by Ana Calin
I slip my arm around Zillard’s, parading with him. The dark warlock flashes a smug grin at Sandros as he leads me further through the gardens.
The Seelie Fae realm is the most enchanted place I’ve ever seen, as if cut out of a very vivid fantasy dream. The Seelie are the most reclusive kind of fae, but also one of the oldest. They possess primordial knowledge that would be deadly in the hands of power-monger supernaturals such as Xerxes, so it makes sense that they’re so secretive.
The Seelie King already declared he would remain neutral in the war between Lysander and Xerxes, if such an open war ever starts, but before that happens he offered the grounds for a neutral meeting with Calabriel Seawrath. I took part in some of Lysander’s talks with him, even if only from the shadows, not sitting at the table of the mighty, where only Minerva had a place.
From the gardens, Zillard and I enter a deep forest of ancient trees with heavy crowns, fairy dust floating through the silky grass, the woods teeming with magic. The air here would be enough to cure humans of any disease, as well as mental and emotional trauma, but unfortunately it can’t do anything to get my mind off of Lysander and Minerva. I see them in my head, rutting like beasts, and I can barely resist the searing temptation of using the demon eye to confirm my fears. My heart crumples as I imagine Lysander enjoying Minerva’s fae body, licking her milky skin, then dipping his tongue inside her sweet-tasting pussy. Moaning between her folds, savoring her.
Bile rises to my throat.
“Zillard,” I manage, trying to shake those tormenting scenarios from my head. “Is there any way, any magic that can help to lessen the emotional power someone has on you?”
“Get rid of romantic feelings, you mean?” He walks with his hands behind his back like an ancient wizard, somehow trapped in a young body. “Depends on the emotional attachment. If it’s real and profound, there’s no way to get rid of it permanently. You can lessen the effect, but think of all those couples who could never be together, but their feelings were so intense that they never really got over each other. They died thinking of one another.”
I can imagine dying with Lysander’s name on my lips. Cursing him and the day I laid eyes on his beautiful face.
Zillard and I emerge from the trees into scenery that takes my breath away. I gasp, slapping a hand on my chest.
“This is incredible,” I breathe, staring at the huge silver moon hanging low in the sky, casting her silver light over the surface of a stunning cobalt blue lake.
Zillard stops in place, but I move forward, gravel crunching under my feet, fresh, pure air filling my lungs. Fairy dust sparkles over the crystalline shore where the water laps over the gravel. I need to feel all this wonder on my skin, sensing that it would replenish my tanks of vital energy.
I toe off my shoes and walk into the water, barefoot, feeling the gravel and the fresh water between my toes.
“God, this feels heavenly.” It doesn’t wipe the memory of Lysander and Minerva from my head, but it dampens it.
Then the water begins to sparkle. Zillard is hunkered down beside me, drawing a circle on the water circle, his index finger sending fine ripples through it. The ripples meet in the center, forming a kind of liquid mirror inside Zillard’s circle. The sparkling came from his magic.
“Wicked,” I breathe, fascinated, and crouch down by his side. I’ve seen enough of his quirks these past few days that they don’t scare me anymore. If anything does, it’s the fact that we might be becoming friends.
“It’s a scrying mirror,” he explains.
He’s been training me for days, in secret. With my natural sea powers chained, and with Aunt Miriam’s gift hiding deep in my powerhouse, becoming better at regular magic seems like my only option to gain some control over my own destiny.
“What are we looking at?” I scowl at the fine ripples. All I can make out is the outline of a city, or a town, until the landscape narrows down to a dark alleyway that reminds me of Gothic novels.
“At our secret weapon against Xerxes. If anything can bring him down, it’s this. Look closer.”
Lysander
I STOMP DOWN TO THE great hall, where we’re finally meeting Calabriel Seawrath. My cape billows behind me, and my armor clatters, all in unison with my raging emotions. Warriors follow me with rigid faces. I feel feral, and that’s the energy I give out. I’m thirsty for Zillard Dark’s black blood.
