warmth.

  “You are strange. No one power is prominent in you, it seems you are nothing but an echo of your spouse's power. Who was your fae parent?”

  The tips of my ears turn red. “I don’t know. I never met or learned anything about my mother other than that she was a prominent spirit fae.”

  “Hm.” He leans back in his chair, that calculating look still on his face.

  Orin leans in. “Father, I believe . . .”

  “Silence. I did not ask for your opinion.”

  Tegan smirks. “Father, what will you do with them?”

  Odysseus watches me for several more moments, tapping his chin. “I do not wish to relinquish my rule.”

  “It is not up to you,” Rowan states flatly, almost as if he’s bored.

  “You will still rule the Fire Kingdom as you see fit,” I say, “but the good of all fae will rest in our hands. We will be the larger governing body that makes decisions about war, trade, and other large topics after taking the advice of the territory kings. My goal is to establish peace with the dark fae and then create open links between our kingdoms as Mother Earth intended.”

  “And who are you to know what Mother Earth intended?” he challenges.

  “She is simply conveying what I’ve told her,” Rowan says. “Do not belittle her due to her age. Now stop babbling and name your price, old man.”

  The king’s face goes red with rage, and Orin closes his eyes in dismay at Rowan’s outburst. Again, his snarky mouth will cause us problem after problem. Before he can say anything, I stand up and slam my palms against the table.

  “What will it take? Want to see the chemical burns I have on the left side of my body after voluntarily going down the Nemean’s throat to defeat it? The scars I have from defeating the wendigos in the Earth Kingdom? Or perhaps the giant scar across my chest from the fire wolf guardians of the dark fae vault? I can go on.”

  His interest perks at the mention of the dark fae territory. “You’ve seen the dark fae weapons vault?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes. I lived in dark fae territory for over a month.”

  He leans in, a strange manic look on his face. “Recently?”

  “Yes,” I respond warily as he stands, coming toe-to-toe with me.

  “My price is information about the dark fae territory.”

  A feral grin springs to my face. “No deal. How about I beat the shit out of your sons instead?”

  He laughs, and it’s the first sign that he isn’t a complete monster. “While that would be entertaining, it has no lasting value. I am not like my air brother who is so old he only craves a new form of stimulation. Information or nothing.”

  We glare at each other, standing so close that I can feel his breath across my face. He doesn’t back down, and I shake off Rowan’s hand when he places it on my arm. I don’t want spirit energy to calm down, I need this fire to get me through this encounter. Wait a minute. If he will pledge his allegiance and magic to me for information, can’t I just forbid him to use it? To pull his troops out of the combat zone?

  You’re too smart for your own good, Rowan says.

  I hide my smile as I step back. “Fine, you win. Information for your allegiance, but I want your allegiance first. I will not be tricked.”

  He tilts his head. “Fine. As long as you can ensure that you have information about their weapons, the dark fae masters, and their power.”

  “Yes, I can provide all of those things.”

  He steps forward holding his hands out palm up. I match him and grip his forearms to secure our connection.

  “Will you, King Odysseus of the Fire kingdom, agree to align your kingdom and your power with my cause?”

  “I, King Odysseus of the Fire kingdom, pledge myself and my power to thee,” he says, eyes shining like one thousand suns.

  A ripple of power warps around us, and I can feel my magic well swell with the might of it. A giddy smile fills my face, and I repress it when the king frowns. I cannot look like a young girl to him, I cannot look weak or uneducated. Allegiance is built on a foundation of trust and respect. Him pledging himself to me is only the beginning. It’s obvious that he and I will continue to be at odds. It is the way of the fire element. I can only hope that we will surge down the path of peace together. One that will be paved with deceit and trouble, no doubt.

  He pulls his hands from mine once the power settles. “Now, give me the information I asked for, starting with the weaponry.”

  We sit down, and Orin slides me a pen and paper. I write out a list of weapons I identified when I was in the vault, and how they work as Octavius had told me before passing the list to the king. He nods as he reads through them, looking almost hungry for the information.

  “So, these shadow swords can poison light fae? Suck the life out of them?”

