The Last Lullaby (The Spellsinger Book 1)

by Amy Sumida

  And unsettling. Torin may be more reserved than other Shining Ones, but there were several royals visiting his court now, and they did not all share in his modesty. Every night there came a point in the revelry when the fun became more of the bedroom variety. Except without the bedroom.

  The first night had been stressful for me. I'd left the feast as soon as it became evident that Torin was not going to put an end to the erotic behavior. I had looked at him in surprise, but he had merely shrugged and smiled. He said I could enjoy the show without participating in it. I shook my head at him and left. Torin hadn't followed. That was what really pissed me off. But then he'd climbed into our bed later, and made love to me for hours. So I guess I had reaped the benefits of his voyeurism. What did I care where he'd worked up his appetite? As long as he ate at home.

  The second night, I stayed longer, and each night thereafter made the events a little easier to watch. It's funny how quickly you can become numb to such things. Still, I wouldn't last very long. It was hard to have a conversation while people were moaning in the background. And it was very difficult to ignore certain, shall we say, positions that the Shining Ones achieved. So there always came a time when I bailed. Torin would stay a bit longer, and then he'd release his pent-up aggression with me in private.

  But I had no intentions of leaving early on this particular night. Not with Oonagh prowling the hall, her tiny breasts shoved up to show them off to their best advantage. Her hair was free and flowing down her back, way past her hips, in impossible curls. An obvious invitation to be touched. And her pale cheeks were blushed like a young girl's. She looked stunning.

  I had no doubt that her clothes would be coming off in that dining hall, and she'd be removing them as close to Torin as she could get. But Oonagh wasn't the only thing keeping me there. I wanted to talk to Torin about the bombs. I'd had some time to think things over, and I wanted to discuss my thoughts with him, but we hadn't had a private moment together since we'd met with Quinlan. Ironically, the sexual activities going on around us, and our lack of participation in them, pretty much guaranteed that no one was eavesdropping on our conversation.

  “I think we should sneak into the Copper Castle and find that bomb maker,” I whispered to Torin. “We need to eradicate this threat before we go to war.”

  Torin tore his eyes away from a particularly flexible couple and looked at me. “I agree.”

  “Good.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid you'd say something silly like, 'You're too precious to risk,' or some nonsense like that.”

  “Oh, you're not going.” Torin lost interest in the entertainment immediately, and intensified his stare on me. “I will send in some of my best knights.”

  “To find a bomb maker who can destroy magic?” I asked him. “And to look for research? They could be up against any number of different jewel fairies, and they won't know how to spot the research. I need to go and so does Quinlan.”

  “Quinlan?” Torin growled. “You want me to send you off to Copper with Quinlan?”

  “I'd be leaving you behind with Oonagh,” I snapped. “This isn't about our relationship; this is about Copper having the ability to kill magic.”

  Torin stared at me hard, his jaw clenched and his breath coming fast. Finally he inhaled deep and let it out slowly. “You're right, this is nearly as important as preventing Galen from conquering Earth.”

  “Thank you,” I sighed.

  “But I don't like the thought of sending you out to Copper without me,” Torin scowled. “And I can't go, not now.”

  “I know,” I said gently. “You need to be here. It's okay. We'll be able to blend in easier without you.”

  Torin scowled deeper.

  “Sorry, honey, but you're a fucking huge fairy.”

  Torin let out a low chuckle.

  “And speaking of fucking . . . you've slept together, haven't you?” I eyed Oonagh as she fluttered about the room. All of the royals dined with us at the high table, but Oonagh had only pecked at her food and then floated off to display herself before us like she was dessert.

  “Yes, of course,” Torin said casually.

  I shot him an annoyed look.

  “I wasn't a virgin when we met, Elaria,” he teased me.

  “I know that,” I huffed, “and neither was I. I just hoped you had better taste.”

  “She was available and eager, as well as beautiful.” Torin shrugged. “I'm a man.”

  “Yeah,” I huffed, “all right. But are all of your ex-girlfriends blonde?”

