by Tara West
The dragon king and his followers fell to their knees with thuds that shook the stagnant air, hot rage simmering in their eyes.
“You dare bring a siren into Elysan?” the dragon king complained, though he didn’t raise his head.
“She is fae, too,” Ladon said, turning his back on him and swishing his barbed tail in the dragon king’s face.
Serah looked over her shoulder as her mates flew to the gate. She was not reassured by the murderous look in King Tormung’s eyes. Even if they found their eggs, there was no guarantee they would escape Elysan once the enraged dragon king caught them.
THADDEUS RELUCTANTLY followed Katherine to their shared chamber, a low but spacious cave with a big bed of furs in the center. This cave had once been his alone, but after the fateful night he’d finally surrendered to her persuasion, she’d moved in the next day, stacking her makeup and perfumes alongside his medicines and potions. Since then he’d had no peace, but it wasn’t as if he’d had peace before—not after discovering the fate of his family.
He stopped short when he saw the pretty witch slave was in his room, bent over his bed while straightening the furs, her round bottom stirring a feeling inside him he’d best ignore. She wasn’t tall and Amazonian like Katherine, but small, almost pixie-like, with short, purple hair.
Master Eagleheart captured the witch shortly after Thaddeus had woken from his coma, much to Katherine’s dismay. Apparently she was a senior member of Nathaniel Goldenwand’s Arcane Army. For that reason alone, Thaddeus should have burned her to a crisp, but whenever he looked into her large, violet eyes, he felt only sadness, not anger. Something else he was loath to acknowledge, a longing for her, as if she was his fated mate. He knew that couldn’t be true. His fated mate wouldn’t work for a prejudiced and evil mage. His true mate had probably been killed by Goldenwand, along with his brothers.
More than once he’d wanted to ask the witch why she followed Goldenwand, but she wouldn’t have been able to answer him. Katherine had muted her with a spell to prevent her from casting a curse on any of them. She was known as the “Curse Killer” to her peers. The thought made his blood boil, and he wondered if the witch had murdered his brothers. He didn’t even know her name. Katherine called her “witch” and “slave,” and he didn’t speak to her at all, lest he lose his temper.
But he didn’t mind her presence. She turned out to be an excellent potion brewer, mixing his pain elixir each day and his sleeping draught each night.
“Witch,” Katherine slurred, waving to the slave, “my mate has had a trying day and needs a potion to soothe him.”
She solemnly nodded, casting a furtive glance at Thaddeus before crossing to the dresser.
“Hurry up,” Katherine snapped, sticking out her foot and tripping the witch.
The girl flailed and grunted when she hit the stone floor on one knee.
Thaddeus winced when a loud crack resonated through the cavern. Had Katherine broken the girl’s bone? Standing, the witch blinked back tears and hobbled to the dresser.
Thaddeus wanted to berate Katherine for her treatment of the slave, but he knew she’d call him a fool and he’d never hear the end of it.
He pretended disinterest instead and flopped on the bed. “I need nothing, Katherine,” he said, slipping out of his boots.
“Nonsense.” She let out a grating, bird-like squawk. “It’s clear you’re sick.”
Yes, sick of Katherine, and especially sick of her calling him her mate. He’d never asked her to be his mate. Dragons were supposed to have a special bond with their intended woman, and he felt nothing for Katherine but annoyance at best, repulsion at worst.
“It’s clear your coddling does nothing to help,” he groused.
She turned on him with flames dancing in her narrowed eyes. Cocking both hands on her hips, she stalked up to him like a hawk cornering a mouse. “When we found you in this cursed forest after your brothers had discarded your corpse, it was my father who brought you back to life, taking the heart of one of his griffins, his own child, and putting it in your chest so that you might live again.” She pointed a talon-like finger at him while her nose shifted into a bird beak and then back again. “I nursed you day and night until you were able to stand again on your own.” Her voice became more shrill with each word. “All of the sacrifices my father and I made for you, and you complain about coddling?”
