Page 9 of Consort

Now that his throat is unrestricted by my hands, the blocked blood rushes back. It’s too much. His neck splits open, and the blood pours out like a dam breaking. The ground hisses as his blood seeps into the dirt beneath him.

I crouch down and watch the life drain from Mitah’s eyes. “The queen thanks you for your years of service,” I tell him with a smirk. “I’m sure you’ll be tough to replace.”

I feel the elf’s spell of determination falls away, even though I’m far from finished with my mission. But I find that my own resolve remains. There’s more to be done. First of which is to cover up what’s left of Mitah.

I’ll have to move his body and burn or bury it. This can’t be connected back to me to me if no one ever finds it. I reach for his arms, but the pain from my broken hands hits hard now that the adrenaline has worn off. I growl as I inspect the damage he managed to inflict on me.

Moving him is impossible. I can’t even lift him onto my shoulders. I’ll require a healer to mend my hands before I can do anything with them. The body can’t stay here while I tend to myself. Farris will have to help me.

I stand and turn back to the fillana bushes, spotting him stillhidden among them. “Mind giving me ahandwith this?” I ask the plant, holding up my mangled hands and nudging Mitah’s body with my foot.

He remains illusioned and says nothing. I quickly understand why he’s not laughing when I see two fae further down the path, gaping at me and the noble’s lifeless body at my feet.

I freeze, knowing better than to hastily react. It’s too late for Farris to illusion me.

The two fae are dressed like Mitah in fine, white tunics with the symbol of the queen embroidered in gray on their chests–a silhouette of the bitch herself, surrounded by twisted, thorny vines I’ve never seen anywhere in the realm.

The crest tells me these fae are nobles, which means they’re powerful. Full of magic meant for suffering and death.

It also tells me that they’re loyal to the queen.

I’m fucked, but at least Mitah is, too. They can do with me as they wish. I spent four years abusing myself to purge the realm of that monster’s face. Nothing they do can bring him back.

The blood on my hands is now blood that belonged to him. There’s nothing they can do to strip me of that satisfaction, either.

Chapter 3

Rue

I pretend to sleep while waiting for my father to rise for the day. Mother is already outside, busy with her morning tasks. The sticky wrongness I feel between my legs is sending me into a panic. The thought of Father scenting it and turning me in fills me with dread. I’ve tried to calm my racing heart, but each beat still thuds in my chest like an ogre stomping through our camp.

Eventually, the frantic rhythm rouses him. He jerks upright on his mat. My heart stops, now too afraid to pump as he tries to find what woke him.

Mercifully, he grumbles and stands, forcing his legs through his leathers before heading out for the day.

When my heart finally starts beating again, it feels like a kelpie kicked me in the chest. I’ve got to get control over these heightened emotions. Panicking every morning will only make things worse. The wrappings my mother gave me worked. I need to have faith in her.

There are so many layers, each one sprinkled with flakes of soap to mask any sweetness that might escape at night. She’s made a thinner version for the day, which will allow me to move around more easily. Thank fuck. I feel like a pup waddling around in this thing.

Once I’m sure my father is gone, I grab the day wrapping andrace down to the stream. I make my way to the secluded area where the water is coldest.

It’s the Awakening Season, when the chill starts to fade and the forest blooms to life. But this part of the stream remains cold for far longer than the rest of it. No one wants to bathe here, and it’s no good for washing clothes. It’s the perfect place to hide.

I strip off my sleeping clothes and wade waist-deep into the frigid water, reminding myself that the cold will keep my secret safe.

I let out a sigh as I peel off the bulky night wrapping. After a thorough wash, I leave the freezing water and get dressed. The day wrapping isn’t as uncomfortable as the night one, but it’s still noticeable enough to be a constant reminder of what I’ve become.

What a joy.

I pick one of Mother’s fragrant soaps and apply a layer along each side of my neck where shifters’ scents are strong. After finding a soft patch of dirt near the water’s edge, I bury my sleeping clothes and night wrappings just as I did yesterday.

This is so much work that I shouldn’t have to do. Being stuck in a situation where this is necessary infuriates me. I’m tempted to say fuck it all, but I can’t shake the image of the Alphas leering down at me as they take their turns. The darkness they normally hide revealed in their eyes as they find pleasure in dominating someone weaker.

No. They willnotlook at me with those eyes. They will not touch me with their dirty hands. I’ll do this forever if I have to. The work will become routine. Hopefully, I’ll only need to keep it up a little longer until another Omega presents. Once Bock has announced his new Luna, I’ll reveal my designation and be done with all of it. I’ll still have an Alpha forced on me, but at least it will only be one.

And I will have outsmarted the Prime.

After a dull but safe day working alongside my mother, Father surprises us by returning home early. “The Prime wants extra bread for the meal tonight,” he says. “Be on time.”

---