by Lexi C. Foss
Blah.
Blah.
Blah.
As the former Midnight Fae Queen, she deserved my respect. She was also mated to a Quandary Blood—Kodiak.
Well, technically, Kodiak had turned his back on the source by rejecting it in favor of turning into a Fortune Fae, but his transition had been halted by one of Zenaida’s visions. They’d interfered with fate by trying to stop Constantine’s annihilation of the Quandary Blood race a thousand years ago and had been trying to fix it ever since.
I pretended to check my wrist as though looking for the time, but Zenaida plowed forward without concern.
Her ten minutes turned into fifteen minutes because she’d felt the need to rehash history for some reason.
“So your father was a Quandary Blood?” Aflora asked, engrossed in the story.
“A former one, yes. He fully transitioned into a Fortune Fae Alpha. But I technically have Quandary Blood in me as a result of his origin,” Zenaida replied. “Even though I’m considered a pure Omega. I think they do that to avoid the truth about the Fortune Fae ancestry coming from Midnight Fae.”
“Yes, because all forms of abominations are frowned upon,” I drawled. “So we must excuse any and all crossbreeding as natural, hmm?”
“Exactly,” Zen agreed.
“But that would make Shade part Quandary Blood, right?” Aflora pressed, looking at her Death Blood mate. “And Fortune Fae?”
“We’ve already established that I’m an abomination, little rose,” he replied before popping a cookie into his mouth.
I’d avoided the treat, concerned Zen might try to poison me.
She’d never kill me. But she would do what she could to control me.
We’d been dancing around it for years. There was a time when I’d agreed with her, as did everyone else. Then the Elders had shown me their penchant for death. And I’d realized there was only one way to end this.
Retribution.
“So you think there’s a way to align all the factions?” Aflora was saying beside me. She sat between me and Shade at Zenaida’s dining room table. The Fortune Fae Omega and her two mates were seated across from us.
It was almost like looking into the future to see where we would be in a thousand years, except Aflora would argue that we were missing Zephyrus and Kolstov.
I nearly sighed, but Zenaida was launching into her political plan, bringing us near the twenty-minute mark of this conversation.
Which was when I finally realized that the point of all of this had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the female beside me.
A laugh escaped me as I shook my head and interrupted her midsentence. “Oh, Zen.”
Her gaze sparkled as she glanced at me. “I honestly thought it would take ten. But your arrogance provided me with additional time.”
“I don’t understand,” Aflora murmured, glancing between me and Zenaida.
“She’s recruiting you,” I said, holding Zen’s gaze. “There’s only one thing she’s failed to mention in all of this, and that’s her knowledge of your parents’ deaths. How about you regale us with that tale, Zen. About the deadly weekend where the Elders slaughtered her parents without an ounce of remorse before coming for countless others.”
Silence met my words, Zen’s eyes hardening.
“Shall I start naming them all?” I asked, arching a brow. “Or have you forgotten all the suffering and pain in your continued quest for diplomacy?”
“Killing the Elders won’t bring them back, Zakkai,” she said softly. “Death is a fate none of us can escape.” She glanced at Shade with that comment, but the Death Blood was too busy eating his cookie to notice.
“How did my parents die?” Aflora asked, drawing my attention to her gorgeous features. She looked back at me and then at Zen. “I want to know.”
I waited to see how the former queen would reply. She knew more than I did. I’d been with my father that day, running for our lives.
However, Zen had foreseen their fates. She’d been the one to warn us the Elders were coming. She’d also been the one who’d tried to talk sense into Constantine that day.
Tried and failed.
He’d nearly killed her in the process, but her triad with Kodiak and Vadim had proven too powerful for him. Which was why I wished she would join our side. They had the power to take the Council down but chose to continue to pursue a diplomatic course instead.
The only way reformation would happen was with Constantine Nacht out of the picture.
“Your parents were caught shortly after leaving you with Primrose and her two children,” Zen said softly. “The Elders consumed them with dark magic, severing their ties to the earth source. Which is why you ascended early.”
“You mean they tortured her parents,” I clarified. “By forcing the dark source essence into them, something I felt through Aflora and absorbed on her behalf to protect her.” Then, shortly after that, I’d protected her again when that half-crazed abomination tried to take the source from her.
I didn’t regret it. Nor would I have changed a second of it, other than to perhaps have taken her with me rather than leave her with the Elemental Fae.
“That was a burden you never should have had to bear,” Zen interjected. “I told Laki that, but he insisted on you bonding Aflora.” She shook her head. “I know you saved her life, but there were other options, Kai.”
“Other options,” I repeated sourly. “Like trying to talk Constantine off a ledge and nearly dying in the process?” I snorted. “Sure, Zen. That’s worked well.”
“At least I tried,” she replied, sounding sad. “More death isn’t the solution.”
“Tell that to Constantine,” I suggested. “I’m sure he’ll listen. What, between attacking the village to draw us out of hiding and using Aflora as bait, he’s done a fantastic job of proving he’s willing to talk things through.” I couldn’t believe I’d wasted the last thirty minutes on this nonsense. “There’s only one way forward, Zen. And it’s by responding to violence with violence.” I stood and held out my hand. “Rock.”
