Page 32 of Claws of Death

“I haven’t forgotten.” It’s all I can say without bringing those lines of worry to Ayna’s forehead.

At least, the course of direction has ended Recienne’s amusement. His full attention is on me now as if waiting for me to spill my secrets.

When I don’t respond, his gaze wanders to Astorian, who shrugs. “It was a promise made under duress, and we might still need the Crows in this war. I’d hate to see a capable, powerful ally leave in times of need.”

“Leave?” Ayna whispers, making my stomach turn into a tight knot. Ican’tleave her. And I can’t take her from her homeland, especially since she’s the rightful queen of Tavras. But technically, the promise includes her. She’s become one of us. A Crow. And mine. That makes hermy Crow.

I merely shake my head. Astorian is doing what I’ve known him for all my life: political manipulation, turning things in his own court’s favor. Only, this time, he knows that I’ll benefit as much from it as they will.

I need to be here to fight Ephegos when he attacks, need to see Erina bleed for his crimes against my mate and the people she calls friends. Need to see them both suffer for what he did to me and mine. I can’t leave.

Before anyone can dig deeper, Recienne clears his throat, and we all sit back.

“First, Wolayna is right. I do owe you my thanks, Crow King. You were willing to sacrifice your freedom to save two of my court.”

No one is more surprised than I am by his words, and even knowing that Eherean fairies can lie, I feel the sincerity in them. And Shaelak bless my mate for her boldness. She cut right through the drama, calling two kings out.

Because she was right about me, too. I know Recienne measured me by the standards of my father. Carius the Cruel is who he feared and hated, and I’ve never done a thing tomake him think any better of me. Clio relayed my efforts to him, but never the why. She only knew that I was willing to give up the deal I’d struck with Recienne before to get her support in saving Ayna.

I’m not too proud to admit that it’s a struggle to receive such words of thanks, knowing my people hurt his kingdom for centuries. But it’s a start, so I incline my head in acknowledgment and force out those three little words I should have spoken a long time ago. “I am sorry.”

The room is silent as a tomb as we hold our breaths to see if the male whom I’m used to viewing as my dungeon master accepts my apology. Ayna’s fingers tighten around mine near-painfully, and I find myself squeezing hers back.

Eventually, Recienne dips his chin. “You helped bring my sister and my general home, yet I need to see your sincerity for myself before I fully trust you.” He flicks his finger, making Ayna and the humans jump as a colorful feast in copper pans, silver platters, and ceramic dishes appears in front of us, covering the table between us. “Let’s eat first, though. Alliances are best discussed with a full belly. Shuts down our natural hunting instinct.”

I’m not certain I imagine the glint of seriousness in his eyes, even when he’s otherwise broadly smiling at me, but I wouldn’t put it past the Fairy King to murder me in my sleep. The Crows have been a thorn in his kingdom for long, long centuries after all. Calling Tori my friend won’t change what my father did to these lands, what he took from these people.

“We wouldn’t want that instinct to come to life,” Herinor notes flatly, and this time, I don’t imagine it when Toricuts the Crow warrior a warning glance that would shut even me up. I’ve got to give it to him; Herinor merely shrugs and saunters to the empty spot next to Kaira, plopping down in a chair after all, now that it’s been established we will all attempt to be civilized.

“What’s for dinner?” Shaelak bless her, Kaira disperses the tension with a question and a grumbling stomach, drawing the attention of the entire party as she bluntly reaches for the domed, silver lid on the platter closest to her and lifts it to set free the aroma of herbs and fruits I haven’t tasted in my life.

“Fruit pie. That’s for dessert.” Clio snatches the lid with her magic, floating it back onto the dish while, with her free hand, she picks up the cover on a large bowl at the center of the meal. “Try this for starters.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but certainly not the informal procedure of each of the Askarean fairies helping themself to the various dishes presented along the table, using both cutlery and their powers to get them onto their plates.

“Try the lentils,” Astorian nudges Recienne with his elbow, pointing at the small bowl right in front of him. “The kitchen fairies tried something new.”

Through the mate mark, I can sense Ayna being as flabbergasted as I am at the sight of the casual meal while the rest of us are hesitant to touch the foods. Well, not all of us. Kaira has her plate filled with various greens and meats, gaze following every bite Clio takes as if in reference to what is edible and what isn’t.

It’s only when Ayna clears her throat that Recienne stops his fork halfway to his mouth, eyeing us as if he hadn’t noticed our reluctance. “If you’re hungry, you’ll need to help yourselves. I’m not going to spoon-feed you.” His gaze is on me, and this time, a hint of humor accompanies the harshness of his tone.

I’m not certain what to make of him yet. Similar to Astorian, I’ve faced Recienne of Askarea on a battlefield, have negotiated terms with him, and dealt with his powerful magic. I’ve never had a meal with him, let alone a conversation that didn’t involve demands, threats, or even bloodshed.

So, I put on my blandest expression, forcing my talons to retract and my claws to turn back into fingers and let go of Ayna’s hand. “When the curse hit, I was too young to feed myself, and my mother was killed by Vala’s punishment. Spoon feeding is how I survived my early months.” I wait for the words to sink in and, when they do, immediately regret them as Ayna gently squeezes my hand as if in comfort. I wasn’t going for a hit there. This was meant for the Fairy King, to shame him out of his enigmatic cockiness. Keeping my face blank, I amend, “I prefer forks now.”

My effort isn’t in vain. Recienne’s lips quirk, and he dips his chin as if to say, “touché”, and Ayna’s head turns, gaze palpable on my face as she tries to read what I have planned.

Nothing. I have planned nothing. Nothing other than making sure none of my party comes to harm in this palace.

Ayna

The food is fantastic.Rich flavors. Hearty breads and light sauces, meats and vegetables, cheeses and fruits in various forms. What they all have in common: They are seasonal and spiced in a way that allows for the ingredients to shine rather than bury them the way Erina’s court seems to like their meals. Perhaps, I never learned to appreciate the food I was served there because I was constantly nauseous from the drug and I knew I’d expel each meal quite timely and re-experience it in the inverted path.

After the initial face-off between the two kings in our midst, I’ve made my way through three helpingsof meats and vegetables, slices of bread, and am now staring at a piece of the fruit pie Kaira discovered earlier.

The fairies and Crows haven’t tried to kill each other, which was to be expected when it comes to Clio and Tori, but not the Fairy King himself. He is scary as fuck, mostly because he hides his viciousness behind a veneer of polite smiles and the occasional laugh. Myron is behaving himself, no longer sniffing every bite before putting it in his mouth. I understand his concern, though. We were all drugged for too many weeks, and the drug was delivered through our meals. I would be just as careful if it wasn’t for Clio and Tori, who are shoveling food into their mouths like they aren’t princess and general.

“Here—” I’m about to lower my fork into it when Clio sends a flash of her ice magic into my dessert. “The fruit filling tastes best frozen.”

---