Envy

by Katie May

  Shrugging a broad shoulder, he amended, “Does it matter what I knew? You should be grateful, little girl, that I gave him his legs back. It took years to find all of these ingredients and convince Justin to create the spell.”

  Justin. It took me a second to realize that was the Mage King’s name. Bash’s father’s name.

  Dair had gone rigid in my arms, his muscles flexing and tensing. I rubbed his back, attempting to soothe the tension away.

  “Show your gratitude,” Tavvy said stiffly. He moved to stand beside me, and I felt his finger caress a pathway down my arm. I shivered, but not in pleasure. Disgust curdled in my stomach at having a hand on me that wasn’t one of my mates’.

  “We figured today would be an opportune time to test this potion,” the Mermaid King continued, a wicked glint to his eyes. I couldn’t quite understand the reason behind that emotion. “Since Dair and my sons will be accompanying you.”

  “They will?” I blurted before I could stop myself. I had known Dair would come with me, but I hadn’t expected the others to come as well.

  Tavvy’s smile was predatory, a Nightmare out for the kill.

  “Of course,” he answered. The tips of his fingers brushed the sides of my breasts, and both Dair and I stiffened. I immediately pressed myself further against Dair, willing him to calm down. This, his legs, was a gift I had no doubt would be ripped away the second the King felt like it.

  Fighting his brother would just fuel his already vindictive fire.

  “Thank you, my King, for your gift,” I managed to spit out through gritted teeth. Those were words I never wanted to say to such a despicable man, but if they gave Dair his legs back, I would say them repeatedly.

  When Dair continued to stare blankly over my head, at his father, I nudged his stomach. A muttered “thanks” left his lips.

  What was going on with him?

  I had thought he would be happy, overjoyed, to have his legs back. Why was he looking as if he had been punched repeatedly in the face?

  As we moved to exit the room, I grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop, waiting for the others to pass us. Both Tavvy and the King met my eyes when they passed. The King's expression was smug while Tavvy’s was...lustful.

  “You okay?” I asked Dair in a whisper as soon as his family was out of earshot. He refused to meet my inquiring gaze, despite the fact I knew he could feel it probing his forehead.

  “I’m fine.” His voice was resigned. Tired. Weak.

  “Dair...you’re walking,” I stated, awed. With him on two feet, I realized that he was tall, nearly a foot taller than me. I wanted nothing more than to climb him like a tree, claim those pouty lips of his, wrap my legs around him...

  “I’m walking,” he agreed, subdued. With a heavy sigh, he finally glanced down at me, meeting my eyes. Whatever he saw in my face had his own expression softening. His hand snatched a blonde curl, wrapping it around his finger. Another sigh. “Z...”

  “Don’t,” I warned. “This is something to be happy over. Something to celebrate.” My throat closed with emotion, and I stood on my tiptoes to press my lips to his skin. I couldn’t quite reach his lips, so I brushed them against the hollow of his throat instead. He shuddered delicately, arms wrapping around my stomach. “You’re walking. You’re fucking walking.”

  I wanted to scream it to the world. From the highest rooftops and mountains, from the lowest oceans and valleys. Happiness bubbled up inside of me, unlike anything I had ever felt before.

  Dair met my excitement with a smile of his own. That smile turned from tentative to luminescent as his hands tugged me even closer, my body molding against his.

  “I’m walking.” His voice was dazed. “I’m walking.”

  His lips crushed mine in a bruising kiss. Possessiveness exuded from his body in waves as he held me to him. One hand cupped the back of my head while the other snagged my ass, kneading it.

  Pulling back, we were both breathing heavily. I knew my face was as flushed as his.

  “Go,” he urged me, swatting my butt. “Go say goodbye to your mates.”

  “They’re not coming?” I asked, the amusement instantly waning. I didn’t know why I was surprised, but a part of me had expected them to join us. Join me. Their absence was going to kill me if just the mere thought pierced my heart.

