King of Always: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 2)

Isla

“Have you heard the news this morning, Isla?” asks Ever, his eyes on the hnefatafl board that rests on the table between him and Lara.

“Wait…don’t tell me.” Grinning, I pad barefoot across the grass of the royal family’s private garden. “You’ve finally developed some humility. Is that it?”

He smirks, and Lara laughs, moving her rune and capturing one of his men. “Don’t be silly, Isla,” she says. “Arrogance is his most potent power. Without it, the Prince of Air disappears in a gust of wind.”

“Ha, ha. As always, your humor delights me, wife.”

“As you delight me, Never, my love,” she teases back.

I sink into a deep cane chair pulled up to the table, my gaze following Merri as she tows Balor around a tree trunk by a golden leash, a white apron and an embroidered bonnet hanging from his neck.

Since he’s wagging his tail like a well-trained puppy instead of a red-eyed hell hound, I think he’s quite happy being dressed as a kitchen maid.

Ever stretches his arms above his head, knocking over a coffee pot with his leather-clad knee. He’s wearing a black, gossamer-thin shirt with detailed silver embroidery that depicts scenes of a girl hanging out with his seven órga falcons—Taibsear, the biggest, perched on her arm in every one.

“El Fannon is dead,” he says, leaning over the table toward me. “And your friend the silver prince will soon be made King of Merits.”

“What?” I pick up a set of silver knuckle bones and flip them to the back of my hand.

The girl on his shirt is Lara. How adorable. Raff, who’s not the least bit adorable, would never dream of having images of me embroidered on his clothes. Nope. Never.

“It is true,” Ever continues. “Two days after the return of Temnen’s body, the king was found dead in his bed. Lidwinia wrote to Mother. She stated the cause of the king’s death as grief and, of course, she cannot lie. But the way she worded the letter…well, let’s just say we may never truly be certain how he met his end.”

I flip the knuckle bones again. “Are you suggesting Riven killed him? Or that Lidwinia did?”

He shrugs. “The Unseelie are capable of terrible crimes against their own family. Consider how El Fannon’s queen, kindhearted Ciara, met her end.”

Beheaded by her husband for not living up to his expectations. Harsh. Still, Riven and Lidwinia are different creatures. Aren’t they? Then I picture her a few nights back, a pointed boot on Temnen’s chest and that blade plunging in over and over. She’s certainly capable of killing her father.

Sighing, I scatter the bones across the table, then sit back to survey the magical secret garden, wondering why I feel empty and depressed when I’ve recently achieved the near impossible—busted a fae prince out of a creepy Unseelie prison.

“Lara, I swear I did not,” I hear Ever say, his voice dragging me out of my morose thoughts. “I merely used air magic to rearrange the board, and if that turned the game to my advantage, well, I could not help it.”

“Which means you cheated!” she replies, swiping the hnefatafl pieces onto the grass.

Delighted with her reaction, Ever laughs.

Taking Lara’s side in the argument, I decide to annoy him with a pointless question. “So why weren’t you with the rescue party the other night? Too busy to come help us?” I already know the answer. But it’s better than asking about the real issues that are currently plaguing me. Which are: Where’s Raff? How’s he feeling? And if he’s not back home yet, when the heck will he be?

After leaving Ithalah Forest the night of our escape, Raff and the three guards stopped overnight at Mount Cúig for a fae version of a health spa, so he could replenish his magic at the Lake of Spirits. Wishing them luck, I continued the journey with Orlinda, and ever since arriving here at Talamh Cúig, I’ve been sadly, stupidly miserable.

I want to go home, see Mom, and indulge in a massive bake-a-thon. Chocolate-dipped madeleines are at the top of my to-do list. They’ll make me feel better.

“Mother used her water magic to prevent me from leaving my chambers,” says Ever. “It was immensely cruel of her to forbid me from helping my brother and forcing me to miss the Merit prince’s final breath. I would have given much to witness it.”

Distant thunder rumbles, its intensity matching Ever’s scowl. He huffs a long breath, then says, “Long have I admired Lidwinia. For an Unseelie, she’s a powerful and sensible fae, and whenever she resolves to do something, she acts decisively.”

Lara reaches across the table and pats his cheek. “I’m glad the queen bound you to our chambers. Your reckless nature may have got you killed. And we found fun ways to pass the time while we were in lock down. Didn’t we?”

His wicked smile makes me blush, and for some reason think about his brother again. Sometimes their happiness is too much to bear, and, feeling guilty, I focus my attention back on the garden.

