“Well, what’re we waiting for then?” Jacob says eagerly. “Tickets?”
With a nod, we step forward and jump.
Chapter 32
Eve
This isn’t Hell.
Instead, I’m back in the Vale, although with the dark tinge to what I’m seeing, I can tell this actually is Hell . . . or at least I’m still in the portal.
Curious, I look down at my hand and concentrate, and a flicker of my Fae lightning flickers between my fingertips. “Well, that answers that particular desire,” I whisper. I look around and see a mirror and take a look at myself before sighing. “But I’m still not me.”
I look more like myself than I did before, at least. I’m in a woman’s body, but I’m a full Fae, with long platinum blonde hair and the ears. Actually, I like the ears. They’re pretty sexy. I’m dressed in a dress that I’ve seen before around the Vale, that of a servant with a light, flexible corset that pushes my breasts up and narrows my waist. It’s not kinky, but it does feel innocently sexy.
I hear footsteps approaching, and I turn around to see Cole enter the room. He’s obviously younger, though, his face unlined with the weight of centuries that I’ve come to see as the biggest tell-tale sign when it comes to the Fae. “Cole!”
He looks up, and while there’s recognition in his eyes, he doesn’t see me as me, but . . . I’m in Cole’s past. Or maybe his head, I don’t know which. Either way, he smiles, but there’s sadness behind his smile. “Gwyn, you won’t change my mind.”
“What do you mean, Cole?” I ask, tilting my head as I approach him. I reach out, and he envelops me in his arms, offering no resistance when I kiss him. “Please talk with me. I’ve missed it the past few days.”
Cole’s hand strokes my back, and he inhales deeply from my hair, his body shuddering. “I wish I could, Gwyn. But I can’t. I’m leaving the Vale.”
“What?” I ask, shocked. It takes me a moment before I realize what time I’m in. “Lorelai?”
Cole nods. “I still can’t believe what I did to her, Gwyn. They say . . . they say she’s lucky to be alive, but that cut may never heal.”
I shake my head, pushing away from him. “Cole, it wasn’t you. You were enchanted.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Cole says, stepping back. “I’m supposed to be the next Lord of the Vale. How can I do that when I nearly killed my own sister?”
“But, Cole—”
“I’m sorry, Gwyn,” he says, tears forming in his eyes. “I know we’re close. A lot closer than I’m supposed to be with a comfort girl. I never saw you as that though.”
I swallow, nodding. “I know. Cole . . . I love you.”
The first tear falls from his eyes and trembles on the ridge of his cheek before dissolving and rolling down his skin as he strokes my cheek. “You were my first, Gwyn. I’ll never forget you.”
“Where will you go?” I ask, already knowing the answer. “Please, Cole, I can—”
“You’re needed here. Your family, your mother, they need you. Please, Gwyn. Who knows? Maybe in a century or two . . .”
I shake my head and take his hands, kissing his knuckles. “No, there won’t be. Go with love, Cole. Find the happiness you’re missing and the love you deserve. I will always love you though.”
Cole nods and pulls me in for another kiss. Before his lips touch mine, though, the world dissolves and I feel myself shift. It’s different from the flash, although the effect is the same.
When I can focus again, I see that I’m in a beautiful countryside manor, the wind warmer than it was in the Vale. I try to figure out where I am, but I don’t see anything until I go to a window and see Lunare in the distance, the central city rising like a jewel over the ruinous outskirts. It’s springtime, and I’m still a girl, at least, but I’m dressed a lot differently than I was before.
This time, I’m in sort of a skirt and poet blouse combination, a little old-fashioned but considering that I could be anywhere in time, I guess that my clothing’s appropriate for whenever I am.
“I must be getting the hang of this time and space travel gig,” I murmur to myself as I step back from the window. “I’m no longer freaked out by the idea.”
A man on a horse starts to ride by the house, and my heart leaps when I see it’s Noah. He looks younger too . . . and his hair’s long! He looks even more like some sort of pale Greek god. Apollo has nothing on him in terms of physique or good looks as he passes by.
