Wandering Queen (Lost Fae Book 1)

by May Dawson

  He grunted.

  “You’re not a very good conversationalist,” I said.

  “Maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.”

  And yet, as the two of us rode together, his powerful arms were looped tightly around my waist. His cock stiffened, brushing against the curve of my ass. I hid my smile. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to me.

  But, here we were. I had a captive audience for my questions.

  “You told me to talk to Azrael, but you have your own story. I did something to you too,” I said.

  “Why don’t you wait until you get your memories back, and then it can be a pleasant surprise?”

  I chewed my lower lip. “I’m sorry if I did something that hurt you.”

  He froze, just for a second, before he scoffed. “You can’t be sorry for something you don’t remember.”

  “Can’t you be?” I asked. “I obviously made bad choices. Hurt people. I don’t remember any of it, and it’s hard to believe I would have, but… I wish you’d tell me what I did. Otherwise, I can’t begin to make up for it.”

  “You can’t begin to make up for it anyway,” he said, his tone flat and unyielding. His arm tightened around my waist, as if his body gave him away no matter what he said.

  It was the same unthinking way that my body responded to Azrael.

  “You loved me,” I said slowly, understanding dawning. “But we weren’t together? Not like Azrael and I were?”

  His body went rigid. Bingo.

  Then he growled into my ear, “Shut up.”

  “Let me take her for a while,” Azrael called. “I need to explain to her about the Delphin.”

  Duncan had been so eager to keep me away from Azrael before, but now it seemed as if he could not hand me off fast enough.

  He hadn’t even denied that he loved me once before.

  Azrael spent the rest of the ride telling me about royal protocol I needed to know, about what it would be like to meet the Delphin and what she’d expect from me, but I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering.

  My gaze kept returning to Duncan as he rode ahead of us, his spine as straight as a sword, his shoulders wide and commanding.

  When I leaned back into Azrael’s grip, resting my head on his shoulder, he smiled faintly as if he were surprised, but he said nothing.

  And when he caught me staring after Duncan, he said nothing then too. He just kept telling me what he thought I needed to know.

  But I had my own set of questions.

  We rode past a foreboding stone castle on a hill.

  “Who lives there?” I asked.

  “The Sisters of Arms,” Azrael answered. “That used to be a nunnery back when they sent misbehaving women off to the convent. Before our world ripped into its different fragments: Dirtside and Avalon and the Grayworld and the others.”

  “What do they do with misbehaving women now?” I asked.

  Azrael’s lips quirked, but whatever he was thinking, he kept his own counsel. “Now the nunneries house the Sisters of Arms. Orphaned children, destitute women. They train as warriors and serve as a last line of defense when the monsters from the rips come too close to home.”

  Duncan snorted. “As if the monsters don’t come from home, often enough.”

  Azrael sighed faintly. “Enough with your superstitions.”

  “The monsters of the summer court aren’t superstitions, no matter how much you wish it so.”

  “The summer court has monsters?” I demanded.

  “The summer court has stories,” Azrael corrected. His hard body against mine was distracting. “Anyway, this Delphin is a seer who grew up in that keep since she was very young.”

  Duncan snorted.

  “Now you’re bringing up children’s stories to try to torment Alisa,” Azrael chided him. “Bringing up the nightmare creatures like the Shadow Man.”

  “There’s more than one Delphin?”

  “Not enough,” Duncan muttered.

  “Yes,” Azrael said, ignoring his brother, although I couldn’t do the same.

  I kept finding my gaze drawn to the grumpy knight.

  Azrael went on, “The Delphine can see the future, or at least, they see glimpses of it. They protect the Sisters by warning them when the monsters approach.”

  “The Delphin have incredible gifts of magic,” Tiron said. “If anyone can restore your memories, I’m sure the Delphin can.”

  If anyone can. He meant to be encouraging, but those words struck deep. What if no one could?

