Moon's Flower: A tale of Hidden Kingdom

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Moon's Flower: A tale of Hidden Kingdom Page 11

by Marie Hall


  Grabbing Jericho by the neck, she pulled him in for a kiss.

  The moment their lips touched the air grew charged, not only with magic, but with energy so powerful it rippled and buzzed along their skin.

  His hands were greedy as he curved them around the base of her spine, caressing the edges of her sensitive wings. Sighing into the kiss, molding her body as tight to his as humanly possible, Jericho took that opportunity to wrap his tongue around hers.

  Sparks danced around them, the sky shook, the land rumbled. The world was alive and fire danced through her veins. Jericho’s moonglow spilled into her and she felt something light and airy begin to rip away from her very soul.

  She knew immediately what it was and could not believe that it was actually happening to her. To them.

  He loved her. He truly loved her. In all her years she’d heard of true love’s kiss, of the irrevocable mating of souls when a destined pair collided.

  Shoving her hands against his chest, she pushed him against the tree trunk because she knew without knowing that they were running out of time and she wanted to take as much of him into her soul as possible.

  Calanthe wanted all of him. And Jericho was just as greedy. His hand that’d been caressing her wing tip was now moving up her thigh, shoving the rose petals aside and his fingers… his gloriously skilled fingers had found her hidden treasure.

  Lights danced in her vision and then he was inserting one deep into her channel and rubbing his thumb along her swollen nub and she was going to die from the pleasure.

  Forgotten was the fact that they knew they’d been caught, that what they now shared was soon to be over. That Miriam was behind them, and possibly even watching. It didn’t matter, in their frenzy to love, it didn’t matter at all. Although the way his body shielded hers, she knew it would only appear as if they were frantically kissing, not mating as well.

  Her hands were frantic on his body and within moments she had her hand shoved down his pants, grasping hold of his thick shaft and she was mindless as she pumped him up and down.

  Their hips moved in unison, finding that perfect rhythm between them.

  “I love you, Calanthe, with all that is in me. Now and forevermore,” Jericho hissed.

  “As I do you, my Moon. My darkest night.”

  As one they fractured into the pleasure, he howling and her crying—when they’d finished they were panting and clinging to one another as if for dear life.

  “As you can see,” a sharp and cutting voice fractured Calanthe’s foggy bliss, “she has broken faith with fairy law.”

  Galeta’s words were sharp and gloating.

  “Jericho,” Calanthe clung to him, knowing the second she turned she’d see what she’d most feared.

  His hands framed her face and she still smelled her essence of roses and wildflowers on his fingers. “It is okay, Calanthe,” he kissed her forehead fiercely, “we’ll be okay.”

  “Oh no,” another voice, much richer and deeper than Galeta’s mocked, “that is quite untrue.”

  “Siria!” he growled, looking up and with her heart sinking into the region of her knees, Calanthe turned to look upon the radiant beauty of the sun. “What are you doing here, the night is my domain.” He hurled it like an accusation.

  Her lips curved. “Except when a fairy gives her consent for me to visit on the night when the veil drops.”

  Galeta’s smirk was smug.

  This was Calanthe’s first time seeing the woman and she couldn’t help but feel inadequate compared to the woman’s radiance. Her skin literally sparkled with flecks of gold, her hair was a waterfall of light. Her body seeming sculpted by the hands of a master.

  What was Calanthe? Nothing but a silly, ugly little fairy by comparison.

  But it was so much worse than Calanthe had first feared. Because it wasn’t simply just The Blue, or even Siria watching them. June stood just behind Galeta, head hanging low, refusing to even look at Calanthe and beside her, were five other steely-eyed glares. Most of the high council of fairy stood beside Galeta the Blue. Jana the Green, Rafiella the Red, Lilith the White, Lumina the Yellow, and Antigua the Purple.

  Each governing body of fairy wearing the colors they represented in bold and colorful ways. Jana was cloaked in a gown of ivy. Rafiella in the plumage of a fiery phoenix, Lilith in a fog bank of white, Lumina in sea of daffodils, but perhaps the most arresting of all was Antigua’s spray of peacock feathers.

