Page 54 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
The Scarecrow hasn’t taken his eyes off Caer and Riordan. He seems to have been struck speechless by the sight of their true forms. There’s a fascinated kind of adoration in his wide blue eyes, and I recall that none of the Fae in his village had animal ears or tails—nor did they bear marks like Riordan’s slashed cheeks and scarred hands. Perhaps it’s those oddities that have captured his attention, though I suspect it’s more than that. Among the Fae I’ve seen, Riordan and Caer are certainly notable for their beauty. And Jasper seems adorably susceptible to the charms of anyone who shows him a scrap of kindness.
More of the Wizard’s servants approach, folding long emerald cloaks around Caer and Riordan, guiding us through hallways and up staircases until we reach a long, carpeted passage lined with mirrors. The female Fae guiding us opens door after door to beautifully-appointed suites, one for each of us, with bathing chambers adjoining the bedrooms. I’ve never seen anything so luxurious, not even in Riordan and Caer’s home at the Dread Court.
We’re ushered into separate suites before I can figure out how to protest the arrangement. I don’t want to be alone, not when Caer and Riordan have just regained their true forms—but it seems I don’t have a choice.
A table laden with steaming platters and frosted glass bowls is rolled into my room, and more servants follow with an array of green clothing and a basket of cosmetics, soaps, and towels. One servant explains that a healing serum has been added to my bathwater.
After depositing their burdens woodenly, the servants file out of the room and close the door, leaving me alone in the opulent, cavernous bedroom. The door shuts with a loud click, and when I try to open it, it won’t budge.
Fuck.
They've separated us and locked us in. I probably shouldn’t eat or drink anything, shouldn’t trust this place—but the Green Wizard needs us to accomplish the task he has set, so killing us would make no sense. Despite the annoyance of the locked door, this room is probably the safest place I’ve been since I returned to Faerie.
My stomach gurgles at the delicious aroma of the food, so I take a few bites before wandering into the bathing chamber. Steam curls from the enormous jade-green tub, and the water smells inviting—like rain-washed grass with a touch of fresh mint. I strip off my makeshift garment and yield my aching bones and scratched skin to the heat of the bath. Awestruck, I watch Caer’s claw-marks and all my other injuries heal almost instantly, thanks to the infused magic of the water.
At last, clean and flawlessly healed, I climb out of the bath, towel off, braid my wet hair, and wrap myself in a silken robe. I take more bites of the food—creamy ice-green pudding, frosty green grapes, slices of white fish flecked with green herbs, and green leafy vegetables, lightly sauteed and salted. As I’m munching a slice of green cake, the door to my room swings open.
And then it shuts, having admitted no one.
Or so it would seem.
I hide a delighted smile and continue eating, while my skin prickles with the anticipation of the touch I know is coming.
Along with his natural form, Caer got back his powers of temporary invisibility.
Claws dance along my skin ever so lightly, teasing the robe off my shoulders. The silk slides low, parting in front and nearly baring my breasts.
Warm breath travels the back of my neck, right beside the braid.
“Caer,” I whisper.
Faint words, sweet with desire and heavy with hurt. “They took you away from me.”
I turn, but he’s still invisible. Lips I can’t see touch my forehead, a swift kiss, playful and tender. Then the glide of a furred tail along my leg.
His bared teeth and his eyes reappear first—a pair of purple, slit-pupiled orbs and two rows of glittering white fangs. “I was alone for so long.”
“Caer.” Tears crystallize my vision as I reach for him.
He sinks down before me, between my knees, and leans his head against my stomach, his black hair like raven’s feathers against the green of my robe. The rest of him comes back into view strip by strip—his lean, bare torso, long legs clad in loose silky pants of forest-green. I delve my fingers into his hair, massaging at the roots of his cat-ears, while he strokes my calf with elegant claw-tipped fingers.
“Will you tell me what happened?” I venture.
“You already know.”
“I think you need to say it.”
His head lolls back as he stares up at me. “Very well, mousie.” The faintest flash of his old grin, a hint of purple tongue between his sharp teeth. “I was afraid, so I wished for courage. And the Green Wizard gave me the monstrous form you saw, in which I was more fearsome than any living thing. Yet still I was afraid. And the greater my terror, the more monstrous I became.”
“And you were in heat…”
“And I was in heat,” he confirms, “which made the madness of my terror worse. During my wanderings, before I reached this gods-cursed isle, I tried to slake my lust, but I could not manage it. I craved only one scent, only one body.” He slinks lower, between my knees, and turns his face inward, inhaling deeply at the juncture of my thighs. “Fuck… that’s it. That’s the scent.”
“Are you still… in heat?”
“Yes, though the urgency has eased since I took you in the field. It will continue until my body is satisfied that you’ve been thoroughly bred. That doesn’t mean you have to carry a child of mine—there are herbs you can take afterward, spells—”
“So I’m not already pregnant?”
