Cast in Faefire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 3)

by SM Reine

  “Also true,” Marion said, even more faintly than before.

  The hairstylist tugged too hard on her curls. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  Marion wished she’d had a friend with her—someone who she could tell about what happened with Konig. It wasn’t like Heather would side with Marion. Heather had been guarding Konig since the two of them had been toddlers.

  If Marion’s mother had been there… Or even Dana…

  But not a single person that she could describe as a friend was going to attend the wedding, much less help her prepare for it. She had to sit there, surrounded by stylists assigned by her soon-to-be mother-in-law, unable to say a single word crossing her mind.

  A tear escaped to slide down her cheek.

  “Don’t do that,” said the sidhe doing her makeup. “You’re going to destroy the mascara.”

  Marion stood suddenly. The chair swiveled, its arms knocking into her stylists.

  Her reflection in the elaborate underwear and makeup was stunning—exactly the way she’d want to look on her wedding night, her first evening shared with her husband.

  She wanted to leap off of the nearest waterfall into a chasm.

  “I need to be alone,” Marion said.

  Nori checked her watch. “You have to start pre-ceremony press soon. We’ve booked an exclusive interview with January Lazar to precede the council’s vote, and then you’ve got about fifteen minutes to relocate to the venue for the ceremony…”

  And that was assuming the ceremony would happen at all. Everything hinged on the vote.

  Marion fought to swallow down the burning in her throat. “Yes, I know I have a tight schedule. That’s why I need a few minutes to myself now.” Imperiousness crept into her tone, and she embraced it—the one thing that might protect her. “I’m not making a request. Empty my rooms!”

  She barely heard the sullen muttering from her stylists. She stormed to the balcony doors and glared out at the bright sky as they left. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep tears from sliding down her cheeks.

  It wouldn’t do to ruin the stupid makeup.

  As soon as her room was empty, she whipped away from the window, pacing across her room. She tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She couldn’t inhale without her back hurting. Marion suspected that Konig had broken a rib when he’d thrown her.

  “Get it together,” Marion hissed at herself, leaning on the vanity so she could glare at her beautiful reflection in the mirror. “Chin up. Stop weeping. You can do this!”

  Motion stirred in the mirror over her shoulder.

  She straightened, prepared to snap at whoever dared to intrude.

  And then Marion saw Seth’s face.

  He stepped out of the shadows by the closet. Light glimmered under his shirt, and it wasn’t as faint as it had been the night before. His wound must have been expanding around the edges of the glamour.

  “Are you okay?” Marion asked, leaning back against the vanity. It was as much distance as she could put between them without going onto the balcony.

  He smoothed a hand down the front of his shirt. “Aside from a near-drowning, yes. It was my fault. I wasn’t prepared for where I’d find the darknet servers.”

  “They’re underwater?” It certainly explained why she hadn’t been able to find them before. “At least you’re okay. Thank the gods—or thank you, I suppose. You should have been more careful.”

  He wasn’t looking at her. “You might want to, uh…”

  “What?” She looked down at herself. She was still wearing nothing but the underwear. “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” She took the silk robe off of her vanity and covered herself. “How did you find the servers?”

  “Dana helped me. Oh, and I released her back to Vegas. Sorry.”

  Marion might have been annoyed a few hours earlier, before Konig had visited her. Now she only felt numb. “That’s fine. I don’t care.”

  Seth took a step toward her.

  She jerked back reflexively, nearly knocking her makeup off of the vanity.

  The clatter stopped him in his tracks. He hung back, confused. And why wouldn’t he? As Konig had pointed out, Marion had been dragging Seth off to shadowy corners the night before. Now she was trying to escape him. Talk about mixed signals.

  Marion lifted her chin, reassuming her shield of arrogance. “Shouldn’t you be seeing Lucifer so that you can become a vampire now?”

  “I wanted to talk to you first,” Seth said.