Because of him, Arielle saw and heard my discussion with Minerva in the demon eye. The thought that she might have given herself to Zillard in order to punish me is tearing me apart. I have no doubt the bastard has taken advantage.
The grand doors open into a large hall with a domed ceiling that mirrors the skies, and water flowing down the opal walls, grand and splendid. The arched windows open to the impressive Seelie forests. Calabriel Seawrath is already waiting.
“King Lysander Nightfrost, Lord of the Winter Realm, King of Frost and rightful bearer of the Ice Crown,” he states my full title, but bows his head only so slightly. He never liked me, and the feeling is mutual.
He’s wearing a long glittery garment of greens, blues and gold, and his head, surprisingly, is bald. Which is what stops me in my tracks, and softens the expression on my face, replacing it with curiosity.
“Calabriel Seawrath, Steward of the Seas,” I greet, approaching him. We stand face to face, holding each other’s stare. He’s smaller than me, and his baldhead makes the disparity even more striking. A thin, transparent layer of slime covers his skin, and his lips are bluish, livid. Sea fae and merfolk often come with smooth scales and sleek skin, yet the scales look and feel like jewels, and the skin is bright and healthy. I wonder if Calabriel is sick. His head looks like that of an octopus.
“I was just congratulating Lady Minerva on your recent engagement,” he says with a grin that reveals widely-spaced teeth. I imagine the comment is enough to make this awkward for Minerva. They used to be lovers, something I’m not supposed to know. Now I understand why she left him—he looks nothing like what he used to. He changed so much these past few years.
“Please, sit,” I invite, pointing to one of the intricately woven chairs with silken cushions. Servants hurry with carafes of nectars and juices, laying them right next to the rich bowls of fruit.
“We could cut right to the chase, King Lysander,” Calabriel begins as his servants hold his robe, so he can take his seat comfortably. Minerva sits down by my side. She moves to place her hand over mine as I sit back in my seat, but then changes her mind. I must be emitting forbidding energy.
“So, to avoid unnecessary introductions, I know why you and Lady Minerva requested this extraordinary meeting. You want me as an ally in your conflict with Xerxes Blazeborn, which could explode into military action any day now.” He waves his hand casually after one of his servants hands him a golden goblet of nectar. “To be frank, I didn’t even want to come, if it weren’t for one detail that intrigues me. By the way, where is our host, the Seelie King, won’t he be joining us?”
“He’s already made his choice, and he didn’t want to influence you,” I reply. I try to keep my tone even, but it’s hard to hide how his nasal and arrogant voice gets on my nerves. “We’re here to discuss yours.”
“My choices are not up for discussions, thank you very much.”
A corner of my mouth rises in a half-smile as I stare at him from under my eyebrows.
“Then why did you agree to meet me?”
He downs his nectar, then taps the goblet with his fingers, staring at me with a stroke of defiance.
“I would like to meet her.” His small eyes glitter. “The ocean king’s descendant. I understand you have proclaimed yourself her guardian, so I have to go through you. I believe the proper term would be ‘legal guardian’ in the mortal world, if you actually had any rights over her. Maybe I can remind her that you don’t.”
“Lysander found her,” Minerva chimes in.
“This isn’t a finders-keepers game, my sweet,” he blocks.
“If she really is the ocean king’s rightful heir, then the King of Frost has no right to keep her prisoner.”
“She cannot handle her own powers,” Minerva explains. “She’s been raised in the mortal world, is only twenty-two human years old, she is a baby with the button to launch a nuke at her fingertips.”
“Still, it is not for you and the King of Frost to decide her fate.”
“If Xerxes had found her in my place,” I say, “you wouldn’t be sitting here so well-served and cozy, Calabriel. He would have mated her, reinstated her in her rightful position, and would be using the oceans according to his whims. If that’s the scenario you long to see, then by all means, sit back and just let the war come to pass. If he wins, you have a hundred percent chance of losing your position as Steward, and Xerxes taking over your reign. Should I tell you what will come of you, if this happens, or can you draw your own conclusion?”