  Each and every one of them was glaring with open hostility. Jericho moved his body in such a way so as to shield Calanthe from their view as best he could. But it didn’t matter, they’d seen all they’d needed to see.

  Galeta’s self-smug smirk was proof of that.

  In hindsight it was easy to recognize the ruse for what it was, they’d been waiting all along for physical proof of Calanthe’s breach of law. For a moment she wondered if the two of them hadn’t given into their passions whether they’d be in this predicament now.

  “Jericho, this nonsense ends today,” Siria spoke up and held out her hand. “You are coming home with me. Now!”

  He hissed. “How dare you speak to me thus?”

  She laughed. “Please don’t tell you actually believed I would ever be okay with you bedding… that.” She pointed a long nail at Calanthe.

  Bristling, forgetting for a moment that the sun was not a force she should ever attempt to reckon with, Calanthe stepped out from behind his back. She would not cower.

  “The name is Calanthe,” she hissed.

  Siria did not even spare her a glance, her eyes were on Jericho’s alone.

  “Oh, Calanthe,” Galeta laughed, “we know your name and now you shall get the punishment you’ve deserved all along. Sisters!” her shrill cry was piercing as she pointed at the pair dramatically, “she has broken our laws.”

  There were murmuring assents.

  “We broke no laws. How can love be wrong?” Jericho’s growl tore from his throat, grabbing Calanthe close.

  “Jericho, don’t,” she whispered to him, while clinging to his shirt in desperation. Her heart ached, not with the punishment she was sure to receive, but the unfairness of it all.

  “No,” he shook his head and pointed at her, “I love her. If she’s broken faith with you, then it is only because I persuaded her to it.”

  Siria growled. He narrowed a flinty-eyed gaze on the sun.

  “Yes, me,” he repeated. “I was a fool to believe in your lies.”

  “Lies!” She cackled. “You speak of lies, tell her the truth, Jericho. Tell her what you did seconds before coming here.”

  “What? What did you do?” Calanthe looked up at him and the way his face crumpled made her soul ache. “Jericho, what did you do?”

  “We could tell her, but it is so much easier just to show her.” And with a snap of her fingers a scene unfolded above their heads.

  Siria and Jericho, dressed as they were now, standing upon a castle balcony and locked in a lover’s embrace.

  Calanthe saw it, but it was as if her brain could not compute what it was seeing. She simply could not believe it.

  “It isn’t as it appears,” he growled and shook Calanthe’s shoulders. “Please, my love, I swear it to you, if you’ve ever had faith in me, have faith in me now. I did kiss her, but it was a kiss of farewell.”

  Calanthe heard him speaking but it sounded like it was coming from a great distance, it was all just so much noise in her head and her heart was aching so that it felt like it should be bleeding. She took a deep breath and that’s when she realized the wetness she’d felt gathering in her eyes was now rolling down her cheeks.

  “Calanthe of the Rose,” Galeta’s voice was strong and sure, “You’ve been found guilty of treason and shall be sentenced to death.”

  “No!” For the first time June spoke up, the snail fairy grabbed hold of Galeta’s shoulder and jerked her around. “You cannot kill her, what she has done she did for love, it is not just, you simply cannot do—”

>   “Begone!” And with a flick of Galeta’s wrist, June vanished into thick gloom, her mournful cry echoing all around them long after she’d gone.

  Calanthe lifted her chin and that’s when she noticed Miriam was back on the toadstool where she’d been standing earlier. Her all white gaze locked eerily on Calanthe’s. She should be more worried than she was, she should be more focused on the words being spoken around her, but Calanthe could only stare and wonder why no one else seemed to be aware of Miriam’s presence at all.

  Jana spoke up then. “Galeta,” she snapped, “judgment is reserved for me. Do not overstep again!”

  Her now all black eyes bore into The Blue. With a slight incline of her head, Galeta acquiesced. “As you say, sister. Indeed I have, my apologies. But the chit has broken faith and by law, she must die.”

