Page 72 of The Maleficent Faerie
I turn to the raven, locking my eyes with her beady dark ones. Her visions unfurl in my mind, linked with snatches of overheard conversation, and one clear message from Fitzell.
Two of our border fortresses have fallen, and Caennith soldiers are streaming through a breach in the wall, riding hard for Ru Gallamet. They aim to stop me from using the Princess for the ritual.
Fools. Don’t they understand I’m trying to save them?
The images bursting in my mind are painful. The Caennith Priesthood, mostly Fae, are surprisingly skilled at designing cruel weapons. One might think they’d be a peaceful bunch, dedicated as they are to the worship of the light and waiting for Eonnula’s savior. Yet they work closely with the military forces of Caennith, designing spells that can batter bluesteel armor until it cracks. They have concussive bombs and poison-laced spears, not to mention the most awful of curses—blood-steamers, nerve-rippers, lung-shredders, heart-bursters. Our defenses are strong, but their hate is stronger. Their fanatical belief in Eonnula’s sovereignty makes them incredibly dangerous.
Roanna shows me what she last saw as she flew over Daenalla during the hours I was asleep—a contingent of Caennith Fae speeding across the plains toward this castle. We don’t have much time before they reach us.
They have slaughtered so many of my people. When they arrive, I will deal with them quickly and mercilessly.
“Reinforce the gates. Set defensive spells.” I sit up, relieved that I can do so without pain. “And see if anyone is willing to help me at the Spindle. I need to replenish my magic and fight off this first wave of Caennith Fae before I do the ritual with the Princess. That spell cannot be interrupted.”
“At once, Sire.”
“Oh, and tell one of the servants to feed Roanna.” I wave the raven gently away, and she flies to perch on Kyan’s shoulder, eyeing his silver wings.
As they leave the room, Aura stirs and pushes herself up to a sitting position. She’s wearing a white dress, and the laces at the front have loosened while she slept, allowing me a generous view of her breasts. My cock twitches and lifts slightly at the unexpected treat. That’s when I realize I’m entirely naked. Healers sometimes prefer that, especially in cases of widespread injury—clothes can hamper their access to certain energy centers of the body. Unfortunately that means my reaction to the Princess’s cleavage is all too obvious.
“What’s happening?” She brushes blond wisps of hair back from her flushed cheeks.
“An attack within the hour.” I reach for a blanket at the foot of the bed and drag it over myself. “I need to siphon Void magic so I can fight off the Caennith.”
“You’ll kill more of my people.” Her tone is flat, resigned—yet with the fragility of grief in the sound.
“I don’t want to. But I have no choice. I need to get rid of them so I can perform the ritual with you, uninterrupted. You can remain here while I regain my magic.”
She tugs the laces of her dress tighter, closing off my view of her breasts. “Why would I stay here when I could watch the Spinner of the Void at work?”
On the way up the steps of the tower I devour a bowlful of potato-bacon dumplings. I offer one to Aura, and after finishing it she darts her hand around the edge of my wing to steal another.
“Greedy little viper.”
“You saw nothing. Keep climbing.”
Chuckling, I mount the last of the steps and open the door to the tower roof.
Aura doesn’t gasp as we step out onto the black stone under the shadow of the great Wheel—but when I glance her way, I can tell she’s impressed. Her eyes are wide, her jaw immobilized right in the middle of chewing a mouthful of bun.
“I built this decades ago, and I’ve been working one it ever since, perfecting this and that. Forged some of the pieces myself.” I clamp a hand on the railing of the metal steps that wind upward, to the peak of the Spindle.
One of the castle servants, Iyyo, is already standing at the top of the skeletal stairway, ready to serve as the catalyst for this ritual. He has done it before; he knows it’s safe. Any blood he loses will be swiftly restored by our resident healer, Szazen.
“You may stand here in the doorway and watch, Princess. Do not come too close, understand? This magic is dangerous. But you should be safe as long as it’s not your blood being shed. Stay perfectly still, if you can.”
She swallows her bite of dumpling. “Of course I can be still. I was a bodyguard, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I rub my throat where her teeth tore it, and I give her a wry grin.
She smiles back, and a thrill floods my chest.
I cannot indulge in these feelings. It’s not fair to my people, who have supported me for so long. I wipe away my own smile, trying not to feel a pang as her face falls.
Turning my back on her, I start to climb the stairway to Iyyo.
And then I spin around, march down the steps, hook my hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her.
She makes a savage little frustrated sound into my mouth and presses her lips hard against mine, her fingers running deep into my hair, nails grazing my scalp. I’m wearing lightweight black robes and nothing else—appropriate garb for the spell I plan to perform—and the thin material lets me feel far too much of her body against mine.