It’s a beautiful sunny day. Dragonflies flit through rainbow-colored flowers to skim across the pond where tiny moss elf children play along the edges. Birds chatter and sing. The breeze is light and warm. It couldn’t be more perfect.

I’m safe. My family is safe. The heir of Talamh Cúig is free and recovering. All things considered, I should be happy. But I’m not. Instead of being content with this gorgeous day and wondrous place, I feel irritable and unsettled. And, yeah, never thought I’d say this, but I really, really want to go home to Blackbrook.

I’ve only been away from Merri for a few weeks, and she’s grown so much. Bright red curls fly around her sweet face as she hurtles around the garden, Balor still following close behind.

“How do you deal with that?” I ask my cousin.

She pops a scarlet strawberry from a nearby platter in her mouth. “With what?”

I nod at Merri. “Her non-existent babyhood. Now she looks like a four-year-old. It’s mind-blowing.”

Merri skips over, her hands raised, and fingers spread toward the sun as she conducts the wind, leaves of gold and green swirling around her. When she reaches the table, she stops, giggling as she pushes a strong burst of air magic at us. Our hair billows behind us. Black grapes, wafer-thin biscuits, petals, and drops of red cordial float in rotating patterns before our eyes.

“Stop that, cheeky Princess of Air,” says Lara as she attempts to capture and smooth her red waves with her palms.

Smiling, Merri shakes her head—no.

Lara raises an eyebrow and takes a big breath. Then she begins to sing a fast tune that grows louder with each clap of her hands. The song’s magic changes the wind. Rushing about us like a mini tornado, it collects the petals and food crumbs into a neat column and sends it spiraling in the direction of the empty platter.

“No, Mama,” complains Merri as she giggles.

The food settles back on the platter, and Merri collapses into Lara’s arms for a cuddle. “When I first met your father, he tried that little trick on me. Since then, I’ve worked out how to deal with it.”

“Guys, I’m going home,” I blurt.

Ever and Lara’s heads jerk up.

“What?” says Lara.

“You can’t go home.” Ever growls and lunges at Merri who’s just taken off with his barbed silver crown. “Careful that one’s sharp,” he calls to her, chuckling fondly. His glowing, metallic eyes return to me. “The portal is closed, and only Ether can open it.”

“What about Salamander?” I ask. “She sent me here in the first place. She can definitely open portals.”

“She hasn’t allowed herself to be seen in this realm for many moons.” Lara picks up her goblet and sips, the sleeve of her elaborate tunic falling down her forearm.

“What do you mean by she hasn’t allowed herself to be seen? Doesn’t the court know she’s living in the human realm?”

Ever says, “She can’t be living there exclusively. The kingdom’s powers would falter without her remaining tethered to it in some fashion—even irregular visits to our land would suffice. But one who seeks refuge in flames and coals is not easily found.”

Lara squeezes my hand. “What about Raff, Isla? If you leave Faery, you might never see him again.”

I blow out a breath. “For fruit’s sake, spare me the fated mate nonsense.”

Ever’s brow rises. “So you truly don’t believe you’re his chosen one?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” I admit. “But I’m not going to marry anyone who doesn’t love me. End of story.”

The smile Lara gives me is entirely annoying. So smug and knowing. “And you feel nothing for Raff?”

I roll my eyes. “Okay, I wouldn’t say nothing exactly… I mean, there’s no denying he’s incredible to look at but—”

“But,” interrupts Ever, “you believe he does not love you.”

“Exactly. So if I can work out how to get there, I’m going home. But who knows, I might come back and visit one day to see how you’re all getting on.”

“And when you do, you probably won’t see my brother, because without his queen, the curse will have killed him.”

I pull a face at him. Then, brushing crumbs off my leather leggings and blue-velvet jacket, I get to my feet and roll the kinks out of my shoulders. “Remember in Blackbrook how you used to try and guilt trip me into not eating the ice cream in our freezer so you could have it all to yourself?”

Looking wistful, Ever nods. He’s probably thinking about cookies and cream and Saturday night Netflix binges.

“Did it work?” I ask.

“No,” he admits. “Because to spite me, you would always finish the tub as soon as I was occupied elsewhere.”

“That’s right. Guilt trips don’t work on me, so back off. See you guys later. I’m going to check out the Moonstone Cave. Maybe if I hang around there long enough, I’ll eventually bump into one of the mages, and I can talk them into opening a portal.”

“See you, Merri,” I call out, interrupting her play with the moss elves, an image of sweet, joyful innocence.

“Bye Lila,” she answers in her cute lispy voice. No matter how hard she tries, she still can’t say my name properly.