Backing up with a sneer, he slapped her hand away. “I know what you and your father have done for me, because you remind me every bloody day.” He’d regret fighting with her later. She always made him regret any time he stood up to her, but he was tired of her lectures and tantrums.
“I see.” She stared at him a long moment, probably trying to decide where to bury his body. “Then perhaps I should leave you to wallow in your self-pity and misery.”
“If only you would.” She was bluffing. She never left him alone.
Her lips twisted into a scowl. “Maybe I will.” But she didn’t move, no doubt waiting for him to beg her to stay. He’d pay for it later, but he desperately needed her gone. Her presence was like toxic gas, depleting all the breathable air around him.
With a huff she turned up her chin. “Very well. Let us leave, witch.”
In the middle of mixing his sleeping potion, the slave looked at Katherine like a frightened child. Thaddeus’s heart ached for the witch. He imagined she’d been forced into Nathaniel Goldenwand’s army or bewitched to explain her working with the vile man. She’d never given him a cross look or glare, and though he’d never heard her cry, he’d caught her with tear-stained cheeks on more than one occasion. She didn’t strike him as a killer.
“She can stay,” he said, keeping his tone as dull and disinterested as possible for fear of provoking Katherine’s jealousy.
“What?” Katherine gasped, a hand flying to her heart as if he’d struck her with a verbal spear. “Why her and not me?”
“She doesn’t pester me like you do,” he drawled, not daring to look in the witch’s direction.
“Have you forgotten that because of her kind, the shifter race has been annihilated?”
“I have not forgotten.” His shoulders sank as he feared losing his battle with Katherine. “You remind me of that daily, too.”
Much to his relief and dismay, she spun on her heel and stormed off. He thought of the myriad ways she would punish him later for their quarrel and inwardly cringed.
No sooner had she gone than the purple-haired witch was at his side, holding his goblet of sleeping potion.
He reached for it, shocked when she pulled back, sloshing some of the liquid on the floor. “What is it?” he asked, confused by her behavior.
The mute witch pointed to the goblet, then to his chest, pantomiming an urgent message.
“I don’t understand.”
She pointed to the goblet again, then mimed stabbing him.
“Are you telling me this potion is poison?”
She eagerly nodded, then grunted, clutching her gut as if she’d been punched. She slowly straightened, sweat dripping down her brow.
“Are you all right?”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Who would poison me?”
She closed her eyes, her face scrunching up tight.
“Please.” He stood and reached for her small hand, pleased when she didn’t pull away, then was shocked at the spark between them.
She blinked at him, her violet eyes shining like gems.
“Is it Katherine?” he asked.
She nodded, looking horror-struck, and dropped the goblet to the floor. Potion splattered everywhere. She collapsed in his arms, and he lowered her to the bed.
“Are you okay?”
She gaped up at the ceiling, mouth moving without sound.
What would make her react that way? A curse, a nagging voice told him. Inflicted by Katherine should her slave ever betray her.
The witch placed a delicate, trembling hand on the
mechanical device strapped to his heart. She ripped it off, then fell back, convulsing like a fish out of water.
Horrified, he jumped back and stared at the machine that had kept him alive, preventing his body from rejecting the transplanted griffin heart. Did the witch mean to kill him?
Falling on the bed beside her, he turned the metal over in his hands, feeling an odd tingling in his extremities. The witch continued to convulse, and there was nothing he could do for her—not without his heart monitor. He sat and waited for death, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over him.
After several interminable heartbeats, he was still alive, and the witch’s convulsions ceased. Then his memories slowly returned to him. Master Eagleheart and Katherine had found him in the forest, barely clinging to life after the injury to his heart. He’d tried to fly away, but the griffins had restrained him. Then Master Eagleheart had put a tau stone around his neck, chanting a spell that prevented him from shifting.