  His tone was so much gentler than hers. If he’d gotten angry, she could have shoved him away, yelled at him to leave her room. But his calm wormed its way through her defenses like they weren’t even there. “What do you need?”

  “You asked me to give a speech to endorse your wedding. The thing is, if I tell everyone I’m God, I’m going to have to be God. I’ll be shouldering all the responsibility that entails. I’ll be blamed for Genesis.”

  He wanted to talk about Genesis now? Of all times? Marion couldn’t have cared less about any apocalypse, past or future. “I already told you that it’s fine if you don’t want to talk to the council. I’m sure Violet hasn’t slept a wink all night so that she could convince everyone to agree with us. I’ve the best sidhe politicians on my side. You don’t owe me anything.”

  “I just think I’d be more helpful if I get turned into a vampire,” Seth said.

  “You’ll have to walk me through the logic. I don’t understand.”

  “If I become godly, I’ll be detached from this life. But if I become a vampire…I could stay.” He took one small step closer, as cautious as though approaching a wounded bird. “I could stay with you, Marion.”

  Seth wasn’t sure how he had expected Marion to react to his offer. He knew he hadn’t expected her to laugh, though.

  It was almost shrill, and that sounded so strange coming from her, especially now that she had on such careful makeup and her hair half-done. She looked like a supermodel who had been hired to play a queen in a movie, rather than a woman who was actually going to become a queen. Yet she laughed shrilly, a little hysterically, and it sounded wrong.

  “Stay with me,” she said, dabbing under her eyes with her fingertips. “As a vampire.”

  “Well, vampires don’t get along with sunlight, and there’s no sun in the Winter Court,” Seth said slowly. “I could stick around to defend you from Leliel, or whoever else attacks if Niflheimr’s wards fall. I mean, even if Konig gets his title stripped—you could still be safe, Marion. I’d protect you.”

  She just kept laughing. Her shoulders shook, and then her whole body shook, and she covered her face with both hands.

  It took a few seconds for her to stop trembling.

  When her hands dropped again, she straightened her spine and her face was blank.

  “I won’t need a vampire to guard me,” Marion said with strange detachment. “I’m going to marry Konig. He’ll be able to restore the wards even if his title is stripped, and we’ll handle Leliel when she comes.” Even when she was icy, she was beautiful. Maybe especially when she was icy.

  Seth didn’t like her as much like this, with her hair twisted atop her head, and so much makeup he couldn’t see the texture of her flawless skin. He didn’t like when she smiled like she was hiding anger.

  She’d been so different the night before.

  Something was wrong.

  “Talk to me,” Seth said. “I don’t have angel mind-reading powers. What’s going on in your head?”

  She turned from him with a twist of her shoulders that all but screamed dismissiveness. “Go see Lucifer. It takes time to be transformed into a vampire, so you’ll want to start soon.” When she faced the window, the bright light spilled over one shoulder, highlighting the nape of her neck and fine hairs that hadn’t yet been pinned into place.

  The skin was bruised. It looked like fingerprints.

  Marion’s chilliness must have been contagious. It felt like the icy spires of Niflheimr had just taken up residence w
ithin Seth’s gut.

  “Take off the robe,” Seth said.

  She went rigid. “What?”

  “The robe,” he said. “Drop it.”

  Marion clutched it at her chest. “Excuse me. I’m getting married!”

  “Don’t try to distract me. Let me see your back. You’re wounded.”

  Her carefully constructed mask cracked. Her bottom lip trembled. “But Seth…” She didn’t move away when he approached her this time.

  “Please?” Seth asked.

  Marion nodded mutely, and she turned away from him again, letting the robe fall into the crooks of her elbows.

  At another time, Seth would have been distracted by her spine’s graceful furrow dipping behind the laces of her loose corset. The blue-white of her undergarments offset her olive skin tones perfectly.

  It also drew out the blue in her bruises.

  Numerous markings mottled the skin he could see—and that was only what was exposed.

  “Can I…?” he asked, tugging on the bow.

  She nodded again without looking at him.