  Azrael drew up his horse. I glanced up at him, wondering why, and he jerked his jaw toward a gravel path that stretched away into the woods. The rocks almost seemed to shimmer, despite the gloom of the forest.

  “You’ll need to go alone from here,” Azrael said. “The Delphine won’t see anyone from outside the Sisterhood unless they come alone.”

  “That’s a creepy rule,” I said.

  I’d just barely swung off the horse when Duncan raised his hand in a shooing motion. “Off you go. Be brave.”

  Tiron leaned over to him and said, in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “If she slices off your head—or any other part—I won’t feel sorry for you.”

  I stared down the path. Trees seemed to tangle together above the path, the branches woven together as if they were embracing—or strangling each other.

  When I glanced over my shoulder at Azrael, he gave me an encouraging nod.

  “Why is she hesitating?” Duncan cupped his hand over his mouth and stage-whispered to Azrael. “Do you think she’s lost her nerve?”

  Duncan had leaned close enough to Azrael to bring him into punching distance, and once again, Azrael reached out and smacked his fist in Duncan’s chest. Duncan let out a cough that turned into a laugh as he watched me, those blue eyes of his bright and wicked.

  I tossed my hair over my shoulders and headed down the path, more irritated than I was unnerved now. My feet crunched over loose rock, and the deeper I went, the more it felt as if I were walking into darkness. The air grew gloomier and strangely cold. My skin tingled.

  Then I reached the end and stepped out into the sunlight. I was in a clearing, tightly ringed by trees as if they formed a fence, and at its center was a small house. In front of the house, a woman surrounded by dogs took a silver kettle from above a flickering fire.

  “Come in, Alisa,” she said, looking up at me. Her eyes crinkled at the corners, and all the other wrinkles in her face seemed to ripple at the motion. “Say hi to my pets and have some tea.”

  “Hi,” I said cautiously. I knelt so I wouldn’t be much of a threat and held out the back of my hands for the dogs to sniff as they bounded toward me. Then I was surrounded by half-a-dozen enormous tan hounds, all eagerly sniffing me. One of them knocked me over onto my ass, and I laughed. They were panting and friendly, and I began to rub their heads and pet their long bodies. One of them fell over, offering me his stomach, squirming his head into my lap.

  “They like you,” she said.

  “I bet they like everyone,” I said. I crooned to one, petting his ears, “Don’t you? Aren’t you a good doggo?”

  “Oh, not everyone,” the Delphin said mysteriously. She carried over two cups of tea and sank cross-legged into the grass, offering me a cup. She seemed as spry as a young woman, even though she looked as if she was very, very old.

  “Thank you,” I said, accepting the cup of tea.

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  “Well, given that you know my name, I’m sure it’s no surprise I’m seeking answers.”

  “I want to hear it from you,” she said. “Sometimes what you want and what you believe you want are two very different things.”

  “I want my memories back,” I said. “It seems like someone used some kind of enchantment to steal my memories.”

  She nodded thoughtfully before taking a sip of her tea. “What kind of monster would steal a person’s memories? They’re part of our identity.”

  “Yes.” I huffed a
sigh. “Do you know who it was? Or can you look back and see?

  She shook her head. “I don’t have a spell to return your memories to you. And I have a sense for the future, not the past. I can only see what lays ahead for people I’ve met. I can predict what will happen to the Sisters, because I know them all.”

  I frowned. “Then how did you know my name?”

  “I saw that one of my Sisters would meet a Fae princess and that trouble would follow where royalty went—as it usually does.”

  “Oh.”

  “If there is another Delphin you met before you lost your memories, she might have seen something in your future she can tell you,” she said. “Or she might not.”

  Great.

  She reached over and gripped my hand in hers comfortingly. “If you truly want answers, you’ll have to journey to the Cursed Caves.”

  “That doesn’t sound inviting at all,” I responded. “The Cursed Caves really need to work on their marketing.”

