“I owe you everything, Morgan,” she replied, a fierce strength shining from her eyes. “Tryst was always a hot-headed idiot and he will always be. If he loves us as much as he claims, he will listen to reason and give up this folly.”

  But listening to reason wasn’t Tryst’s strong suit, and in my head, Caorach echoed her fear that someday soon, Tryst would choose to test his power against ours, instead of letting us talk him out of destroying us all.

  Three

  Akane complained at being left behind, so we brought her upstairs with us to the penthouse traditionally reserved for the alpha, and now my home too. I hadn't bothered to bring much with me, just my clothes and my mother's things, including her books and the full-length mirror I used to communicate with my father and the Fae in Arcadia.

  I dressed for my father, changing out my grass stained jeans and tank top for a sundress, the closest thing I had to ‘demure’ in my closet. While I balked at most of the trappings of court, I’d finally starting to take good advice to heart. For the Fae to accept me, a mortal mongrel, in court, let alone as their possible future queen, I needed to at least attempt to adhere to some Customs, however archaic and sexist I found them to be.

  With the Fae fox in my lap and Gray at my back, I activated the mirror to the sound of pixie bells. The sound was my choice to always remind those on the other side that I allied myself with Myst, queen of the pixies and mother of wisps. She had already given herself to the cause of honoring the lesser Fae before I created wisps on my own, but the return of the long-lost magic had solidified our alliance into something akin to friendship.

  She spied for me, and the bells alerted her to my calls, so she could tell me what was hidden from me on the other side. (My father was too powerful to spy on, and he hadn’t said anything about the others, which I took as his blessing to continue.)

  But this time, I would not need a spy I would be speaking to my former boss, and then my father. Orson Tell was a bail bondsman when he was exiled from Fairy, but since the return of his impressive earth-moving magic, he'd been summoned back to Arcadia to protect the throne. I was happy for him, even though all the changes made my life feel less real sometimes.

  The mirror cleared and I looked into Orson's pale grey-green face, his large eyes almost smiling as he greeted me…almost. "You look ridiculous."

  I rolled my eyes hard enough that it hurt, just to make sure he saw it. “Hey Boss. What’s up in Arcadia?” I knew I looked pretty in the dress. If I hadn’t been sure, Gray’s hungry eyes roving over me would have been all the reassurance I needed. But that’s not what Orson meant anyways. We’re bounty hunters, we don’t wear frills or robes or dresses. But there we were, both of us dressing to please my father’s courtiers, and neither of us comfortable in the costumes of the Light Court.

  He grunted noncommittally, his eyes shifting to someone I couldn’t see to his left. “I’ve been in talks with the alpha out here, nice folks, not interested in serving the Fae, so much as being seen as equals.”

  I didn’t bother to say, “well, duh.” Orson knew that would be the response, because I’d told him before he started negotiations.

  “But they are willing to serve as members of the community, right?” Grayson leaned into the frame so Orson could see him too. “They told us that working with the Fae was perfectly acceptable.”

  Orson’s face remained impassive. “There are no Fae willing to work alongside the shifters, they fear it will weaken them. Just like they’ve been weakened by your visits.”

  “They were weakened by my releasing the magic they were stealing from their prisoners, not by my mortality, and they know it,” I huffed, hugging myself. “That they’re still telling themselves these lies is counterproductive.”

  Orson nodded. “Not all subscribe to the lies, but enough to cause unrest, and your father doesn’t want to force the issue until he sees the kind of peace that he and Tryst will establish.”

  “No easy peace I fear, according to Tryst.” I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples as a dull ache began behind my eyes. “Can you speak freely?”

  He nodded and I gathered my thoughts, Gray’s arms going around me. “He’s at it again, Orson.”

  I elbowed him gently and cleared my throat. “What do you know, or think you can find out about a prophecy in which Tryst would kill the king of the Seelie Court?”

