Page 31 of Within the Veil

Well, this should be fucking amazing, I think to myself as I lean back and discreetly cover my balls in case it starts raining mini bombs.

* * *

Oberon

I scowl as Zane, not so subtly, shifts back. However, I can't control my history, I can only use it to destroy everyone who gets in the way of my future. I think that is how that saying goes.

"To answer the first question," Hunter starts, drawing Hudson's attention. Raking my gazes over Zane's smug face, I summon a little gift for him to find inside his clothing drawer later. Magic is very beneficial in war.

"We sent missives, and when everything went to hell, we started making appearances and showing a unified front. At that point, I didn't give a fuck who saw us. Never did, really. But an Arallu hanging with three powerful families would have raised several questions none of us wanted to answer," Hunter answers Hudson's first question with a slight shrug of his bulky shoulders.

Hudson's eyes darken, "what you mean is, there would have been some judgemental fuckery afoot? So much so that yourfriends," she hisses, "had to hide their awesome demonic fae of darkness?"

Hunter chuckles and reaches to smooth the wrinkles between her brows. "It's a bit more complicated than that. If I were part of a typical Unseelie faction, friendship would be frowned upon, but not so much that it would cause dissent among the Seelie families. The Arallu's are on the outskirts of what one would consider an Unseelie. Our powers are coveted but feared. If a Seelie Fae were actively befriending one of us, it would be assumed they were seeking more power or possibly about to declare war with another Seelie family. Now throw in a powerful family or three, and it would only be a matter of time before shit hits the fan. "

She scoffs, "Well, sounds like a 'them' problem, not a 'you' problem. It isn't okay that you couldn't have genuine friendships simply because you were a little savage."

At that, we all pause, eyebrows raised.

"What?" She snaps, "My Arallu-suger-pie-cuddly-demon-of-death, didn't need to be murderousandalone."

Hunter groans, shifting Hudson closer on his lap and placing a kiss on her neck to hide his smile. I know the feeling. There is something special about a woman who accepts you for everything you are.

"First, he needs protection from me, and now he needs protection from everyone else? If I didn't know any better, I would wonder if Hunter is as terrifying as he makes people believe," Grayson shakes his head with a laugh. Ignoring Hunter's glare, he continues, "Angel, it wasn't something we wanted to do, our duties meant we had to maintain appearances and alliances, all the while protecting our people and families. In a war, you at least know who your enemy is. Within the royal courts, you never truly do."

"It also helps that Hunter was a sneaky bastard randomly appearing in our bed-chambers or libraries when he was bored. Which was often," Ryder points out.

Zane chuckles, "Or that one time he randomly flashed in and out all day sneaking cookies. My mother thought she was going crazy. Then she hid behind a glamour, and when Hunter popped up again, she smacked him with a tree branch over the head."

They all laugh, and despite the slight pang of longing in my chest, my face splits into a grin. They all had a long history together, and while I wish I could have made the same memories, I am forever grateful that I didn't -- because my knowledge and expertise are what is going to ensure that this laughter continues for several lifetimes.

--

"Okay, okay," Hudson giggles. "We can dish all the stories later. This is learning time."

She looks at me pointedly, and I shake my head at the silent demand. From being feared to being commanded, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"To answer your second question, if you recall, when you first met me, I was heavily cloaked."

She nods, and I continue, "As Scail, the cloak never came off. Before you came into my life, only a few people walked this realm and knew that Oberon and Scail were one and the same. My Whisperers make up about 99 percent. Those left are a few gentle souls from my previous reign, who were too close to constantly hide my comings and goings. It was possible, simply burdensome. They were put under enchantment, and even if they did want to betray my trust, they couldn't. They couldn't even bring a picture of what I looked like to anyone who delved within their minds."

Her gaze sweeps from my feet to the top of my head with an appraising sort of look. I feel the indecision warring inside of her: the need to know and the need to slow down the influx of information to manageable levels. I admire that. Still, watching her hold back the urge to appease the burning curiosity scalding the tip of her tongue is amusing. Her restraint, unknowingly, eases the slight tension that I didn't realize was weighing on my shoulders. One day I will share everything about my past, but without a direct question -- because I will never lie to my mate -- I do not feel the urge to answer her silent query. There are some things about my history that need to remain hidden until the right time.

"As Oberon, I have a certain amount of pull within the Fae Kingdoms, as Scail, I have all the information I need without the pomp and circumstance. So my cloak never came off; if it did, you wouldn't live to tell the tale. Within this camp, after I removed my cloak during our impromptu sparring session," I pause briefly, watching her eyes soften with the memory of how she claimed me, sealing our bond.

"I ensured, from that day forward," I continue, "that no one will be able to recount who I truly am. It's an advantage that will be useful should we come across anyone who has had dealings with me as King of the Seelie and unknowingly come to the attention of King of the Whisperers."

Hudson's face lights up, lips curling into a pleased, slightly unhinged smile. "Genius. Someone may come to court and claim they are loyal all the while, we already know that they are a deceitful little fucker who humps pumpkins for fun."

I stare at her for a moment, questioning whether or not she is suffering from a sort of madness, and quickly dismiss the thought from my head. In this family, if madness is the question, then people will most assuredly weep at the answer.

"Precisely," I nod.

"Okay," she leans forward, making Hunter growl in annoyance before he tugs her back against him, resting his hands on her swollen belly. She rolls her eyes and places her hands on his before nodding excitedly. "So nowthatis covered. History time. Who is the great Oberon?"

"Yes, Oberon. Tell useverything,"Zane, raises an eyebrow. I resist the urge to castrate him, but only just.

"Yes, well. I have been called quite a few names throughout history. But the only ones that bear fruit are that of King and King of Whisperers."

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