  “That is your opinion, but her fate lies upon the mercy of the hands of justice. And that is for me to decide.”

  Numb, perhaps from shock, Calanthe merely stood there blinking stupidly. None of this seemed real, it was all so sudden that it was hard to process. To believe that what she’d feared all along was really here, was really happening.

  “Jericho, come now!” Siria snapped. “Whatever fate befalls that girl is none of our concern.”

  The sun moved to intercept him and the stupor that Calanthe had been working under suddenly splintered apart. Blinking, as if waking up from a dream, she shook herself and gazed on at Siria.

  Everyone had betrayed her.

  June.

  Galeta.

  The Sun.

  Perhaps even Jericho. But the gentle warmth fluttering in her heart told her to have faith in him still, because she now shared a slice of his soul. And it was that slice that she clung to, no matter what her fate was after tonight.

  “Stay away from him,” she growled. “He belongs to me.”

  The beautiful face twisted and morphed into something hideous and ugly. Her teeth were sharp points, the features that’d once been so smooth and perfect, were now scarred and sharp and Jericho hissed a sharp breath.

  There was freedom in knowing that she no longer had to hide, no longer had to fear being caught… Calanthe grasped hold of his wrist and brought it to her lips. “You can take his physical form from me, Siria, but he will never belong to you.”

  “You dare!” Siria lifted her hands and Calanthe didn’t wait to see what magic would be hurled at her.

  Reacting on pure instinct she gathered her magic and hurled it like a javelin at the sun. Siria was quick, and jumped out of the way, but not before the very tip of the bolt tore through her upper arm, bleeding her instantly. Drops of pure molten red hissed to the ground, scorching the land beneath.

  Eyes wild, Siria screeched and was ready to do only goddess knew what in return, but Jericho shoved Calanthe behind his back and roared, “Enough! She speaks truth, Siria, and God help me if you ever attempt to hurt her again, I’ll kill you.”

  His words were menacing and low, but no less deadly for it.

  Snarling, she hugged her arms to her chest. “Kill her,” Siria spoke to The Green.

  Shaking from the adrenaline run off, Calanthe waited for Jana’s final verdict. “No matter what happens, Jericho,” she whispered for his ears only, drawing a line down the length of his spine, “I love you and I do trust you.”

  Turning into her, she opened her arms and he hugged her back. His eyes were heavy and searching, they both knew the moment had come and neither one would shy away from it, but they would speak their final truths.

  “My heart is now and forevermore tied to yours, Calanthe. There will be no other for me.”

  He finished speaking just as Jana glided to Calanthe. Her black soulless gaze peered deep in Calanthe’s own.

  “Beware the mating bond.” The haunting voice was Miriam’s.

  No one else seemed to notice that she’d spoken except for Calanthe and Jana who’d turned sharply at the sound of the voice. A willowy shadow standing upon the toadstool was the only thing left of the seer.

  Closing her eyes, Jana leaned her head forward, until her ear rested upon Calanthe’s heart.

  “They’re a mated pair,” she finally announced after the span of several heartbeats.

  A collective gasp escaped the council.

  “What does that mean?” Siria snapped.

  Galeta’s sharp teeth were exposed by her snarl. “It means we cannot kill her without killing him.”

  “No!” Siria cried, “You must not harm the moon.”

  “This changes everything,” Jana said.

  “This changes nothing,” Galeta rushed forward and pointed at them. “There are ways to hurt them just as much without killing, in fact,” her lips curved into a terrifying smile, “there are ways to hurt them even worse. Sisters, let us confer.”

  The council drew together in the corner, leaving Jericho and Calanthe still clinging to one another. If looks could kill, Siria would have silenced Calanthe forever.

  None of them spoke, knowing the moment was too deep, too profound for mere words.

  Calanthe couldn’t believe what she’d done to Siria and that she was still standing. That they hadn’t struck her dead. She shot a glance at the toadstool, but Miriam was gone and suddenly Calanthe understood why Miriam had forced them to kiss. The seer had saved their lives.