  “Are all of your ex-boyfriends blond?” Torin shot back, and flung an annoyed glance at Banning.

  “He's not my ex-boyfriend,” I pointed out.

  “Technically, he is,” Torin argued. “You told me you believed it to be true.”

  I had explained my possible past with Banning, to Torin, and Torin had questioned me extensively on it. I'd been as honest as possible, telling him about the memories, and all the strange feelings I had for Banning. But I'd also told him about the relic's spell, and how I wasn't receiving any new memories of my past with Banning anymore. Torin knew better than to bring it up. Which meant something was bothering him.

  “The relic broke all of my ties to Banning.” I narrowed my eyes on Torin. “Why are my questions about Oonagh bothering you?”

  “They're not.” He looked away. I saw his glance skitter over the Snowflake Obsidian Queen.

  “Uh-huh,” I sighed and sat back in my seat. “Whenever you'd like to tell me the truth, I'd be happy to hear it.”

  “I don't lie to you,” Torin said sharply. “Your questions never bother me. I love talking to you, and I love how honest we can be with each other. It's just Oonagh . . .” He scowled, and I followed his gaze to her.

  She was in a passionate embrace with Sir Kean.

  Wow, I didn't see that coming. I assumed she'd go for Declan. I looked around the room, and saw why Oonagh wasn't with the Alexandrite king. He was nowhere to be found. Strange. Dinner was over, but I'd thought if anyone would stay for the evening's more intimate entertainments, it would be King Declan. He'd made it abundantly clear that he enjoyed them.

  “Does that bother you?” I nodded to Oonagh and Kean.

  The Howlite knight had his face buried in Oonagh's cleavage. What there was of it. Yeah, I know that was catty. Meow.

  “No,” Torin laughed. “If it were you down there, I'd tear Sir Kean apart. But Oonagh”-he shrugged-“I find that I don't even feel the urge to watch.”

  “That's it,” I said in surprise. “You're upset because you don't feel anything. Do you think the relic did that? It took my past from me; maybe it took yours too.”

  “Possibly,” Torin admitted, “but I don't think that's entirely the case. When we spoke those words to each other”-he leaned in and rubbed his cheek to mine-“and the relic bound us with our own desires, I believe that it sought to remove obstacles to our love.”

  “Obstacles?” I asked as my eyes sought out Banning.

  He was seated beside Cerberus, who had a beautiful woman sprawled across his lap. Another stunning fey woman sat next to Banning, but he seemed to be resisting her advances. Banning caught me looking and lifted his glass to me. I lifted mine back and nodded. But then Banning downed the contents of his goblet, stood, and left the room.

  “Yes, obstacles,” Torin said pointedly. “Whether you wish to admit it or not, Elaria, Banning had some kind of hold on you.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Precisely.”

  “And Oonagh had a hold on you?” I asked. “I thought you said she was convenient.”

  “She was”-he sighed-“at first. Then things progressed. I thought I loved her once, but then she left me.”

  “She left you?” I made a shocked sound.

  “I know,” he chuckled. “Hard to believe.”

  “Shut up.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I wanted more and she didn't.” Torin shrugged. “There were issues. It's rare for monarchs of diffe
rent jewels to marry. It can be difficult, but I had thought she loved me enough to make the effort. And she may have, but there was always my lineage to consider. Having an affair with the Mongrel King is one thing, but to marry him would be a different matter entirely.”

  “What did you just call yourself?” I growled.

  “It's what they call me.” His jaw clenched. “Because of my witch blood.”

  “Hold on . . . witch? You're part witch? That's the mix in your ancestry?” My anger faded into shock.

  “Not just that.” Torin closed his eyes briefly. “I didn't want to tell you this. I was afraid of what you might think.”

  “Tell me what?” I leaned closer, blocking out the rest of the room.

  “My grandmother was raped by a witch during the war.” He met my eyes steadily, but there was a tick in his cheek. “There was so much magic running rampant, she wasn't able to protect herself from pregnancy.”

