Page 80 of The Surrender

Blushing, I bite my lower lip as he advances toward us. His gold wings fill so much of the expanse and cast prisms along the floor, reflecting off the mirror to shimmer upon me. His aren’t the only ones restored. I smile at the Stewardess because her wings are fuller, too. No longer one. All the citizens of the former Court of Storms have had their wings restored.

Earlier, a beautiful thrill surged through me when Kyan brought me onto the balcony so I could witness his winged people taking flight and dancing all around the castle in midair. Some performed aerobatics. Even the children had tested their wings, bouncing and somersaulting. Judging by how many waved to me and nodded and smiled, I knew my reception to Kyan’s court would be much different. After our private dinner, Kyan would bring me one last time to say farewell.

“Is that its true name?”

“It is today.”

He steps in the Stewardess’ way and weaves his hands around the part of my belly where it’s exposed. The swell seems to have grown from before I’d entered the Veil of Souls to retrieve Kyanatu…and Shadow. And Kyan is determined to show off my bump more since he’s alerted me that this will be my last day in the Court of Air before I leave for Merikh’s court. The vampire has shared how immediately following supper, he will exchange blood and venom with me, then formally bring me into his cursed realm of the Waste.

Chills still creep up my spine when I consider what fallen vampires will look like. And how they might respond to the babe growing inside me. For now, I’ll enjoy how much they’re all doting on me, especially Kyan.

“It’s a beautiful gown...” I trail off, uncertain if that’s what I should call the ethereal piece of silver filigree-covered fabric.

Around my throat, the filigree swirls in current-like patterns and plunges low to expose my cleavage and plump breasts. While it cuts out in the center, the filigree bodice extends along my sides and lower swell of my belly and covers my sex much like a leotard. Transparent skirt attachments flow from the backs of my hips to expose my thighs and the insides of my legs. More filigree twirls all over my arms from below my shoulders to my wrists.

Eyn-Amaru leaves my hair long and silvery, flowing down my back. Other than the smoky eye, circlet with the ten-pointed cross, and tiny silver gems sprinkling my upper cheekbones, she leaves the rest of me bare—no jewelry. It would be too much with the filigree.

My fingers twitch and tremble as she finishes while Kyan caresses my belly. After a few more moments, he dismisses her and turns me to face him instead of the mirror.

“I will be there, Quinny dear,” he assures me, capturing my chin in a tender touch. His indigo eyes are more serene than ever, all the bluer thanks to his gold wings. “We all will. You have no need to fear Merikh.”

It doesn’t help. My belly flutters, but not the normal kind. Not butterflies. This is more…visceral. With tears glistening in my eyes and nausea clotting my stomach, I print my hands to the lower swell.

“I just…I just felt them,” I gush and gaze up at Kyan.

He furrows his brow and follows my hand. “Them?”

“Just an expression because we don’t know what the sex is,” I explain and tuck a tendril of my hair behind my ear, narrowing my eyes in curiosity. “Do you have any preference, Kyan?”

He shakes his head. “None whatsoever. A healthy child, free of the Curse of the Waste, is a blessing, Quintessa. And while hope has failed us far more in the past, it’s the first time I truly believe the Curse is not stalking us. Thanks to our beautiful little queen, it’s afraid of us.”

I can’t help but wonder if Kronos is afraid now that half has been broken. Shoving the thoughts aside because the last thing I want is to think of Qora and what has happened to her, I touch Kyan’s arm and smile when his feathers ruffle.

He sighs heavily before stiffening. “You’re so beautiful, I want nothing more than to tear this dress off and spend all day in bed with you. But I believe we had our fill of you earlier.”

“And I’m starving!” I point out, rubbing my belly, imagining some of the flutter kicks could be the result of hunger.

“Come then, Quinny. They’re waiting for us.”

Thankfully, Drago has not eaten everything in sight. As usual, there is no chair set aside for me, which I prefer because any of their laps are far more comfortable. And I quite enjoy their attention. I’ll even sit back and let them feed me if they wish. After spending so many years scrounging for leftovers, scurrying off to the nearby woods to hunt for berries, or wild mushrooms or even depending on Sarai for food, it’s a welcome relief to be fed. And fed. And fed.

For once, my eyes are not bigger than my stomach, and I’m eager to devour everything in sight! I feast on spirit soup and dew bread, golden berry cakes with honey-halo sauce, light cheese sauce over hearty pasta and roasted vegetables, and even biscuits with clotted cream for dessert.

By the time I’ve finished, I’ve rounded the table, so I began with Kyan and now end with Mayce. He’s doted on me most, insisting on feeding me, lifting cups to my mouth, and wiping my lips with the cloth napkin. Each time, I feel so much smaller in his arms. But safe and warm. Too warm. Especially when he rubs the tips of his fingers along my thighs.

“Would you care for something more to drink, my child?” he inquires, lifting his goblet this time to my lips. Oh, gods, how does he smell so good? Like herbs and sweet wine. At first, I hesitate but then remember that a little sip of wine or two won’t do me any harm even when I’m pregnant.

So, I press my lips into a smile and nod, accepting as the Fae deepens his molten brown eyes against mine while lifting the goblet rim to the curve of my mouth. And slowly tipping it with his knowing simper.

The wine is rich and spicy and warm. Intoxicating, it surges heat into my body and thickens and slows my blood to a languid, heady state. Not at all what I expected from the Court of Air where every dish and drink has been light and airy. Not rich or spicy.

“Mmm...”

I moan and sigh, leaning my head against the Fae god’s strong frame while shifting my hips a little. Out of my peripheral vision, Mayce postures in his chair, the epitome of steadfastness and otherworldly beauty. It defies the laws of nature. It’s not right for his hair to be as golden as sunlight and his eyes able to glint so much. Or his cheekbones to soar so high and sharp on his face. Or his lips to be so full and sensual, soft and seductive as silk roses.

“You’re so beautiful, you could break my soul.” I slur a little and giggle. My pulse skips to my fluttering heartbeat.

A sharp hiss, followed by a low growl, resounds from the opposite side of us.

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