  And on that thought another one took its place, she’d mentioned that the board was set to her liking, that the game was as it should be. What did that mean? Would they be free to be together?

  Would the council decide to strip her wings?

  It was a fate worse than death for most fairies, but if it meant that Calanthe could be with him forever, she would jump at the punishment. After all she’d never felt like much of a fairy to begin with. What were wings when it came to happiness? Very little.

  “It is decided.” The council spoke in unison. The Green turned toward them, but spoke to Galeta. “The Blue will hand you your fate. Both of your fates.”

  Jericho’s jaw clenched and Calanthe frowned. She hadn’t realized their jurisdiction extended outside of Faedom.

  Siria’s smug smirk was a hint that something more was going on. “I gave them my approval to hand you punishment as well, Jericho, and what they’ve dreamed up, why it was positively devilish.” She laughed.

  Cold fear washed through Calanthe’s body even as his warm one curved around hers.

  “Calanthe of the Rose,” Galeta’s voice rose in pitch, “you are cursed. You stole the moon flower seed from my home, you slept with a man… your punishment is that you should turn into the very flower you stole from me.”

  “What?” she cried, because her ears were ringing and she was sure she hadn’t understood that correctly.

  But Galeta ignored her cry. “Jericho of the Moon, for beguiling the daughter of the glen and causing her to break faith with her sisters you will forever remain tied to the moon. No longer will there be a five hundred year term of service, your servitude will last unto eternity.”

  His body went rigid as Siria laughed.

  “You cannot do that, you do not have the right,” he growled.

  “Oh, but they do. As long as they have my consent and, my dear sweet Jericho, they heartily have it. But on top of that, I get one day of my choosing where I can control both sun and moon.”

  Calanthe frowned, not understanding at all how that could be any great punishment.

  “And there is more,” her words trilled with laughter, “for the next three hundred years you shall never again be able to return to land. Every day shall be like the day before, stuck in the tower, with only myself for company.”

  At that Jericho snapped, and he was suddenly rushing Siria.

  But unlike the last time where Calanthe had managed a surprise attack, Siria was prepared this time. Her hand was up and a shield of flame suddenly blocked his way. Stopping immediately, he slammed a fist over his eyes.

  Calanthe dragged him back to her side and hugged him to her
breast.

  “Calanthe, I’m so sorry,” he muttered.

  “So it has been spoken,” Galeta intoned.

  “So mote it be,” the council spoke as one.

  The air quivered and then suddenly it was like a giant had clasped onto Calanthe’s side, holding her fast and she screamed as the pressure increased.

  Jericho’s eyes grew wide. “Calanthe,” he cried, trying to grab her back to him, but his hand could not faze through the bands, he could not rip her away from the collective power of the council.

  Turning her eyes to him, tears streaming from her eyes, she poured all the love in her heart into them, hoping he understood, that he could see it.

  He nodded. “I love you, Calanthe. I love you too.”

  Her spine snapped in half and she was flung to the ground. The bones inside her body shifted and reformed, the skin melted off, and her brain screamed as the fire consumed.

  And then the world shrunk and her soul was condensing, spiraling, and gathering into a tight ball and just when she thought she would die from the pain… it was over.

  And the impossible horror of her situation finally dawned on her. Jericho fell to his knees, his beautiful mouth frowning and his eyes disbelieving as he traced the soft curves of her petals.

  “My beautiful, Calanthe, what have they done to you?”

  And he stayed with her all through the night, even after the others had left. And they both knew it was over. After tonight Jericho would never again be able to visit her, come to her, because he’d been banished to his castle for the next three hundred years, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because Calanthe had turned into the flower she’d fallen in love with all those moons ago.

  She was the moon’s flower in truth now and if petals could cry, the land would be soaked with her tears…

  Chapter 8

  “Now off to bed.”

  “Ahhh, Dani, surely there’s more,” the little tiger lily wheedled. “It cannot just end that way. The lover’s separated forever, Siria getting to keep Jericho, and Calanthe broken hearted and transformed. That cannot be all.”

 

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