I try to picture a grown-up version of Merri ruling the Merit Court at the side of secretive, solemn Riven, and a shiver skitters down my spine. I turn my attention to Lara and Ever, drinking in the sight of them, so content and in love.

Could their daughter find similar happiness with the silver prince? He seems like a nice enough guy, but over and over history proves that power has a habit of turning good men into oppressors. How will the weight of a king’s crown change him?

The lost end to the prophecy Riven recited rolls through my mind:

A halfling defies the Silver King,

From dark to light, her good heart brings.

Enemies unite. Two courts now one,

Should merry win, the curse is done.

Should Merri win, the curse is done. Wow! How I wish I could share those words with Lara.

Holding back a big sigh, in case I don’t see them for a while, I give my faery family massive rib-bruising hugs and then begin my desperate mission to get out of this place stat—first stop is the kitchen.

After I’ve swapped a couple of recipes with Estel, I fill a cloth pack with food and water, then trek through the forest toward the ancient ruins of the Black Castle.

The pungent, sea-scented air crinkles my nose as I go around the old jet walls then cross the grassy tournament arena where Ever kicked Temnen’s butt in an awesome sword fight when Lara first came to Faery. Boy, I wish I’d been cheering on the sidelines for that one!

Above the sound of waves smashing into the rocks far below, a sinister cackle travels on the breeze toward me. Curiosity trumps good sense and, instead of climbing the hillside to the cave, I swerve toward the cliffs so I can check out who the evil-sounding chuckler is.

Behind a line of sacred hazel trees, a circle of women sit chatting on the cliff edge. Not just any women, but the three mages—the supposedly missing Salamander, better known to me as Sally Salamande, Terra, and the High Mage, Ether. And judging by appearances alone, with her red eyes and white hair braided with strings of dark seaweed, the fourth creature, who’s currently laughing like a maniac, must be a sea witch.

Salamander looks up and waves cheerily as I reach them.

Folding my arms across my chest, I say, “Hi Sally. Decided to come out of hiding, have you?”

“Hello, Isla. For those who need to see me, I am always in plain sight.” Her flaming hair glows as bright as her shrewd, scarlet smile. “What took you so long? We’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

What the crab apples? They knew I was coming?

“Welcome, Isla,” says Ether, her downy-white hair levitating around her ethereal face. Pale fingers point to the sea witch. “This is Ezili from the water realm, newly crowned queen of the sea hags. With our sister Aer in disgrace, we mages prefer to meet with a fourth power on matters of importance. Ezili’s wisdom assists us greatly.”

Thanks for the insight into the fascinating affairs of Elemental mages.

“Duly noted. Hi, Ezili.” I give a casual wave, and the witch reaches across Terra’s lap to seize my hand and tug me down beside her.

Her smile reveals pointed black teeth. “Nice to meet you, Isla. I am very fond of your cousin, Lara. When I first met her, she allowed me to receive her princeling’s kiss of fine oxygen. I wonder…If I asked nicely, would you let me kiss your prince?”

“Last time I checked, I didn’t have a prince, and that’s not about to change any time soon.”

Ezili throws her head back and cackles. “Such pretty lies.”

“What am I lying about? What I said is the truth. If you’re referring to Raff, he means nothing to me.”

“Oh? Then why do you seek us today?” asks Ether.

“I want to go home, and I need the portal opened. One of you guys can organize that for me, right? If possible, I’d like to go now, please.”

“Give me your hand, and I shall speak plainly to you.” Ezili tugs my palm up. “Ah, ha! The lines do not lie.” Damp fingers trail over my skin as she mutters to herself.

The wind rises, whipping our hair and clothes around, drenching us in sea spray. After a few moments, she lets my hand drop. The wind settles, and she gives the mages a smug nod. “As you suspected, Ether, this girl loves the fire prince.”

Salamander leans close, the heat from her skin searing mine as she grips my knee. “You truly wish to resume your human life of drudgery and leave your fated mate behind, relinquishing your right to be a queen of the Seelie fae?”

Rolling my eyes, I blow out a frustrated breath. “If he loved me, things might be different but—”

“But you have not seen him since you returned from captivity. How can you be certain he does not love you?” asks Terra, brown dust glittering on her cheeks.

Ezili gathers me close, her briny smell strong but not unpleasant. “Listen carefully, child, and answer me this. Do you know what you must give to the one who sees sorrow behind your smile, love behind your anger, and reason behind your silence?”

“Um…my thanks?”

“No. Your trust. Don’t you see it? You would trust this person with your life, and I am here to tell you, Isla, that you can trust the Prince of Fire. This man was made for you. Your connection to each other is elemental and everlasting, but you insist on telling yourself that you doubt him when deep in your heart, you already trust him. You understand that he is yours.”

