Page 17 of Veil of Monsters

I cross my arms. “Because our king would be horrified to see you beating up a helpless female on the street. Whether she’s fae, mortal, Wyern, or anything else.”

They ignore me. “You’re that pink-haired bitch that he’s always hanging around with. The one that stood in front of the court and claimed that she was our queen.”

I hold my head high and claim something I never have before. “I will be your queen.”

They both laugh deeply, and I never let my own insecurities over all of this show. These aren’t the Wyerns who will ever show me any respect, especially not without Emerson at my side, which he is not at the moment.

The Wyern on the left elbows his friend. “We should teach our queen a lesson about why a fae is nothing other than a lying whore.”

They attempt to slam straight into me together, but I’m ready for them, and I don’t hesitate to jump out of the way. I’m not going down without a fight. All my anger over Louie, all of my resentment over Emerson, over the loss of the memories, of how unfair this all is, comes bubbling to the surface. I pull harshly from my powers, from the well of my magic, until fire and ice mixes together, spreading up my arms and sparking spheres into the air. Ice spreads across the mud at my feet, and they both slip in it. Before they can rise with their wings, my ice spreads off the ground, wrapping it around their wings until they are unusable. “You’re not flying anywhere.”

“Bitch!” one of them snarls, leaping for me. I punch one of them hard in the face with a handful of flames, and he roars, clutching his burning nose right before I knee him in the balls. He screams as he collapses. The other one pulls a dagger out. “You’re dead, fae.”

I grin as he rushes at me, slipping on the ice. When he is close, he lashes out at me with the dagger, and I quickly block him with a shield of fire. He tries to cut through it, but every time, he does nothing but burn himself. I wait until he ducks to knock me off my feet before slamming my shield into him, knocking the dagger to the ground. Before I think too much on it, I make an ice dagger in my hand and slam it into his chest, pushing until I know it has hit his heart. He falls back, still, wide eyed.

Breathless, I turn around and rush to the fae, who is still on the floor. Her voice is shaky. “Thank you.”

I lift her off the floor. One of the Wyern males is still alive and is still crying out for help. “We should go get you some food.”

“Did you kill him?” Zurine’s voice makes me jump as she appears at the end of the tents. Sahana is at her side.

“She hasn’t eaten in a day,” I tell Zurine.

Sahana comes closer. “I’ll take her. I’m feeling better this afternoon. Come on, not all Wyerns are bad people. They have plenty of food and a change of clothes.”

The fae goes off with a soothing Sahana, and Zurine walks to my side, looking over the Wyerns. I tell her everything that happened. “You did a noble thing, and I will deal with the living male, as I overheard the entire fight. I was coming to help the female myself when you stepped in. He broke our laws, and the punishment is death by a member of the royal court. You should leave unless you wish to see him die.”

I glance at the Wyern. I’ve seen enough death to know I don’t want to stay. “I need to ask you for a favor before I leave.”

“Oh?” she asks, tension in her tone. She doesn’t like killing either.

“Princess Nerelyth is in trouble,” I begin. “She is my best friend and your friend too. You just don’t remember, but she is sworn into Emerson’s court, and she deserves the protection that comes with it. I need news of the sea royals, anything. I’m going mad knowing I can’t help her. I just need to know where she is so I can get a portal there… without Emerson knowing. The king of the Rift is with her, and if I tell Emerson, he will follow, and he could die.”

Zurine slips a dagger out of the holder on her thigh. The Wyern screams more as the air chills. “I will find out what I can to protect my king. Now leave, Calliophe.”

I walk away without another word, and the Wyern’s painful screams do not make me feel any better, but they echo after me, nonetheless.

ChapterTen

CALLIOPHE SPRITE

The fae are not happy to have Wyerns helping them. The mortals are terrified, and the rest of the supernaturals are hostile. I rub the back of my neck. How exactly did I get roped into being down here, while Solandis continues with the training of our army? They don’t need any more training; they have trained for war for their entire lives. It’s been so, so long since anyone has known war. A massive portion of our army remembers the old war, long before my birth, and I can see it in their eyes. War is here and everyone should fear it. The Rift, an old story, is real, and our world is in danger. We have two hundred thousand in our army, and over half are riders.

We will be able to defend ourselves better than the fae did. They were taken out from the inside, and they never stood a chance. I always thought they would be cured of their snobbery when their city was gone, but no. They are refugees with an attitude like none other. I can understand why everyone is pissed with them. I’m sure half the fae here were born with a gold stick shoved so far up their asses that they aren’t aware it’s even there anymore. We’ve been nothing but nice to them. Well, most of us have. Only a few stupid, cocky Wyern males have tried their luck. After Zurine made an example of a few that attempted to hurt a fae female, there hasn’t been any more.

Our laws are strict about females, but we also have laws on refugees. They are our people now, and we have to find a way to live together until the war is over and they can rebuild their home. It’s not going to be easy incorporating them into the city, but as I remind some of the Wyerns, their king is half fae and currently has a big obsession with a pink-haired fae who claims to be his mate. I fucking believe that part of the story. I’ve never seen Emerson as obsessed with anyone like he is with her. I like her too. She has a smart attitude and puts Emerson in his place.

These are his people, too, I remind myself. Cruel, entitled people, but his. Yes, they’ve shunned him for years and called him a monster. I am not a fan of the snobby, pretentious people who are hopping into tents with a disgusted look, but not all of them are that way. Some of the fae I’ve met are kinder than I’ve given them credit for. The mortals who are flooding into the city do not care about the tents; they are just happy to be fed and be alive.

This is the end of the survivors who made it here, short of a hundred thousand people, not even a tenth of the amount of people who were living in Ethereal City when it fell. The city is locked down with shadow magic, monsters, and the males from the Rift now. No one else is escaping to us, and we can’t help them without leaving our own cities defenseless. There is a careful line to be trod, and I do not want to be the one walking it. There are more fae and supernaturals than mortals. They weren’t so lucky to escape the city. They didn’t have powers to defend themselves from the monsters, and from the stories I’ve heard, the attack was so sudden that everyone simply focused on escaping.

I walk over to a group of Angelic Children. These creatures rarely ever leave the cities. It’s strange to look at them. They all have beautiful, glistening white skin and hair as black as night, with feathered wings that pour out of their backs. They may give me hostile looks as I walk over, and I don’t blame them. They all reach about three foot tall, and someone might even think they are children until they get close and see that they are very much not children at all. No one knows where their race even came from, but they have been around for so long. They never seem to die, or have young. Truthfully, I’ve never given a shit about them as they are creepy, and I don’t need to know their secrets. Fuck, I need a drink and good sex. Sex with a random isn’t an option anymore now that I’ve met her and my dick is in love with its mate. It won’t rise for anyone else, and for once, I’m happy with that.

I hold my hands up and shake off my thoughts. “We understand that none of you eat any meat or fish, or any of our food. I spent the morning learning you eat solely fruit, and I have found a house for you to go and live in with a massive fruit garden for you to pick your own.”

An Angelic Child steps forward. Her grey eyes are so pale and full of ancient wisdom. I feel like she looks into my soul and frowns. “Wyerns are barbaric and drink blood. We will not touch any food you give us with your blood-stained hands.”

Fair enough. “This Wyern female is like you, or she is in a way. She refuses to drink blood or partake in food from animals. Once I told her that there was a group that needed re-homing within the city borders with similar struggles to her own, she offered you a home that is safe. I know little about your culture, but it’s my job to make sure you are safe. And not hungry. I’ll happily take you there now with a portal.”

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