  “That’s a drastic way of putting it, but yeah,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

  “Where did they get this type of weapon?”

  “They made it from their magic, which brings me to discussing the dark fae as a whole and the masters. Contrary to popular belief, they are not copies of light fae. They are spawned from the spilled blood of their copies. All of the dark fae masters are younger than their light fae counterparts, and their powers are not with the elements.”

  He raises one eyebrow. “Interesting information. Where did you acquire it?”

  I flinch. “From my friend, Octavius.”

  He leans forward. “Your friend? You do know he’s the dark fae grand general, right?” He pauses, pointing to the intricate eye patch. “He’s the one who took my eye. He’s formidable, ruthless. A man without boundaries or empathy.”

  I roll my eyes. “No fae in this room has empathy, no offense. He fights for a people. A cause. Not for vanity.”

  The king rises with a stone-cold look on his face. “You believe that I do this for what, pleasure? I fight for the good of the light fae line. I protect my citizens and all others in our territory from harm.”

  I lock eyes with him, sending direct spirit energy into the room. It encircles us once before manifesting into faceless fae from both sides of the war, weapons at odds and deep lavender colored blood flying in all directions. I spread my arms, walking around the table as the men in the room watch with rapt attention.

  “This is the realities of war. You are at fault, and they are at fault. There are no sides, but there is equal blame. All we can do now is move forward.” I pause as the dark fae strikes, his shadow sword imbedding deep within the light fae’s chest, smoke curling out from the wound. “There are not enough reasons to continue.”

  The king snaps out of my trance, slamming his hands onto the table. “I will terminate them all if I have to!”

  His outburst makes me jump. My spirit energy fades, spinning quickly around the room and back into my body. Rowan steadies me by gripping my elbow, a fierce look of disdain on his face. Whatever he’s going to say next will damn us all, I know it. He guides me to a chair so I can rest, my body still weak from my wounds and the unexpected display of power.

  Rowan faces Odysseus, all five elements shifting in color along his caramel skin. “You are ignorant,” he spits. “I’ve fought on thousands of battlefields, lived hundreds of lives, and felt the loss of them once they were gone. I will not stand for your behavior. I know bloodshed. We are doing it for
the wrong reasons with the wrong information. Tiana mentioned earlier that the dark fae do not possess elemental powers. Do you know why that is?”

  The room is silent, and the king looks stricken at Rowan’s brutal tone. We sit there, the brothers looking at Rowan with admiration while the king and him glare, at odds. This conversation is going nowhere fast, and I’d prefer to skip to the end. There’s nothing worse than a roundabout horror show. Rowan steps up to the king, forcing him to bump into his chair. His fear is palpable, and I glance at his sons, who have a look of disbelief on their faces.

  “You want to eradicate the dark fae? You’re a fool. We wouldn’t survive without them. They have a fundamental role in our world, the sister to ours. While we nurture the living, they guide the dead. They are the reapers of the paranormal world. Their powers above ground are dark and wrong because they are being used for the wrong reasons.”

  His words bring Octavius to mind, and I portray it to the others. He appears, looking as real and tangible as if he were really here. A dark soul looms in front of him before he places his both thumbs on their forehead, marvelous light blooming down both of their bodies. It blinds to room, but I don’t shield my eyes, even more eager to witness it a second time.

  I whisper the question aloud that I know is coming in my memories. “So, the fae that call themselves light?”

  Octavius turns to me then, smiling, and mouths the words that have been playing through my head.

  Do not know how wrong they are.

  Chapter Twelve

  Late that night, I’m brushing out my hair in front of the roaring fire after a long, luxurious bath. The king dismissed us after the show Rowan and I inevitably put on, saying nothing as he swiftly left the room. Tegan disappeared as well without a trace, leaving me, Rowan, and Orin to revel in what had occurred.

  Orin said little as he escorted us to our quarters for the night besides letting us know that a servant would be by with our dinner. Rowan immediately drew me a bath while he waited for our food. It had yet to arrive when I stepped out of the bath, wrapping a deep red, plush robe around myself. I’m still in that same robe now, appreciating its softness while Rowan bathes.