Page 26 of Atop the Faerie Throne (The Fifth Nicnevin #5)

Twenty-Five

Jaromir

T he sunlight is blinding, but I refuse to look away as Rose flits down from her garden room. Pride blooms in my chest, and I ignore Cailu’s and Elduin’s smirks and their murmurs of ‘mate whipped’ as I step forward to catch her before she can properly land. There’s an adorable flush on her cheeks, and my wolf yips, surging forward and urging me to steal a kiss.

“Did you have a nice flight?” I ask.

She nods, but there’s a faraway look in her eyes as she says, “There are lots of refugees.”

No doubt she saw the line of returning fae from her garden. Our bond tells me what her pensive expression doesn’t. Rose’s heart is breaking for her people. We both know they’re returning to find their homes shattered, looted, and burned. Elfhame City may be free, but it still bears the deep scars of war.

As does its Nicnevin.

“We’re working on rebuilding,” I tell her, hoping the news will brighten her mood. “Florian thinks we can get most of the city back to how it was by autumn.”

Her brother and Drystan are holed up, consulting experts on fixing the defences among other things.

“That’s where we’re going now, if you’d care to join, your majesty,” Cailu offers with a wink, and my wolf bristles at his interruption.

“We’re starting with the larger buildings in the inner city that can temporarily house lots of fae,” Elduin finishes for his brother, leading the way to the gate without looking directly at my mate.

At least one of them has some sense.

“But it’s a lot of heavy lifting, so if you don’t want to watch Jaromir get shirtless and sweaty…” Cailu trails off with another smirk.

I swallow the growl building in my chest. He’s completely oblivious to my wolf’s plans to gut him, and that’s how it’s going to stay. For all that the twins sometimes drive me mad, they’re the only two remaining members of Florian’s trusted inner circle, now that we’ve lost Ascal, Kendel, and Merith.

At the reminder, he howls softly in my mind. We fought beside them for decades, and he considered all three of those warriors his pack. Even now, I keep expecting them to turn up, offering their help.

But they never will.

“I can help,” Rose insists, squeezing me tightly like she can sense the cracks of loss running through me. She flits up, perching on my shoulders and running her hands through my hair until a rumble of pleasure escapes me, fur brushing against my skin.

No. Don’t shift, you stupid beast. She’s petting me, not you.

It’s a close thing, but I manage to hold him back, resting my hands on her knees to keep her steady as we head out.

“Drystan did mention you should rest,” I remind her, not really meaning it.

She’s had a tough few days, and he wore her out this morning, but I don’t expect her to follow his orders. Sitting around in her palace, being pampered, just isn’t who Rose is.

Besides, we’ve seen and dealt enough death. I think both of us could do with some simple uplifting work to remind us that small actions have big impacts and that we’re good for something more than destruction and battle.

“I want to help,” Rose confirms, dropping a kiss to the top of my head before adding in an intimate whisper, “And I’m always happy to watch you get sweaty and shirtless.”

My wolf preens.

Clearing the inner city is hard work, but necessary. As I predicted, it feels good to remove the debris and work alongside my fellow knights to make shattered buildings habitable. Better still to have Rose with me. The rest of her Guard trickles in to help throughout the day, rotating so there’s at least two of us with her at all times. Currently, it’s Bree’s turn.

It’s not just us, either. Her guides are lending their strength and expertise. The Third Nicnevin’s gift of strength is especially useful, given that some of the buildings are close to collapse.

My wolf appreciates the security of knowing Rose’s protected almost as much as he enjoys the relief that physical labour brings and the sense of community surrounding us.

It does the refugees good to see her helping, even if she’s only really able to set up cots and make beds. A hands-on Nicnevin is good for morale. Her mother would’ve stayed in her palace, organising everything, but out of sight.

Mercifully, Rose seems to have recovered well enough from her wobble last night. Drystan promised to ask the High Priestess to check on her later, just in case she still needs to talk some more. We’re all aware that after the battle, when there’s no longer the threat of war to keep your mind occupied, is when the difficult path of healing begins.

As the sun begins to dip below the horizon, I heft up a door for Nicnevin Titania to hammer back into place. Her gift of unmissable aim means that she hasn’t hit my thumb once today, and thankfully that still holds true when a shout of joy from behind me makes me drop the heavy piece of wood.

Unfortunately, it lands on my toe. Cursing, I catch it before it can topple, leaning it against its frame as the scent of family, of pack, surrounds me like a heavy blanket.