  He unknotted the corset and slid a finger underneath the laces to loosen them. It fell apart under his hands, exposing a thin chemise underneath, which was little more than tissue.

  Seth lifted it to see the damage.

  And that was the only word for it. Damage.

  Seth skimmed his palm over the bruises. They covered more space than his hands could with fingers spread. She shivered at the contact. “Did this happen when we fell in the pantry?”

  “No, it wasn’t the fall.” She let the robe tumble completely off of one arm and showed it to him. It was definitely fingerprints on her smooth flesh. Someone had grabbed her hard—someone with a hand the size of an adult man’s.

  Seth could only think of one man that Marion would allow close enough to do that.

  “Konig?” The name came out flat, like death on his lips.

  A tear slid down Marion’s cheek. She’d never been laughing. She had been trying not to cry.

  Seth folded Marion into his arms, burying his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of lavender and burned oak. A scent that was now as familiar to him as fresh-cut grass, and just as comforting.

  Holding her was the only thing that kept the white light of rage from carrying Seth out of Marion’s bedroom to smear Konig’s pretty boy-band face across the throne room floor. But he couldn’t even hold her as tight as he wanted. Not without hurting her.

  “What do you want to do about him?” Seth asked.

  Marion’s fingers squeezed his arms. “What do I want to do?”

  “I already know what I’d want to do to Konig.” Seth was having incredibly colorful thoughts about murdering Konig right at that moment—far from his typical thought processes, but irrepressible nonetheless. “What I want doesn’t matter, though. Tell me what needs to happen and I’ll make it happen.”

  “Well,” Marion said, audibly swallowing, “I have to marry Konig.”

  Seth took her gently by the upper arms, pushing her far enough back that he could see her. Her makeup was streaky. Her eyes were puffy. “You don’t have to do anything. Say the word and I’ll take you far away. Anywhere you want.”

  “You don’t understand. I want to do this.” She managed to say that with conviction even though she was still crying. “I won’t be Queen of the Winter Court if I don’t.” Her voice hitched. She scrubbed a hand over her eyes, smearing the makeup further. “And I love Konig.”

  Of all the things she could have said, none shocked him as much as that. “He beat the crap out of you.”

  “It was my fault. He heard that you and I were sneaking around last night and he thought…” Marion flinched as though she’d been hit all over again. “He got jealous.”

  Seth searched for words and found none.

  He gently sat Marion in front of the vanity, and then paced the room, seeking an outlet for that anger that didn’t involve throttling Konig. “Let’s say you were cheating on him with me. Or anyone else. Do you think that means you’d deserve to get hit?”

  “Jealousy makes people irrational, and I’ve been getting on every one of Konig’s last nerves. I’ve been distant from him since I lost my memory. I haven’t…” She clapped a hand over her mouth, and she said, very quietly, “We haven’t been having sex. And he’s sidhe. It’s worse than hitting Konig.”

  “No, as a matter of fact, it is fucking not,” Seth said.

  “Konig and I haven’t been sleeping together. What is he supposed to think when you and I are seen…?” Her eyes flicked up to him, and then back down to her hands. Marion shook her head. “I hurt him long before he hurt me.”

  “That’s bullshit. Jesus, Marion. This isn’t the ferocious woman I know talking. The woman who bullied me all the way up the Pacific Northwest, laid claim to my bank account, and invited herself on my trip to Sheol. What happened to that woman? The one entitled to whatever she wants?”

  “She got everyone killed!” Marion cried out with sudden, shocking fierceness. “Don’t you realize, Seth? I was selfish and entitled and the refugees were killed!” He opened his mouth. She didn’t let him speak. “I’m a horrible person and everyone knows that. My own mother won’t be at the wedding!”

  He dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching her hands. “Listen. We don’t hit the people we love. There is no excuse. Ever.” Seth swallowed down the knot in his throat. “I would never hurt you, Marion.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “Look inside. Read my mind.”