  “Some of them are,” he assured me, noting my rising panic. “But not all of them can sneak away.” When I opened my mouth to ask for more details, he held up his hands in a placating, universal “I don’t know everything, so don’t attack me” gesture.

  Pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, I allowed another smile to break through my apathetic facade. “I’m really happy right now.”

  It took him a second to answer. His eyes were trained on something on the ceiling but they lowered after a moment, meeting my gaze. A tiny smile flicked his lips up. “Me too.”

  With one last kiss, I glanced at the clock hanging overhead. One hour to find my mates.

  And I knew which one I was starting with.

  TWENTY-TWO

  RYLAND

  I knocked once on the plain white door. Silence greeted my announcement of arrival before a warm voiced carried.

  “Come in.”

  Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I stepped into a room as familiar to me as my own bedroom.

  Father’s office was cluttered - that was the only word adequate enough. Having spent years traveling when he was a prince, he had procured quite a collection. Ornately carved wood interwoven with threads hung from the ceiling. Dream catchers, he had told me. Created by humans and spelled by Mages at a time when the two races had worked together. The shelves were adorned with books, all varying in age and wear. Dust coated the spines and permeated the air.

  There were a few statues on his desk along with a framed picture, something that was called a yo-yo, and a coffee cup that said Taste the Rainbow.

  The shadows were pulled away from my father’s face to reveal his dark skin, the color of burnt porcelain, and golden eyes. His buzzed black hair only accentuated his square jaw and arresting features.

  “Father,” I said in way of greeting. I rescinded my own hold on the shadows, allowing my face to peer through. Dad looked up from where he was bent over a stack of papers, muttering.

  Over his shoulder, an immense map of the territories hung. The Capital was directly in the middle with smaller human communities scattered around it. These communities were not recognized by the powers that be, but I knew for a fact that Z had lived in one of them, just between the Capital and the Incubus Kingdom.

  In a circle around the Capital, the seven kingdoms sat. There was no rhyme or reason for their placement, except for the fact that it had been decreed by the original sins. Or something like that.

  I had never been a particular fan of history or geography. Still, my eyes zeroed in on the Mermaid Kingdom, nestled between the Shifter Kingdom and Vampire one. It was nothing more than a splattering of islands inside a large, salt-water ocean. It by far had the least amount of land compared to the others.

  “What are you working on?” I asked, finally directing my attention back to my father. His head was still bent over his latest project, indistinguishable muttering escaping his parted lips. At my words, he snapped his head up and widened his eyes.

  “I didn’t see you there, boy.”

  “You invited me inside,” I pointed out, amusedly.

  He waved a hand in the air as if to say let bygones be bygones.

  “What do you need?” He finally looked away from his stack of papers, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. He was muscular from long days in the gym...and my mother’s consistent harping about his weight. The one time he had grown a beer belly, my mom never let him hear the end of it.

  “Any new information?” I asked. I hated how desperate that one question was. How pleading.

  Father’s eyes dimmed slightly, a curtain being drawn closed. He shook his head once, a
nd it felt as if he had punched me in the face.

  “Only what I told you before. They’re up to something. This task isn’t what it appears to be.” His lip curled up distastefully. “Your mate is going to have to be extra careful.”

  I gave him a decisive head bob, but my mind was already wandering. If what my dad said was true, and I thoroughly believed it was, Z was in danger. The task the Mermaid King had chosen for her was designed for her to fail.

  Designed for her to die.

  The thought had me clenching my fists and grinding my jaw against the onslaught of emotion.

  With a heavy sigh, Father glanced back at his desk. He looked tired, disheveled, and unlike the impeccably dressed and put together man I knew.

  “I don’t know what else to say,” he admitted tersely. “I don’t know exactly what they have planned...but I would keep an eye on her, son.” There was a short pause as he grabbed a pen, scribbling something on a ledger before glancing back up. His eyes were soft in what most would’ve considered a hard, glacial face. “Does she make you happy?”

