Page 39 of Fated or Knot

“Made up when our countries were at war,” Tormund put in. “Easier to hate the other side, thinking they’re all born evil.”

“I don’t think you’re evil,” I said. I had at first, but the more I spent time with these males, the more I’d assumed they were an exception to the stories about Unseelie.

They spent a few minutes explaining the origins of their bestial traits, the so-called curse born of generations of mixed breeding with the more animal-like fae that lived in Serian, like satyrs, naga, and grimalkin. It made a lot more sense to me that it was natural rather than a lineage curse once they were done.

Fal finished the meal by scraping our plate and offered me the last of the pie and melting cream before we all walked back to our car. I turned down Tormund’s offer to carry me, dragging along at my own pace. I wanted more of the fresh air between the train cars. It rushed by at a rapid clip, but the ends of the cars were designed to keep it contained, so travel up and down the train was safe. If it weren’t dark out, we could stand at one of the railings and watch the world pass by far below us.

By the time we bid Fal good night, we found Marius stretched out on one of the couches, reading a book. His expression hardened to one of mild displeasure as he looked at us over the edge of the page he was on.

He read for leisure? That was a surprise to me. Not that I knew enough about the kelpie to jump to such a conclusion about how he passed his time.

Marius sat up, and we gathered to discuss an evening schedule since we’d all need to go to bed when we decided to turn off the overhead essence lamp. To my relief, we agreed to turn in for the evening after going to the baths. There were two cars behind ours, one for hygiene, with bathrooms and laundry, and the last one for storage.

I discovered the bag packed for me had toiletries, a fluffy towel, and several changes of clothes. I took my bath and scrubbed away any hint of my scent, then helped bathe Laurel and brushed her hair, falling back into my servant role like it’d never stopped.

After we were ready for bed, I started the process of preparing my cot with only a small sigh as I eyed the ladder up and down from my bunk. It’d be much easier, with my lame foot, to sleep on the ground bunk, but the alphas would be really cramped in the little corner of space I had between the ceiling and the too-thin mattress.

I shimmed onto the mattress and leaned over the edge to look at my bags a couple yards below.

“What do you need?” Marius offered, glancing up from where he was seated on his cot.

He gave me each item, first the fleece blanket with its bold swirls of color and the oversized, fuzzy pillow from the omega store. I arranged the blanket under me as best as I could and then peeked down at him again. “And in the other bag… You can just hand it up to me,” I suggested.

He held it by its underside and lifted it to a height where I could rustle around in it. One of his blue brows rose when he noticed me slipping out the three items that still bore the unique scents of their original owners, but he didn’t comment. Once I was settled, he snuffed out the essence lamp for the evening with a tug on its hanging cord.

I settled on my side and snuggled in under my new blanket, putting my arms around the fuzzy pillow and trapping the mask, kerchief, and piece of red cloth up against me. Their scents had faded some, but they wove together into a suggestion of an outdoor day. Sunshine, grass, smoky toasted mallows…all by a lakeside with waterlilies and wild mint in bloom.

It smelled perfect.

“What’s that sound?” Laurel whispered in the dark.

“The best one,” Tormund answered quietly.

It was coming from me, purring deeply in the comfort of my temporary nest while I slipped into sleep.

My sleep started with blissful darkness before becoming a full-blown dream. I was back in the omega store, but this time, no one stopped me from dragging all the blankets and pillows I wanted to make an epic nest on the mattress I’d nearly taken a nap on.

Though when I looked at how empty the huge nest was, I released a long, lonely whine. I lay down on it alone and sank into the comfort I’d arranged. As always, there was no one there to hold me, making the whole process a waste of time. My eyes watered as I watched the ceiling, waiting for time to pass.

“You’re not alone anymore,” a male murmured.

I blinked, and he was there, standing a few feet away from the nest with his hands folded before him. “Kauz?” I asked.

“Last I checked,” he responded.

I breathed out in relief and beckoned him for him to join me. He took the invitation and lay down next to me, his wings spilling out to either side of him.

The comfort around me seemed fuzzy, and not because of its softness. But when I rested a hand on his wing’s edge, he was solid. “You can still see me,” he said.

“We’re dreaming?” As I asked, a bit of the realism in the moment faded. Iwasdreaming and knew it.

He looked at me as if I’d hung some of the stars personally. It was the kind of expression I’d seen between mates and lovers, but it was the first time it’d been aimed at me. He shifted, pulling the wing between us behind him so he could rest on his side. “Come here.” He held his arms out invitingly.

In a jump of some kind of dream logic, one moment I was scooting toward him, and the next, I was in his arms, pressed against him. His chest was firm, lean muscle under what felt like a soft sleeping shirt.

“Lark,” he said, nearly reverent. I was slow to realize his affection, my response a delayed catch in my breath. It wasn’t just how he looked at me. It was in his voice, his touch, and maybe even the pleasant haze over my dream. I could sink into him and just be. I wished it were possible.

“Kauz,” I murmured back. What’d changed? I hadn’t done anything to warrant such tenderness. Was he just more open in dreams?

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