Page 39 of Consort

I growl at myself and storm out of the hut. Why do I care so much? He used me. That’s not anything to be swooning over. It’s pathetic. I’ve latched onto the only exciting thing that’s happened since we left our pack. My idle mind has turned a dangerous, degrading encounter into something exciting. I can’t allow my boredom to invite him back inside me, even just my brain.

The fae is dangerous. He hasn’t come for me yet, but he still may. It might just be taking him a while to find me since this place is so well-hidden. I can’t let my guard down, no matter how bored I might be.

I hear my mother behind the hut, tending the garden she planted. We now have herbs and a few fruits and vegetables safely growing inside our protective walls. We’ll get the other things we need from the market when we need them. Maybe in a year or so, we can move on and find a new pack. A better one.

It’ll be comfortable and safe here until then. I’ll just need to find a way to keep things interesting. If I don’t, thoughts of that fae will fester in my head and devour what’s left of my withering brain.

Maybe I just need to be more productive. We often gather berries from the bush outside the thicket. I decide to get some for us to eat later. I stop in front of our hidden entrance and listen closely to make sure nothing is lurking around. When I’m sure it’s clear, I slip outside. As I move toward the berry bush, I notice a cloth bundle nestled beneath the thorny stems that wasn’t there before.

My heart stops. Instinct screams at me to run back inside to my mother. But the burn of adrenaline and pounding in my chest areexhilarating.It’s a break from the endless monotony, and I need it. Nothing could stop me from giving in to my curiosity right now.

I crouch in front of the bush and look around again to make sure no one’s watching. Then, I reach out a shaky hand to retrieve the bundle. This is foolish. It could be spelled. It could be cursed.

I really couldn’t care less.

I carefully pull it out, wincing as I snag the cloth on the plant’s thorns. I pull back the flaps one at a time and can’t help my grin when I see what’s inside. It’s not the dried meats we desperatelyneed or the nuts and grain we’re low on that excite me. It’s the elegant pink soap and luxurious, pale-blue washing cloth fit for the queen herself.

Everything else drops to the ground as I take the cloth in both hands and glide it across my cheek. It’s every bit as soft as it looks. I run my finger across the delicate purple vines stitched into the corners, sighing to find that the threads are made of silk. Could I actually use this beautiful thing to wash dirt and sweat away? It seems too perfect to even touch. It’s by far the nicest thing I’ve ever held in my hands.

There’s more to it than that, though. All shifters are sensitive to smells, not just Alphas. I don’t need to lift the cloth to my nose to notice the fae’s warm scent lingering in the fibers. But I do it anyway, drawing in as much of it as I can. Chills race across my skin as I remember waking up happy in the cave, surrounded by this very scent.

His blue hair was so mussed up, like I’d been gripping it for hours. But his face was flawless, like he’d just touched up his perfect glamour. Smooth bronze skin, a sharp jaw, and full, wide lips, slightly parted to give me a peek of his straight, white teeth. I find myself offended by the perfection of his face, feeling the need to muss it up, too.

I should be angry at the fae’s smell. He took advantage of me. He used my body and probably isn’t finished toying with me. But I’m too stimulated by his scent to focus on any of that. I just want to keep feeling soalive.

I look up, half expecting to see bright blue eyes peering at me from within the trees. But the forest is empty. There’s only me and this unexpected gift.

Mother calls out for me from the other side of the thicket. My stomach tightens as I realize how foolish I’ve been. This gift means the fae knows where we are, and he may have known for weeks! He might have been plotting against me this entire time.His plan could start with these offerings.

We need the supplies. I want the stupid cloth. But I can’t take them. I’d have to tell Mother the truth about my heat. She’d never accept the gifts. She’d make us leave. But if the fae found me once, he’ll find me again. This is the safest place we will ever stumble across. There’s no reason to trade it for somewhere we’re more vulnerable to everything else… only to have him return. Leaving would be a mistake, and Mother would surely make us go.

I shove the bundle back under the bush. A pang of loss hits at me as I notice a hint of blue peeking from between the leaves. The washing cloth was beautiful. Perfect in every way. But I won’t lie to myself. I don’t want it for its beauty. I want it for the scent it carries. For the thrill. For that small piece of my missing memories.

But I can’t accept anything from him. It could send a message that would end up hurting my mother. Perhaps, if I ignore the gift, he’ll lose interest. I turn and stomp back through the thicket as bitterness overtakes my heart. I wish he’d left me to my heat. I would have forgotten the pain. Now, I’m forced to live with the resentment and confusion he’s dumped on my head.

I find my mother still behind the hut and chat numbly with her until she becomes distracted. There’s nothing left to do but lie down on my narrow bed, hoping sleep will come soon to pass the time. Once Mother thinks it’s safe, we can start a new life somewhere else. Hopefully, it will be before the fae comes up with something harder to resist.

Chapter 15

Durin

The nobles do nothing productive. They only feast, boast, and strut around the forest without a care. There hasn’t been single threat to the queen since I’ve been here. This position is bullshit. Nothing even remotely noble ever happens.

I’m grateful there’s not much to do, though. It gives me time to observe and explore. I’ve been able to memorize the layout of almost the entire castle. All doors remain open other than the soldiers’ sleeping quarters. There must be hidden areas, though. There’s no dungeon, and that doesn’t make sense. I haven’t been able to explore the area around the queen’s room. It’s always guarded. Perhaps the dungeon entrance is illusioned close by.

I’ve made sure to be seen around the castle and forest enough to be recognized as a new noble. I’ve tried not to let anyone see me going to or from my room, though, which is in a different hallway than the other soldiers’ are. Thankfully, no one seems to be aware of my role as consort yet. The queen hasn’t thrown her usual celebration to present her latest prize to the fae. Perhaps there’s always been a delay, and I just wasn’t aware. Whatever the reason, it’s been to my benefit.

The fact that word hasn’t spread has given me insight on some of the nobles. The empath, Daylor, knows but hasn’t told anyone. Trass, the guard who dropped the illusion on thequeen’s room, definitely knows, but has also kept quiet. The creature handler, whose name I’ve yet to learn, was there when the queen named me as consort.

Spilling my secret would make me far more noticeable to the other nobles and put a target for their cruelty on my back. These fae are either generally kind and don’t wish any extra misery on me, or they also don’t wish to be here and suspect that I feel the same. Either way, I have these three on my list of possible allies.

As for Folas, I don’t know why he hasn’t said anything. I still don’t even know what his purpose is here. From what I can tell, he’s just a runner for the queen. But to have her protection like he does… I wouldn’t put him anywhere near that list.

I’m unsure about the rest of the soldiers. I’ve not befriended any of them. They seem to just overlook me. I’m not sure if Lynoss warned them of my power or if he hid what happened due to his pride. Thankfully, they’ve left me alone.

I’ve learned a lot by just listening in. Like most of their names and magical abilities, as well as their overall personalities and special tastes for things. Most of them are deplorable, like mutilating those who are more beautiful than them, requiring other species to perform dangerous challenges in order to survive, or forcing themselves upon nearly anything alive in the forest. It’s been difficult to appear passive when I hear their detailed recounting of their sickening adventures.

But it hasn’t been all work. I’ve spent a great portion of my time peeking in on the Omega and her mother. When Farris showed me where she’s been staying, I was relieved to find it so secure.

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