She heaved a sigh, and Kodiak wrapped his arm around her. “It’s not too late,” he said softly.
“But it is,” she whispered, shaking her head. “This path leads to death, Kai. I urge you to step off of it and consider alternatives.”
“My path started with death,” I countered. “It’s fitting that it’ll end similarly.” I glanced at Shade. “Out of curiosity, in all the renditions of this conversation, has it gone exactly the same? Or was this any different?”
He didn’t bother trying to hide his antics from me, his icy gaze exhausted as he stared up at me. “Always the same.”
“That’s what I thought.” I returned my focus to Zen. “Rock. Now.”
“It’s in the top drawer,” she said, gesturing to the cabinets beside the kitchen sink. “And your uncle created the spell. I’d ask him why before you attack him.”
“Uncle?” Aflora repeated, the chair moving as she slowly stood as well.
“Tadmir,” I said, a slight growl in my tone. “My mother’s half brother.” I should have known he was fucking around in my affairs.
The lack of a reaction from Shade told me he wasn’t surprised by this news either, suggesting he knew a lot more about my uncle than I’d anticipated.
Which raised several suspicions.
I studied the Death Blood for a moment and noted his vacant expression. “I could use her to dig through your mind,” I said softly.
“You could,” he agreed. “But I think she’ll give you one hell of a battle to fight in response.”
Yes, I’d felt her toying with his initial spell in her mind, learning how to create blocks of her own with cords of Quandary magic. I could break them if I had to. But it would hurt her in the process, and I really didn’t want to do that.
“Well, send my regards to Tadmir. Perhaps I’ll pay him a visit soon,” I replied, retrieving the rock purely to run my own magic over it.
Within seconds, I confirmed Zen’s statement to be true. With a shake of my head, I set it on the counter. “For the record, the spell at the Academy was a message for the Council. No one was hurt—something I personally assured—and I didn’t send the stonepecker to Aflora. I would never risk her in that way. And the village also wasn’t me.”
The statement was more for Aflora than anyone else.
But it felt right to include them all.
“It’s time to go, Aflora.” I held out my hand for her. “Unless you have more questions about the differences between reformation and retribution?”
“No, I think I got it,” she said, stepping toward me. “One side wants to negotiate. The other side wants to draw blood. The problem is, neither side is one hundred percent right.”
I arched a brow. “Oh?”
She looked at Zen. “Zakkai’s right. You can’t negotiate with a misogynistic council of men who refuse to listen to anyone other than themselves. They have already chosen to kill anything and everything they fear, which includes your Quandary Blood lineage. That alone ensures that they will never agree to a truce.”
A fair assessment, one I would have applauded, but she faced me in the next second, her blue eyes alight with censure.
“And killing them all makes you no better than them. You’re just annihilating the threat without giving them a chance to defend themselves or talk things through, which is exactly what they’ve done to the Quandary Bloods. You’ll kill just as many innocents, perhaps even more.”
Shade smiled as he stood and came to hug Aflora from the side. “Well said, little rose,” he whispered into her ear before kissing her on the cheek.
Part of me almost agreed with him. The other part had seen too much to buy into such a high-level assessment. She assumed I intended to kill blindly, but I had a specific list of targets, all of whom had earned their fates.
She’d understand soon.
After the Blood Gala.
Then we would talk it through. Because I needed her on my side, and once she realized what we were truly up against, I knew she’d see reason.
She had to.
There was no other clear alternative. The Elders refused to listen to reason, so why should I? They needed to pay for what they’d done.
I met Zen’s gaze, her expression one of defeat. She knew I’d never align with her again, not after the way she’d failed my mother and so many others. “Take care of yourself, Zen,” I said, meaning it.
I didn’t wish her ill will.
She was a powerful fae with good intentions. She just didn’t have the inclination to do what needed to be done. Fortunately for her, I did.
And soon, Aflora would, too.
Time to go, star, I whispered into her mind.
Can I have a few minutes to say goodbye to Shade?
I nodded. “Of course.” I squeezed her hand and left her to it, knowing there was nothing she could say that he didn’t already know.
And if he shadowed her off somewhere, I had a spell waiting to bring her right back.
But it wasn’t needed.
After a few minutes of hugging and several intimate kisses, she joined me outside and took my hand again, her gratitude warming our bond.
“I don’t want to keep you from them,” I admitted. “But your safety matters most.”
She nodded. “I’m starting to understand that.” She glanced at me. “I think I’m starting to understand you, too.”
“I don’t think you do yet, but you will,” I murmured, leading her to the portal. “I’ll make sure not to let you freeze this time.”
“I would appreciate that,” she replied, releasing a shiver from the memory.
My lips curled. “Or maybe I should so I can warm you up the old-fashioned way afterward.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “Just take me home, Zakkai.”
Home, I repeated to myself, my chest warming at the term.
I knew it was just a slip of the tongue, a thought she hadn’t meant to voice. Regardless of the cause, I liked the sound of it.
So I nodded.
And took her home.
Then released her to dream of her mates, where she told Kolstov and Zephyrus about her visit with Zen.