We’ve been working in the city library—a building that was apparently not of interest to the Fomorians—doing repairs. I shouldn’t be surprised that Ma is here. She’s the head scholar, after all. But I’m glad that my sisters are with her. All five of them tower over Ma, but she doesn’t let that stop her from dragging me away from the broken door and down to her level.

Her hug is bone-crushing. Her tears are almost as soul-shredding as Rose’s.

“You didn’t send any news. We thought you were dead!”

She’s physically shaking, and I grimace guiltily.

“Don’t be dramatic, Ma. He can’t die now, remember?” Frieda, the eldest and shortest of my sisters, comments. “I’m more concerned with the fact that he got mated and didn’t invite us to the ceremony.”

Oh, damn. She noticed.

No shit, Jare. It’s not like the mark is exactly subtle.

“Oh, hush,” Ma scolds, pulling back just far enough to admire the mark across my throat. “Sometimes things happen in the heat of the moment. You know your father and I…” She trails off, going misty-eyed for a second, until Cameo touches her shoulder lightly. “Well, the Temple priestess didn’t judge us, at least.”

Finally, she releases me, cupping my cheek briefly before turning towards where Rose is midway through making up a cot in the room beyond, offering her a bow.

My mate’s cheeks flush an adorable pink, and she abandons her work to cross the space between them, Bree close on her heels.

“Please don’t. We’re family now.” She tugs my mother upwards and waves for my sisters to do the same.

“As you wish, Nicnev—Rhoswyn,” she corrects, at Rose’s raised brow.

“Are Fionn and Oren…?” I ask.

“We found those idiots guarding the south gate,” Ena supplies, eyes flashing wolf with amusement. “Ma gave them the same treatment. Don’t worry.”

She makes a subtle movement with her hand, a sort of twirl of her wrist while wiggling her forefingers. It’s a silent way of asking if I’m free to go on a run tonight, and I tilt my head towards my mate silently before nodding.

As long as Rose doesn’t need me, I’ll join.

My shifter siblings came up with the code while I was still a pup. Although Ma reassures us that she loves having wolves around the house and will fuss and love our other sides whenever she sees them, we still try not to bring up shifting around her.

Our wolves can all scent her sadness when she sees us shifted. We remind her of Pa.

So while she might hide it very well, we know she’s not fine, and because we love our mother, we try to keep our other sides out of sight.

Janey, Cameo, and Aerla are the only three of us who aren’t shifters, but they sometimes join us, and my wolf rolls around in my mind, shoving images of Rose doing the same one day, riding on our back beneath the moon.

I gently try to temper his hopes. Rose has worked hard today. She needs rest more than she needs to run.

If wolves could pout, he would. There’s a prick of claws in my mind, and a shiver of fur runs down my spine as he protests both our mate’s tiredness and my lack of agreement to his grand plan.

Someday , I hastily promise him. Just not tonight.

He’s not completely appeased, and likely won’t be until he’s satisfied that Rose is taken care of, and I grimace as our silent argument continues.

Someone taps my bicep, and I drag my focus away from the barely satisfied creature within me to see Rose beside me, and my mother reading me with concerned eyes.

“Sorry, what?”

“I was just telling your ma that she’s welcome to stay in the palace until your home is rebuilt,” Rose says. “And she was trying to refuse, even though it would free up the library for more refugees.”

“Are you kidding?” I ask, the words coming out sharper than I mean them to. “Of course you’re staying in the palace. How badly was the house damaged?”

“It was burnt to the ground,” Cameo whispers, as Ma’s eyes tear up.

Great. Way to put your foot in it, Jare.

My parents had a tall, but somewhat crooked home against the inner wall. Every wonky wall and surface was the result of my pa stubbornly insisting he didn’t need help or to hire a builder.

Now it’s all gone.

Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. Pa was her mate, but it’s been over ninety years, and Ma has never truly managed to say goodbye. I think some part of her still prays to Danu that he’ll walk through the door every night.

I grew up expecting her to follow him once I was grown, but so far, she’s stayed strong, thanks mostly to how close she is with my sisters.

“Aerla already lives in the palace,” I grind out, as my wolf claws at my mind, demanding we fix the sadness wafting from our mother immediately. “You could spend more time with her while we get everything fixed.”

“As Nicnevin, I insist,” Rose adds, leaning into my side in a way that somehow blunts the worst of my wolf’s anger. “We were just finishing up here, anyway. We can walk with you.”

It’s unexpectedly forceful of her, and I smile a little at the flash of steel in her tone as the beast inside me rolls over and bares his neck.

Even with the touch of feral that remains after mating her, he’s putty in her gentle hands.