  “If there is such a thing, it isn’t spoken of at court, or in the barracks,” he admitted. “I’ll check in with Lady Rosalind and the records keepers.” The skeptical tone of his voice echoed my own silent concern, that such a threat would be buried and forgotten so that the people wouldn’t question the power of their king, and after a few hundred years, forgotten so completely, my father might not even listen to my warning.

  “I must speak with him, even if he refuses to hear it.” I scrubbed my hands over my face in frustration. “What’s the weather like in Arcadia these days?” My father is the Lord of storms, I get my ability to change the weather from him, (and apparently, my temper, but aloud I always denied his stubborn streak.)

  “I will transfer you to the throne room. He meets with his advisors.”

  Gray hissed softly. The advisors were our greatest obstacle in changing the more outdated Fae Customs. It was no small task bringing the Fae still living in Arcadia, the land of Fairy, to the modern world, and the men who whispered in my father’s ear were some of the most afraid of change.

  “Thank you for the warning, I’ll watch what I say.” The question changed from whether my father would hear me, to whether I would have the opportunity to even tell him of Geallta’s prophecy or ask him if he knew Tryst believed it to be about him or what we could do to stop war from breaking out between the courts.

  The mirror shimmered and changed without giving me a chance to say goodbye to Orson. Even returned to Fairy, he still couldn’t manage to be polite over the phone.

  When it cleared, my father sat in his golden throne, Lord Baran by his side. It was a stroke of luck that my father’s best friend and longtime voice of reason was also my staunchest supporter in the court. But his face was dark as he glared through the glass at us, making me wonder what had changed since I’d last visited.

  “King Emris Stormkeeper blood of my blood, Lord Baran Kingmaker, most trusted advisor to the king.” I took a breath and tried to remember if there were any other formalities I was forgetting. “It is good to see you both looking so well.”

  “I wish I could say the same, Morgana Silk, Witch-queen.” It was Baran who replied, making my hope for a pleasant beginning to the talks sink. “You are unwell. It does not bode well for the Fae to see the mortality you bring us.”

  Oh. Of course. I was the only mortal Fae in the high court, and everybody was watching every hair shed for signs that I was turning them all mortal too. Well, this at least, I might be able to assuage their fears on that point.

  “I am well, though the increase in power is an adjustment,” I said aloud. “While I am grateful to the goddess for blessing me with an abundance of magical gifts with which to protect my people, there is much for me to learn to make them abide in me equitably.”

  “Surely you are Fae first, shifter and witch second?” Baran continued, his lips pressed into a thin line as he finished.

  “I have no desire to be more Fae than I am shifter, or more shifter than I am witch. I seek balance, as I was told to do by my predecessor, and…”

  “Your predecessor was not Fae.” My father finally spoke, his voice empty of judgment or encouragement.”

  I nodded. “Yes, but the wisdom holds. My Fae-cat form does not make me less Fae, does it?”

  “It marks you as lesser Fae.”

  “And I disagree that there is such a thing as a lesser Fae, considering the greatest magics we have are thanks to the wee folk. Perhaps when the rest of the Seelie court catches up to the Current millennium, we can have that discussion, but now is not the time, when there is a legitimate threat to you.”

  “From whom?” I liked Baran, but his habit of speaking over my father was beginning to irk me.

  “Father, do you wish to hear the message given to me on the eve of my wedding celebration?”

  He flinched at the mention of my marital status, and beside me I felt Gray’s body tighten in anger.

  “We could perform a proper ceremony on Arcadian soil, that way your celebration could not be interrupted by outsiders.”

  For the love of fuck. He’s mad we got married without him. Will wonders never cease? I controlled my expression, almost a form of glamor I’d perfected at the hands of my easily angered Aunt Portia. “That would be lovely, Father. We welcome the opportunity to ask the favor of Fairy and her king, and wish we had not been forced to rush such a momentous and joyous occasion.”

  Both men relaxed, my father’s shoulders visibly sagging as he stared over my shoulder, like each man was taking measure of the other. I elbowed Gray as surreptitiously as I could, goading him to speak.