He knows as well as I do that Xerxes would cut him into pieces, and spread his body throughout the ocean.
I can read Calabriel’s inner struggle in his face as he watches me, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
“Becoming your ally could be trouble, too,” he says. “Xerxes will have his allies, too, one can’t know who one might upset in choosing your side. What if he has Tartarus on his side? Because I can’t see Hades on yours.”
“Hades isn’t on our side, but he won’t act against us either. His son, Zillard, is with us.”
Calabriel’s slick eyebrows rise. “The dark warlock? The half-demon?”
“I’d say he’s a whole demon, but that’s beside the point. He’s taken a fancy to the heiress.” I hiss the last word. “I gather they’re together all the time lately.”
“Zillard is my teacher,” Arielle’s crystalline voice fills the hall. “I learn magic from him—he’s the only one willing to help me with that.”
Both Calabriel and I stand as she approaches, the blood pounding wildly in my veins. The pale-blue gown glitters on her, the corset with a long, flowing skirt having become her signature. But in addition to that she’s wearing a sapphire necklace that rests beautifully on the delicious swell of her breasts. Her shiny hair is up in a royal hairdo, and deep blue lace snake up her arms.
Her royal beauty knocks the air from my lungs. Never has a woman affected me like this. I want to pull her in my arms, and ravage her mouth with my kisses, marking her as mine, making it clear to the entire world that there will be blood if anyone tries to take her away from me. Controlling myself has never been harder.
Calabriel circles her, his eyes traveling all over her body. I want to punch him in the face for it, and Minerva is dying to slap me—I can feel her. I try to get a grip and rip my eyes away from Arielle, but the mates’ bond is messing with my head big time.
“The woman who inherited the oceans,” Calabriel whispers, inspecting her as if she were a circus curiosity. “Half-fae. Half human. A half-breed, inheriting the entire power of the waters. Incredible.”
“A simple castellan having found his way to all that power is just as impressive, I assure you,” Arielle strikes back. My chest swells with pride. Everything about her is gracefully aristocratic.
“I was just the next best thing after family, that’s all.” He grins.
“How lucky for you.”
“If Zillard Dark isn’t your lover,” Calabriel changes the subject, “does that mean you’re up for grabs?”
“Interesting choice of words. Ruffian even. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a fae use it.”
“Forgive me. I thought it would make you feel more at home, using human slang.”
“How come you’re familiar with the way mortals speak?”
“Scrying mirrors. I find humans fascinating.” He motions to a chair. “Please, sit with us.”
Minerva stiffens as Arielle approaches. I can smell her hatred for my mate, it stains the air around us with a sulfurous waft.
Calabriel holds a chair for Arielle, and servants hurry with the choice of carafes.
“I should like to hear as much as possible about your life among the humans,” he says. “Not many of us have gotten the chance to experience it.”
“My father lived in the human world for thousands of years. He must have told you a thing or two, I understand you were already a castellan at the time he returned to the Flipside.” She doesn’t even try to veil the implication that Calabriel might have had a hand in her father’s assassination, but he chooses to ignore it.
“Your ‘guardians’ and I were just discussing my Court joining you on this quest of annihilating Xerxes’ threat.” He looks at me, once again avoiding an uncomfortable subject. “They made it clear that my Court is as much at stake as theirs. But that doesn’t mean an alliance with you is my only option. I could, for example, strike a deal with Xerxes. He might yet have the more powerful allies. Rumor has it the Seelie King will remain neutral, while Xerxes might have already secured the darker Courts to aid him. There are things I can offer Xerxes, I’m sure we could reach an agreement.”
Minerva opens her mouth to say something, but Arielle does it first.
“There are things that we can offer you, too, in exchange for your help.”
“Oh yes?” he raises his eyebrows, moving his head theatrically her way. “Examples?”
“Let us play a game—it will ease some tension, and make the whole thing more pleasant, I should think.” Arielle picks up her nectar goblet, and leans back gracefully, crossing her legs, looking like an ethereal queen.
