by Bailey Dark
I bite my lip, my stomach twisting with nerves. Altair and I have become different people now. It’s almost strange how much we’ve changed in only a few weeks. But we have changed. He’s grown more lively, a little kinder. And I’ve become lost. He knows. He knows and he’ll try to fix me. But I don’t know if I can be fixed. And I doubt the wedding will bring me the kind of answers and comfort I need. My questions are of the sort that only another Bloodbane could answer.
Only a little while ago, I was at my own wedding. And now I’ll have another – who knows how soon. I’m grateful that Altair dragged me away from my wedding that morning. It made me realize how much I truly didn’t want to be with Henry and how I wasn’t prepared to be married. I tell myself it will be different with Altair, but truthfully, I don’t know. It’s the not knowing that scares me.
A loud slamming sound drags me from my thoughts. I glance up, staring through the trees towards the palace doors. Servants are carrying a set of wooden beams through, no doubt some kind of decoration for the ball tonight. The week I’ve had to prepare for the ball hasn’t left me anymore confident than I was last time. Navi was impatient in her tutelage and seemed eager to be done with the lessons. But so was I.
Dancing and being a pleasant princess to the Fae who will be in attendance just doesn’t seem important right now. I’m more concerned with my own identity. Ever since I committed myself to Altair, I’ve felt like my blood is filled with lead.
I turn away from the preparations and move deeper into the grove of trees. The sound of birds has disappeared, and the wind is quiet. Slowly, I catch the sound of snapping scissors. Curious, I follow it towards the shadows by the wall that borders the palace. I narrow my eyes, trying to pierce the gloom. Despite Altair’s victory over the Bloodbane, he’s warned me to be careful even on palace grounds. Apprehension grips me as I follow the light snipping sound.
I push aside a large tree branch, just I catch a flash of silver streaking towards me. I yelp and lurch backwards as the enormous shears slice through the branch where my hand was. A Fae man pokes his head through the leaves, his brows wrinkled with concern. My heart leaps as I recognize him from earlier in the week. It’s the gardener I saw before Altair and I went into Desmarais.
His dark hair is combed back away from his face, leaves trapped in the fine locks. His dark eyes rove over me as he drops the scissors. “Curse-Breaker,” he stammers, bowing sharply. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t hear you approach. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say breathlessly, unable to drag my eyes away from his black gaze.
“Please forgive me, Curse-Breaker. I didn’t think anyone would come to this part of the garden while I pruned it and I grew careless,” he says. His voice is deep and laced with a smooth accent.
“Please don’t call me Curse-Breaker,” I say, heart pounding wildly. “My name is Verity.”
“Verity,” he murmurs, smiling. His dark eyes flash and my heart skips a beat. “Call me Dain.”
He disappears back into the foliage, glancing at me over his shoulder with a magnetic gaze. I follow, curiosity gripping me. Behind the wall of leaves that he was clipping, is a small clearing. Iridescent, green light filters through the leaves above. He pauses in the center, in shadow, his eyes glimmering. There’s a wheelbarrow beside him filled with tools. Dain gently places his gardening shears into the wheelbarrow and then takes a seat. I stare, surprised, as he lounges back against a tree. His smiles pleasantly and gestures for me to join him.
Brows furrowed, I sit cross-legged across from him. He stares at me, and I shift awkwardly, wondering what he sees. “So, you don’t like being called Curse-Breaker,” he muses.
“No.” I shake my head. “I didn’t really do much. It just feels undeserved.”
He purses his lips thoughtfully. “That’s your perspective. Imagine that the Fae in Alnembra have been trapped for a thousand years, waiting for to die from a curse that can’t be broken. Even if you feel as if the admiration is undeserved, they’ll forever be in your debt.”
“I suppose,” I murmur. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to live for a thousand years.”
He plucks at the nearby grass and then lets the blades drift from his pale fingers. “Life can be so short,” he says, staring at the blades.
“Well when you tear it apart like that, you shouldn’t be surprised,” I say, surprised by my own brazenness.