“Noah!” I call out the window, waving, and Noah looks up, waving but not replying as he hurries down the road in front of the house. I look where he’s riding and see a beautiful farm estate, like a country manor from a thousand years ago. A stone wall surrounds the building, but still, the main house vaults above it, pure white and gleaming in the sunlight. “Whoa.”
I turn and run out the door of the room I’m in, but before I can even get halfway down the hallway I find myself in, a man’s voice calls out. “L’Sandrya!”
I turn my head, and an older Fae with a tinge of swell to his stomach emerges from the other end of the hallway. Seeing nobody else around, I stop, tilting my head. “Yes?”
“Yes?” he repeats, rolling his eyes. “You know, daughter, just because I had you at the ripe old age of seven hundred doesn’t mean my doting on you is an excuse for disrespect. Especially with tonight.”
“Apologies . . . Father,” I reply, trying to play along. This is harder than it seems. I don’t know a thing about what’s going on. At least I know my name this time. L’Sandrya. I’ve heard worse. “I just saw Noah riding by and was going out to see him.”
“That boy . . . you’ll have a chance to see him later,” the man says sharply. “You know how his family feels about us!”
“I . . . I’m sorry, Father,” I reply quickly. “I didn’t think—”
“Which is exactly why you must be careful around him,” my father says. “L’Sandrya, Noah might be a good boy, but his mother and father are some of the most brainwashed Faeledd I’ve ever met. I have enough problems that you’re buying that . . . that horseshit!”
I stand shocked, my mouth dropping open as I think about what my ‘father’ is saying. Me, a Fae Supremacist? “Father—”
“No!” my father says, holding up his hand. “L’Sandrya, you are above the age of adulthood. I know you can make up your own mind. But it pains me, deep in my heart, to think that the lessons your mother and I tried to teach you could be so easily discarded just because a handsome young man wants to court you. I do not care about his family or how much they kiss Cassina’s bejeweled ass. Wealth comes and goes. Power comes and goes, especially in these times when the demons seem to pierce the Veil like it’s so much tissue paper. But integrity, honesty? My daughter, those can never be taken from you. They can only be given away.”
My father turns to walk away, sighing. At the door to what looks like some large room, he pauses, looking back at me. “Do as you must. But remember, if Hunther or Delilah Greensward ever learn of your great-grandmother’s heritage, they will not look so kindly on their son seeing you, regardless of how . . . pure your appearance might seem.”
My father leaves, and I ponder what he just said. I remember Noah telling me about his upbringing and the ideas that his parents tried to fill his head with. It felt like a twisted mirror of what I felt when I was on the NHPD and harbored my own negative views about so-called ‘Paras.’
Of course, finding out that I was the most Para of Paras possible is a good splash of cold water in my face, and to fall in love with my five beautiful Fae Guardians . . . yeah, confronting this particular issue again is not something I’m looking forward to.
I head outside into a courtyard that’s grassy and beautiful. I almost feel like I’m in a magical Wuthering Heights or something similar, and Emma Watson’s going to come around the corner any minute to tell me about Squire Witherspoon or something over the hill, followed by Gandalf looking for Bilbo.
I walk around the grounds, nodding
from time to time as two or three people come by, looking like they’re house servants, but I’m not too sure. I do notice that one of them is human, and another might be a halfling. That’s harder for me to discern.
What is this? I ask myself as I sit down on a chair and take a moment to think. Before, with Cole, it was sudden. I was stepping through the dark portal, then I was there, and what felt like only five minutes later, he’s telling me . . . well, Gwyn . . . goodbye. Then shift and I’m here.
What is this? I repeat, and deep inside me, I hear something whisper back.
A gift.
A gift? And what are you?
I am the darkness.
I can’t help it. Inwardly, I chuckle. And I am vengeance. I am the night. I am Batman!
The dark voice in my mind laughs softly. Something like that. And no, I am not your father.
Well, that I already knew from the sound in my head. The Dark Rider sounds different. So if you’re not him, what are you? And why give me a gift?