  The question took me by surprise, a physical blow that had me staggering back a step. My hand steadily unclenched, and my muscles relaxed. Thoughts of Z no longer aggravated me, worried me, but instead brought about a long forgotten sense of peace. I tried to keep the dopey smiles to a minimum though, and instead gave my father a brisk nod, face solemn.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s good. You need some happiness...” Father trailed off as his eyes narrowed on the slip of paper. “That doesn’t make any sense? It should be less than that...”

  As he began his usual mutterings, I realized I was excused. When I was younger, I had found his constant chatter embarrassing and confusing. Now, I only found it endearing to see the old man talk to himself as he sorted through a particularly hard problem.

  I waited a moment longer, to see if he would once again acknowledge me, before slipping out of his office.

  My thoughts traveled to what he had told me...or the lack of what he had said. I tried not to feel irritated, but it bled through anyway. How was I supposed to protect Z when I knew nothing about the threat?

  Fuming, lost in my own thoughts, I pulled the shadows back around me and slid into my bedroom.

  The room would give Z a run for her money. Weapons lined the walls, some of them dated to the before time while others were brand new. Swords, knives, spears, and even a couple of axes. Smirking at the collection that would make my girl orgasm, I grabbed twin swords off the wall and slung them over my back. They were my preferred choice of weapon, and I could wield them like an extension of my limbs.

  There was a soft knock on my door.

  Even with a wall separating us, I could feel her presence as if she was standing beside me. I fortified the shadows around me, making sure there wasn’t a crack in my barrier, before taking a deep breath.

  I knew she would come for me, but I was hoping to delay the inevitable.

  “I know you’re in there!” Her irate voice shattered the last of my resolve, and before I realized what I was doing, I had the door pulled open.

  Z stood there, hands on her hips and a frown on her beautiful face. Like me, her body was adorned in weapons. A bow and arrow. A sword. And if I had to wager a guess, throwing knives up her sleeves and on her thighs.

  Her brow was furrowed, but I watched as it smoothed over, eyes widening in wonder.

  “What the fuck is this? And why am I only just seeing it?” She took a dazed step into the room, eyes latching on each and every weapon. She looked like a kid in a candy shop.

  Or a Bash in a sex shop, that kinky shit.

  She spun around in awe-filled wonder before turning an accusatory glare in my direction. A lesser man would’ve pissed themselves at the fury in her gaze.

  I merely prayed to the heavens that the tiny blonde female wouldn’t cut off my balls.

  “You never asked,” I replied easily.

  “You never asked,” she mocked, lowering her voice in a poor impersonation of my own. Her finger jabbed through the shadows, touching my chest. I jumped at the contact. “Why weren’t you in the throne room today?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, undeterred by her anger. I used the shadows to move around her and brought my lips to her ear. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin as I released a deep breath.

  “You’ve been weird since the whole Haven thing,” she snapped.

  Wait a minute...?

  “Who the fuck is Haven?”

  “The Gorgon,” she answered dismissively. Were we apparently giving monsters names now? Fitting, I supposed. I was a monster too. “Is this about our fight in the ballroom?”

  Once more, I called on the shadows to carry me to her other side. My hand snaked out and cupped the back of her neck, skin and hair brushing my fingers. Both were soft, like silk, and I never wanted to remove my grip.

  “Fight? Was that what we did?”

  Another shift, this time landing me right in front of her. I stared at her tiny nose, golden freckles scattered across the bridge. It wasn’t something I had ever noticed before, and for some undefinable reason, it made my cock painfully hard.

  “Did we have our first couple fight?” I teased, barely resisting the urge to lower my head and kiss each individual freckle.

  “Couple.” She snorted at the word, and I tried not to let her dismissal and rejection gut me the way it did. “We’re mates, Ryland. We should be better than this petty shit.”

  Mates.

  The leaden, miserable feeling lifted until I felt lighter. Buoyant. If she was to see my face, she would know I was smiling like an idiot.