Dain laughs, tossing his head back. “You’re right.”
“Will you be alright, taking a break like this?” I ask, glancing around.
“These gardens will be here for centuries more; the branches will continue to grow and I’ll still be here to trim them. A few moments won’t hurt,” he says.
His words remind me of what Altair told me before taking me into the city. Life goes on. And when you’re Fae, time is almost meaningless. “It must be nice,” I murmur. “Living life without a deadline over your head.”
“I forgot that you’re mortal,” he says, his eyes flickering with curiosity.
“And I forget that the Fae live for thousands of years.” I smile. I wonder if marrying Altair is truly the right thing. I will grow old, while he’ll remain young and limber.
“There are some that live even longer. There are some that live forever,” Dain says slyly.
My brows furrow. “Who?”
“The old gods.” Dain gestures at our surroundings, as if they’re right next to us.
“I don’t know anything about the old gods of this world,” I say. My eyes narrow with curiosity. “We have different gods in mine.”
Dain shrugs. “There are many who don’t follow the old gods anymore, like Altair.”
“What do you know of Altair?” I ask, curiosity gripping me. I don’t miss the casual way he neglects Altair’s title.
He leans forward. “Altair knows the old gods exist, he simple refuses to honor them.”
I press my lips together thoughtfully. “Altair and I have never discussed it.”
“And yet you’re engaged to be wed,” Dain says, cocking a brow.
“Because of the curse. I won’t bore you with the details. But I had to agree to marry him to break the curse,” I explain, trying to keep it simple as a blush creeps over my cheeks.
“How?” Dain asks eagerly. “I’ve been so curious.”
I blanch and turn my eyes away. I don’t like it when the Fae look at me like that; like I’m something special. “I’m a Bloodbane, or at least, I could be. But I haven’t made my covenants with Sadal Melik yet, and instead I will make them with Altair.”
“Altair isn’t a god.” Dain looks confused.
“No,” I say hesitantly. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter. The curse broke anyway.”
“Is that what you prefer?” Dain asks. “To be covenanted with Altair instead of Sadal Melik?”
My eyes narrow. I think of the witches that kidnapped me weeks ago. “Of course. I know enough about Sadal Melik to know he’s evil. And Maaz isn’t any better.” I shudder, remembering the cold slice of her blade in my gut. “I don’t want to be like them.”
Dain nods apologetically. “Of course, forgive me. It’s not often that a Fae meets a Bloodbane.”
He was merely curious. I can understand that. I loose a breath. “It’s alright. How long have you been a gardener here? I haven’t seen you before.”
“I worked here before the curse took hold. But then I left to be with my family for that time. The king didn’t want many servants left behind,” Dain explains.
I hear rustling in the trees behind me. I twist, staring into the foliage to see if any of Altair’s soldiers are approaching. But the small grove is empty. “I should go,” I say softly.
“Why?” Dain’s brows crumple.
“Altair gets jealous easily,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I saw him nearly tear apart a guard for making me laugh.”
“Is there a reason for him to be jealous? I don’t recall making you laugh yet,” Dain says.
&n
bsp; I smile. “Who knows, your philosophical musings might amuse me one day.”
“A man can hope,” he says, winking.
I blink, wondering if I simply imagined the subtle movement. “It was nice meeting you, Dain.”
He rises, bowing shallowly. “Verity,” he says, stopping me from leaving. “I wouldn’t matter to me how Altair punished me for talking to you, I would do it again.”
I bite my lip, cheeks flushing. “Strong words from a man who hasn’t faced the consequences yet.”
“Find me again,” he calls as I step through the foliage.
I don’t answer, my heart beating wildly as I hurry away from the small clearing. Soon, the birds start chirping again. I linger at the edge of the grove of trees, just beside the lawn leading to the palace. The preparations are still underway, the servants carrying in massive sheets of silk and various decorations to outfit the ballroom with.