  “Truly,” my usually nimble-tongued mate managed to stammer before he collected himself. “Nothing would please me more than to observe time-honored traditions and bless our union among the Light Court.”

  Ever since we’d learned the prior Dark Court rulers had been torturing shifters, twisting them into horrific mutations of their animal forms, the shifters had finally thrown in their lot with the Light, promising to help them protect Fairy in return for safety from more Unseelie kidnappers.

  Still, my husband knew better than to forgive and forget old slights before the Fae had acknowledged them, even if other packs leaped to the new alliance with open arms. His wariness was evident in the tight set of his shoulders and the steadily rising heat at my back.

  “Great,” I broke in, “now can we talk about the threat to your life, or are there more hoops to jump through before we can get to business?”

  Baran’s already pale face whitened, but my father raised a hand to silence him before he could open his mouth. “Please, share the message with us, if you think we do not already know.”

  “Tryst threatened to kill you. No, I’m sorry, he promised to kill you, to fulfill a prophecy. Did you know and not think to tell me, or for once will you admit that you’re not omniscient?”

  “I know of no prophecy that tells the end of my life.”

  “Yeah, apparently Geallta thought it meant Grandfather.”

  “And you’ve given the traitor a throne and power to execute his plan?” Baran chided.

  I ignored the pun, from the stern advisor it was definitely not intended. “Don’t you think if you’d bothered to mention any prophecy that mentioned the most manipulative Fae of all time and the death of anyone in my family, I might not have given it to him?” I stood, filling the mirror with the floral pattern of my dress for a moment before Gray tugged me back down beside him. “I’m sick to death of Fae grandstanding and secrets. All they do is cause harm.”

  Baran sniffed and raised his hand to break contact with me. “Don’t you dare Cut off the queen, Kingsman, or I will visit you personally to make sure you don’t have the hands to do it again.” Gray’s voice was heavy with the promise of violence.

  “She is not my queen.”

  I sighed and rubbed my temples. “No, but I am your princess, and I do outrank you, in Fairy, as queen of anything, Fae or not. Leave us, both of you. I need a moment alone with my father.”

  Gray kissed my hair and gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, leaving me without complaint, even though I knew I’d hear about it later. Baran wasn’t quite as obedient. I shook my head at my father and pushed Fae magic, wild magic, through the mirror until wisps sprang to life like sparks of flame dancing around his head.

  “I said leave us, Lord Baran. Don’t make me force you out. I’d like to avoid humiliating you, if at all possible.”

  My wisps danced out of reach of his waving hands, leaving him free to meet my eyes through the mirrors. “I have supported you when few others would.”

  “And yet you forget your place, and mine. I’m not a child, Baran, and neither is my father. We are capable of speaking without you to patronize either of us.” He bowed stiffly and stalked off, leaving me staring incredulous at the high king. “Since when does the king’s advisor determine who the king speaks to without witnesses?”

  Emris Stormkeeper, High king of the Fae, Lord of the Light Court, lowered his glamor and looked at me as just my father. He’d aged, without his glamor he looked worn down and exhausted, and it made my heart ache to think that I might have been the reason for his fading.

  “Wow.”

  “Now, there is no need for that worry in your face, Morgana. I am well enough, though the infighting of the nobles has stretched me thin of late.”

  I managed a wan smile. “Want me to come kick some asses for you?”

  He laughed and I realized I’d never heard his real laugh. Without the glamor to make it sound like trumpets played behind him, it was deep and gruff and entirely masculine, the kind of laugh I’d dreamed of as a child, when I lay in the darkness and prayed to the Goddess to rescue me from the coven and give me a family to love.

  “You should always laugh like that. It’s better without the glamor.”

  “Only a human would say that. The Fae want constant reminders of my power.”

  I thought for a moment. “I would refuse just on principle. Save your strength for when someone dares to challenge you, then put them down. No one would ever suggest you were weak ever again.”

