Page 8 of Vicious Fates and Vast Futures
I purr. Sounds like a lovely plan. But I cut it off as the thought of seed and pregnancy hits me. Shit, I really do need to talk to the boys about the birth control thing.Tonight, I promise myself.
Bryn continues. “You have an early meeting with one of the royal houses, yes?” He tucks my hair behind my ear as he looks at me devotedly. He’s just as schmoopy as Ossy, I swear. He just hides it better.
“Yeah, I do. Thank you for the reminder.”Dammit. I lean over and kiss him, letting my tongue slip into his mouth. His arm goes around me possessively, and it makes me smile.
How the hell did I get this lucky in my mates? I really need to make an offering to the Goddess as thanks. They, between them, fulfill my every need and desire in a way no single partner could. I just need to get us all out of this clusterfuck alive so we can start a real life together.
“What house?” Bryn asks as he wraps my curls around his fingers in that way of his that always hits me right in the heart.
“Marchara.”
I feel him tense against me. “I see,” he murmurs, seemingly disinterested, but I know something is up, especially since I feel him thin the aura bond.
I decide to let it lie. For now, at least. I kiss him again and slip out of bed. “I’ll take Ossy since you had mentioned a quick mirror trip to see Rory and Weyland.”
I QUICKLY SHOWER ANDget dressed and gather a sleepy Ossy from his room. Bryn has already slipped off, doing Bryn things. Plotting someone’s death, I assume.
Ossy and I march through the corridors to the side of Court where the eleven royal houses have rooms. The hallways in Court look eerily the same, and I think it’s because the sithen likes to mess with the Fae. Or maybe Seren instructed it to look like a maze. I don’t know.
I walk to the fifth door and knock loudly. Technically, I could walk right the hell in, as nearly every door in the sithen will openfor my palm print, given, you know, the whole princess thing. But I really need this house’s cooperation, so starting this off on the wrong foot isn’t wise.
Marchara herself opens the door. An old nymph, older than Grandmother, she is tall and waiflike with dark-brown hair. Her face is familiar in an odd way. We’ve met many times over the years but never truly personally.
However, the rumor mill—that is, Maudey and Rory—has told me that Marchara has been fairly vocal in wanting Fae to integrate into human society. I’m not sure of her exact reasoning for it, but regardless, she’s a solid in to get the royal houses to agree. Ineedher support.
She opens the door with a smile. “Priestess Adelaide, I sensed your coming. I’m honored that you asked to meet. Please, come in and have a drink.”
“Thank you, Lady Marchara. I appreciate your hospitality,” I respond as she leads us through the tiny entry into a space that would best be described as a formal sitting room. Multiple floral couches and chairs are angled towards a large brick fireplace where a low fire crackles happily. I perch on one of the couches and Ossy sits next to me. I can feel he’s uptight, not fooled by the easy hospitality.
“Tea, coffee, or wine?” Marchara questions, voice polite, as three younger females who look very similar to her slip out of an inner door to take seated positions around the room.
“My daughter, Liliana, and my granddaughters, Rose and Iris,” Marchara intones politely as she starts to pour drinks.
“Wine for us, please,” I answer as I let my hand hit Ossy’s thigh. I’m feeling oddly on edge and hope that touching my mate will center me.
The younger two nymphs settle directly across from us and accept wine glasses from their grandmother. Both are pale wispy things, waves of dark-brown hair falling over their shoulders. Iknow they must be older than I am, though I never bothered to memorize the house lineages, given that Grandmother left me to my own devices and didn’t force me into lessons like my female cousins.
Marchara brings wine glasses for Ossy and me and, gathering her own, sits in a nearby chair. “So, Priestess, what brings you to my rooms, exactly?”
I notice Liliana resettle herself. I can sense she’s frustrated about something. Rose and Iris both seem...off, for lack of a better word. I can’t get a read on them. I try to let my selkie instincts give me some insight, but I can’t feel anything past that. I slowly turn my head away from them and back to Marchara, meeting her golden eyes.
I clear my throat nervously. “Lady Marchara, I was hoping to be an ally in your continued push for integration into human society. I believe the only path to long-term survival is to work towards integration. You’ve been an advocate for this in the past. I was hoping we could discuss appointing ambassadors to the human world and how you and I can go about suggesting this to the other houses. And how we can lay the groundwork for more impressive changes. Together.”
Lady Marchara leans back and sips her wine, obviously considering my words. Unexpectedly, Liliana says, “Perhaps...if you allow my sister Dahlia back to Court, we can...consider your proposition.”
“Lily.” Marchara leans forwards, hissing her daughter’s name in utter horror.
The realization of why they look familiar hits me like a train. They look like the female I caught attempting to grope Bryn, the one I nearly killed on the spot, before I realized Bryn was my mate. And just like that, my magic jumps to the surface, homicidal and begging for blood.
Ohh, this complicates things.I try to be objective and pull back my raging magic, tucking a leg under me and taking a deep drink of my wine to give myself a moment to think. I suppose I could consider allowing her back—with requirements. A strict probation, perhaps. I’m not going to lie, it galls me a bit, but IneedMarchara. I don’t see a way forwards without the support of this house.
In my silence, one of the granddaughters speaks. “My aunt was only trying to partake in what we’ve all enjoyed.”
My skin goes cold. “Beg pardon?” I scratch out. Blood pounds in my ears. Magic dances inside me, dying to be let out.
The other female smiles cruelly. “When we first arrived here in America, my cousin Rose required Bryn to service her. I quite enjoyed watching it night after night.”
The first, Rose, smirks. “Bryn was rather reluctant at first. It took a few months, but I figured out how to motivate him.”