  She pulled away without searching his thoughts. “How can you say that? You drank my blood in Sheol long before Konig ever struck me.”

  A chill settled over Seth.

  “It’s different,” he said hoarsely.

  But is it?

  “I can’t be selfish,” Marion said again firmly, if not fiercely. “This wedding needs to happen.”

  “If he’s done this once, he’ll do it again. It’ll only escalate.” Seth backed away, resisting the urge to touch her. “Let me take you out of here. If you don’t trust me either, if you want me to go away too—okay, I’ll drop you off and leave. I’d rather you feel safe than have you martyr yourself to become queen.”

  She pulled the robe around herself, grabbed a tissue, and started wiping off her ruined makeup. There was another bruise on her cheekbone that had been covered with foundation. “I do want your help. Promise you’ll help me.”

  “Anything,” Seth said.

  “Go in front of the council and tell them you’re God. Endorse my wedding. Ensure I get the votes I need. That’s the best way to protect my interests right now.”

  “Your interests?” Seth asked. “What about you?”

  The door to the hallway started to open. Voices echoed into the bedroom. It was Marion’s people, presumably on the way to finish dressing her for the wedding.

  “Serve me, Seth,” Marion said. “You said you’d do anything, and this is what I want.”

  He wasn’t going to defy her. He’d do what she asked, because he was better than Konig. He owed her that much.

  But it still hurt to phase out of the room before Marion’s entourage could see him.

  19

  The final preparations took little time. Marion was healed by a sidhe with a few twists of magic. Then she stepped into her wedding dress and the bodice was cinched tightly. Metal jingled softly as the toggles for her dress were pressed into place. Cold diamonds kissed her chest. The roots of her hair were yanked.

  Her schedule was running through her mind as though shouted by someone at her back, trying to drown out every other thought, and every warm-eyed, scar-lipped face gazing at her.

  She had to do a lot of photos before the ceremony. Hours of them.

  And then…the vote.

  Jibril would deliver the vote as proxy, but Marion would accomplish nothing else while that was happening. She’d be getting photographed, surrounded by attendants and the Raven Knights, when she found out if Konig would
remain prince.

  They would win. Seth was going to stand up for her, so they had no alternative but to win.

  She’d be married by the time night fell.

  Marion snapped out of the depths of thought when her attendants began murmuring. Several stepped away to bow.

  The Onyx Queen entered.

  She was dressed in darker colors than usual to provide contrast to the bride in white: rich ambers touched with ruby. Strings of pearls had been replaced by roses in her hair. A gold crescent dangled between her eyebrows.

  Violet carried a large box in her arms like a baby as she approached, smiling for Marion. The expression didn’t touch her empty eyes.

  “Your Highness.” Marion curtsied.

  “Queens don’t bow to one another.” Violet reached up to touch her curls. The smile softened around the edges, becoming more genuine. “You look lovely.”

  Your son hit me.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I’ve brought a final accent piece for your wedding dress,” Violet said. “I think you’ll like this one.” She lifted the lid of the box to reveal Marion’s bow nestled alongside her quiver. They glimmered with new enchantments. “I cast spells of unbreaking on these myself.”

  The magic was far more elaborate than anything Marion could dream of casting. People would have paid their life’s savings for such enchantments and still been unable to afford them.

  “It’s beautiful,” Marion said.

  “And intimidating. I want everyone to know that you can defend yourself. May I?”

  Marion nodded. Violet slung the bow over her back and used the belt to hang the quiver. Everything was white and bejeweled. They matched the wedding dress surprisingly well.

  “I’m a mage,” Marion said. “I don’t need physical weapons, in theory. I like it, though.” She was weirdly touched by the gesture. It was the one element in her entire wedding that seemed tailored to Marion rather than the sidhe in general.

  Violet clasped her hands. “Remember this: Blessing as it may be, marriage is a battlefield. You’ll have to fight to become better than your nature. Konig will have to do the same. If you win, you’ll be rewarded in partnership for the rest of your life.”