I am that which all denizens of the dark draw power from. Normally, I’m content to let you mortals play your games, but I felt you needed a reminder of why you are putting yourself, literally, through Hell.
Before I can ask any more questions, my father sticks his head out of a window on the second floor of our home. “L’Sandrya! You should get dressed if you’re going to go up to the Greensward home for dinner this evening!”
I wave, hurrying inside where a servant’s already laid out a summer gown for me, not as beautiful as the ones I wore at the Vale but still silky and breathtaking. Just as I finish the last bow, I hear familiar bootsteps outside and a deep, surprisingly cheerful voice. “Hello, the house!”
I hurry downstairs to see my father and Noah conversing, Noah being polite as my father tries to do the same, both of them stopping when I arrive. “L’Sandrya, you look beautiful,” Noah says honestly, his eyes glowing with the love I’ve gotten used to seeing associated with the name Eve. “Shall we?”
I nod, giving my father a kiss on the cheek before taking Noah’s arm. L’Sandrya is taller than Eve, and it’s a bit easier to not feel like I’m hanging off a massive set of monkey bars as we walk up the road. His long, flowing hair is different, though, and I almost want to reach over and run my fingers through the long locks that hang to his shoulder blades.
“So,” Noah asks as soon as we’re out of earshot, “is your father still worried I’m going to turn you into a full-blown Faeledd?”
I want to chuckle, but it’s hard to keep up the pretense. “Noah, I’m worried myself. I’m not sure I can agree with what your parents are saying.”
Noah stops, giving me a surprised look. “Lizzie, that’s why I have you. To help me make up my own mind.”
I stop, stunned by his admission. “What do you mean?”
Noah smiles softly, and with a massive hand, he strokes my cheek softly with a touch that hasn’t been scarred yet by four hundred years of military service but is still smooth, unworn, and untempered yet. “My dear Lizzie, my parents have spent two decades filling my mind with knowledge. I’ve read everything there is to read, from mathematics to philosophy to science. Most of it, of course, being philosophy. They feel that for me to be truly Faeledd, I need to not only know what they feel but what the other side thinks as well. And so I’ve studied. I can give you twenty different justifications to make love and twenty different justifications to make war. But in the end, it comes down to the heart. And that . . . that, I’m still trying to fathom for myself. So until that time, I have you to guide my heart and to make the right decisions.”
I swallow, looking up into those eyes already marked by knowledge but not yet holding the wisdom of the man I will come to know and love. “And the Lunarian Guard?”
Noah purses his lips, turning with me to look at the rising jewel of inner Lunare. “When the time comes, I’ll do my duty. The Queen does need those willing to serve her. And a century or two of service for a noble title? Short for us, yes?”
I swallow, tears forming in my eyes as I see the infection in his mind that’ll take centuries to purge . . . and the friendship of a man already on his way here from the Vale, if my timing is correct.
“What if you enter the Queen’s Guard?” I ask. “It’s well known that you cannot be with someone if you are part of her personal detail.”
Noah chuckles and turns back toward his estate. “The odds of my becoming a Queen’s Guard are pretty small. Come on, Lizzie, let’s not waste our time with what might be. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.”
I go to open my mouth, to tell him that maybe he does need to worry about it, when . . .
Shift.
Chapter 33
Eve
Are you learning yet, Princess?
I blink, shaking my head. I hate that title.
Yet it is yours. Do not worry. I won’t delay you too much longer. I know you need to move on.
Say, I ask, what is happening to my Guardians?
The darkness chuckles. Nothing at all. Time has no meaning here or in the Moonstone.
Wait, you know about that?
The laughter this time is uproarious and makes my ears ring. Of course. Now, no more questions.
Shift.
The first thing that I hear when I can feel ground underneath my feet again is sheep, and an instant later, the rich, organic smell of the animals hits me in the nose.
“Whoa,” I mutter, shaking my head. I’m lying on a bed of some sort, and when I sit up, I can hear the scurry of little feet that I honestly don’t want to track down.
