Page 7 of Fates of Monsters

My voice catches. “You can be.”

She clears her throat, leaning down and kissing the top of my head. A small laugh escapes her. “Is this pink your natural hair color as a fae? Did it change from white?”

I laugh too. It feels good to laugh with her, to have this simple moment. This is the happiest day of my entire life. “No, I chose the pink.”

“Why?” she questions.

I pause. “Usually, I’d just say it was my favorite color. That was the reason why, but it’s not the truth.” Maybe the truth is something I probably can only share with her. “When I was a little girl—I think I was about five or six—one of my foster moms dyed my hair pink like this for a celebration night in the town. It was to celebrate the fae, and for one night, no one looked at me strangely with my pink eyes, because I fit in with them. I danced with the other mortals dressed up as fae, with their bright hair and contacts to change their eye color. She was kind to me. Nice. She was someone I was with for about five months before she was killed. That night stuck with me long after her death. We danced, cheered and everyone complimented me on my hair and said how lovely it was. There was kindness in that night that I clung to. The magic wore off, and by the next day, it was back to its normal color.” I blow out a breath. “Something about the way I felt alive that night stuck with me. So I dyed my hair pink at the first chance I could get. When I was turned to fae, the dye wore off, and Emerson actually brought me this magical dye that stays on permanently. He gave it to me because I felt like everything was taken away from me on that night. Now I’m starting to wonder if it was a blessing that I survived and I have a chance at an immortal life with Emerson. I would never have gotten to meet you, I never would have met my chosen family back in my world, who I can’t wait to introduce you to. I wouldn’t have had the time with Emerson to fall more in love with him.”

“Being turned was a blessing,” she whispers. “I believe every single one of us has a greater destiny, and we may not like the hands of fate playing with the strings of our life, but it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a reason for everything.” She places her hands on my shoulders. My mother is right, that sometimes we have to just let fate lead us.

I glance at my hair, smiling to myself. She’s woven loads of little white flowers that glow like stars into a braided crown, and some strands curl around my face. I borrowed one of her dresses, which isn’t white but black, and we worked hard to stick hundreds of the glowing white flowers to the dress so it looks like a night sky full of stars. The black dress is tight around my chest before flowing out into a sparkling gown that shines like moonlight. It’s stunning. My mother follows my gaze.

“This is my mating dress. I wore it so long ago. It’s one of the few things left in our family besides the necklace.” She takes it off and clips it around my neck. I touch the broken amulet. “I held on to that necklace for years, even when it was broken and useless. It felt like a promise from fate that you’d come back to me one day.” I stand up and turn around and she pulls me into a deep hug before I can even ask for one. I breathe in her scent, holding on just as tight. “I’m glad you found your mate and that you are happy. Whole. I have no doubt he will look after you. I can see it in his eyes. I’m sorry for everything you went through in your life. I wish I could have been the one to bring you up, but I could not follow you. Not from here. I’ve loved you every day, and I thank the goddess for every second we get with you right now. No matter what happens, you have us.”

She leads me over to the door, and my stomach flutters. I’m being mated to Emerson. For a moment, I can’t see anything but the moment we met, when he was in my apartment, sitting on my bed, reading my books. My only thought was that he was a monster, but he was about to show me how dark, possessive monsters can be the best at tearing out your heart and making it their own. We claimed each other that night, even if neither of us knew it for a while, and we have been through so much to get to this point. Even now, our future is not certain. If we die tomorrow, which is likely with all the enemies we have after us, at least we had today… we will have this moment. For us. For love. My mom leans in. “I hope your father hasn’t scared Emerson with his questioning.”

I grin. I have a protective father. “I don’t think anything can scare him.” Except for losing me, but I don’t say it. “He is the Wyern King and we are together.” We have nearly lost each other far too many times. I feel exactly the same way about losing him. It is my greatest fear. It took a long time for us to get here. I’m glad that we get this.

We head outside the small cavern to the side of the main one, and I look up at the veil and at how it shimmers. Something about it calls to me, begs me to go closer. “What do you think it will test me on?”

“I’m afraid all I have is rumors. It will test your soul. That’s all I know,” she answers me. “My grandmother used to say to be the bearer of the sword, you must be tested to see if you’re worthy.”

Worthy? I watch the veil for a few moments longer. I have to be worthy, get the sword, and get back to our people before Louie destroys everything good about my world. No pressure, Calli. He won’t stop until I stop him. And I will stop him. With everything he has done, to Nerelyth, to the millions of people he has killed, he deserves to die. My Louie is gone, and I will not hesitate to take him out now. None of us have a future until Louie is dead. My mother leads us around into the mountains, down a new pathway with bronze walls. “This used to be a great city,” my mother begins. “We’ve dug out some of it for our own living accommodation, but most people won’t come here anymore. They say the fallen cities are cursed with the ghosts of the dead.”

I turn to look at her. “Ghosts?”