What a strange little circle we’d created here, one where I indulged my queen far more than I ever anticipated. Yet, I couldn’t seem to stop. She was just too special to ignore.
My father wanted me to break the bonds.
Several of the Quandary Bloods, and Dakota, wanted to attack the Blood Gala.
And here I was, lounging in a corner while she sat between an Elite Blood and a Warrior Blood, telling them all about her day.
I closed my eyes and relaxed, listening to her voice and thinking about the future.
Wars required sacrifice.
What would mine become? And when the time came, would I be willing to make it?
Two questions that chased my thoughts, round and round, neither of them providing me with a solid answer.
Aflora was changing me. That realization should have caused me to take several steps back. But instead, I peeked at her in the dream again and smiled.
Maybe change could be good.
Or maybe it would force me to pay the ultimate price.
I STUDIED myself in the mirror, frowning at the bright blonde ringlets falling to my shoulders. I had green eyes to go with them, and a deep red dress cut low across my chest and fitted at my waist.
“Do you have a fetish for Winter Fae?” I wondered out loud as Zakkai entered in a tuxedo, his hair dark and cropped short on his head. “I look like a Royal Elf.” Minus the ears. He’d rounded my pointed tips to match his.
He ran his sapphire eyes—a startling color change from his usual silver blue—over me and smirked. “You look nothing like a Royal Elf.” He stepped behind me, his arm wrapping around my waist as he set his chin on my shoulder. “You’re stunning, star.”
I glanced down at my cleavage. “You’re only saying that because you upsized my boobs and put them in this very uncomfortable top.” They were practically overflowing, almost indecently.
He followed my gaze, his pupils flaring as he whispered a spell to return my breasts to their normal size. “Better?” he asked softly.
I swallowed, the intimacy of his hold and nearness causing my heart to skip several beats before I whispered, “Yes. Thank you.”
He kissed my neck and released me. “For the record, you’re gorgeous no matter what you wear or how you look.”
I felt his sincerity through the bond and thought the same about his own appearance. He pulled off the short, dark hair and sapphire-eye look rather well. He’d also altered his face a bit, giving himself a rounder chin and thinner eyebrows. My face was more angular with several freckles on my cheeks and nose.
We looked completely different.
But I could feel the enchantment writhing across my skin like a live wire, my true self lurking beneath and waiting to be revealed.
Zakkai buttoned his suit jacket just as someone knocked at the door. He stepped toward it and greeted his father with, “We’ll be fine, Dad.”
“Famous last words,” Laki replied.
The tall male stepped into the room in a pair of charcoal dress pants and a white button-down shirt. No tie. This style of dress seemed to be his preferred attire. I rarely saw him in anything else.
“Have you come to argue some more?” Zakkai asked as he slid my wand into his jacket pocket. He still claimed it was his, but the magical strands responded to me, not him. Ergo, my wand.
His father slid his hands into his pockets. “No. You’ve made it clear that you have no desire to listen to reason.”
“As I recall, you took me to a Blood Gala after my eighteenth birthday, saying it would provide me with perspective. I’m doing the same for Aflora.”
Laki’s gaze slid over my dress before returning to his son. “She’s a beacon, Kai. They’ll recognize her power.”
/> Zakkai walked over to his dresser to retrieve a small jewelry box. He opened it to reveal a gold necklace with a diamond star pendant hanging from the end. “May I?” he asked, approaching me with the necklace.
“Will it be like the collar?”
“Sort of, but no.” He held it up for me to inspect. It looked like an ordinary chain. I touched the metal, expecting it to zap me, yet I felt nothing.
“Okay,” I said slowly and gathered all my wayward curls into my hands, exposing my neck.
Zakkai gently drew the chain around my throat, allowing the pendant to hang along my breastbone, and clasped the chain at my nape. “How does it feel?”
“Like a necklace,” I whispered.
“Dad?”
Laki pursed his lip. “The beacon of power has dimmed.”
Zakkai grinned. “This will hide your mating bonds as well.” He showed me a watch on his wrist. “Just like this is hiding my link to you, in addition to dulling my power.”
I frowned down at the beautiful charm. “But I don’t feel any different.”
“Good. That means my spell worked.” He stepped to my side, his attention on his father. “Anything else, Dad?”
“It’s a risk.”
“So was taking me seven years ago,” Zakkai murmured. “She needs to see this just like I did.”
“Our duty to Aflora was to keep her safe, Kai. This is the opposite of safe.”
“As was letting her be bitten by Shade and taken to the Academy,” Zakkai retorted. “Yet you deemed that an acceptable risk despite my protests to the contrary. At least I gave her a choice in this instance.”
His comment jogged a memory, one where Shade indicated that someone had sent him to me. Something about how he had warned Shade that I would be beautiful.
I never did find out whom Shade was referring to. Had it been Zakkai or someone else?
The Midnight Fae Council had told Shade to bite me. But knowing Shade, he’d only complied because he wanted to.
Which left me wondering who really told him to bite me initially. And why.
Shade, I said softly, mentally knocking on the door he’d created. I could push through it, but I preferred him to answer willingly.