Leaving the crude hut that I find myself in, I’m struck by a view that, despite the dark haze that seems to be the lens through which the darkness is bringing all of this to me, is nearly as beautiful as the Fae realm.
Except that I can sense, deep in my bones, that I’m not in the Fae realm. Below me in a valley is a long, craggy looking lake, and rising up around it are fields of deep green grass and rich-looking fields. Rising out of the mist in the distance is something that looks like a crude castle, maybe just a tower of some sort, I’m not sure.
Near the hut is the source of the sound and smell, a flock of a few dozen sheep who seem to be quite content munching on the clover growing nearby, their shaggy coats far different from the fluffy sheep I’m used to seeing. “Well, don’t you guys look content?”
“If they knew the beauty they were looking at, they’d be far more excited,” a familiar voice says behind me. The accent’s stronger, but I’ve heard it before, and I turn, grinning as a familiar face emerges from behind the hut. He’s so young, barely in his teens, but he’s still got that same smirk, that same perfect compactness to his form, and that same grace as he approaches. “Moyna, you look like you’re seeing a ghost.”
“It’s . . . sorry, I guess I’ve missed you, Jacob,” I reply, trying not to laugh as he approaches in his kilt. This isn’t the formal dress kilt of our Declaration Dance but muddier, humbler, the colors muted and the fabric worn. He looks authentic, youthful, maybe not even in his twenties . . . and a true Highlander.
Jacob’s lips twitch in that familiar way he does when he’s thinking something naughty, and I laugh as he pulls me into a tight hug, lifting me in his powerful arms before lowering me slowly, kissing his way up my neck. For the first time, I’m significantly shorter than him, and it feels good to look up into his eyes. “Lassie, it’s only been a single evening since I saw you. I canna believe you risked that with your mother and father leaving this morning.”
“What can I say?” I ask as I lay my head on his chest. It’s not quite as muscled as it will be, but it’s still Jacob, just younger . . . and smellier. “I needed you.”
“Aye, and I needed you,” he says. “Moyna, I know you asked me to not speak of it. But I cannot help myself. I want you to join me.”
“Seriously?” I ask, shocked. “Jacob, what about—”
“I do not care what your parents say!” Jacob growls, releasing me
. “Moyna, I may not be of your clan, but I love you! What does it matter that I do not have a clan to call my own?”
The pain in his voice is clear, and I feel bad. I want to tell him that it’ll be okay, that he’ll eventually find a clan and more importantly, a family, but I can’t. He turns, walking away before circling back, his face written in lines of agony and grief. “Jacob, it’s not that.”
“What, then? That I’m not baptized in the church? That I don’t offer up the same alms to that charlatan in a caftan that you do?”
I shake my head, reaching out and taking his hands. “Jacob, I love you. I don’t care about any of that. But . . . aren’t we a little young for this sort of talk?”
Jacob stops, blinking in surprise before laughing. “Moyna, what are you talking about? You’re a woman. I’m surprised your father didn’t marry you off when you were still thirteen. Even then, you were the most beautiful woman between here and Edinburgh. Speaking of which . . .”
Jacob reaches into the folds of his kilt, and from out of some hidden pocket, he pulls a carved wooden figure. It’s beautiful, graceful, and very clearly not something formed by human hands. Still, my hands tremble as I accept it, and I hold it up, marveling at the intricate detail and shape. It’s a girl, I can clearly tell, but after a moment, I smile, looking at him wryly. “This isn’t from Edinburgh. Looks a little . . . Lunarian?”
Jacob’s face pales, and he gapes at me for a long time. “Where did you hear that word? I’ve never—”
Before he can say anything, a thundering of horses’ hooves fills the air, so loud that even my sheep scatter. Coming over the field are a dozen men on horseback, led by a large, bearded man with a claymore over his shoulder. “Stop right there, outcast!”
Jacob curses under his breath but raises his hands. “Angus MacRae, a pleasure to see you this fine morning. Your steeds look like they’re in fine shape.”
Guardians of Moonlight: A Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (Guardians of the Fae Book 3) Page 20