  She smiled faintly. “In the Cursed Caves, whatever enchantments you carry come to life. You’ll be able to see whoever your enemy was.”

  “And then what?” I asked.

  “Once you understand what happened, you can reclaim your memories,” she said. “If you wish. Some people find their pasts are overrated.”

  I snorted. “Mine very well might be, but I can’t bear not knowing.”

  Worst of all, I couldn’t begin to make up for anything I might have done.

  “Then here’s hoping you’re strong enough to bear the truth,” she said. She raised her cup. “Drink up, Alisa.”

  Drinking tea and petting dogs always comforted me, but I still didn’t know how to find myself again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Another night, another damned insufferable party.

  Nikia was helping me into my dress when there was a sharp knock on the door. The two of us exchanged a look, then she went to the front door.

  Azrael stared her down, something dark and fierce in his eyes. Instead of his usual warm, sexy voice, he growled, “Get out.”

  “Excuse me,” Nikia began, then let out a squeak.

  I clutched the bodice of my dress and rushed to the doorway to see Azrael gripping her elbow firmly as he shoved her out the door. He slammed the door shut, then stood there facing it, his spine as straight as a sword. I didn’t have to see his face; I could imagine the tension in his jaw when he radiated this kind of fury.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded. “I thought you said I terrified servants. Are you trying to fight me for my spot as head bitch around here?”

  He turned to me, folding his hands behind his back. Azrael was tall and commanding—almost intimidating—when his dark eyes flashed with fury.

  But he spoke in calm, controlled tunes when he said, “Tiron overheard her giving a report to Eilick—the captain of Faer’s guard. We believe she’s been reporting to him along.”

  A chill raced down my spine. I hated the thought of being spied on.

  “Fine,” I said off-handedly. “I guess you’ve earned yourself a position as my maid.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  I crossed the floor to him slowly, lifting my hands off the bodice of my gown. The tension in his face changed, the anger in his eyes shifting into heat, as the strapless gown slowly slid down my body, exposing my round human breasts, my stomach, the width of my hips.

  I’d heard muttering from other Fae in the ballroom about how ugly mortals were, but he watched me with nothing but desire.

  Then his gaze swept up to my face. “Are you proud of this little display?”

  “I am, in fact,” I said. “As you can see, without help, I’ll end up naked in court, and that will be awkward for everyone.”

  “You’re a demon with a crown,” he grumbled.

  I took that to mean I won, and I smiled as I turned. There was some strange pleasure in bending Azrael to my will, no matter how small the victory.

  I’d felt restless and stupid since the long, silent ride back from the Delphin, and riling him was comforting.

  When he stepped in close behind me, I breathed in the scent that was distinctly Azrael, spicy and warm. He smelled like home and it made my breath stutter in my chest, even before he knelt behind me. He was so close that I could feel his breath against the small of my back, and I bit my lip. Thank god he couldn’t see me react.

  His hands gripped the material of my dress and he stood slowly, drawing it up my body. I hadn’t been sure if he was teasing me deliberately, but now I knew, because his hands traced along with the silk, running up my calves, over my thighs, over my hips.

  “Nikia is quite a bit more efficient than you are.” My voice came out cool. That was a relief, because when his hands brushed over my skin, heat tingled in their wake.

  “It must be because she has more practice.” His voice was intimately close to my ear, reminding me of how he murmured into my ear at those damned parties, preserving me from humiliation as best he could.

  I raised my arms as he lifted the gown over my chest. His hands lingered there, just underneath my arms, his fingertips resting so near my breasts that I wondered what it would feel like if he caressed me.

  I’d had sex dirtside, wondering if it would wake the feelings I didn’t seem to have. My attempts to explore sex had all been disastrous. Now Azrael’s lightest touch did more to spark desire than any eager man with his face between my thighs.

  He reached for my corset strings and began to tighten them. It was strange to think he was as comfortable dressing me as my maid had been; how many times had he done this for me before? He said I didn’t want to marry him, but the act of letting a man dress me seemed so intimate and vulnerable.