The sun is high in the sky now and I wonder how much time passed while I spoke with Dain. My heart clenches in my chest as I picture the handsome gardener in my mind. He’s flirtatious and charming, but he’s honest. I can see bits of Altair in him, but he’s much kinder. I bite my lip as my thoughts drift around Dain.
I feel a surge of heat in my core and I blush. It’s been weeks since I felt desire for anyone. I’ve spent too much time pitying myself over my injury and worrying about who I truly am. But somehow, just the thought of Dain and his mysterious smile can draw those sensations up in me again. Something not even Altair and his soft kisses have been able to do yet.
I hurry into the palace, trying to put some distance between Dain and me. But my eyes burn with excitement and I feel more alive than I have since the night Maaz arrived. My blood is singing, the heaviness gone. My thoughts aren’t plagued with questions about my future while they flit around Dain. Somehow, he’s freed me from the fear that I’ve carried on my shoulders since the night I broke the curse. I pause at one of the windows looking over the front lawn. I see Dain in the shadows by the trees, his eyes latched onto me. My breath hitches in my throat as our eyes lock. He smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.
Chapter 6
Altair
Music floats from the ballroom doors as a string quartet plays ambient music for the arriving guests. The halls of the castle are lit brilliantly with lamplight, decorated in bundles of wild flowers. I pace along the soft carpet, out of sight of my guests as I wait for Verity. I didn’t have much time to spend with her this week; there are rumors that the Bloodbane are stirring again.
I curse under my breath. I had hoped it would take them more than a few short weeks to mobilize again. I drag a hand over my cleanly shaved chin with a sigh. The ball to mark Summer’s Eve is a tradition among the Fae, where summer is our most-loved season. But with the Bloodbane, my wedding, and Verity’s strange behavior, I wonder if I should have skipped it this year.
I hear a soft cough echo from the stairs. I glance up sharply. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts; I didn’t hear Verity approaching. She stands at the top of the stairs. Once she would have stared imperiously down at me, but now her shoulders curl inwards. I bite my lip, taking in her beauty as she descends the stairs.
Dressed in a blush pink gown of tulle, she looks like a cloud at dawn. Her brown hair is braided away from her face but spilling over her back and bare shoulders. I stare at the porcelain skin of her neck, imagining dragging my tongue over it. A low growl rumbles from my chest and Verity blushes. Biting my lip with a grin, I take her hand and circle her predatorially.
“You look lovely,” I murmur.
“Thank you,” she says softly. Her shoulders straighten slightly, as if she’s gaining more confidence.
I take in the way she doesn’t double over her belly anymore. Her wound will have fully healed by now, leaving only a pale scar. Verity is a vision in the gown, and I know all I’ll be able to think about tonight is her. I already have half a mind to skip the ball and drag her up to my room. “It’s a beautiful gown,” I purr, slipping a hand around her waist. “It will be a shame to see it torn to shreds after the ball.”
Her lips part slightly in surprise and her cheeks flush. But her eyes light with fire, sending desire pulsing through me. Wordlessly, I take her arm and lead her to the ballroom doors. She hesitates, but then straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath. From the corner of my eye, I see her thumb picking at the ring on her left hand.
The doors swing wide and we step through into the bright light of the ballroom. The crystal chandeliers that hang from the ceiling are lit brilliantly. Flowers adorn nearly every free surface. It feels as if we’ve stepped into the gardens instead of the ballroom. A massive arch has been constructed by my servants near the other end of the hall. It’s draped in silk and wild flowers.
Verity inhales sharply as we descend the short steps into the crowd. Verity leans close to me, her bare shoulder brushing against my navy-blue jacket. “They didn’t announce you,” she whispers.
“It’s Summer’s Eve,” I murmur. “Their focus is elsewhere.”
“But do they know we’re engaged?” Her brows furrow with confusion.
“They do.” I slip an arm around her waist and sweep her onto the dance floor. “And we will revel in it later. But for now, dance with me.”