  “And if they are right?”

  “I thought that’s what having an heir was for.” I’d already fought and won my share of challenges. “I am your sword arm, am I not?” Technically as his only child, I was the captain of his guard already, but I couldn’t act as such living outside of Fairy.

  “If Tryst is trying to fulfill his prophecy, I will need you to act as my captain, but I do not like the thought of sending you into that place. Have you considered that luring you into the Darklands is precisely his goal?”

  I nodded as a weight seemed to lift off my shoulders. “I have, and I’m grateful to hear you say it. I sometimes think I see monsters in every shadow.”

  “As you should, Morgan. For where the dark lingers, there the king of the Unseelie Fae has power.”

  “But I’ve got to go find out if the threat is real.”

  Emris Stormkeeper, untouchable king of the Fae, looked at me with fear in his eyes. “I will not force you to go, Daughter. But if you do, do not go alone.” The mirror went dark as someone entered the room out of my line of sight and my father extinguished the connection.

  Four

  Akane squeaked in complaint as I set her to one side and shrugged out of the dress like a snake shedding unwanted skin, ignoring the trembling in my legs as I stood at the end of the bed.

  "I guess that didn't end well?" Gray handed me a Cup of tea hot enough to scald my palms as I gripped it in both hands. "It never does though, does it?" His hands were warm as he massaged the tension from my shoulders, his calluses scraping over my skin and raising gooseflesh on my arms and neck.

  “No, it doesn’t seem to, but at least this time, he took me at my word.”

  The rhythmic massaging halted abruptly. “That’s a first.” His hands started moving again, sliding down my bare sides to rest on my hips, his thumbs playing with the waistband of my white cotton panties.

  I shivered in spite of the heat stinging my palms and he took the Cup from me, setting it on the dresser and turning my back to the bed. Without a word he gently pressed me back and I obeyed the silent instruction, sitting on the end of the bed.

  He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside and I inched backward, giving him room to kneel between my legs. I lifted my hips, my legs wrapping around him as he bent over me, placing soft wet kisses down my neck and between my breasts. His smoldering eyes met mine in a long look before he pushed my bra down and pulled one nipple into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue as I sucked in a quick breath.

  He licked and sucked my breasts in turn, his hands Cupping the mounds and guiding them into his mouth in turn as I writhed under him. “Gods I’ve waited all day to have you to myself.”

  “Mmm. Some celebration of our wedded bliss, huh?” I threaded my fingers through his hair and pulled his face up to mine. “It was good to see the pack play together, huh?”

  “It was, but all I could think about was getting the games over with so we could get to this.” He ran his hand down my bare stomach to between my legs, his fingers sliding between the fabric and the wet heat beneath to slip inside. “Have I told you today that I love you?”

  “Only a couple of times. I’m always ready to hear it again.” I rocked my hips against his hand, rubbing my clit against him until sparks of Fae magic began to tingle between us.

  In the distance I could hear the beginning of a scuffle between packmates and it threw off my rhythm as I braced for Gray to get up and leave. “Oh, not tonight sweetheart, they can figure it out themselves,” he chuckled in my ear.

  His fingers twisted in the cotton fabric of the panties and deftly twisted and tore them away like no mere human ever could, then thrust slickly inside me again without missing a beat.

  “Gods, you’re almost too smooth, you know that?”

  He laughed again, almost evilly, lowering his mouth to my nipple and nipping it hard enough to make me gasp. The mix of pleasure with sharp pain wakened the Fae-cat inside me and I felt her power rub along my skin like she was stretching after a long nap. Gray felt it too, his own metaphysical power rising to meet mine, his eyes taking on a golden glow as he stared down at me.

  “Not tonight, Cat-boy,” I whispered, using the position of my legs to flip us over. It was less graceful than I planned, but Gray ended up on his back, his hands on my hips as I ground on the erection pressing against his trousers.

 

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