  “Raped?” I breathed in horror. “And she still had the baby?”

  “A shining woman would never kill a child because of its parentage,” Torin scowled. “Of course she had the babe. That was my mother. Mother found happiness despite the stigma of her birth. But then, my mother is very beautiful, and it's hard to hold such things against a beautiful woman.”

  “Witch blood,” I whispered as something tingled at the base of my mind. “That's why we work so well together.”

  “What?”

  “Like when we rebuilt your guardians,” I explained. “I could feel our magic blending. It was so smooth. I had wondered at the ease of it, and attributed it to the relic. But then we cast that spell together, on each other. I've never done that before.”

  “Perhaps we just meld well, all on our own.” Torin began to smile.

  “In so many ways.” I smiled back.

  “So that night”-he took my hands earnestly-“when we spoke those powerful words to each other . . .”

  “Our magic blended with that of the relic.” I nodded. “I think it was responding to both of our needs. My need to let go of Banning.”

  “And my need to let go of past wounds, to not allow them to infect what we could have together,” Torin added. “I've found it difficult to trust again after Oonagh. I've cared deeply for women since then, but it always turns sour. I get jealous, and start to . . .” He shook his head.

  “Start to behave barbarically?” I teased him. “Like you did that night I was taken?”

  “Exactly.” Torin made a self-deprecating sound. “I can't guarantee that I won't behave like that again, but I think the spell removed my tendency toward insane jealousy, the piece of me that had been broken by Oonagh.”

  “So we start fresh then, Onyx King.” I slid my palm along his cheek.

  “Just you and I, no past to haunt us,” he agreed.

  I wrapped myself around him and kissed him. I didn't care about what was happening around us or even who was watching us. In that moment, there was only Torin, our kiss, and our vow to each other.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I didn't have to wait for Torin that night. After our public display of affection, he'd taken my hand, and we'd left the hall together. Much to Oonagh's chagrin. I'd secretly snickered when I saw her push Sir Kean away petulantly, and go flouncing off. All just a show, as I'd suspected. Torin didn't even notice; he was too intent on getting me to his chambers.

  Honestly, I didn't understand that kind of behavior. It was one thing to make your ex jealous by dating someone else, maybe flaunting the relationship by holding hands, something like that. But to actually make out with another man in front of the man you truly wanted, even go as far as having sex in front of your ex? I just didn't see how that would get him back.

  It definitely hadn't worked on Torin, but then we'd had a little help from our friendly neighborhood relic. Maybe it would have worked on him if we hadn't woven the spell together. I guess I'll never know, so there was no use in dwelling on it. I had enough drama in my life without creating more. So I forgot all about Oonagh, and Torin's past with her, choosing instead to focus on my future with him. Especially the immediate future which involved a lot of kissing . . . and hopefully no telling.

  The next morning, I woke up before Torin, relaxed and refreshed from our naughty activities of the night before. We'd been having breakfast together in his private dining room so we didn't have to be all polite and royal with the other monarchs first thing in the morning. It was kind of nice to sit there with Torin in our dressing robes and eat together. It felt nearly as intimate as sleeping together. But I needed to pop across the hall to my guest room first. I wanted to wear something of my own. I was getting tired of all the fairy gowns with their heavy fabric and sparkly adornments. Though I suppose they suited my new irremovable jewelry better than a pair of jeans and a hoodie.

  I didn't care- that was exactly what I wanted to wear. I was beginning to lose myself to Tír na nÓg, Torin, and the relic. I needed to connect with something of my own, and remember who I was. So I slipped into my guest room, and then into some old jeans, a Hawaiian T-shirt, and a soft leather hoodie.

  “Right, this is me.” I breathed in the scent of Jo Malone's Red Roses, my favorite perfume, which had entrenched itself within the leather jacket. “So much better.”

  “Damn the diamonds!” Sara cursed as she came into the room. “You're supposed to call for me when you want to . . . What the hell are you wearing?”