  Mates.

  I loved how easily she had claimed me as hers.

  Mates.

  And then the rest of her words washed over me, dousing me in an icy wave.

  “Petty? You’re right. Mates shouldn’t have petty fights.” I twisted the word, made it ugly.

  Z remained in front of me, hands balled into fists and eyes capable of penetrating skin.

  “What the hell are you even going on about?”

  “Because of, as you correctly named it, a petty fight, I left you alone! You were nearly taken! Killed!” I agitatedly ran a hand through my black hair. It wasn’t as short as my father’s, but it wasn’t long by any means.

  My breathing was heavy as I faced Z down. There. That was the root of my issues.

  Because I had childishly left her, she had nearly been taken. I didn’t know if I could forgive myself for that, and I didn’t think she should forgive me either.

  Her chest heaved, eyes narrowing, before a shocked laugh escaped her. The sound was melodious but out of place in the tension filled room. I gaped at her and quirked a single brow, a gesture I knew was lost on her.

  “You guys all have big fucking heads if you blame yourselves for what Haven did.” She shook her head. “Why would you blame yourselves?” She paused suddenly, lifting a single finger into the air as if she just had a grand epiphany. “Did you send her?”

  Shock reeled through me, and I staggered. How could she think such a thing?

  “No-“

  “Did you lure me away from the party, so that I was alone?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Did you drug me with venom?”

  Understanding dawned on me of what she was trying to do, and I pursed my lips. Trying to divert the blame, to remind me that it wasn’t my fault. That I hadn’t instigated the attack. Blah. Blah. Blah.

  “I know what you’re doing,” I said aloud, and she merely batted her eyelashes innocently. “Trying to alleviate my guilt.”

  At that, her eyes rolled practically into the back of her head.

  “There’s nothing to be guilty of,” she insisted once more. The earnestness in her voice was nearly impossible to ignore. Still, I remained stubbornly silent. “All of you males have a fucking god-complex or some shit! Seriously!” She threw her hands up in the air and began to pace. I watched my mate with rap
t interest, my self-loathing steadily turning into amusement. How was she able to do that? To see the parts I hated the most in me and smooth down the jagged edges?

  Spinning to face me, she jabbed a finger accurately into the center of my chest.

  “You. Are. Not. To. Blame.” She released a pent-up breath. “Now stop all this pouting or else I’ll cut off your balls.”

  Now, there was the threatening Z I knew and loved.

  For her, only her, I allowed my shadows to recede. Unlike the first time I showed her, she didn’t recoil in disgust. Instead, fascination lit up her face like a beacon calling me home.

  Home.

  She was my fucking home.

  A small hand reached up to trace the dozens of scars marring my skin, but it didn’t shake.

  “Why do you hide?” Her voice was soft, as soft as her hand. The wing of a butterfly. A torrent of snowflakes seconds from burning away by my skin’s heat.

  “Because I’m hideous,” I whispered. For some reason, I spoke just as softly as she had. I didn’t dare speak any louder and break the tranquility we had found ourselves in.

  I hadn’t realized how much self-loathing I felt, how much doubt I felt in our relationship, until she called me out on my bullshit. Since I had first discovered she was missing to the moment I thought she was...dead...I had been adrift at sea. Guilt didn’t encapsulate what I felt just then. It was something more, something other. It was an aching pain that began just in my heart and clawed its way down my body. In those brief moments, I had to imagine a life without Z in it. A life without the titillating female. Without her snark and laugh.

  And...I didn’t want to live it.

  When I had discovered she was alive, a life preserver had been tossed to me, and I had to decide if I was going to hold on. The waves would be erratic, I knew that, but the paradise we found would be worth it.

  But because of my stubbornness at the ball, she had nearly...

  I shook my head succinctly. She was right. I wasn’t to blame for the actions of others, and if I would’ve been with her, it might’ve ended much differently. Maybe in both of our deaths.