“They’re not wrong, but the ghosts, or what is left of the dead here, do not bother us. For some reason, we are safe here, but many are not. We don’t welcome anyone here for their own safety as much as ours. There are only four cities left, where the rest of the people are starving, dying out, and you are our hope for a future. Now, this is your moment with Emerson. Enjoy it.” She stops and I barely even noticed we were in front of closed doors until she touches the handle. “Today is a day of joy and happiness for our family. For you.”

My mother opens the doors, and they swing fully open on their own. First, all I can see is the soft glow of fae lights spread across the ceiling. My boots sink into the thick old green carpet, which is ripped and torn but held together to make a pathway to the back of the small room. At the back of the room, which has only half a ceiling, is a stained glass window. Bright pink, purple, and green glass that lets light shine through and onto the pathway that leads to him. In this world of greyness, of death and darkness, there is him.

Emerson lifts his head, his eyes finding me across the room, and the world fades away, like it always does when we are together. His mouth parts, his eyes darkening as he looks me over, and my cheeks brighten at his reaction. Somehow my body is moving towards him, my mother at my side and my father standing in front of the stained glass at Emerson’s side, holding an enormous book. I can only see him. My king. My monster. The love of my life. My mate.

I come to a stop in front of Emerson, only a breath away from him, and I look over his leathers that are torn like the carpet. I don’t care what he wears. This is about our souls. Emerson has a red strip of fabric wrapped tightly around his wrist and hand. His eyes stay on me, drifting up the dress, devouring me, and it’s enough to make me blush further. He finally meets my eyes, and I get lost in the purple sea of his gaze. He gently picks up my hand and holds our hands between us. My mom wraps the end of the red fabric around my hand, tightly, until there is no way to undo the fabric tying our hands together. Emerson tugs me closer to him, and he softly rests his forehead against mine.

“In the name of the goddess, we bring these two mate-marked souls together. This world was born of magic and life, as was the idea of a mate. Two strings, woven so tightly together that not even death can part them,” my father begins, opening his book. “We’re here, in front of the goddess, to bind King Emerson Eveningstar and Calliophe Maryann Sprite. These two were born as one, and from this day onwards, they will be united forever under the stars of all our worlds.”

Emerson never takes his eyes off me, and I can’t look away from him. I feel power drifting around us, cold and yet comforting. The room is still dark despite the light pouring in, and the odd fae lights floating around. The fabric almost seems to tighten around our hands as my father speaks, and soon I feel the mark burning onto my wrist where the fabric touches. I can’t help the massive smile on my lips or the tears of happiness that fall down my cheeks. “The mating mark.”

“Emerson, do you know the words?” my father questions.

“I do,” Emerson answers. With his other hand, he cups my cheek. “May the goddess entwine our lives. May we belong together for all of time. May death be no weapon to part us. May all the gods bless our union. We are as one. We are eternal. My soul belongs to you, my mate, and yours belongs to me.”

He wipes a tear away from my cheek as I repeat his words, feeling the magic in the air humming to life, growing with each word. I don’t look away from Emerson. Not for a moment. “My soul belongs to you, my mate, and yours belongs to me. I love you, Emerson Eveningstar.”

He leans closer, his lips tracing mine. “I love you more than my own soul, Calliophe Eveningstar.”

My new name sends shivers down my spine. My last name, Sprite, was never really mine. Just a generic foster name I was given at some point.

“By the gods and goddess of this world, I commend you as mates. For no soul, no magic, no god can break this bond. It is final.

I gasp as I feel the mate bond slam into my chest, burning throughout my body like it was meant to be with me this entire time. Like a part of my soul, of my body, that I was missing. Emerson kisses me passionately, and I barely hear my father excuse himself with my mother and the door shut. The rope is still tightly strapped around our wrists, and it suddenly disappears into black dust. The second it is gone, Emerson growls as he grabs me, picking me up and kissing me deeper. His eyes darken into purple jewels as he pushes me into the wall, pulling my dress up. Instead of hearing his voice in my ears, I hear him in my mind. I can sense him, and he feels like a sea of dark skies, filled with the light of a thousand stars. “I’ve waited my entire life to kiss my mate, and I cannot wait any longer.”

“But you are kissing me,” I whisper into his mind, hoping he can hear me.

He leans back, smirking once as he lowers himself to his knees. The Wyern King, my mate, is kneeling for me. I push his shirt off his thick shoulders, and for a moment my lips part in awe as I really look at how gorgeous my mate is. His chest is golden, toned, and full of muscles and mate marking that makes him even more enchanting to gaze at. Dark locks of soft hair fall onto his forehead, and there is a slight beard growing that makes him look wild. His lips turn up, amusement lining his eyes. “Not these lips, my queen.”

“Emerson,” I gasp out loud as he pushes me up the wall with only one hand holding my dress to my waist. Emerson runs his hand across my lace underwear, and it disappears. He tugs off my dress, throwing it to the side until I’m naked in front of him. He groans as he stares at me before lowering his lips right to my core. I moan at the first hot lick of his tongue against my clit, and sharp zaps of pleasure sky rocket through my body. Every touch is too much, and I’m hypersensitive everywhere he is touching me, of how his tongue is moving as he explores me and builds me closer to the edge.

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