He remembered being strapped to a table, begging Eagleheart to let him go, and the mage’s cool indifference to his pleas. Eagleheart hadn’t saved him. He’d imprisoned him!
Horrified, he threw the mechanical heart monitor across the room and a sense of relief washed over him when it shattered in several pieces. The heart monitor had been tainted with a memory curse, tricking him into trusting Eagleheart and Katherine. How much of this past year had been a lie?
The witch rolled over with a groan. She’d been cursed, too, no doubt. Probably a hex of excruciating pain that would activate if she ever helped Thaddeus learn the truth.
Worrying that Katherine would be back any moment, he made quick work of cleaning up the spilled medicine and shattered monitor. He sat by the witch and rubbed her arms until she twitched. He continued massaging her until she came back to life. Sitting up, she hugged herself, rocking and crying.
When he heard the echo of Katherine’s footsteps down the hall, he jumped up with alarm.
“Can you stand?” he asked the witch, holding a hand down to her. “We don’t want her to know you were in pain.”
Nodding, she took his hand and rose from the bed as if she was a ninety-year-old grandmother with arthritis. He prayed to the goddess Katherine wouldn’t notice, because it seemed the witch was right. Katherine had been poisoning him... but why? What would she gain by making him sick?
SERAH’S HEART BEAT in her ears as the growling behind them grew louder. She and her mates were at the gate, unable to figure out how to get inside. Draque had already tried to fly over it and banged his head on an invisible wall. The king’s dragons had broken into sibilant laughter. Her spell hadn’t worn off yet. They were still huddled close to the ground, watching them like hungry cats staring at a fishbowl. It was beyond creepy.
“Stand aside,” Teju said and shifted back into his mortal skin. Whipping out his wand, he aimed it at the gate. “Apertum!” Sparks flew and the gate budged about an inch before clanging shut. He stared at his wand, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know how to open it.”
You must do it, Thelix urged.
So nice of you to show up, Serah thought to her inner siren. And why me?
Because you are fae.
She certainly didn’t feel like a fae. For many years she’d thought of herself as a siren witch. She knew very little of the fae, except that they thought very highly of themselves. Then there was her obvious lack of magical talents. Her wand rarely did as she commanded.
You don’t need your wand, Thelix said. The fae don’t use them.
While Teju banged his wand against his palm like he was trying to fix a broken fuse, she closed her eyes and mumbled the spell he’d used. “Apertum.”
With a subtle hiss, the gate slowly opened. Blue mist poured through the portal and spilled on their feet.
Teju held up his wand with a smile. “I did it!”
Serah was about to set him straight when Thelix said, Don’t embarrass him. He’s the best at licking pussy.
Chapter Four
AFTER PULLING UP A map with his wand, Teju summoned a GPS, ordering it to take them to Lord Phoenixfire’s residence. Deciding it was best they didn’t alarm the fae, the brothers shifted back into human form and walked with Serah through the streets of Elysan, following directions from Teju’s wand.
Serah had never before seen such beauty, so impressive even Thelix had been stunned into silence. The cobblestone streets were paved with gold. She recognized some of the ornate palaces and realized the posh third realm town of Sawran had modeled itself after Elysan, but its beauty didn’t come close to this. Multicolored flowers hung from weeping branches on ethereal silver trees; cotton candy clouds dissected brilliant blue and purple skies; the windows in a multitude of grand residences reflected prisms of color, bathing the entire city in rainbows.
The fae realm certainly was gorgeous, which could account for a little of the haughty fae pride her mother had warned her about. Though the fae stopped to stare at them as they wound through their city, no one questioned them or even wished them a good day, for that matter. They looked at them as if they were looking through them, with cold aloof indifference.
Her feet and calves were sore by the time they reached the palace where Brayne Nasir supposedly lived.
It was a tall purple castle with green and pink turrets, tucked away at the base of a hill. Clinging to Ladon’s hand, she felt like she was walking through a dream as they crossed a front garden alight with thousands of glowing fireflies. It took her breath away and filled her with awe, but Draque and Teju walked ahead with their wands drawn.
