Page 121 of Defy the Fae

“That’s a lot of troops.”

“I would mutilate them.”

“And that’s rather harsh.”

“I would tear through the bars of my cage.”

“Dramatics,” she attempts to tease.

I grunt, “The truth.”

The grim mirth drains from her voice. “Your brothers are just as powerful, and they could barely hold themselves up.”

My mouth curls into a snarl. “What those mortals did to them…” My blood curdles from the memory. “I smelled Cerulean’s wounds, felt the rod’s shape across his back, the iron embedded into his flesh. Another three lashes, and they would have died. The humans—”

“Were no better,” she admonishes. “They were mad with grief and terror, and they felt justified. They believed maiming Cerulean and Puck would avenge them and protect their future, but they were no better.”

“No better,” I repeat through my teeth. “We did not torment their fauna or children.”

“Don’t go in circles with me, Elixir. You know what I meant.”

I have slowly peeled the flesh from a mortal’s hide, all without a shred of remorse while they screamed. I have trapped human sacrifices in The Deep, dismissing their existence when a shiver of sharks got to them during their unbeatable game. I have forced them to choose between noxious brews, as penalty for losing their games. I have blinded them until their eyes hemorrhaged.

Yes, I know what she’d meant. Neither of our worlds are innocent.

Dew and mist coat the air. I draw Cove’s floral scent into my lungs and surrender, my anger losing its fight once again as she rekindles the pond with her light.

Cove’s arms ascend to hook over my shoulders. “Having my father with us means the world. Thank you.”

“Never thank a Fae,” I murmur, though my lips cannot resist tilting upward.

“I thought we’d gotten used to breaking rules,” Cove quips.

“Then never feel the need to thank me. I would do anything for you.”

“Including weathering my father’s judgment?”

“That, and more.” I grumble, “He does not like me.”

A circumstance which I have thoroughly earned. The notion sits like a lump in my chest, the pressure calcifying.

Cove squeezes me tighter. “He doesn’t know you, same as he doesn’t know your brothers. But he will, eventually. Until then, Papa accepts you.”

“That is more than I would afford,” I concede. “If anyone touched you, I would disembowel—”

“Again, I know,” she hushes me. “Papa is a good man. He may not be elated by my choices, but he’s willing to try. We told him our stories after you left. It’s still difficult for him to absorb, but he knows we wouldn’t stay if we didn’t want to. Though, he did threaten to stuff more iron down yours and your brothers’ throats if you don’t make good on your vows. Especially Puck.”

I would expect nothing less. Nor do I have concerns. Everything I feel for Cove is beyond expression, limitless and bottomless.

But despite my pledge, I cannot control everything. I could lose all this tomorrow. It could end with Scorpio’s trident in my gut, the mortals’ iron searing through my bones, or the wild deteriorating to the point where I won’t survive in my realm.

That could happen. But if I die, I shall accomplish two things first.

I will love my lady. And if the world shatters, I will make sure she’s the last mortal left standing, so help me.

I growl, raise Cove’s hand to my lips, and brush my mouth against her knuckles. “Make good on my vows,” I echo. “That, I can promise.”

“So can I,” Cove says against my earlobe. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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