The Fae along the sidelines watch as Verity and I take the first steps in a waltz. Her eyes flit over the Fae guests, worry clear in her blue irises. I sweep her into a spin before she can think about the Fae filling the ballroom. She gasps softly and I grin. Later tonight, when we’re alone, perhaps I can make her gasp like that again.
Verity notices the wild gleam in my eyes and blushes. She nearly stumbles over the steps, but I carry her through it smoothly. With Verity in my arms, it’s as if everything else in the world melts away. We might as well be alone in the ballroom, the only two people in the entire world. She may be drifting away from me, but I will do everything in my power to draw her back.
The song ends, and I step into a waltz pose with Verity. The crowd erupts into applause, but it’s short-lived and the music starts up again. The Fae don’t hesitate before crowding onto the dance floor. Bright smiles split their faces and my servants slip through the crowds with flutes of spirits for my guests. Summer’s Eve can be riotous even among the noble Fae, I hope Verity will enjoy it.
With her hand in mine, we drift through the crowd to the fringes of the room so she can take a breath. Verity’s fingers twist the ring on her finger. “This is different from last time,” she notes, staring apprehensively at the Fae.
I watch as they drink and laugh, practically shouting. A few of the women have already stripped out of their fine gowns and are swaying, naked, in the crowd. “The Fae used to be one with nature, we lived in meadows and streams, naked as the day we were born. But we’ve drifted away from such ways of life. We still honor our origins with Summer’s Eve and Winter’s Night,” I explain, eyes raking over one of the swaying Fae.
“So, all those legends about the wildness of the Fae are true,” Verity says, cocking a brow.
“Were true,” I correct her. “Now, we only return to our roots when we’ve had plenty to drink.”
She snatches a goblet of wine from a passing servant and takes a long drink. “I guess I need to get very drunk then.”
I chuckle, imagining Verity’s awkward human frame dancing the old and aggressive ways of the Fae. “You aren’t joining them,” I say, a smile playing at my lips.
“Why not? You have centuries more to get naked and party like this. I have only a few more years before I’ll be too wrinkly to dance nude in a crowd,” she says, arching a brow.
“You aren’t joining them because the pleasure of seeing you stripped of this finery is mine and mine alone,” I purr, bending over her ear. “Why should strangers enjoy what I haven’t?”
She shivers, biting her lip, and then suddenly rounds on me. “I’m not your property,” she says angrily.
“Of course not.” I shr
ug. “You musn’t forget the instincts of the Fae. You remember how territorial I can be.”
“Like an animal.” She narrows her eyes, as if to insult me.
I grin. “Perhaps.”
Verity steps closer to the crowd, her fingers tugging at her skirts. “Maybe I’ll join them now.”
“Verity,” I say warningly.
She eyes me as her hands finger the buttons on the back of her gown. “It looks like fun.”
I glance towards the crowd. Already, the music has changed, taking on a more wild tune. The Fae are drinking with abandon, laughing ferally. Verity can’t go down there. She would be trampled in their drunken stupor. I cut her off before she can turn and see how the dancing has devolved. I press against her, forcing her back.
“You will not join them,” I snarl. “You will stay here with me.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she snaps.
“It’s for your own good,” I say quietly, letting her peek around me to see the Fae.
Her eyes widen as she takes in their nakedness and the wild dancing. “Altair, why the hell have you brought me here if you’re just going to keep me trapped on the sidelines?”
“I forgot what Summer’s Eve can be like.” I meet her stubborn gaze. “I’ll stay close to you and they’ll gather near the arch, that’s what it’s for.”
Verity brightens. “Does this mean I can leave?”
I purse my lips. “No.”
She rolls her eyes and takes another sip of her wine. “You’re such a hard ass sometimes.”
I feel a thread of satisfaction as Verity returns to her normal self. The subdued, anxious Verity has all but disappeared. I missed her sass and her stubborn nature; this is a welcome change. I can’t resist taking her in my arms, the atmosphere of Summer’s Eve is already clouding my mind. The Fae don’t need spirits to fall into the giddy haze of summer’s call, but alcohol certainly helps.