After walking under a high portico, Teju rang a bell that played a haunting melody. Her breath hitched when the frosted glass front doors were unlatched. Twin green-haired pixies greeted them, their buzzing wings moving in a blur.
“Welcome home, Lady Phoenixfire,” they said simultaneously, their identical smiles carving deep dimples into their rosy cheeks.
It took her a moment to realize they were speaking to her.
What in Goddess’ name are those things? Thelix jeered.
She cleared her throat when the pixies gave her an expectant look. After her dealings with her grandfather’s pixie snitch, she wasn’t fond of the miniature menaces, and these pixies reminded her of Miss Pratt, each about four feet tall with miniature bombshell figures. “Where is Lord Phoenixfire?”
“He is waiting for you in his garden,” they answered in unison.
Okay, these pixies are officially creepy. Thelix laughed.
“Show me,” she said, pushing through the door. The pixies tried to close the door on her mates, and she stuck her foot in it. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her patience growing thinner by the moment.
“Your father wishes to speak with you alone.”
“Too bad,” Draque said dryly, his eyes shifting to oblong dragon slits while steam wisped from his nostrils. “You will let us pass, or we will burn our way through.”
Both pixies fluttered back with gasps.
Thelix swooned. He can burn his way through my door any time.
Serah impatiently waved at them. “Lead the way, pixies,” she said in her siren voice.
They bolted with mousy squeaks, their wings molting glitter, making it easy for them to follow their trail.
The house was as opulent as a king’s palace, with marble tiles inlaid with gold and glowing golden candlesticks lighting the hall. Even the furniture had gold threads woven into its fine stitching.
The pixies led them through two frosted glass doors identical to those in front and into a garden so thick with foliage and flowers of every variety, they nearly blotted out the sun.
Brayne was sitting in a gazebo on a tiny island in the center of a pond. A cherub fountain spewed rainbow-hued water. Beside him was a bassinet in the shape of a swan.
Thelix gasped. That flaming pile of troll turds!
Ignoring Draque calling her back, she raced across the white wood bridge to the gazebo.
Brayne jumped to his feet, holding out his arms, but she ignored him, rushing to the bassinet, tears streaming as she rubbed each egg, overjoyed to feel the warmth radiating from the buzzing shells. Brayne stood there with an expectant look in his eyes, arms still held wide. Opening her arms as if reciprocating a hug, she decked him in the face. He fell on the bench, shock etched into his features.
Good call! Thelix cheered.
Her voice dropped to a deep siren rumble that rattled the planks under her feet. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on my babies again!”
He rubbed his jaw while blood pooled around his mouth and dripped down his chin.
Teju helped Ladon put the eggs in his sling. She took Ladon’s hand, and they followed Draque and Teju back across the bridge.
“Serah, wait!” Brayne called, racing after them.
She didn’t dare turn around. Squeezing Ladon’s hand tighter, she picked up the pace.
“Serah, please!” Brayne cried, his watery voice sounding so pitiful, she fought the urge to punch him again.
A flame-haired child blocked their path back to the manor. She stood under a trellis of overgrown ivy in a garden with too many species of flowers to count.
“Hello,” she said, clutching a calico kitten. Despite her wide eyes and gap-toothed smile, there was something in her amber eyes that made her look wise beyond her years. Was this the sister Brayne had spoken of?
“Hello,” Draque said. Patting her head, he gently nudged her out of the way.
“Are you leaving?” she asked, blinking at them. “Father said my sister was coming to play with me.”
Releasing Ladon’s hand, Serah knelt in front of the girl, searching her facial features for similarities, disappointed when she saw none. “I’m not staying. I’m sorry.” This child, with skin so pale it was almost translucent and deep circles under her eyes, looked as frail as a flower trying to survive the winter frost. “I have to return home.” She tapped her little sister’s chin.