“Let’s pretend we are each other’s genie, you and I. Tell me one wish that I and only I can make come true.”
He grins, his eyes traveling down her body to make a point. “Just one wish?”
My blood rushes like an avalanche, and Minerva swallows uncomfortably. It must be unpleasant, watching your old boyfriend flirt openly with another woman, so I guess it makes two of us in this.
I can feel Arielle through our bond. She’s disgusted, but manages to smile anyway.
“I’ll start, if you like,” she says.
Yes, the bastard likes that.
“I want the Trident.”
He bursts into laughter. “No more and no less than the Trident, you say? Yes, sure, why would that even be a problem?” He laughs harder.
Arielle shrugs. “If you won’t give us your support, then we’ll be fine with the means to support ourselves. Zillard says the Trident commands the ocean beasts, both from the magical realms, and the human world. It wouldn’t be you wielding it, so you wouldn’t attract Xerxes’ wrath. You can release the information that the Trident has been stolen, and—” She looks around. “Nobody is listening, right? This is a top secret meeting?”
“It’s private, you can speak freely,” Calabriel rushes her.
She gives him a smile that knocks him back. The presence of water infuses her with energy and beauty. Her cheeks have caught a peachy hue, and her blue eyes sparkle under her heavy black lashes. I can’t help wanting to step in between her and Calabriel, and remind her that I’m the only man with the right to her seductive smiles.
“If you choose not to help us,” she tells Calabriel, leaning closer to him as if telling him a secret, “I will claim the Sea Court when this is over. You can make a deal with Xerxes, but he will only fulfill it if he wins, or better yet, until he does. He might dispose of you afterwards anyway. If King Lysander wins, he will sustain my claim to the Sea Throne, and you won’t have a chance to fight that claim. Isn’t that so, Lord of Winter?” She meets my eyes.
“It is.”
“Please don’t think I don’t understand, Lord Seawrath,” she continues addressing him, while she holds my gaze. “I know you’re faced with a very tough choice. Probably the toughest one ever. But while you weigh the pros and cons, please do not forget—Lord Lysander and I can be just as dangerous as Xerxes.”
We keep staring at each other for moments, while Calabriel ponders.
“You said one wish,” he eventual
ly says. “There is one thing, actually, that you and only you can do for me. Besides the promise that you would not claim the Sea Throne when this is over.”
She lifts her goblet at him with a wide, pearly smile. “I knew you’d see reason. But my promise not to claim the throne should suffice, don’t you think? It means I’m giving up my entire legacy.”
“Not your entire legacy—you retain your power over the seas. You see where I’m going? What’s the point of ruling the seas if there’s someone who can raise the waves against you, and wipe you out. So this, how shall I call it, abdication of yours isn’t worth as much as you make it sound, and I have a hunch you know that. So here’s my proposition—You promise not to claim the Sea Throne when this is over, and you’ll fulfill one other wish for me. In return, I will join in this war with all of my forces, and I will secure you another new and powerful ally, too.”
“What ally?” Minerva says. Her voice is harsh, as if they’d never been lovers.
Calabriel keeps silent for a heavy moment, creating tension. “Dragonblood shifters.”
Dragonbloods. Serpent shifters, engineered into existence in the human world by shady corporations. The only supernaturals, besides Dracula’s vampires and a few isolated werewolf clans, that are allowed to live in the human world, and that is only because they were ‘born’ there.
“Xerxes wants control over earth,” Calabriel says, picking up his goblet and putting things into perspective. “The realm at the center of them all. Having allies there would up your chances of tipping everything in your favor.”
Arielle looks at me questioningly, looking for guidance.
Dragonbloods are grim creatures, but they’re powerful. Skilled assassins, swift, smooth. Their creators used snake DNA to make them, but they only used a particular kind of viper that’s a direct descendant of dragons, which is why some of the engineered creatures can actually shift into dragons. It is increasingly difficult for them to keep their nature secret in the human world, though, becoming so large when they shift. Calabriel must have given them shelter on the Flipside during their phases, which is why he has access to them.