  “My clothes,” I smiled at her.

  “Are you serious right now?” Sara shook her head at me. “That frigid bitch is downstairs looking like the Goddess of Tír na nÓg, and you want to wear that? I had a whole outfit planned for you, an ensemble meant to take her down a few notches. You can't walk out among Shining One royals and face that pale-faced slut looking like a human.”

  “I appreciate your loyalty,” I chuckled, “but this is something I've worn to work in. It feels like armor to me, and I need that kind of confidence if I have to deal with the Queen Bitch.”

  “Humph.” Sara crossed her arms and considered me. Then she walked around me, taking her sweet-ass time. “You know what?” She tapped a finger to her nose. “When you look past the fact that this isn't worthy of royalty, your ensemble is quite flattering. Your posterior is shown off like no other woman's here will be. Jeans, right? That's what they're called?”

  “Yes.” I lifted my jacket higher to show them off. “Nothing helps an ass look finer than the right pair of jeans.”

  “No kidding,” Sara said. “Okay, yes.” She circled to the front. “But this”-she waved her hand at the loose T-shirt-“take off that atrocity immediately.”

  “I like it.” I pouted at her. “It has local flavor.”

  “And here the local flavor is much more palatable.” Sara grimaced. “Take it off, Your Majesty, or I shall tear it from you. I would sooner be whipped for insubordination than allow you to walk out that door looking like a backwoods bumpkin.”

  “Hawaii is not backwoods.” I scowled.

  “I'd never have guessed.” She looked pointedly to the shirt. “What happened to coconut bras? Don't they wear those there?”

  “You want me to wear a coconut bra?” I laughed. “Shall I see if I can find a grass skirt too?”

  “It would be preferable to this sack of cotton.”

  “Show me a better option then,” I challenged her.

  Sara's eyes lit up, and she smirked before running out the door.

  “Sara!” I called after her, but she didn't come back. “What am I supposed to do? Sit here and wait while she goes shopping?”

  I flounced onto the bed, and wrapped the sweet-smelling leather tighter around me. Actually, I didn't have long to wait. Sara was back within minutes, brandishing a piece of crimson silk like a flag of war. I narrowed my eyes on it.

  “What is that?” I stood.

  “Your ticket to winning over the entire male population of Tír na nÓg.” She tossed it at me.

  “Also known as a bustier.”
I grimaced at it. “You called Oonagh a slut, and yet you want me to wear a bustier? This is the core piece of slutty outfits.”

  “You have these on Earth?” Sara scowled. “I just tore the skirt off a gown for you. This is the bodice. I thought it was something new. Something exciting and creative.”

  “It probably is,” I hastened to assure her, “in Tír na nÓg. On Earth, they have something similar which is either called a bustier or a corset, depending on how tight you lace it.”

  “Your tits will look fantastic in it,” Sara said boldly. “And with your ass on display, the men will be salivating. Especially since you're not a slut, and they all know that's the most they're ever going to see of you. Unlike some women . . . I won't name any names.” She made a coughing sound that turned into, “Oonagh,” cough, cough, “who tosses her skirts up as soon as the cake is cleared.”

  “I have to say, I'm surprised at your attitude.” I cocked my head at her. “I thought all of the Shining Ones viewed sex with an extremely open mind.”

  “You mean you thought we were all a bunch of debauched degenerates.” She grimaced.

  “Can you blame me?” I asked. “If this is how your celebrations go.”

  “Not everywhere”-she gave me a churlish look-“as you well know. Our king doesn't approve of such displays, and a lot of us came to his court simply because we feel similarly.”

  “Seriously?” I blinked at her in shock. “I had no idea.”

  “Sex is natural,” she amended. “But it's also sacred. I don't think it's something that should be flaunted about like a new pair of earrings. It's a private treasure.”

  “I agree,” I said seriously. “I knew I liked you for a reason, Sara.”

  “Well”-she cleared her throat awkwardly-“do you like me enough to try on the bodice?”