  I couldn’t imagine the old Alisa without imagining how she’d loved him.

  “Will you need help with your bath later?” His voice was a purr in my ear.

  “I’ll let you know.” I cocked my head to one side. “Where do you all sleep?”

  “Why? Do you want to come torment us during the night too?”

  Coming from Duncan, I would have been sure those words were barbed. But Azrael seemed as if he might very well feel tormented now, touching me without giving way to his own desires.

  I bit my lip, sure that they were my desires too. He yanked on the corset, hard enough that I swayed back and forth with every tug.

  If it were anyone but Azrael—or Duncan—I would have turned to him and pressed my lips to his. I wouldn’t have held myself back from what I wanted.

  And I couldn’t deny any longer that I wanted Azrael.

  But our past changed everything. Until I remembered it, I didn’t know what it would mean to him if I kissed him.

  His fingertips brushed my back as he tied the corset into a bow at the top.

  “I don’t know when I might need my servant.” I stepped away from him quickly as if his touch stung me, even though the truth was dangerously opposite.

  He looked at me with quiet intensity, looking ridiculously handsome in even that plain tunic.

  “Why don’t you dress like a prince?” I asked. If Duncan was a prince, Azrael must be one too.

  His face shuttered. “We don’t have time to even begin that discussion.”

  “Then we can discuss it tonight when you undress me,” I said, a teasing—almost husky—note in my voice.

  “I don’t think so.”

  His tone was harsh, instantly dousing the fire that I’d started to feel toward him.

  “Azrael.” I frowned at him. “It’s your duty to explain to me how things work around here, isn’t it?”

  His lips quirked at one corner. “That doesn’t mean I owe you myself, Princess.”

  “I’m just asking for your story.”

  “And I’m just telling you no.”

  The two of us stared at each other for several long beats.

  “You know I’ll win eventually,” I told him.

  He stepped close to me, so intimately close I
could breathe in the scent of his body. He looked down at me, his gaze fixed on mine. He was so close that it seemed like he should kiss me.

  Purple eyes smoldered down at me. But his voice was soft when he warned, “When you and I play, Princess, no one wins.”

  I stared at him in exasperation for a heartbeat, then whirled and went to find my slippers. Maybe it was because I’d daydreamed about kissing him right before he slipped in another of those barbs, but I was suddenly furious. I found a pair of dainty silver slippers and turned to face him, shaking the shoe at him from across the room.

  “You are ridiculous, you know that? All your little one-liners. Do you ever think about what it’s like for me? Being here without my memories? Does it ever occur to you to walk in my—” Something boiled over in me, and I tossed a slipper at him. “In my goddamn shoes!”

  The slipper bounced off his chest, and he took a step forward, anger flaring in his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, as if I hadn’t meant to hit him. Then I chucked the second shoe. “My aim was terrible!”

  His arm flashed, knocking the slipper out of the air, before it could clock him in the face. He stared at me, those dark eyes intense on my face.

  I regretted my ridiculous behavior as soon as it was over. I would’ve regretted it even more if I’d actually hit him in the face.

  This goddamn place was making me come unwound, and my feelings for Azrael weren’t helping. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared into the distance, somewhere over his head.

  Calmly, Azrael picked up my slippers from the floor. I didn’t look at him as he walked toward me, his movements slow and predatory.

  He stepped right in front of me, so close my eyes were level with his chest.

  “Once upon a time, I would’ve spanked your spoiled royal ass for trying to hurt me, Princess,” he murmured.

  As if my body remembered him, my core clutched at the threat and at that low, seductive voice.

  It’d be nice if I could remember the relationship where he and I once played those kinds of games. My body felt tight as a strung bow, waiting for him to touch me. I didn’t know how, if he’d be rough or tender, but it didn’t matter much. I ached for his hands on my body.