As I open my mouth to disagree, Ezili cuts me off with a hiss. “You see? Still, your narrow human mind needs proof, and it is only through an act of great faith on the prince’s behalf that you will believe his love is real.”

A heavy heat kindles deep in my belly. Weirdly, the sea hag’s words make sense. They feel right. A little frightening. But mostly exciting.

Salamander takes my hand. “Child of fire, as intensely as you wish to run from Rafael, he seeks you now with thrice the fervor.”

He does? He’s probably been back in town for days, but have I heard a word from him? Nope. Not one. Nada.

Flame-colored silk dances over Salamander’s body, her red and emerald gaze earnest. “As the fire mage, I feel every beat of his phoenix’s heart. And I feel yours too. For you, Isla, the flames are the portal to freedom. I know how badly you desire to be free, and to achieve this…you must burn. Rafael must prove he has faith in you. And how will he achieve that, you wonder? Well, he must stand by and watch the fire consume you.”

Watch the fire consume me.

Watch the fire.

Fire consume me.

The fire.

The fire.

Fire.

Images flash through my mind—me flambéing crepes in the kitchen, toying with the flames, those flames leaping, roaring. A pyre forming. Me at the center of it, spiraling slowly, my arms outstretched as I worship the elemental force. The power of fire.

A deep knowing bursts to life inside my chest, a crystal-clear sense of purpose. The secret I’ve long kept hidden whispers in the fire mage’s blood—my terrible desire to let the flames have me. To rise like a phoenix from the ashes.

“Yes,” says Ether, a slow smile warming her face. “Look, Sisters. Isla finally comprehends. Should we let her leave Faery? What is your opinion, Ezili?”

Ocean-deep eyes pin me. “Perhaps she no longer wishes to leave us. What do you think, girl?”

The world around me stills. The wind disappears. The sharp smell of the ocean. The violent, gold-tinged sky. The four otherworldly creatures before me. All of it merges with my pounding pulse, my panted breaths.

“No.” I shake my head slowly. “No. I don’t want to go. What you said feels true. It feels right. So, I guess that means I need to find Raff and test his faith in me.”

The mages clasp their hands together, nodding with satisfaction.

“The prince is home but avoiding you,” says Salamander. “He can no longer bear your rejection and has been listening to unwise council. You must be brave to counter it.”

That sounds like he’s been hanging out with Kian.

Ezili smooths a rough palm down my hair, the gesture maternal, but the feral look in her eyes quite the opposite. “Before we bid you farewell for today, answer me this. Can you tell me what it is that you must keep after you have given it to someone else?”

“That’s easy. A promise.”

She grins. “Yes. You have made one promise to two different creatures—Salamander and the Silver King—see that you keep your word on pain of death, not yours, but the death of the one whom you will come to love more dearly than your own life.”

“I know. Salamander has already warned me. I’ll keep those promises.” Even if keeping my secret from Ever, Lara, and Raff breaks my little liar’s heart. “Thank you,” I add, getting to my feet.

“One more thing,” says Ether. “Imagine for me now that you are in a dark room, alone, and cut off forever from all chance of finding love and happiness. How do you get out of this room?”

Another pointless riddle. My shoulders sag. “I don’t know.”

“Simply stop imagining it.”

Right. That’s a pretty dumb answer… Or maybe it’s actually brilliant.

Stop allowing pride and fear to rule my decisions. Stop thinking that Raff could never love me while I wait for some big romantic declaration like a sulky child. Instead, trust the connection that burns between us whenever we’re together. Trust the fire. The flames tell me he does want me, and not just because of the Black Blood curse.

Raff is mine. I’m his.

“Once again, your advice is good, and I’m grateful for it. See you round, mages, witch queen. Don’t laugh yourselves off the cliffs in a fit of righteous smugness.”

By the time I’ve jogged through the forest and am back in the meadow outside the city’s rear walls, I’m dripping with sweat.

Folk working in the fields pay me no mind as I hurry past, but a few of the striped okapri cows stop eating grass to greet me with loud bellows, their yellow eyes seeming to judge me harshly—there goes the human who lies to herself, we don’t do that. We love grass, we just shut up and eat it.

Time for confession.

I have feelings for Raff that may or may not be love—okay—they’re probably love. Does he feel the same about me? I think he might.

Awesome. That wasn’t so hard. Me and my stupid self should have had this talk weeks ago.

As soon as I get back to my room, high in the Emerald Castle, I’m going to write a very important note.

I just hope he’ll read it.